#i have no idea if the blinking was added later from who took the video but still he laid on the ground for a long time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

c-optimistic · 3 years

Note

Not sure if you’re still taking prompts, but I just watched Hozier’s from Eden music video and now I can’t stop thinking about Lena and Kara on the run finding and saving a kid from a bad situation...

obviously slightly different from the video and also an unambiguously happy ending

Alex handed over the keys to the beat up car, her eyes not straying from Kara’s for even a second.

“Travel at night as much as you can. The tank is full, but you need to make it last as long as possible.” She blinked, bit her lip, and squeezed Kara’s hand. “No powers. Not for anything. And no contact. I’ll find a way to let you know it’s safe.”

Kara nodded, pulling her sister closer and enveloping her in a tight hug, trying to memorize the way it felt, the warmth that burrowed into her bones and eased her mind. “We’ll be fine, Alex,” she said, injecting as much confidence in those four words as she possibly could. She was glad that Alex couldn’t see the tears she wasn’t quite able to suppress. “I’ll be listening for you.”

Alex pulled away and opened her mouth to argue, probably to point out that Kara’s statement went directly against the no power rule, but then her mouth snapped shut, like she knew better than to argue.

“Don’t put on any music you like on the radio. You know it makes you want to sing, and that sort of thing is bound to attract attention,” Alex said instead, smoothing over Kara’s shoulders and tugging slightly on the collar of her borrowed leather jacket. “Take care of each other,” she added, clearly no longer able to hide her anxiety behind jokes. Her eyes didn’t stray from Kara, but the comment was undoubtedly meant more for Lena than for Kara. “I love you, Kara.”

“Danvers sisters, right?” Kara said thickly, holding back tears. She pulled Alex in for one more tight hug, taking care to listen to her heartbeat, to memorize its unique rhythm. “I love you, too. You call if you need me. Okay? Do you promise?”

“Promise,” Alex said, pulling away and wiping at her cheeks. “All right. Go. Go.”

Kara and Lena didn’t need to be told a third time. They got into the car, and drove off into the night, Kara’s eyes on the rearview mirror long after Alex had disappeared entirely from view.

Very quickly, they developed a routine.

Hats, thick sunglasses, hoodies, and overall easily forgettable outfits became their norm, much to Lena’s eternal dismay. Kara would pretend not to see her wince as she pulled on sneakers, and Lena returned the favor by not calling Kara out when she used her superhearing to listen for Alex every single night.

They drove throughout the night for the most part, sticking to unpopulated areas as much as they could, not speaking much to the people they ran into at gas stations and diners. When the posters with their faces began cropping up on public restrooms and outside of convenience stores, Lena suggested they die or cut their hair.

During the day, they slept. Sometimes in the car, no relief from the sweltering heat. Sometimes, if they figured it was safe enough, they’d sleep a few hours at a motel before setting off again.

They definitely didn’t use each other’s names. Not once. In fact, they didn’t speak much at all.

(One thing filled both their minds:

Keep moving, keep moving, keep moving.

As long as they were on the move, Lex couldn’t get to them.)

It wasn’t much of a life, but it wasn’t all bad either.

It meant Lena would surreptitiously take her hand out of anxiety or a desire to provide comfort when driving past other cars. It meant when Lena’s always busy mind became bored, she’d invent new games to play as they drove along.

It meant huddling up together one particularly cold desert night.

It meant becoming very familiar with the song Lena hummed as she showered.

It meant learning to decipher Lena’s mood based on tuts, clicks of her tongue, breathy sighs, and the roughness of her voice when she would break the silence between them.

No, it wasn’t a bad life, being on the run with her best friend, the only person on this planet after Alex who’d ever made Kara feel at home.

It wasn’t a bad life, with money carefully hidden in the car, under the mats and inside the seat cushions, their every need anticipated and planned for, long into the future. Theoretically, they could stay on the run for years, evading Lex’s long reach.

It wouldn’t be a bad life, but to be fair, when your only goal was survival, having a good life (or really living at all) just wasn’t the point.

Kara chewed on her lip as she refueled the car, her eyes on the meter, her ears on the men coming out of the gas station.

They were laughing, clearly a bit drunk despite the time of day, one of the men complaining loudly as they walked towards their car.

“Costs me a fortune to feed that boy. Clothe him. Give him a place to sleep. And if she can leave him, why can’t I?”

Kara didn’t react. She finished refueling, paid, then slid into the driver’s seat, watching as the drunk men piled into their car and pulled away. Her grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles white. Just a tiny bit more pressure, just a little bit more of a squeeze, and she could shatter it in her hands.

“Is something wrong?” Lena asked, reaching out and brushing her hand over Kara’s shoulder, so careful, so tentative. “You seem upset.”

Kara turned to her, still chewing on her lip.“What do you think about getting a good night’s sleep tonight? I know a place we can go. It’ll be safe.”

Lena’s eyes roved over Kara’s face for a moment. “What did you hear?” she asked finally, gesturing with her head in the direction the men had driven off to.

“Just that they’re leaving and won’t be back for a few days.”

Lena eyed her skeptically, clearly knowing there was something else, something Kara wasn’t sharing, but she didn’t comment. “Okay. Okay, if it’s safe. We can both use the rest.”

Kara didn’t respond, but her grip on the steering wheel finally eased. She didn’t speak as she inserted the key in the ignition and started the car, pulling slowly out of the gas station and down the road.

And Lena let out a breathy sigh, the only indication of her displeasure at being kept in the dark, though belied by the slight quirk of her lips.

(And as they drove, windows down and hair billowing in the wind, Kara wondered if Lena felt the way she did:

An aching need to stop running, even for just a moment.)

The floorboards of the house creaked under them as they stepped inside, Lena immediately wrinkling her nose at the smell—something harsh, like paint, and underneath it, the sickly sweet smell of rotting flowers.

“No wonder those men were in such a hurry to leave,” Lena muttered, distaste coloring her features as they stepped further in the home. The floor was littered with empty beer cans and filthy clothes, the smell of rotting flowers growing stronger. “This place is disgusting. Who would live here?”

Kara didn’t respond, just kept walking towards one of the rooms in the very back of the house. She wondered, briefly, stupidly, how Lena couldn’t hear what she could: the sound of a little heart, pounding furiously away in an equally small chest, body and bones rattling in fear.

“Where are you going?” Lena asked, still following dutifully. “Kara?”

It was the sound of her name that made her pause, turn around, and smile. “I had to help him,” she explained in a whisper before dropping to her knees and gently pulling a closet door open, revealing the pale, dirty face of a little boy. “Hi,” Kara said softly, heart breaking as he pressed himself against the wall of the closet in an attempt to create distance between them, his legs tangled in rags that made up what must have been his bed. (And in the corner of the closet, flowers, long dead.) “Don’t be scared,” she continued, though she didn’t advance further. She stared at him, listened to the terrified pounding of his little heart, and she came to a decision. Without thinking about it for longer than a second, she reached up and let her hair out of its ponytail, then pulled off her glasses. “Do you recognize me? Do you know who I am?” she asked, ignoring Lena’s warning hand on her shoulder, silently urging her not to do this.

The boy pushed away from the wall, approaching Kara with more than a little hesitancy. But his eyes never left her face. “Supergirl?” he finally whispered in awe, mouth falling open just a little bit. “Are you really her? Are you really here?”

“Yeah,” she answered, holding out a hand. “Yeah, I’m here.”

He paused for a moment more, as if not entirely sure she was telling the truth, but then he rushed forward, allowing Kara to pull him into a hug. “You’re really her. You’re really here.”

She broke Alex’s rules and used her powers to speed through cleaning the home. Lena was in the kitchen with the boy, digging through the cabinets and the fridge to make him something to eat, eventually settling on soup that Kara heated with her laser vision, much to the little boy’s glee.

Much later, when the child was wrapped in blankets and letting out soft snores as he slept in the only bed in the house, Lena handed Kara a mug of tea and motioned for her to follow her outside. They sat on a rickety bench on the porch in silence, sipping their tea and taking in the cool night air, the miles of empty desert around them. And then:

“You didn’t tell me because you knew it was a bad idea. You knew we shouldn’t have come here.”

“I wasn’t going to abandon this kid.”

“You don’t know this kid,” Lena admonished, sounding tired. And in her tone, something else. Guilt, maybe. “I know what you’re thinking, Kara. But we can’t help him. Lex is still after us. Being on the run is no place for a kid.”

“But what we found him in is?” Kara asked, turning to look at Lena. She took their mugs and placed them on the ground at their feet, then grabbed Lena’s hand. “You can’t look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to help him. I know you, Lena.”

“It would throw everything off. All our plans, the sacrifices we’ve made,” Lena said, pulling her hand out of Kara’s grasp.

Kara felt her back stiffen. “I know you’ve planned for a decade or more, but I can’t, Lena. I can’t live like this. I don’t want to look over my shoulder running from Lex forever. I just. Life has to be more. And this kid needs our help. We can’t use Lex as an excuse forever.”

This was very clearly the wrong thing to say.

“I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you. No one asked you to go on the run with me. It was your choice, if you remember.”

(It was.

But here was the thing, the thing that Kara wasn’t sure how to put into words: she would’ve made the same choice again and again. She would’ve given everything up for Lena a hundred times over.)

“Lena, you know that’s not what I meant,” Kara said softly, reaching for her hand again, grateful when Lena grabbed on tightly.

“We can’t stay here. We’ll have to drive through the day and night for a while,” she said after a long pause. “We’ll need to get him clothes. And you need to explain to him he can’t mention Supergirl ever again,” she added, narrowing her eyes at Kara.

Kara nodded quickly and, absolutely unable to help it, leaned over and pressed a kiss to Lena’s temple.

“Have I ever told you you’re my favorite?” she asked as she pulled away.

Lena just rolled her eyes, picking up their mugs and getting to her feet.. “After Alex, maybe,” she said with a grin, holding out a hand for Kara to help her up.

“That’s different. Alex is my sister. You’re…” Kara trailed off, not noticing the tremble in Lena’s hand, “you’re you.”

“Very eloquent, love,” Lena laughed, the endearment making Kara’s heart skip a beat. “To think you’re a journalist.”

They laughed as they put away the mugs and settled for a sleepless night on the lumpy couch in the living room, Lena’s head resting on Kara’s shoulder as she slowly dozed off.

And Kara sat there, breathing in the smell of Lena’s shampoo, half of her focus on the little boy’s gentle breathing in the next room, the other half of her focus on Alex’s heartbeat thousands of miles away, her thoughts on what it meant to be a family.

It was after several days of driving that they found a place Lena determined to be safe enough to rest.

The boy, who had yet to tell either Kara or Lena his name, ran ahead of them, heading straight for the small garden littered with colorful flowers.

“We shouldn’t stay here long,” Lena said as she grabbed one of their bags from the car, struggling a bit with its weight. “Have you been listening for him?”

Kara didn’t ask who him was. Either it was Lex or it was the boy’s unfit father, and regardless of who Lena was referring to, the answer was yes. Of course she’d been listening for him. “No news,” she confirmed, taking the bag from Lena, swinging it easily over her shoulder. “I have heard some odd frequencies lately though. Not sure what to make of it.”

Lena, who was smiling gratefully at Kara’s help, suddenly stopped, fear taking over her features. She pulled Kara to a halt by the wrist, eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t think—”

“—no,” Kara assured her, shifting the bag so that she could pull Lena into a loose, one-armed hug. “It’s similar to the frequency on Alex’s watch. I thought it was her way of signalling it’s safe but—”

“—but it seems more like a warning?”

Kara nodded, watching as the boy raced back towards them, a handful of flowers he’d pulled from the garden clutched in his fist. “A day or two,” Kara said in an undertone. “Just to rest. Then we’ll move on to the next place.”

Lena didn’t respond, but her hands twisted into the fabric of Kara’s shirt, and she pressed her face against Kara’s shoulder, and Kara figured that was answer enough.

Their routine changed.

It was as if, in their determination to give the child everything they possibly could for as long as they could, the fear and dreariness of being on the run was replaced by laughter and joy.

Lena took them all on a shopping trip, letting the boy pick out bright colored clothes, even rolling her eyes and conceding when Kara got them all baseball caps.

Rather than stay at sketchy motels, Kara would constantly be on the listen for people going on vacation or on weekend getaways, feeling better about ‘borrowing’ the home by making sure the home was immaculate when they left, Lena purposely leaving behind a small stack of bills.

They ate whatever the boy wanted, from sugary snacks to cheesy burgers. There was always music, usually a bubbly pop song Kara liked and they found that the boy preferred, leading to impromptu dances in the kitchen—with one memorable time, which Kara rather thought was seared into the back of her eyelids, Lena making the boy laugh as she grabbed his hands, swinging his arms to and fro, shaking her hips in time with the music.

(And in the dark, long after the child was asleep, Kara and Lena would lay together, heads close, trying to calculate what resources they had left, how much more they could stretch it out, how much longer they could continue this way.

And every night, long after Lena had finally drifted off, her head nestled on Kara’s shoulder, Kara would close her eyes and listen to the ever-closer frequency she didn’t recognize, increasingly worried about what it could mean.)

Then Lena changed their routine again.

Every morning, as Kara would make them coffee, Lena would press a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. She had them play the games she’d invent on the spot, winking at Kara when the boy would win every single one. And at night, every night, rather than just fit her head in the juncture between Kara’s head and shoulder, she would tangle their legs, hold Kara’s hand, pressed so tightly against Kara that she could feel Lena’s heartbeat against her skin.

(And Rao, did Kara want to take one of those moments, freeze it in time, commit it to memory, wanting it etched into her heart, where she could carry it forever.

But mostly, mostly, all Kara wanted was to close those few inches between their lips and finally, finally, kiss her.)

One night, weeks after finding the boy, after he’d already been tucked in and reminded that the next morning they would have to move on to the next place, the next town, Lena played with Kara’s fingers as they lay in the dark, the little breathy sighs she let out every few moments warning enough that she had something serious on her mind.

So Kara shifted a little, pulling away so that they were facing each other, hands still intertwined. And she made it a little easier for Lena. “I can practically feel the gears turning in your head. Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

Lena didn’t respond right away. Instead, her eyes were fixed on Kara’s, and after a moment, she used her free hand to smooth over the scar above Kara’s eyebrow. “How do you do it?” she finally questioned, voice so soft that Kara wasn’t sure she’d even be audible without superhearing. “How are you so effortlessly good all the time?”

It wasn’t really what Kara was expecting (and if she was honest with herself, it wasn’t what she was hoping Lena was thinking about either). “What do you mean?”

“You came with me without a second thought. Then, with the boy, you didn’t even pause to help him. You knew he was in trouble, and that was all it took.” She closed her eyes, her brows furrowing, almost as if she was in pain. “But my first thought was how it would make things harder for us.”

“That’s not true,” Kara said easily, and without really thinking about it, she pulled Lena closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You know it isn’t.”

“Do I?” Lena snarked back, but her heart wasn’t in it. She allowed Kara’s closeness, even going as far as burying her head under Kara’s chin.

With her hand that wasn’t still tightly in Lena’s grasp, Kara began to rub comforting circles on Lena’s back. “Your first thought was the danger he’d be in just because of us,” Kara reminded her gently, still rubbing her back. “Besides, I don’t know if you know, but you’re incredible.”

“Kara, be serious.”

“I am,” Kara laughed. “Being good...it’s easy. It’s the default setting. But you, you’re extraordinary. You were told your entire life that the opposite was true. That the only thing you could do was evil. And yet look at you. You did good anyway.” She paused, wanting Lena to soak in her words. “Do you see how amazing that is? Every single time you make a choice, you have to go through years of noise, years of interference, years of lies, and every time, you find your way through all that,” she tugged their joined hands up, pressing it against Lena’s chest, right over her heart, “to this. A good, kind heart.”

Lena pulled away suddenly, leaving Kara wondering if she’d said the wrong thing, but then she noticed the expression on Lena’s face, the blazing look in her eyes. “Do you really believe that?” she asked, voice barely a whisper.

“I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t have said it otherwise, gosh Lena, I—”

But Lena didn’t let her finish. Instead, she swung one leg over Kara, straddling her, and after waiting for Kara’s eager nod, finally, finally, kissed her.

(It was okay, Kara thought as Lena’s hands pinned hers to the bed, that Lena didn’t let her finish her sentence.

There was all the time in the world to tell Lena how much she loved her. For now, showing her would have to be enough.)

The frequency only Kara could hear, the one that worried her so, got closer every day, and so they stopped staying anywhere for more than a few hours.

It was hardest on the boy. He and Lena had especially grown close, falling asleep in the back of the car as Kara drove, chancing a look at them in the rearview mirror every now and then, feeling her heart swell with fondness. But Lena’s whispered concerns, about how he was faring, how he was feeling, felt more and more serious as the days dragged on.

Being on the run was no place for a kid.

“We could fight,” Kara suggested one night as they drove through the darkness, the child asleep in the back, clutching a toy Lena had bought him weeks ago. “Just wait for Lex to find us and fight.”

Lena tugged on Kara’s right hand, pulling it out of its vice-like grip on the steering wheel, then brought it to her lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “We went on the run because we couldn’t fight. Nothing’s changed.”

“Everything’s changed,” Kara said, turning to look at Lena. “What do you want to do?”

“We have a two day head start on Lex, right?” Lena confirmed. At Kara’s nod, she pressed another kiss to the back of Kara’s hands before releasing it. “We’ll find a place, spend one more night with him.” She motioned towards the child. “Then we’ll take him to the police station. CPS, I don’t know. Once he’s safe, we can wait for Lex.”

“No,” came a small voice from the back of the car. Kara watched the boy slowly sit up, toy clutched to his chest, meeting her gaze through the rearview mirror. “I’m staying with you. I want to be with you and Lena.”

(They tried to argue with him, tried to make him see reason, but Kara knew it was a lost cause. There was no convincing a boy who felt he’d found his family that he’d be better off or safer anywhere else.

Kara would know: she’d felt that way after landing on Earth, after Clark sent her away.)

So they made their last stand.

With Lena’s help, Kara found a fairly sturdy home, one that seemed to have been empty for some time, and they began to prepare.

Kara put her suit on for the first time in almost a year. Lena pulled out what she’d called her ‘emergency technology’ and the boy was secured in the house, letting Lena hug him to her as Kara sat nearby, her focus on everything beyond the walls of the house.

The frequency drew closer, the sound almost maddening in Kara’s ear. But there wasn’t much of Lex’s fanfare. No explosions, no gunfire. No whirring of new Lexosuits. There was nothing except for that sound in Kara’s ear and cars approaching.

“Kara?” Lena questioned, taking her hand and breaking her focus.

“He’s here.”

(She could hear it, cars and trucks coming to a halt, heavy footed people beginning to surround the house, the sound of their weapons in their hands loud in Kara’s ears.

And also, something else, something Kara hadn’t heard from this close in a long time.)

“Kara, I’m scared,” the boy said, looking to her, still gripping tightly to Lena.

“That’s okay,” Kara told him, brushing his hair back and then getting to her feet. “But you’ve got nothing to be scared about.”

“Kara—”

But she waved Lena’s concern off. “Trust me. We’re safe.”

One of the people surrounding the house broke down the door, making the boy hide his face in Lena’s stomach. Footsteps approached. A gun was raised. And then:

“Alex. You found us.”

The DEO was loud. Or maybe it was that the city was loud. After being in the middle of nowhere for so long, the sudden influx of noise was a little a little different.

Different, but nice.

“So, you broke all my rules, right?” Alex said as she followed Kara out on the balcony, standing next to her and leaning against the balustrade. “I said to keep a low profile, you kidnapped a kid. I said no powers, I find you in your suit.”

“I didn’t sing,” Kara said with a grin. Lena was still with the boy, holding his hand as he was checked over by doctors, happily sucking on a lollipop that Alex had offered him. “Your watch is broken, the frequency it lets off is wrong, I thought you were Lex for weeks.”

“I had a run in with an Aellon. I knew the watch was acting fritzy afterwards, but Brainy said any changes in the frequency would be ‘nearly imperceiptible.’” She grinned a little, bumping her shoulder against Kara’s. “So, while I was busy working with Brainy, Nia, J’onn, and Kelly to bring Lex down...you and Lena started dating and adopted a kid?”

Kara snorted, turning her head, watching as Lena and the boy (who were clearly done with all the tests) walked over to where she was standing with her sister.

“Pretty much,” she told Alex, marveling at finally having her entire family together again.

#I watched the video once #sooo I'm sorry in advance #supercorp #fanfic

427 notes · View notes

sleepysnk · 4 years

Text

hey y'all! i decided to make a fic for our lovely Jean boy. i got this idea after Sunday's episode :(, he deserves so much love right now. this is the longest fic i've written, so i hope you all enjoy! ♡

Close the Gap

Pairings: Jean Kirstein x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: None just fluff

Long distances relationships were always something many people tended to avoid.

The idea of a long distance relationship made (Y/N) feel queasy, her stomach would always churn at the idea of dating somebody who was miles away from her. She heard the many scary stories from her friends about these people not being who they said they were, or the horror stories of girls going missing after meeting with these people.

Not to mention she always binged watched MTV'S Catfish the TV Show at 3 A.M. watching how people would get catfished. The show was another reason why she tended to avoid dating anyone who was pretty far away. Her worst fear was to find that the person she trusted wasn't who they said they were.

That all changed seven months ago when she met him.

More specifically, Jean Kirstein.

(Y/N) was feeling pretty lonely, she was desperate for a relationship at the time and her best friend Sasha told her about some dating apps she could use. She wasn't exactly down to set her up with one of her friends. (Y/N) took the offer on the dating app and set up a profile.

She met a few decent guys, but they always ended up sending the usual "send me some pics" or "u down to hook up?" texts. Most of the guys on the apps were idiots who were looking just for a quick fuck or something short term, which isn't something (Y/N) wanted.

She complained to Sasha about it and even considered just deleting the apps, but she told her to just give it one more shot.

She was glad she did.

(Y/N) was swiping through the different guys on the app. Some caught her eye or some made her face scrunch with disgust.

Her swiping stopped when her eyes landed on him. She was instantly attracted to him, his sharp jawline, shaggy light brown hair which was a bit long, his golden brown eyes, toned chest and that goddamn smile. He had a sly smile that made her feel butterflies.

After she looked at his profile she was hooked. He seemed like a really sweet guy based on his description. He knew how to cook, draw, he played sports, worked out, etc. He also seemed really sweet as well.

She was tempted to text him first, but she decided not to. The few times she did message a guy first it ended with the guy being dry, or sending some gross messages complimenting her body rather than her face.

She totally forgot that day that she added him until she got the notification.

Jean: hey! i saw your profile and let me just say you are gorgeous ❤

From that day forward the two talked every night, they spent many nights texting until they both felt tired, exchanging social media as well. She learned a lot about him, Jean was a fitness major at his university and he wanted to be a personal trainer. They connected on a lot of things, they had a lot of the same likes and dislikes which made the conversations they had even greater.

She told Jean about the many shitty experiences she had with guys and how she was very hesitant to even give him a chance. Jean shared a lot of the same stories, he had gotten cheated on about a year prior before getting the app. (Y/N) felt bad for him, why cheat on a nice guy like Jean?

Facetiming him was definitely one of her favorite things to do, she told him about how freaked out she was about trying online dating due to how easy it was to fake an online personality. Jean assured her that was not the case and he wasn't a fake person at all.

Seeing his face on facetime made her heart swell, he was 10x more attractive on facetime than his photos. He had this amazing smile that made her feel weak, and whenever he laughed she found herself having butterflies. Jean thought the same about (Y/N), he thought she was absolutely gorgeous and he wanted to see her face a lot more.

He always threw a flirt her way whenever he could, Jean was smooth like that. He told her if she was ever unsure of an outfit that she was to send him a picture, and when she did, he was absolutely speechless. Sending the usual heart eyes and telling her how beautiful she was. His words always made her smile.

While things were perfect for them, there was one small issue.

They both lived very far from each other.

Opposite coasts to be exact.

Jean lived on the East coast while (Y/N) lived on the west. They lived miles away from each other, and although it wasn't a huge bother, it always made her feel lonely.

Jean felt the same way, he felt lonely being so far away from her. Parts of him wished he lived closer so he could just drive and see her, but with how far it is, he knew it would probably be a very long drive and he just didn't have the time for that. Nor did (Y/N).

They spent many nights talking about dates they'd go on, things they'd do, etc. Jean told her how he would so make a meal for her and he'd take her to meet his mom. All those things sounded so nice, she wanted it to happen so bad.

But they just lived too far from one another.

Plus they both had very busy schedules, both were too caught up with assignments and their own personal lives that flying out wouldn't be exactly a good idea.

It was unfortunate, but that was the reality of the situation.

Even with all of that, they still held onto one another. For some reason, Jean didn't want to let her slip by. For the first time, she made him genuinely happy. (Y/N) felt the same way towards Jean, she always found herself being excited to see his name pop up in her phone or when he asked to facetime. There was just something about this boy she didn't want to let go of. He was the only guy who saw her for who she was, and not just her body.

Neither of them wanted to let this opportunity slip by.

Here they were, seven months later. They still kept up with each other every day, though having not met yet, the feelings they both had never changed.

They weren't dating, but they only talked to each other. Neither had wandering eyes.

It was a usual night for the two of them, (Y/N) and Jean were on facetime while she did homework and Jean sat playing video games. She didn't mind the gaming, it was something he liked to do so why dislike it?

She was copying notes when her eyes averted upwards towards her phone screen which was propped up. Jean was shirtless sitting in his chair, he had his headset on his head with one of the earmuffs behind his ear. He was focused on the game, his brows pinching together a few times as he played.

A giggle escaped her lips, making Jean look down at his phone with a smile.

"What are you giggling about?" he asked, bringing his face close to the camera.

She smiled. "Oh nothin' you just look really cute playing your game," she replied and set her pen down on the desk.

He licked his lips and leaned back against his chair, eyeing the screen. "I'd say you look pretty damn fine doing homework," he replied, raising his brows.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, rolling her eyes in the process. "Ugh shush! I look like a total mess," she said and looked away from the screen.

Jean chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair. "Nah.. you look like the girl who's gonna have my last name," he replied, smirking.

Her jaw dropped from his comment, a smile grew onto her lips as her cheeks felt hot. He was smooth like that.

"You are quite smooth," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Another chuckle escaped his throat. "Yeah I'm smooth.. only for you though," he said, winking at the camera.

"You're adorable.. I wish you were here so I could squeeze your cheeks," she said and played with her pen.

Jean nodded. "I wish I was there with you too.." he said, looking down at the ground. "I'd like my cheeks squeezed but I'd want to squeeze yours.. if you know what I mean," he added.

She started laughing a bit. "Ugh Jean I never get tired of you," she replied, looking at her phone screen. "Will you ever be here?" she asked.

Jean fell silent and leaned back against the chair. A sigh escaping his lips. "I have no idea (Y/N).. my schedule has been busy lately, plus I don't really have the funds to fly out anytime soon." he replied, his voice filled with disappointment.

She felt a slight tug at her heart, she knew they probably wouldn't meet for a long time. Many of her friends told her that Jean wasn't worth her time at all and that she needed someone who could come see her. Her friends also said it's not worth it at all and that he'd probably end up hooking up with some girl, and totally forgetting about her. That's something she absolutely didn't want to think about.

"(Y/N)? You alright?" Jean asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head, blinking a few times. "Y-Yeah! Sorry, I zoned out.." she replied and smiled a bit.

He put his controller on his desk, he stared at the screen for a few moments. "You know (Y/N) I really want to meet you, trust me I do. I know how much it bothers you that we can't at the moment, but I promise you, we will meet some day." he said with a serious expression.

She felt her heart swell at his words, Jean always knew what to say to make her feel like a princess. Jean always said from day one that they would meet, it was a promise he had yet to fulfill, but he told her to never worry and that he'll make it happen. She just has to believe him.

"I trust your words Jean," she said, smiling a bit.

A grin grew onto his face. "Ugh.. this is why I want to meet you so bad. I wanna see that pretty smile in person," he said and leaned against his desk.

Her cheeks felt hot from his words. "You're too sweet," she replied, rolling her eyes playfully.

Jean chuckled. "Sweet enough for you,"

Suddenly, (Y/N) heard her bedroom door fly open.

"Hey (Y/N)!- Oh crap.. did I interrupt something?"

Her head snapped back to see her best friend Sasha standing in the doorway.

"Oh not at all Sash, I was just talking to Jean." (Y/N) replied, looking back at the camera.

Sasha grinned widely, she knew who he was ever since they started talking. Jean was cool with her, he felt like first impressions with friends are always important.

"Hey Jean!" Sasha yelled, coming down to her phone. "Ooo.. (Y/N) he's shirtless for you," she teased, elbowing her side.

Her jaw dropped as her cheeks grew hot again. "Can you not! Why are you even here anyway?" she asked, looking up at her friend.

"Uh duh, I'm here to discuss Valentine's Day plans! You know.. Connie and stuff," she replied in a whisper.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully. "Ugh fine! Hey Jean, is it cool if I call you back later? Sash here needs boy advice," she asked, grabbing her phone.

Jean smiled. "Yeah totally.. text me okay? Be safe." he replied.

She felt a wide smile grow onto her cheeks. "I most definitely will!" she said, hanging up the call.

Sasha leaned against the wall with a giant smirk on her face. (Y/N) looked up, her head nodding as she was confused as to why she was acting like that.

"What?" she asked, furrowing her brows.

A giggle escaped Sasha's lips. "Oh nothing! Ugh (Y/N)! When are you finally going to meet Jean? Have you guys even made it official yet?" she asked.

She looked down. "No.. we haven't made it official. We aren't dating Sasha, we're just talking and stuff." she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Sasha crossed her arms over her chest. "Maybe it's time you do it! You've been talking for months, and I feel like it's a good time. Especially with Valentine's Day and all," she said.

(Y/N) wasn't sure if what Sasha was saying was a good idea. How the hell would she even ask out Jean? Over a facetime call? That sounded boring. It also sounded too cliche and not special at all.

"I would Sash but asking him out over a phone just sounds so.. middle school," she replied and stood up. "It's not like I can fly out and ask him out or whatever," she added.

A grin was displayed onto Sasha's face. "I guess you're right," she said and shrugged her shoulders.

"Now come on… let's go discuss things for Connie," (Y/N) said, pushing past her.

Sasha grinned again, following her friend.

(Y/N) spent most of the week helping Sasha with her Valentine's Day gift for Connie. Sasha had some odd ideas, but eventually they came to an agreement on a decent idea.

For some reason, things felt off with Jean.

The past few days she noticed a change in his behavior, he became a little less interested in their conversations and his replies were a bit dry. Of course she blamed it on him maybe being tired from classes or working out, but she wasn't exactly sure if that was the reason. She questioned it a few times, but Jean usually replied with a 'wym?'.

"(Y/N)!? Hello? Come on help me finish this,"

Sasha's voice broke her out of the thoughts she was having. "Sorry! What's up?" she asked, blinking a bit.

Sasha put the bag of snacks down. "Are you sure you're alright? You've been acting weird all day," she said and crossed her arms.

(Y/N) sighed. "Yes I'm fine Sasha," she replied and leaned back in her chair.

She nodded her head and sat back down in front of her. "Alright.. can you just organize this for me?" she asked, tossing the bag towards her.

(Y/N) grabbed the stuff and began to sort through the items Sasha bought Connie. She wasn't exactly alright, she was feeling lonely the past few days. She saw all of her friends getting ready for Valentine's Day with their significant others, while she didn't have anybody. The pink and red boxes of chocolates, the teddy bears, roses, everything! It made her feel lonely and with Jean's behavior… it didn't exactly make it better.

She looked at her phone which displayed no messages from Jean. For some reason he hasn't been messaging her a lot lately.

2:31 P.M.<- (Y/N): hey :))

4:23 P.M.<- (Y/N): i hope your day is going well! ♡

She sighed and went back to the gift for Connie.

"What are you doing for Valentine's Day, (Y/N)?" Sasha asked and looked up at her.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Probably just watching Netflix movies," she replied with disappointment in her voice.

She nodded her head. "What!? No! You're not gonna do that on my watch. Why don't you come hangout with Connie and I?" she asked.

A laugh escaped her lips. "Yeah I so wanna do that. Watching you two make out and eat is so much fun," she replied in a teasing voice.

Sasha blushed. "Oh shut up! Come on.. I know you won't have anyone to hang with," she said and pouted a bit.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I can always call up Eren or something," she said and laughed a bit.

Sasha hit her arm. "No! You're hanging with me and that's final! Plus why would you wanna hangout with Eren? He'd probably take you to some party," she said.

"Yeah you're probably right," (Y/N) replied, chewing her lip.

She threw her a smile. "Exactly!" she said and went to go look at her phone.

(Y/N) looked on her own phone as she felt disappointed seeing no messages from Jean. She hated double texting him, she felt like she was a bother and that she was annoying him. Maybe he just didn't have his phone on him.

A sudden squeal came from Sasha, which made (Y/N) look up in surprise.

"Uh.. are you okay?" she asked and blinked a bit.

Sasha looked at her, composing herself. "Oh- u-um! Yeah totally, Connie was just telling me something. That's all," she replied and looked down at her phone.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Ugh Connie.." she said, shaking her head.

The next two days were kind of difficult for (Y/N). Jean had totally changed his behavior, he was more dry, took longer to respond, and even on their facetime call he didn't seem very interested. If she did want to facetime, he would claim he was busy or he didn't exactly seem to pay attention.

Her mind raced with different thoughts about the situation. What if Jean was getting tired of her? What if this was the situation all of her friends told her about? How guys who live far end up leaving you for someone who lives near them. It hurt to think about.

"I don't know his behavior just changed!"

She was currently ranting to Sasha who came over for a bit. "He's been dry? I mean.. Connie can be dry," she replied, playing with her pillow.

"No like overly dry, Jean is never dry! He always keeps the conversation going, he doesn't even send me good morning texts anymore either!" she said and sat up.

Sasha nodded as she listened to her words. "Have you tried asking at all?" she asked.

(Y/N) sighed. "I did on facetime and he sort of dodged the question," she replied.

"I dunno (Y/N).. maybe just see what happens? Maybe he's got some personal stuff going on" Sasha said.

(Y/N) shrugged. "Couldn't say.."

A sudden ping from Sasha's phone made her ears chirp, she reached over and looked at her phone. She started jumping around excitedly.

"What? What happened?" (Y/N) asked, furrowing her brows.

Sasha looked at her. "I gotta go! Connie texted me about something.. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she said, shoving her phone in her pocket.

She felt confused as to why Sasha was leaving. "Uh.. yeah, okay. See you later," she replied and watched as Sasha exited her room and out the front door.

She flopped onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling as her mind clouded with thoughts about Jean. Her mind was playing scenarios she didn't want to see, Jean finding someone else would absolutely crush her. In a way, it would be for the best, considering they haven't even met, but she was in too deep with feelings. She didn't want anybody else.

She grabbed her phone, she opened their messages and scrolled to see if there was anything she could have said to make him upset. Jean was always one to communicate with her, he'd always tell her if he was having a bad day or someone pissed him off. Why wasn't he doing that now? Her eyes scanned over the most recent message she sent.

7:21 P.M.<- (Y/N): did you go working out? i bet you're getting those gains! <3 lol.

Another sigh escaped her lips reading the words 'delivered'. What was going with him?

It was Valentine's Day.

(Y/N) wasn't exactly in the best mood today, that feeling of loneliness lingered in her mind as she scrolled through different couples getting gifts and going on special dates. All the things she yearned for.

She sent Jean a message that morning and of course, he didn't respond. He read her messages from the previous night, but he never sent a genuine response. It made her heart feel heavy, maybe this was it. Maybe Jean just got tired of waiting around for her and found someone better.

She shoved her phone into her pocket as she knocked on the door of Sasha's apartment. She looked around as many people exited their apartments.

"Hey! You made it! We have all kinds of snacks!" Sasha yelled, opening the door so she could come inside.

(Y/N) smiled and stepped in. The aroma of food filled her nose. "Wow Sasha.. this smells great," she said, taking off her shoes.

Connie came in from the living room holding a plate. "Hey (Y/N)! Good to see you," he said and waved at her.

She smiled as she plopped down at the kitchen table, she grabbed a few pieces of candy and tossed them into her mouth. She tried to forget the upsetting thoughts for the night.

"You want something to eat?" Sasha asked as she came over with a plate of food.

(Y/N) shook her head. "I'm fine.. thank you Sasha," she replied, looking down at the table.

Connie came over and set a cup of soda in front of her. "Have something to drink at least," he said and sat next to Sasha.

She swirled around the soda that bubbled towards the top. "Thanks.." she replied and took a sip of the lemon flavored soda.

The two started eating and (Y/N) sat there looking at her phone, she silently hoped that Jean would message her back. It had been a few hours since she sent her last message, she felt disappointment going through her veins. She guessed that Jean was ghosting her, it hurt a ton, but there wasn't much she could do.

"(Y/N)! Connie loved the gift!" Sasha said and wiped her mouth with the napkin.

She nodded and gave a small smile. "Oh that's cool! I'm glad you liked it," she replied and looked towards Connie.

He smiled. "Yeah it was dope! It had all my favorite snacks," he said, looking at Sasha with a grin.

(Y/N) felt the heaviness in her heart, she wished someone would look at her the way Connie looked at Sasha.

"Hey what about that Jean guy you were talking to? I meant to ask," Connie asked and looked at her.

She laughed a bit. "Uh.. well I don't know what's going on with that. He's been kind of distant lately so I guess he's getting tired of me. It's understandable I guess.." she replied, looking down at the floor.

They could hear the sorrow in her voice. "I'm sorry (Y/N).. you'll find someone, I know you will." Sasha said.

She shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "I don't know guys.. I feel like after this I just wanna focus on me," she said, taking out her phone.

Connie looked over at her. "Don't say that now.. come on, have some hope." he said and gave a playful smile.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'll try," she replied.

Sasha and Connie finished up their food and cleaned the dishes, (Y/N) sat on the couch as the movie played on the tv. It was some romantic movie which she didn't even bother to pay attention to, she didn't exactly want to watch one at the moment.

Sasha appeared in the living room, she had her phone in her hand. "Hey whatcha doing?" she asked, leaning over to look at her phone.

"Oh nothing, just scrolling through Instagram," (Y/N) replied and clicked her phone off.

A ping went off as Sasha got a notification, she looked at her phone as a grin displayed on her features making (Y/N) curious.

"Did Connie send you nudes in the bathroom or something?" she asked and began to laugh.

A blush crept onto Sasha's cheeks. "What!? Absolutely not! You're so gross (Y/N)!" she yelled, hitting her arm. "Let's play a game, I'm bored." she added and stood up.

(Y/N) nodded. "A game? Sasha I'm not twelve.." she said and leaned against the couch.

Sasha came in with what seemed to be a blindfold. "Come on! It's fun okay? You just have to feel something and guess what it is," she said, crossing her arms.

"A blindfold? Jeez Sash.. didn't know you and Connie were into blindfolds," she said, starting to laugh.

Sasha hit her arm playfully. "Shut up! No I'm not into blindfolds.. you're gross! Just come here," she said and waved her over.

(Y/N) stood up and tossed her phone onto the couch. She walked over to Sasha who seemed excited to play, she hoped that this game wouldn't be weird.

"Alright.. let's get started," Sasha said, going behind her to tie the blindfold over her eyes.

She faintly heard the sound of the front door opening, she was confused as to who came in. Then she remembered Connie went to go throw out the garbage, so she figured it was Connie coming back in.

"Okay first thing!" Sasha said and held out the item for her to touch.

(Y/N)'s fingers brushed over the item, it felt cold. It felt like plastic too, was it a box? It felt smooth.

"Is this like.. a box or something?" she asked, looking around with the blindfold on.

She heard giggles and laughs coming from Connie and Sasha. "Yeah it's a box! Here's the next item," Sasha said.

Her fingers brushed over the soft material, it felt velvety and smooth. It felt like petals from a flower.

"Are these flowers?" she asked.

"Damn (Y/N)! You're good at this! Here's the last thing," Connie said, his voice sounding faded.

She furrowed her brows as she heard whispering and shuffling, she was tempted to remove the blindfold to see if they were playing a prank.

"Okay here," Sasha said.

She reached out feeling something hard, it felt like.. a chest? Her brows furrowed again as she ran her fingers along it.

"Sasha is this your chest? Connie is definitely not this muscular," (Y/N) asked, looking around for their voices.

Sasha giggled. "No it's not me! You can take your blindfold off in a sec," she said, taking out her phone.

(Y/N) felt nervous as she kept her hands on the person's chest, they felt warm and she could feel their heart racing against her skin.

"Okay now!" Sasha yelled.

(Y/N) removed her blindfold, letting her eyes adjust. When she looked up she was faced with the honey eyes of the person she least expected.

It was Jean.

Her jaw dropped as her hands slapped over her mouth, she couldn't believe it. He held in his hands flowers and a box of chocolate, the flowers being her favorite. Roses. He stood there smiling at her reaction, she looked back seeing Sasha recording and Connie laughing.

"You're real.." (Y/N) said, looking at Jean with wide eyes.

He smiled. "I'm real," he replied, opening his arms for her.

She tackled him with a bone crushing hug, his arms wrapping around her waist surrounding her in his embrace. She inhaled his scent and let his warmth engulf her.

Tears welled in her hues as she put her hands onto his face. "Pinch me please.." she said and laughed a bit.

Jean chuckled, cupping her cheek. "I don't think you're dreaming," he replied, pulling her closer.

"This is so cute I feel like a proud mom," Sasha said as she kept recording.

(Y/N) looked back. "H-How? How did you get him here?" she asked and nodded.

Connie rubbed the back of his neck. "We actually were both in on it, we paid for his ticket and everything. He's staying at my place actually," he said, smiling at her.

"Sasha planned the game too," Jean added and looked towards the brunette.

(Y/N) pulled Sasha into a tight hug. "I literally love you right now," she said as a few tears escaped down her cheeks.

"Uh (Y/N)! I think you should be the one telling him that," Sasha said, pointing at Jean.

She came back over to Jean who handed her the flowers. "Someone as beautiful as you are deserves these in person. Happy Valentine's Day beautiful," he said, smiling down at her.

She laughed as she took the flowers, her heart swelling. "Thank you really.." she replied, pulling him into another hug.

He put his arms around her, he felt his heart flutter as he felt her touch. "Do you want to..?"

"Get out of here?" she asked, nodding.

The two looked back at Sasha and Connie. "Knock yourselves out! Don't have too much fun (Y/N).." Connie said and smirked devilishly.

Heat rushed onto her cheeks. "I'd like to say the same to you both," Jean said, putting his arm around her shoulder.

Connie and Sasha both turned red. "Okay! Bye Jean and (Y/N)! Have fun!" Sasha said and ran out of the room.

They both turned to one another, laughs escaping both of their lips. "Let's go," she said, fishing around her pockets for her car keys.

Jean followed her out of Sasha's apartment building to her car, his hands brushing over her fingers a few times making her cheeks hot.

Once in the car, she began the drive back to her apartment. She couldn't keep her eyes off Jean, he looked so much better in person. All of his features stood out, his jawline, his hair, and his amazing eyes.

"You know.. you're 100x more beautiful in person," Jean said, breaking the silence between them.

She smiled. "Thank you… you're 100x more handsome," she replied and looked over at the passenger side.

Jean felt his cheeks grow red from her words. "I never thought in a million years I'd meet you this soon," he said and leaned back in his seat.

She laughed a bit. "I could say the same.. Sasha told me nothing about this," she replied, turning the steering wheel.

A chuckle erupted in his throat. "It was meant to be kept secret. Connie and Sasha both messaged me about it and I was in," he said.

"I thought you were ghosting me at first.. I was so bummed at her house,"

Jean looked over at her. "Oh never.. I'd never ghost you. Connie told me to just put distance so it wouldn't seem weird," he said, brushing his fingers over her arm.

Tingles ran around her body as he touched her. "I should have known something was up," she said and shook her head. "Anyway, we're here." she added, taking off her seatbelt.

Jean exited the car with her. He followed her up the stairs to her apartment. She opened the door and removed her shoes, Jean stepped in and eyed the room. She kept it clean and organized.

"Nice place," Jean said and smiled at her.

She looked back at him. "Oh thank you.. it means a lot," she replied, placing his gifts on the counter.

The two stood there for a moment just taking in their appearances. She felt her heart racing as Jean stood there eyeing her.

"So um.. what do you wanna do?" Jean asked, looking down at her.

She leaned against the wall. "I dunno.. maybe we can watch a movie in bed?" she asked, nodding.

"Sounds like a plan.. I gotta call Connie. He needs to drop my shit off in the morning if I'm sleeping here," he said and took out his phone.

(Y/N) rocked on her heels. "Sounds good! Um.. I'll be right back, I'm gonna change." she replied and made her way to her room.

Jean texted Connie and within seconds he responded with an 'ok'. He walked towards the room where (Y/N) was, her room was decorated nicely. She knew how to keep it clean. He noticed the familiar sights he used to see on facetime.

She came from the bathroom wearing shorts and a t-shirt. "Come sit," she said and hopped on her bed.

Jean felt stiff, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable or make any moves that were too quick.

"So uh… what kind of movie do you wanna watch?" he asked, looking at her nervously.

"Hmm.. horror?" she replied, looking back at him as she turned on the tv.

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan," he said and leaned back against the pillows on her bed.

She put on one of the horror movies and lied down next to him, her hands brushed over his arm veins. She traced lines where his muscles were. Goosebumps littered onto his skin feeling her touch.

"Don't be so stiff.. you aren't going to hurt me," (Y/N) said leaning up a bit.

He felt his nerves loosen up at her words. "Sorry.. I just don't wanna come off as a creep," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

She giggled, moving his arm so it was now around her waist. "You aren't a creep to me at all," she said, laying her head on his chest.

Jean's grip on her waist tightened as he brought her body closer to his. He imagined nights like these for so long, his arms around her holding her close so she never slips away.

She felt so warm next to him.

As the night went on, (Y/N) felt her eyes become droopy. She started to snooze against his chest, Jean smiled hearing her small snores and the way she twitched. He turned off the lamp and pulled the covers over the two of them.

The next morning Jean was awoken by (Y/N) moving out of his embrace. Her eyes trying to get used to the light that shone into her room, she grabbed her phone, the time reading 10:12 A.M.

She turned over to look at Jean who was awake. A giggle escaped her lips as she cuddled back into him.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep," she said and traced his muscles with her fingers.

He squeezed the flesh of her waist. "Don't worry about it," he replied and lied his chin onto her head. "What do you wanna do today, beautiful?" he asked.

She sighed. "Do you wanna just relax and chill? We don't have to go anywhere," she replied, looking up at him.

"Sounds fine by me," Jean said, staring up at the ceiling.

The two lied there for a few minutes before deciding to get dressed and ready for the day, Jean noticed his suitcases were at the front door. (Y/N) told him that Sasha had a spare key so she most likely stopped by while they were asleep. It made him laugh but also a little weirded out.

They both changed and lied around (Y/N)'s place, they took many photos together and goofed off. She never felt happier than she did in those moments, Jean didn't want to stop touching her. He loved feeling her smooth skin against his, he held her hand or brushed against her arm. Not in a creepy way of course.

It was around 6:30 in the afternoon, Jean and (Y/N) messed around in her apartment for most of the day. Watching movies, ordering food, taking photos, etc. It had been an amazing day.

"Hey Jean.." (Y/N) said, reaching up to play with the strands of his hair.

He looked down at her. "What's up?" he asked.

She smiled. "Do you wanna go to the pier near my house? We can watch the sunset," she asked, nodding her head.

His face lit up with excitement. "Hell yes! Let's go right now," he replied.

The two rushed out of the apartment and went to her car, the sun was going to set pretty soon, so they wanted to get to the pier at a decent time to see it all.

The car ride was fun, the two blasted music and sang along with the words.

Eventually, the two arrived at the pier. Many people walked along the sidewalks with each other, the summer air felt nice. Jean held her hand as they made their way up to the dock, some people leaned along the sides talking with one another.

The sun shined onto their faces, Jean's honey eyes looked like pure gold as the sun passed through them.

The tide from the waves crashed below them the seagulls flew in the sky or onto the ground.

"It's so pretty.." (Y/N) said, smiling as she leaned against the railing staring at the setting sun.

Jean admired the sky as it was painted with purples and oranges. "Yeah.. but not as pretty as you are," he said and held her hand in his.

She looked absolutely stunning to him. The way the sun shined over her skin and the way the wind lightly blew along her hair made his heart swell.

She was truly the most beautiful girl he ever laid his eyes on.

"I always imagined coming here with you.. it was my dream date," she said and smiled.

Jean took her hand into his. "Can I ask you something?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "Of course Jean," she replied and brushed a few strands of hair out of his face.

He let out a shaky breath. "(Y/N)... I never thought I'd ever get to meet you, but now that I have I realized how amazing you are. You're so beautiful.. don't even get me started on your smile either. You've made today so great and I've been meaning to ask you this question for so long. My feelings for you are strong and I can't imagine my life without you by my side," he said. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

She felt her heart burst at his words, she couldn't deny what she felt for Jean. "Yes! Yes!" she replied, putting her arms around his neck.

He smiled as he put his arms around her waist. "I love you.." he whispered.

Her eyes went wide. "I love you too.." she said, leaning into his face and pressing her lips onto his.

The kiss was passionate, his lips felt smooth and soft. It took her breath away.

"I promise I'll make you feel like a princess," Jean said and cupped her cheek. "I'll never let you go," he added.

She felt small tears form into her eyes. "I'll never let you go either," she said and smiled at him.

They stood there for awhile watching as the sun slowly disappeared behind the clouds, the sky painted in bright oranges and dark blues.

Arriving back home they both rushed up the stairs to her apartment. She unlocked it and pulled him into a heated kiss, the kiss feeling hot.

Jean made his way to the couch, his hands on her hips. "I didn't know you were this good of a kisser.." he whispered, smirking as he kissed her.

"I guess we're both full of surprises," she replied and put her arms around his neck.

He sat down on the couch, her thighs on either side of his legs. "Wait.." Jean said, breaking the kiss between them. "I need to mention one more thing," he added, looking up at her.

She nodded. "What's up?" she asked.

He felt a smile grow onto his lips. "I know I leave in two days but.. I wanted to let you know that I was pricing apartments around here as well as schooling.. and I found out I got accepted," he said.

Her jaw dropped hearing the news. "What!? No way! You're lying! Does that mean.." she said.

"I won't be far away anymore my love," he replied, cupping her cheek. "It's gonna take awhile for me to move in, but I should be here by the end of next month."

She felt excitement coursing through her. "That's great!" she said.

"I mean it when I say it that I do love you (Y/N).. it's not me saying that to impress you, I truly do." he said, smiling at her. "I can't imagine myself with anyone else. I want a future with you," he added.

She felt a smile grow onto her cheeks. "I love you too Jean… I want you with me forever," she said, running her fingers along his face.

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her lips. "Your wish is granted baby," he said and pressed his lips against hers.

She giggled, leaning down towards him. "What do you say we celebrate?" she asked, smirking.

He eyed her hungrily. "Oh you wanna be like that huh? Consider it your special Valentine's Day treat," he replied, bringing her body close to his.

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #Jean Kirschstein #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #anime fanfic #ugh i loved this

569 notes · View notes

youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Note

75+95 with Jason Todd?

I hope you don’t mind I’m adding 56 and 2 from another request because in my head they fit perfectly.

2. “Can I kiss you?”

56. Those period shirts with the puffy sleeves and the deep v and one staring at the other like… oh no he/she’s hot.

75. Speaks in a terrible Shakespearean/Elizabethan style to woo/make the other laugh

95. “Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?”

“What if it doesn’t fit? Or what if I rip it?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one worrying about that?” you joked.

Jason glared at you. “Don’t be silly.”

“You might be huge,” you conceded, “but the shirt will fit, don’t worry.”

“What do I get if it doesn’t?”

“Uhmmmm...” You tapped your chin as you tried to come up with something. “A learning lesson to stop working out like a lunatic?”

“No way.” He shook his head. “I sleep like baby now.”

You shrugged, palms up in a ‘what do you want me to do then?’ gesture.

It would be the first time you tried your costumes on and everybody was a little nervous, but Jason looked like he was going to explode.

You were called before he was and now he was left with only Roy who had already told him to stop being dramatic and his nerves.

His costume should’ve fit him just fine — after all, yours did. You expected it to be tight, but perhaps it was time to learn a lesson yourself and stop expecting the worst.

Jason was already outside, all by himself. You could only assume it was Roy’s and Artemis’s turn.

The shirt fit him perfectly and now you wished he had been right. He looked way too good for no reason.

The v-neck served as a window to his hard chest and the puffy shirt made him look even taller than he was.

Life was being unfair to you. Nobody should’ve looked that hot in a cheap costume.

Realizing you were staring, you briefly deviated your gaze behind him where the door was still closed. “Well, looks like it fit.”

Jason blinked rapidly. It took him a few seconds to answer, “It fits you really well.”

“I— uh... I was talking about you.”

“Ah.” Jason looked down at his shirt. “Well, it didn’t pop...”

“I’m kinda sad you didn’t get to embarrass yourself.”

“Is that what does it for you? People embarrassing themselves?”

“Nah, I just like making fun of you.”

He gasped, bringing a hand to his chest to add flare. “You did wind me, h're I am baring mine own soul to thee and this is how thee payeth me.”

You went along with it. “How can I maketh t up to thee?”

“I’m not sure mine own broken heart can beest mend'd. ”

Biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing, you peered up at him. Such a bad idea; why were you torturing yourself like this? Why did he have to look so hot? “There has to be something.”

Swallowing his spit, he dropped the act and bluntly asked, “Can I kiss you?”

“Sure.”

Jason didn’t have to be told twice. He cupped your face in both hands and brought your face closer to his. Slowly, he kissed you.

But neither of you wanted slow, he was just being polite to not scare you away — it became clear rather quickly as the kiss grew heated and your hands wandered up his arms.

He rendered you breathless whilst he grabbed you by the back of your head and angled your face to kiss you harder.

“Fuck,” you panted.

He nibbled on your bottom lip teasingly before pulling away. “Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?”

“Every single day.”

He playfully rolled his eyes. “We sh—“

Roy interrupted him, patting his back as he stood beside him, “Are we still playing video games tonight?”

“No.”

“What?” Roy teased, “you’re busy later or something?”

Jason didn’t take his eyes off you as he answered, “Hopefully.”

#jason todd x reader #x plus size reader

182 notes · View notes

justthehiddleswrites · 4 years

Text

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 1 | Living Well is the Best Revenge or Just Trip Her on the Red Carpet

A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom is in Vegas to present at a music awards ceremony and what do you know his high profile ex girlfriend is nominated for two awards. And the press are having a field day. Molly Bishop is grateful for the awards show because it means extra tips and getting her closer to paying off her student debt. An offhand comment by Luke coupled with an encounter with his old girlfriend has Tom’s mental wheels turning. Perhaps he and Molly can solve each other’s problem. All they have to do is get married.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!

Tom dreaded turning his phone back on when the plane landed at McCarran airport. He knew what waited for him on the other side. Tom wondered if his publicist would buy the story he left his phone back at the bar in Heathrow. Probably not, he had tried that earlier in the year and Luke went ballistic until he came clean. He did not want a repeat of the earful he got back then. With a sigh, Tom switched on his mobile and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans, vibrating as messages and emails came in.

Tom never imagined the relationship would end like this. He thought he was in love. He thought she was in love. But it had all been what were the words she used “escape hatch”. Tom had been a means to an end. And the punishment for his naivete was a news cycle that would not die. And that photo.

He waited until he was in the car on his way to the Bellagio before checking his messages. There were a series of several text messages from Luke.

Call me when you get to your hotel room.

Don’t read the papers.

Don’t talk to any reporters.

Don’t do anything until you talk to me.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his sunglasses.

“Fuck!” he hissed under his breath.

This meant only one thing. Another story. Maybe more pictures. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she was attending the same awards show. It ventured to guess the papers would play that up. Tom slumped against the car seat for the rest of the ride.

Check in went fine at the VIP check in. One perk of not only being a celebrity, but a presenter at the awards show. The bellhop delivered Tom’s luggage and garment bag. He pulled the outfit for tomorrow and hung it up, just like Illaria told him to. It was only when he flopped onto the sectional couch, Tom called Luke.

“I’ve been waiting for your phone call.” Luke deadpanned. “I started to worry you would pull that ‘I left my phone at the airport bar’ story.”

“I did cross my mind.” Tom let his head hit the back of the sofa. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really.” Luke winced. “They used the photo again.”

“Of course they fucking did!” Tom punched a nearby pillow. “I look like a twat. Luke, I need this to stop.”

Luke sighed. “Until something comes along that is better than this, expect it to hang around for a while. Unless you are planning on getting married in the next two days.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Not bloody likely.” He sighed again. “Thanks for everything Luke.”

“It’s my job, mate. But you’re welcome.”

After Tom hung up, he stared first at the phone in his hand and then at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he got here, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to get out. Tom decided instead to wallow in self-pity and eat a ridiculously expensive room service steak.

Weekends were always busy when there were special events over at the MGM arena. This weekend was no exception. And while it may not be good for Molly’s back, her bank account greeted every penny with a smile. Vegas may be a cheap place to live, but it still costs money. And her college did not accept IOUs for student loans. She shoved more tips into the jar behind the bar and helped the next person.

“What’ll be?”

“Whatever you have that is strong and on tap.” Tom’s smooth voice cut over the din of slot machines and video poker machines.

“Coming right up.” Molly poured him a beer, and he signed the receipt with his room number before sliding to the end of the bar.

Three hours later, Tom still sat at the end of the bar, nursing the same beer. Most of the crowd dissipated at this point. Celebrities needed their beauty sleep. Or at least most of them.

“Would you like to switch that one out for a cold one?” She leaned over, smiling. “On the house.”

“Sorry.” Tom blinked and glanced around, looking for a clock Molly imagined.

“No clocks.” she commented. “Or windows.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“The whole point of casinos is to keep people inside. Clocks and windows help people realize how much time has passed.” Molly replaced his beer. “The whole place is set up like a maze.”

Tom took a long draw of the fresh beer. “You seem to know an awful lot about casinos for a bartender.”

“You seem awfully forward for a movie star.” she snapped back. Tom’s eyes met yours. She shrugged her shoulders. “I have a friend who works at Regal Cinema, they let me in for free.”

“I’m having a bad day.” Tom muttered back. “You still didn’t answer the question.” He took another long draw, leaving the glass half empty.

“Oh, so we are adding pushy to your resume. I thought Brits were supposed to be charming. If you must know, I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Tourism from Arizona State.”

Tom opened his mouth to comment, but Molly cut him off.

“Funny thing about the tourism industry. You need experience to get a job, but you can’t get experience without having a job. Classic catch-22. Which does not pay my bills. So I bartend until I get hired somewhere.”

Tom felt like a prize idiot moping about his problems. He cleared his throat. “Apologies for my earlier behavior. I have been in a poor mood for the last several weeks and it has made me a terrible companion and customer.”

Molly smiled at him. The first truly friendly face in a while. “It’s fine. And you are entitled to a bad day.” She filled up his glass. “Once or twice. Share your troubles with me. Unless it is about which supermodel you should date next, then I don’t want to hear it.” she joked. Tom’s face fell. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Tom held up a hand. “Please don’t apologize. I take it you don’t read the magazines.”

“As a matter of course, no I don’t.” Suddenly a lightbulb went off. “Oh…”

Tom twisted his face into an exaggerated expression. “‘Oh’ is right. Usually followed by the words ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’.”

“And is she…”

Tom drained the glass. “Yep. Nominated for two awards.”

“Yikes! Well, if there is anything I can do, I am here all weekend.”

Tom stood up and left several twenty-dollar bills. “I might take you up on that. Thank you again for the conversation… I didn’t catch your name.”

“Molly Bishop”. she said, clearing his glass.

Tom offered his hand, and she shook it. “Tom.”

“I know.” she leaned in, her dark brown hair falling to the sides of her face. “Remember, you’re a movie star.”

Tom laughed. A real belly laugh. So loud that it jolted the old man at the other end of the bar awake. “I needed that. Thank you again. Have a good evening, day, morning.”

“It’s evening. Goodnight, Tom. Sleep well.”

Tom headed back towards the bank of elevators. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Molly wipe down where he had been sitting, shove the twenties into a tip jar, while tucking her hair behind her ears and help an obviously drunk couple. Tom made a mental note to find her again before he flew back and leave an even bigger tip.

Tom woke up the next morning and headed down to the gym to run on the treadmill. He would have preferred running outside but wanted to avoid people. After running five miles, he switched the machine off, wiped it and him down and headed upstairs to shower and change for the day. Tom wandered back downstairs in search of Molly, but the bartender on duty, a guy named Seth, mentioned she wouldn’t be back until the evening. Tom thanked him and headed back upstairs.

He was restless until it was time to get ready. After dressing, he took a selfie in the mirror and sent it to Illaria who confirmed he did it right. Now came the waiting game. Tom wanted to time it to avoid having to see her at all. Finally deciding he had wanted long enough, Tom called for the car and headed downstairs. What Tom forgot to account for was his incredible bad luck.

He arrived right after her and was forced to walk the red carpet, watching her out of the corner of his eye, with her arm linked around whatever man, boy, prey she ensnared for the evening. Tom plastered a killer smile on his face and continued to repeat the mantra in his head “Living well is the best revenge” when all he wanted to do is either trip her or return to his hotel room and eat an inordinate amount of chocolate cake.

The rest of the awards show blurred together into moments of white hot rage masked by a cool exterior and numbness. Thank god for the teleprompter or else Tom wondered if he would have made it through his presentation. But he did and thought he made it through the entire event without running into her and then…

“Tom!” her voice called out.

Tom froze and stiffened. What a difference a few weeks can make.

“Darling!” He spun on his heel to face her, smile firmly in place. He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “It’s good to see you. You look good.” he lied through his teeth.

“You too. I thought I might miss you. I just wanted to say—”

Tom waved her off. “Water under the bridge.” Another lie. Perhaps he missed his calling as a barrister or even a publicist. “Your date seems nice.”

She smiled. That smile that once melted his heart. “Thanks. He is. Where’s your—”

“Back at the hotel.” He checked his watch. “Which reminds me, I should head back. Big plans for the night.”

She blinked, and stutter stepped back. “Oh. Right.” She composed herself. “Well, it was nice to see you again. I hope we can be friends.” She held her arms open.

Fucking friends! Tom howled inside his mind. What was she playing at? More fodder for her songs? Tom seethed on the inside. He stepped forward to awkwardly hug her, praying there was no one around to snap a photo. Knowing her, though, she probably had someone in the balcony with a zoom lens.

“Of course, love.” He squeezed her a little too tight until she let loose a small yelp of pain. Tom allowed a genuine smile to come across his face. “I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the after party.” He walked away before she could continue on the conversation.

He waited until he was well out of earshot. “Bitch.”

The crowd started waning around 9:30 as the awards show let out. Molly figured most of the attendees would hit the after parties and things would pick up around 1 or 2 a.m. Until then, it would just be the regulars. She turned around to arrange the glasses she just cleaned when a now familiar voice rang out.

“Marry me.” Tom asked, his tie loosened.

“I don’t know you.” Molly teased back. “Now what will you have?”

“You as my wife.” Tom repeated, his palm flattened against the bar.

“Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you drunk?”

Tom shook his head. “Stone cold sober. Hear me out.”

She glanced around, seeing no plausible escape. “I’m listening. But if another customer comes up, I’m walking away.”

“I need something to move the paparazzi off this current news cycle with me.”

Molly smirked. “You ran into the ex. Did she have a new boy toy on her arm?”

“Yes, but that is beside the point.”

“It is entirely the point.”

Tom slammed his hand against the bar, rattling the container of nuts nearby. “Can I continue or are you going to keep interrupting?”

Molly crossed her arms. “Go on.”

“I need something to move the press off this story. You need money. We are the solution to each other’s problems.”

“You may be gorgeous, but if you think I am sleeping with you for money…”

“I never said sex. I said marriage. The last I checked, they could be mutually exclusive.” Tom’s expression softened. “Listen, you are clearly unhappy here. I am unhappy too. If us being together could alleviate a bit of that unhappiness, why wouldn’t we seize the opportunity? We get married. Get the paparazzi off my back. I would pay off your student loans and credit cards. And then after a year of living together, we quietly divorce. No sex. Just a business relationship.”

Molly chewed over what Tom said, while chewing on her bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong, she was unhappy. Vegas was supposed to be a brand new start, but it was more of the same. Dead end job and no career prospects on the horizon.”

“Did you say live together?”

“In London, yes. I have plenty of room. Your own space. You have a passport.”

“Yes.”

Tom’s face broke out in a wide grin. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The blood pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes.

“Will you marry me, Molly Bishop?”

“Yes.” she smiled back.

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s get going, because the licensing bureau closes at midnight.”

Molly headed over to the manager, Nick.

“I quit.” she shoved her apron at him.

“What? You can’t quit, Molly. The big rush is coming.”

“You heard the lady.” Tom called. “She quits.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Her fiancé. Come on, darling.” Tom held out his hand. She lifted up the bar at the entrance and took his hand.

The two of you were full of nervous energy the entire cab ride to the licensing bureau, fitting right in with the other couples waiting to get a license. While you waited in line, Tom made some calls to several chapels until he found one open and able to squeeze the two of you in.

“Now all we need is to get you a dress and some rings.”

“Oh!” Molly dug through her purse. “My friend’s kid gave these to me.” She pulled out two plastic rings. “I think these will do in a pinch.”

Tom closed his hand over hers. “I’ll buy us proper rings tomorrow. Now a dress.”

“There’s a mall on the way. I can grab something on the way.” Tom kissed Molly’s forehead.

“You are brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

Within an hour, Molly was wearing a simple white slip dress, Tom still in his suit from the awards show, although he did straighten up the tie. She smiled like a fool, holding onto a fake bouquet and Tom’s wedding ring, complete with a plastic spider in her hand.

Tom slipped on the plastic gem ring when the minister told him to, and she did the same with the spider ring. Tom giggled and so did Molly .

“I now pronounce husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Tom leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. His lips were warm and soft. It was… nice. Under other circumstances, she imagined Tom would be an excellent kisser.

Tom gazed down at her. “Hello, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston angst #accidently married

321 notes · View notes

vampiregirl1797 · 4 years

Text

All Because of a Jacket

Stiles x Reader

GIF Not Mine

Summary: A collection of the times Stiles lends Y/N his lacrosse jacket.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,039

A/N: I have no idea where this came from guys. Actually, I do—I ordered myself a Stiles lacrosse jacket and I’ve been living in it since it came, so that’s most likely what inspired this little imagine. I hope you enjoy it! Leaving a link HERE to the jacket I got off Etsy if you’re interested—I cannot recommend it enough!

Click Here For my Masterlist.

It started off subtle, something I didn’t notice at first, and was merely grateful for. The pack had met in the middle of the lacrosse field on a Sunday evening, the location chosen as a way of avoiding any police cruisers who were out enforcing the town-wide 9pm curfew. Still, I didn’t understand why we couldn’t just have met at someone’s house, though I suppose that did run the risk of neighbours ratting us out.

I’d been trying to listen to what Scott was saying, and the whole reason we were gathered in the middle of the freezing cold lacrosse field in January, but I couldn’t bring myself to focus. It was my own fault, really. I’d assumed we’d go inside the school once we’d all gathered together, which was why I’d forgone grabbing a jacket as I left my house. Now, I was there, scrunching the sleeves of my jumper in a vain attempt to retain some heat and reverse the cold settling in on my bones. I had my arms crossed over my chest, and was seriously considering just wrapping my arms around Derek and burying my face into his back—he wouldn’t have minded and the man gave off more heat than a damn space heater, but I was startled out of my thoughts by a curtain of warmth being wrapped around me. I blinked, surprised and my eyes fluttered closed for a second in complete and utter relief, before my brain registered that the wonderfully warm jacket hadn’t just landed on my shoulders of its own accord. I looked to my left and straight into a particular pair of honey brown eyes that I was more than a little fond of. His eyes were soft at that moment, and when I murmured a quiet thank you, he responded with a bashful smile that made my heart skip a beat in my chest.

As I slid my arms through the long sleeves of Stiles’ lacrosse jacket and buttoned up the front in an attempt to retain the warmth the sarcastic boy’s body had provided, I found myself grateful that Stiles, like me, was one of the only humans of the group. It meant that I’d been able to successfully keep my more than platonic feelings from him. Of course, he was the only one who didn’t know.

I narrowed my eyes at Derek’s teasing, barely there, smile and discretely flipped him off by scratching my nose with my middle finger. The action didn’t go unmissed by the blue-eyed wolf and he breathed a chuckle before returning his attention to the alpha in front of the group.

My cold state now taken care of, I was able to concentrate on Scott’s words, subconsciously stepping closer to Stiles as I listened, my body seeking out the comfort his presence always provided me with without my consent.

That was the first time Stiles gave me his jacket.

The second time had been during a “stake-out” with Liam and Stiles. The honey-eyed boy was adamant that there was something off with Theo, and honestly I hadn’t got the best feeling about him popping into our lives out of nowhere for one, adding in the fact he was also a werewolf… well it was just too much of a coincidence.

‘I’m telling you, there’s something not right about him, Y/N.’ Stiles said, for what must have been the hundredth time in the last four hours.

‘Stiles.’ My hand covered his on the steering wheel, and I felt us both immediately relax at the touch, ‘I believe you, okay? You don’t need to convince me of anything. If you say there’s something off with Theo, I’m not going to question it.’

His usually honey-brown eyes were dark with emotion as his hand squeezed mine, ‘why? Why do you believe me?’

‘Because you have great instincts and I trust you and your opinions more than anyone else’s.’ I told him honestly.

I felt my heart beat pick up the longer his eyes bore into mine, but I refused to look away, even knowing that Liam was probably smiling in the same smug way all the werewolves had mastered whenever my heart misbehaved around Stiles. What felt like hours later, Stiles blinked and bought my hands in-between both of his.

At my look of confusion, he elaborated, ‘you’re freezing.’

‘Huh, I didn’t even notice.’ I shrugged, trying to fight the blush forming on my cheeks at what felt like an intimate gesture.

He opened his hands a little so he could blow some hot air onto mine, and the warmth generated from the act seemed to travel through my whole body.

‘Better?’ he asked after a few minutes of repeating the gesture.

I cleared my throat and kept my answer short, not trusting my voice, ‘much. Thank you.’

‘No problem.’ He released my hands and I slid them underneath my thighs to retain the heat he’d created.

My eyes moved over to where we’d been watching for most of the night, to see Theo was still playing his video game, like he had been for most of the night. It made me frown; sure video games were what teenagers usually did, but it just seemed too convenient to me. I was about to voice my opinion to Stiles and Liam when familiar cotton was placed onto my shoulders. My arms moved through the sleeves almost reflexively as I offered my best friend a grateful smile, and tried to resist the urge to bury my face into the fabric to inhale his sweet and husky scent.

‘Thank you.’

‘Can’t have you freezing on me.’ He joked his hand squeezing my thigh briefly before returning it to the steering wheel.

I couldn’t have stopped the blush that formed on my cheeks if I tried, so I turned my gaze to stare out of the window, my hand resting where his had touched me, and I wondered— if I were to remove the denim barrier provided by my jeans, would my thigh display a brand of his hand print?

Because the heat left behind by his touch felt exactly like I had been branded as his.

The third time had been in the cafeteria.

We were all sitting together, minus Derek and Liam, and all having different conversations in our own little groups. Allison and Isaac were making weekend plans, provided she could sneak out without her father noticing, Lydia, Aiden, Ethan and Danny were talking about something they could all do together on a double date, and Stiles, Scott and I were all talking about collages we wanted to apply to. Well, they were. I was trying not to fall asleep using my sandwich as a pillow; I’d been up late the night before, helping Stiles put together his criminal bored. Nothing had been solved, but we both found it helpful to have everything, every clue, and every detail all in one place.

Of course, time had gotten away from us, and our party had been broken up by the Sherriff returning from his shift and gently informing us it was past three am. I’d been too tired to drive home and had slept on the couch, but two hours sleep wasn’t enough time for me, unlike Stiles; he was as hyperactive as ever.

I pushed my tray away from me with a sigh, too tired to eat anyway, and laid my head down on top of my arms. I’d heard a few chuckles from the pack, but I ignored it; they knew how I could be when I was tired so they just left me to it. I was on the brink of passing out, knowing someone would wake me for our next class, when I found myself surrounded by what was becoming my favourite jacket emitting warmth and a scent I couldn’t get enough of. I slid my arms into the sleeves and nuzzled my face into the fabric once I’d returned them to my original position. Had I been fully conscious of my actions, I’d have been embarrassed at my audience, but the chuckles simply faded into nothing as I finally found sleep.

What I hadn’t noticed was Stiles’ fond smile, or the knowing and frustrated expressions the rest of the pack wore.

The fourth time had been during a lacrosse game.

I’d been standing in the bleachers, wearing a jacket that was not keeping me warm in the slightest and discretely trying to huddle closer to Malia—she gave off as much heat as her uncle did—when I’d heard Stiles shouting my name.

I’d frowned, but manoeuvred my way out of the row I’d been sat in and made my way down to the benches, where he was waiting. He was holding his helmet under his arm and when I reached him, he held out his jacket and I took it, but didn’t put it on in case I’d misunderstood his meaning. Did he want me to give it to Malia? I’d noticed they’d been particularly close since she had joined the pack, and as much as it made my heart ache, I was glad the female wolf had someone to offer her comfort when she’d been without it for so long.

‘I noticed it’s pretty cold and figured you could use a jacket.’ He said, seeming nervous.

I felt a genuine smile form on my lips as I slid the cotton on and buttoned up the front, ‘thank you. I feel like I should rent this from you with how often I wear it.’ I chuckled, pulling my hair out from underneath the fabric.

He joined me in my laughter, ‘nah, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like seeing you in my jacket.’ He looked nervous again and my heart skipped a beat in my chest.

Did he mean…? ‘You do?’ I asked, my voice quiet to my own ears.

‘I do,’ he stepped closer and I felt wonderfully dizzy as a stronger wave of his heat and scent washed over me, ‘Y/N…I’ve liked you for a while. As more than a friend, and I’ve been too scared to say anything, but Scott practically threatened to kill me if I didn’t admit it to you.’

‘You like me?’ I repeated, dumbfounded. How had I missed it? Had I been so preoccupied in hiding my own feelings that I’d been blind to his?

‘Yes.’ He looked more nervous now and I found myself reaching out, my hands falling on top of his in an attempt to comfort him.

‘Stiles…’ I took a breath, finding the courage to say the words I’d been holding in for so long, ‘I like you too.’

His honey-coloured eyes bore into mine for what felt like hours, but in reality it was only a few seconds, before his lips formed a face splitting grin that made my heart warm in my chest.

‘So, will you go on a date with me?’ he asked, seeming more confident but not much.

‘Absolutely.’ I grinned, my face leaning into his hand as it came up to caress the side of my face.

‘Awesome.’ He grinned again, and I was sure that we would both be wearing these giddy expressions for the foreseeable future, ‘pizza after?’

‘Perfect.’ I laced my fingers through his and almost jumped a mile when coach blew his whistle. I’d been so lost in him, his touch, his warmth, and his smell that I’d completely forgotten where we were.

‘I should get out there before Coach kills me.’ He chuckled.

‘Okay.’ I replied, reluctantly releasing his hands.

He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to my forehead that I made my heart melt. Before he could leave me completely, I grabbed his jersey and with a teasing grin told him, ‘by the way, this jacket is mine now.’

He blinked, and when he’d processed my words a bright, fond grin broke out across his face. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered against my skin, ‘you won’t find me objecting to that, sweetheart.’ He winked, waved, and left to join the huddle in the centre of the field.

My cheek didn’t stop burning for the rest of the game.

#stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stillinski imagine #teen wolf

433 notes · View notes

unsupervisedpanda · 3 years

Text

Not according to plan

Liam Dunbar x Reader

This is a one shot where you are Scott's little sister and the pack saves you, and you bond with Liam. I know stupid but hey.

"Y/n hurry up!" Scott hollered up the stairs to his sister, you.

"I'm coming! Coming coming!" You hollered back quickly pulling your sneakers on.

Scott stated that you were coming with him to a pack meeting. Apparently you could be in danger if he left you alone. You sprinted down the stairs slipping down three before catching yourself.

"I'm ready let's go!" You hollered grabbing your backpack and sprinting out the door.

Scott quickly followed you and you both hopped into Stiles' Jeep.

Driving to Derek's didn't take as long as you thought, but his home was pretty isolated and creepy.

"Scott you have some weird friends..." You said taking in the whole houses' appearance. Scott just shrugged and walked up to the porch knocking on the door.

"Derek, it's Scott!" He hollared. A tall man came to the door glaring, and if looks could kill you would so be dead.

"Oo someone is cranky." You teased.

He growled at you. Literally growled. Before you could say or do anything Scott interjected.

"Derek, this is my little sister y/n. Y/n this is Derek." Derek had a look of understanding and then he smirked.

"So you're the little runt Scott and Stiles were talking about! The one that couldn't protect herself!" He looked smug as your face turned red.

Oh yeah you were really pissed, even so you smiled.

"And you sir must be the sour wolf I'm told about who doesn't know when to pull his head out of his ass!" You grinned smugly.

Derek looked pissed but just glared.

"Anyway let's get inside. The pack meeting needs to be started. Immediately." Scott growled a little annoyed.

"Right." Derek grunted turning and walking inside your brother, Stiles, and you following close behind.

"They're here." Derek stated leaning against one of the walls.

"Y/n! It's so nice to see you again!" Lydia shrieked.

You smiled.

"Hey Lyds. Where's Ali?" You inquired tilting your head. It took all she had not to squeal.

"She couldn't make it today but I promise I'll let her know you said hi." You were about to respond when Derek interrupted.

"Listen girls this isn't a reunion. This is serious. So stop jabbing, sit down, and listen." You growled at him your eyes changing from sweet and innocent to ready to kill.

"Look mutt I suggest you don't tell me what to do." You smiled once again and sat down.

The mood change surprised everyone in the room, including your brother, except for one. Liam. He'd seen that side of you before. When a girl was being bullied, you stood up for her. The guys had run away with piss streaming down their legs. He would've laughed had he not known why. He was terrified himself and he was pretty far away.

"Alright! Calm down guys we need to figure out this whole thing. There is something targeting out friends and families and we need to stop them." Scott interrupted Liam's thoughts.

"Right, but do you have any idea what you are looking for or are you just fishing for ideas?" You inquired.

Everyone looked to you and then down slightly shameful.

"Great! You morons were planning on just going in blind and hoping for the best! That wouldn't work and it's reckless and stupid." You exclaimed.

Honestly if they do this all the time how the hell are they still alive and not trying to kill each other?

"Look runt you are only here for your safety so shut your yipping trap." Derek growled obviously pissed you were giving an opinion.

"Okay hot shot what's your big plan then?" you crossed your arms glaring.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it.

"Exactly. None of you have a plan. How do you plan to protect your friends and family like that?" You sighed.

They had no answers.

"Okay guys don't pout about it. Work on it. Let's get to work!" You smiled softly, giving everyone a little nudge in the right direction, and a light of hope.

~Le time skip to an hour later~

"Everyone got that?" Scott asked as he looked at everyone in the room.

Soon everyone agreed and knew what to do.

"Great let's hope this works. Y/n let's go." Scott grabbed your backpack handing it to you.

"K Scotty~" you sang skipping out to the Jeep.

"She's cute." Derek grunted to Scott.

"And smart." Lydia added walking out the door.

"Yeah. I'm sure she'd be a great asset to the pack Scott. Keep her safe and close." Derek stated.

Scott nodded and went outside to meet with you and Stiles.

"Let's go home guys." Scott smiled.

Once you arrived at the house it was around 9:00 so you went up to your room and watched some YouTube. Just random videos and somehow you had ended up on a how to talk to giraffes video. You laughed uncontrollably for a while until you heard something at your window making you stop. You looked at your alarm clock. 11:23pm. Where did the time go?

You walked towards the window and looked out your phone gripped tightly in your hand. A snarling something jumped at you from outside scaring you terribly. You fell backwards and your heart raced. Your breathing became labored and you quickly crawled into the hallway.

"Scott! Scott the thing is here and wants to eat me!" Your voice quaked as you slipped into your brothers room.

You looked around but didn't see him. You quickly grabbed the baseball bat in the corner and hid in his closet calling your idiot brother. Bzzz! Bzzz!

"Hello? Y/n?"

"Scotty I swear to God if you don't get your ass here now-" You were cut off by glass shattering in your room.

"Y/n oh my god are you okay? Y/n!?" Scott asked his voice full of brotherly worry.

"Does it sound like I'm okay!? Please hurry!" You trembled.

Scott was about to answer when snarls filled the house. You hung up on your brother and held your mouth trying not to cry. Everyone had agreed to stay in pairs but here you were. All alone.

"Guys! We've got to go! This thing is after y/n! This was a decoy!" Scott yelled.

Everyone looked at him and finished their fights with the decoys, then sprinted to their cars and sped to the McCall's house.

~~~Back to you~~~

The snarling thing soon came to Scott's room sniffing you out. You were terrified. You gripped the wooden bat tighter ready to swing. Soon the closet door which you locked from the inside began to shudder. This thing was trying to get in!

"Oh my god." Your voice broke.

The shuddering immediately stopped. You were tempted to step out, but you'd seen the movies and that never ended well.

"Scott, please hurry." You whispered.

Just as your heart was beginning to calm down the closet door flew off the hinges and that 'thing' stared down at you. Your throat closed, leaving you gasping for air. The creature had spikes surrounding it's body, beady red eyes, rows and rows of teeth, clawed hands, a large hunched over body with a small, boney, skeletal skull. You quickly grabbed the bat and swung. It's head went flying off into a corner of the room. You expected the creature to fall dead, instead it walked over to it's head and picked it up, and placed it back onto it's body, a cracking sound filling the room.

You screamed loudly and ran out of Scott's room, bat still in hand. You rushed down the stairs slipping down them. All of them. Your breath was taken out of your lungs, but you quickly stood up and ran outside. No, you were not going to die like this.

You turned around and looked into the house. The creature was on the roof, beady eyes never blinking at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you quickly turned and sprinted into the woods. As if your luck wasn't bad enough the creature chased after you. That being said you were thankful Scott and Stiles insisted on teaching you how to run and dodge during a chase.

"H-holy hell!" You screamed.

This thing had to be 7 or 8 feet tall. You looked for an escape but saw none except for trees and a highway up ahead. A highway. You ran faster and hoped your judgement was right. As you sped onto the road you saw headlights. The car stopped immediately, but it wasn't any car it was a Jeep.

"Y/n!? What the hell are you doing!?" Stiles exclaimed.

"Running!" You yelled back as you quickly jumped into the back seat.

"Drive. Turn this thing around and DRIVE!" You screamed as the thing came out of the woods after you.

"Holy crap!" Stiles yelled hitting the gas. Scott was sitting in front quickly turned around to face you.

"Y/n, are you okay? How the hell did you out run that!?" He exclaimed as Stiles sped away from what ever that 'thing' was.

"I just ran! It came into the house and tried eating me! I hid in your closet with your bat, and-"

Stiles cut you off.

"Seriously do any of you play baseball!?" You and Scott glared at him.

"No." You both answered with deadpan expressions.

"Anyway! The thing IS STILL FOLLOWING US!" You shrieked as you looked behind you and on to the road.

Stiles took a sharp turn and headed towards the high school.

"Y/n! Does this thing have any weaknesses you could find!?" Scott inquired.

You looked at him your e/c eyes wide in shock.

"None. I knocked it's head off and it just walked over and put it back on." You stated still watching the 7 to 8 foot tall beast follow.

Once you were at the high school you ran to the lacrosse field, Scott and Stiles close behind.

"What the hell! Y/n are you okay?" Lydia quickly checked on you and soon gasped.

"Oh my god." She whispered.

Everyone was looking and you began to panic.

"What? What is it?" You stammered.

"Y/n did the thing touch you at all?" Derek questioned glaring at your back and side.

"No. Not at all I wouldn't let it get close enough." You answered.

"Then why do you have scratches and bruises?" He asked again as if you were guilty of something.

"I-i fell down the stairs. All of them. And also ran through the woods...?" You answered hoping it would satisfy him and his prying eyes.

" Right." You soon realized why everyone was gasping.

In the little time you had fallen your whole back and your ribs were blue and purple and red.

"Ouch!" You yelped when Lydia pressed on your spine.

"Look we don't have time for this the thing is-" you were cut off by a screetching. Everyone turned and saw the spiked beast.

"Still out there." You finished your voice soft.

"Liam! Get y/n out of here! Now." Scott ordered as they all went in for the attack.

Liam grabbed your hand dragging you to the locker room.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" He whispered checking you over himself.

"I- I am fine. Promise." You smiled.

In all honesty your back hurt like a bitch and you were worried about your brother. You were also terrified the thing would kill everyone you cared about and then would eat you making you suffer.

"You know I can tell when you are lying." Liam smirked at you softly.

You looked at him and rushed into his arms wrapping your arms around his neck sobbing into his shoulder. He was right you were lying, but after what you had been through who wouldn't be terrified?

Soon Stiles came in for both of you but found you both asleep on the floor in Liam's lap. He reported it to Scott, but they both knew you guys had a home to be too. Scott picked you up and took you to the Jeep, and Stiles woke Liam. Everyone was just ready to go home.

A/n

Soooo whatcha think? Good? bad? Anyway I hope you enjoyed this story! Have a magnificent time you unsupervised critters! 🐾💞

#liam x reader #liam dunbar #liam dunbar x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #liam dunbar imagine #teen wolf x reader

157 notes · View notes

bi-bard · 3 years

Text

Last Wish - Kelly Kline Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Last Wish

Pairing: Kelly Kline X Reader (platonic)

Requested: @hillie34

Word Count: 1,253 words

Warning(s): mentions of death

Summary: (Season 12) (Y/n) followed Cas and Kelly to their cabin on the lake. With their power, (Y/n) knew they could really help to protect the mom-to-be. However, there's one other gift (Y/n) can give to her.

Author's Note: HEY! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account and it's a whole script)

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

"Kelly," I said, walking into what was going to be Jack's nursery.

She was resting in the rocking chair I had built and put in the corner. I figured that Cas would get to use it when Jack was born.

I followed Cas and Kelly when she stole the impala. I was an old friend of the Winchester but I didn't stay in the bunker for personal reasons.

The three of us ended up at a cabin on the lake. It was lovely and calming. Cas and I had since committed to protecting Kelly. Her wish was to have this child and Cas thought it was a good idea, so I trusted him.

"I made you some tea," I offered her the mug. "I snagged some when Cas was buying that truckload of diapers."

"Thanks," she grinned, taking the mug from my hand.

"The nursery is gorgeous," I said, looking around at all the artwork on the wall.

I pulled up an extra chair that I left in there the other day and sat down next to Kelly.

"Yeah," Kelly looked down, clearly sad. "I'm sure you and Jack will be spending a lot of time in here."

I stammered. I still didn't know how to talk about Kelly's death. She was so kind that the idea made my stomach churn. I guess that happens when anyone thinks about death.

"I can't thank you and Castiel enough," she grinned. I grinned back. "I just... I just I wish could see him. See who he's going to be."

We fell into silence. Kelly calmly sipped her tea. I sat in thought. I was weighing my options. I wanted to give her this. It's the one thing I could actually do to help her.

"A few years ago," I started explaining, "There was an emergency. An angel was after the young versions of Sam and Dean's mom and dad. I was able to use my power to project myself into the past and protect them. It's a long shot, but I might be able to do that and send us to the future. We could try and see Jack."

Kelly looked at me in shock, "You could do that?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, forcing a chuckle. "But I could try."

"I'd like that," she nodded.

"Finish your tea then," I replied, smiling fully. "I'm gonna go grab Cas. He'll probably be able to help us if this goes wrong."

I came back a few minutes later, Cas in tow. He checked on Kelly, asking if she really wanted to try this. She nodded, saying that she wanted to know that Jack was okay.

"I'll be here to help however I can," Cas promised me. I nodded, sitting back down where I had been. He grabbed the now empty mug from Kelly.

"Are you ready," I asked her. She nodded. "Close your eyes."

I reached out, grabbing one of her hands and reaching to touch her stomach. I didn't know if there was a correct method for something like this. I was just following my instincts as best as I could. I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, we were in one of the rooms in the bunker. Curled in the bed was a young man with blonde hair. He had a laptop sitting next to him with Star Wars playing.

Kelly was standing next to me, eyes still shut.

"You can open your eyes now," I whispered. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking at her surroundings. "We're in the bunker."

"Can he hear us," she asked, pointing at the man.

I nodded, remembering when I accidentally scared the crap out of a young John Winchester because I didn't think he could hear me.

I walked over slowly, kneeling by the bed, pausing the movie, and shaking his shoulder. He slowly blinked as he woke up before smiling at me.

"Hi (Y/n)," he said with a smile.

"Hi... Jack," I replied hesitantly. He just smiled wider before going to sit up. "There's someone here to see you."

I stood up and walked back a few steps, I held a hand out to Kelly. Jack recognized her immediately.

"Mom," he said softly. He had tears in his eyes.

"Hi Jack," she smiled, also on the verge of tears.

His shoulders shook slightly and she walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed. I moved the laptop for them so they could hug and have a moment together. I plugged it into the charger and shut the lid. We gave him a desk. Nice.

Now, since Jack was in the form of an adult, I assumed he was an adult and it was about 20 years in the future. Then, I saw the year. 2018. Jack should be a year old. I decided to avoid that line of conversation.

"How are you here," Jack asked, finally pulling back from his hug with Kelly.

"(Y/n) brought me," she explained. "I wanted to see you."

She reached over and grabbed his hand.

"I watched the video you made me all the time," he mumbled. "I wondered what you'd be like."

I smiled at the two.

"(Y/n) has been protecting me and helping me with my powers," Jack added happily. "I'm gonna be a hero, like them."

"(Y/n) is a hero, huh," Kelly threw me a kind look over her shoulder.

Jack continued telling stories about all of us, especially Cas. He had really bonded with him. Eventually, he stopped talking, now looking kind of sad.

"I always think about you," he said softly. "I always want to know that I'm making you proud."

"Oh, I am," Kelly promised, touching the side of his face. "Jack, you are so kind and good. I am so proud of who you've grown to be. I love you so much, sweetheart. Never forget that,"

He nodded with a smile, eyes filled with tears again.

They hugged again. Kelly and I chuckled when Jack let out a yawn.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. Kelly shook her head.

"Lay down," she mumbled. Jack listened to her and Kelly fixed the covers over his shoulders. She leaned down and kissed his temple. "I love you, Jack."

"I love you too," he replied.

In a matter of minutes, Jack had fallen asleep again.

I walked over, touching his forehead. Now, he would think it was a very nice dream instead of seeing his mother travel in time.

"Ready to go," I asked softly.

Kelly leaned over, kissing his forehead again, mumbling that he loved him again before standing up and nodding.

I grabbed her hand. We both closed our eyes.

We woke up in the nursery again. I stood up and Cas hugged me. I hugged him back.

"Are you both okay," he asked as he stepped back. I nodded but Kelly didn't respond. "Kelly?"

She stood up and pulled me into a hug. I hugged her back and felt her shake as she cried.

"Thank you," she said through her tears. She moved back, touching my shoulder with one hand and her stomach with the other. "Thank you."

I was crying now too, "You're welcome."

I looked at her stomach, thinking about the life in there. He was going to look up to me and rely on me for help. I was going to be this kid's protector... his hero.

Dear God, please don't let me let this kid down, I thought as Kelly hugged me again. Please just let me make Kelly proud.

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

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Musical Prompts

Small Moments With…

When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who Crossover Series) Masterlist

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

#supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #kelly kline imagine #kelly kline fanfiction #kelly kline x reader #jack kline imagine #jack kline fanfiction #jack kline x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

51 notes · View notes

elliestormfound · 4 years

Text

Witcher Secret Santa

Dear @linx1457

this is your secret Santa! I wish you merry christmas and hope you enjoy your gift!

@thewitchersecretsanta

Geralt/Jaskier modern au, roommates, mutual pining, 1854 words

CW: none, just fluff and pinging with a happy end

read on ao3

--------- “I told you not to go in my room and I told you not to touch my stuff,” Geralt said, looking at his new roommate.

Geralt worked as a tour guide for the local national park. During the colder months less tourists visited and his wage hardly covered his rent. His brother Lambert had suggested he take on a roommate and posted an ad for him in the local newspaper.

But most of the people that had answered the ad had been weird or downright creepy and he had lost all hope till a musician called. Jaskier - that was his name - was new in town and wanted to gain a foothold in the big city. He needed to stay somewhere cheap for a couple of months till he could afford his own apartment.

Geralt had invited him over and even though he had not been sure if someone so outgoing would clash with his more reserved nature, he had somehow been convinced that it would work out.

But now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Who even has real steel swords?” Jaskier asked, “I thought they were cheap imitations from the ren faire…” They were standing in Geralt’s room where his two heavy swords had crashed down from where they were supposed to hang on the wall.

“They are from an actual blacksmith,” Geralt said through gritted teeth, and more quietly, “from the ren faire.”

Jaskier laughed, “so I was right!”

“That is not the point!” Geralt growled and bent down to pick them up.

---------

It had been the 18th ad he had called for a room and when the man with the gravelly voice answered, Jaskier had been instantly smitten. And when the man with the deep voice turned out to be illegally handsome and accepted him as a roommate the musician was in heaven.

And at the same time he knew that it was a bad idea to pine after someone you lived with. He had experience with that. Bad experience.

So he tried his best to keep his yearning under control. But on some days it was particularly hard. Like today with the swords.

Jaskier knew he shouldn’t go into Geralt’s room, but he had lost the charger of his phone. So he snuck in when Geralt was at work. His eyes had been caught by the reflection on the blades of the swords on Geralt’s wall.

When he had first saw them after he moved in he had been a bit concerned - who the fuck had swords??? But Geralt had told him that he used to work as a stunt choreographer for sword fighting.

Jaskier had walked over and brushed along the blade with his index finger. And the fucking swords had fallen to the ground with a loud crash. In the exact moment Geralt had returned from work.

After Geralt chided him, Jaskier grabbed one of the swords to occupy his shaking hands and the adonis that was his roommate had the audacity to stand very close behind him and take his hand in the most tender way and fucking breathe on his neck.

He knew that he couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing the bastard and pushing him on the bed if he had stayed a moment longer, so he made some shady excuse and practically ran into his room to play some music to calm down.

----------

Over the last few weeks Geralt got used to living with Jaskier. He would never admit it out loud but it was actually very nice that someone was there when he came home from work. He especially loved the days when Jaskier cooked. Opening the door to their apartment and being greeted by the delicious smell of lasagna was something he could get used to.

“I’m home,” he called down the hallway and suppressed a smile when Jaskier answered, “then get in the kitchen, darling, dinner is almost ready.”

After he had put away his jacket and boots he walked over and stopped in the doorframe to take in the kitchen. Jaskier was a great cook - his food always tasted fucking amazing. But the utter chaos he left in his wake was honestly impressive. Dirty pots and pans were stacked in the sink, little red spots of (hopefully) tomato sauce decorated the tiles behind the stove and at least five different packages of spices stood open on the counter.

Geralt sighed quietly but knew that the lasagna would be worth the clean up later.

---------

Jaskier’s mother had told him that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. So he occasionally cooked for Geralt.

Of course he didn’t cook FOR Geralt. He cooked for himself and made too much so Geralt could eat with him. At least that is what he told his roommate. Today it was lasagna.

He smiled when he heard the key turn in the lock and Geralt calling out that he was home. He yelled, “then get in the kitchen, darling.” It had been funny to watch Geralt’s reactions to his frequent use of pet names. Jaskier had reassured him that he did that with every one of his friends, but to be honest, at least to himself - darling was reserved only for Geralt.

“How was your day?” he asked, as his roommate stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Jaskier had just put the parmesan on the lasagna and made sure to angle his ass in the perfect line of sight for Geralt as he bent forward to put the lasagna in the oven.

He smirked as he stood back up and turned around to find Geralt blushing. He cleared his throat before he said, “good, not many tourists in the park today. I gave a tour to a family and cleaned some garbage that campers had left behind.”

Jaskier smiled and said, “and then you come home to this?” He turned around and looked at the mess he had created.

“At least I get dinner here,” Geralt replied and walked over to the cupboard to get out plates. He set the table and sat down to watch Jaskier pour two glasses of red wine.

Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed from the cooking and his brown hair was tousled. On the apron he was wearing ‘KISS THE COOK’ stood in bold letters. Geralt had to shake his head because his roommate looked very kissable right now.

---------

“Fuck,” Geralt said as he hit the TV. There was only a static noise and a corresponding image that was not unlike the view of the snowstorm outside. No matter to which channel he switched, the results were the same.

“What are you ranting about, darling?” Jaskier asked as he walked into their living room. He was wearing one of Geralt’s hoodies and his own ridiculous pyjama bottoms. At least he had told Geralt they were pyjama bottoms, but they actually were illegally tight fitting booty shorts that had “flower twink” written on the ass.

“There will be no movie night today,” Geralt said, hitting the offending electrical device for one more time, “the fucking snowstorm has cut off the tv.”

Jaskier moaned sadly and pouted expertly. It was not only pursed lips. It was a full body pout with furrowed brows, round puppy eyes first looking down and then slowly up through his lashes, shoulders hunched forward, arms hanging limply down by his sides and one foot drawing circles with his toes in the soft carpet.

Geralt believed that his roommate secretly practised this and he had to admit in the privacy of his own mind that it worked every damn time on him. But sadly this time he couldn’t do anything about it.

But then Jaskier’s face lit up with a smile and he said, “Geralt, I have an idea -” Geralt groaned quietly because Jaskier’s ‘ideas’ rarely ended well, but his roommate ignored his nonverbal protests, “- do you remember when I went to the flea market the other day? I bought an old VHS recorder and a video cassette.”

“Why the fuck did you buy that?” Geralt asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Be thankful, Geralt, it will save movie night!” Jaskier called as he turned on his heel in search of the old recorder.

-----

It did not save movie night. The video recorder did in fact work, which wasn’t short of a miracle for that old thing, but the video cassette Jaskier had bought with it was not a movie.

“How could I have known that ‘fireplace romance’ is not a movie?” Jaskier said, eyeing the case.

“You could have read the description,” Geralt grumbled as he looked at the tv screen that showed a fireplace with a delightfully burning fire and nothing more. For four hours.

Jaskier sat down on the couch that was facing the tv and patted the space next to him.

“Come on, it’s better than nothing!”

Before putting the tape in the recorder they had set up everything for movie night: popcorn, hot chocolates with the tiny marshmallows swimming in them and a bowl of gummy bears.

-----------

They had sat like this for a while, talking about work and Jaskier’s next gig in a coffee shop around the corner. Somehow, without Geralt noticing him moving, Jaskier had come closer to him and was now pressed to his side. It felt good.

Jaskier took a sip of his hot chocolate and turned to his roommate.

“Geralt, what do you think about…” but he stopped as he saw Geralt smirking and looking at his lips.

“What?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

Geralt cocked his head and said quietly in his deep voice, “you have something on your lip.”

Jaskier frowned and asked, “where?”

Geralt gestured for his own lip and Jaskier tried to imitate him, but he missed the spot of chocolate.

“Can you help me?” he asked, leaning a bit closer to him.

Geralt’s mouth was suddenly dry and he swallowed. Jaskier’s face was so close to his now that he could see all the tiny freckles that had faded during winter, but were still visible up close. He blinked and finally reached over.

Gently he placed his palm on Jaskier’s hot cheek and felt him leaning slightly into the touch. Slowly he stroked his thumb over Jaskier’s lower lip to remove the chocolate that clung to it.

He could feel Jaskier breathing in deeper right before he opened his mouth just a bit and Geralt could feel his warm breath on his thumb.

A heartbeat later Geralt threw all restraint and explanations why he shouldn’t do it overboard, and said in a hoarse whisper, “I really...i really want to kiss you right now.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened before a soft smile played over his lips.

Jaskier leaned forward to close the gap between them and kissed him. In that moment Geralt couldn’t remember why he had been convinced that kissing Jaskier was a bad idea because it was the best thing he had ever felt.

The kiss started slow and soft, almost chaste but when Geralt wanted to lean back he felt Jaskier’s hand in his hair, pulling him back into the kiss.

#thewitchersecretsanta #the witcher secret santa #linx1457 #witcher fanfic #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #modern au #EllieStormfound

245 notes · View notes

the-bau-quinjet · 4 years

Text

Looks up, grinning like a devil

Chapter 10 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Where did our reader end up?

Warnings: criminal minds level violence, mention of past teacher/student relationship

word count: ~1800

When you open your eyes, you are struck by how dark it is. After you moved to DC, it took a while for you to grow accustomed to not having complete darkness. Even in your apartment at night, light still filters in through the curtains.

At first, you assume the power went out or something, but then you notice something else: the fact that you’re not in your bed. In fact you’re not in any bed. You’re in what feels like a weirdly shaped box.

That’s when it all comes back to you. You had just hung up the phone after talking to Spencer when someone grabbed you from behind. You tried to fight, but they stuck a needle in your arm.

The memory causes a jolt of pain in your arm, waking you up. Based on what you can feel and hear, you determine you are in the trunk of a car. You’ve got no way of knowing how long you were out for, or how far you’ve travelled since then. You can feel the panic setting in, but you don’t have much time to think about it before the car is coming to a stop.

At first you assume it’s a red light or a stop sign, but then the engine cuts out. Without being able to see, every noise you hear seems amplified. Somebody slams the door, walking around to the trunk.

Before you can come up with a plan, the trunk is thrown open. The light feels blinding as a hand reaches for your arm, dragging you out of the trunk.

“Move. Let’s go.” The voice is younger than you would’ve thought, and surprisingly enough sounds like a woman. You’ve been around Spencer and the team enough to know most offenders are male.

You stumble as your feet hit the pavement, eyes slowly adjusting to the lights. You blink a few times, trying to take in your surroundings. You’re in a parking lot, but you don’t recognize the surrounding area.

The woman drags you along with her. “Don’t even think about running. I’ll drug you again if you don’t cooperate.” You simply nod in response, trying to take in as much information as possible about where you are.

The area looks empty, but not abandoned. It is clear people still you the building, it just must be closed. Once you’re inside, you realize you’re in a high school, which makes sense since the woman seems so young.

She pulls you through the halls until you’re in what looks like a history classroom. There is a few globes on a shelf in the back, books littered across the teacher’s desk, and a few assignments written on the white board in the front.

The woman pushes you into a chair, immediately tying your hands and feet. “Now, we’re going to play a game.” She says slowly, as if you might not understand. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and if I don’t like your answers… well, it’ll hurt.” She pulls various knives out of the duffle she was carrying, tossing them on the ground in front of you.

Spencer’s head is reeling. The second note has so much information in it, and yet he can’t figure out what any of it could mean.

“Reid, what songs did he use this time?” Rossi poses the question, writing the titles on the evidence board.

“Hey Stephen, Back to December, Fifteen, Sad Beautiful Tragic, This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things, exile, Bad Blood, mirrorball, Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince, mad woman, Call it What You Want, The Man, Don’t Blame Me, and White Horse.” He listed the songs without having to think about it.

“Our unsub could definitely be a woman. I mean, mad woman, the Man? Those are some pretty obvious clues.” Emily threw the idea out as soon as Reid was done listing titles.

“Definitely. And she’s young if the note is accurate, fifteen three summers ago would make her 18 now.” JJ added, looking through potential case files.

“What strikes me is the love affair that we took away.” Derek added. “Could we have put away someone she thought she was in love with?”

“Of the three child predator cases we had, there was only one that dealt with teenagers.” Reid stated, scanning the files laid out in front of him. “Garcia, what happened to Matthew Bradson after he took the deal to do jail time?”

The only sound in the room was Garcia’s typing as everyone awaited an answer. “He was sentenced to three life sentences, one for Sadie Pullman, one for Kayla Fibbs, and one for Carly Spires. He stayed in DC Department of Corrections, but was killed two weeks ago in a prison riot.” “So our unsub was separated from who she perceived to be her love, and the stressor for taking Y/N was his death.” Hotch stated, earning nods from the rest of the team.

“Sadia Pullman and Kayla Fibbs were killed before we were called in on the case. We saved Carly Spires though.” JJ read from the case file.

“The notes said she would be right where we left her, lost in the lights where they whispered she’s a bad, bad girl.” Rossi read from the notes pinned to the evidence board. “Where did we find her?”

“The high school. We found Bradson and Carly in his classroom. He was collecting items from his desk, and she had a bag with her, as if they were going to run away together.” Spencer recalled from the day in question.

“That makes sense. The bright lights from the football field, plus rumors about her must have spread like wildfire after the arrest was made.” JJ added.

“And the man clue, men are praised for their sexual encounters while women are often shamed.” Emily suggested.

“Garcia, send the address.” Hotch stated as he moved to put on his bulletproof vest, the rest of the team following suit.

“Already done, sir. Get her back.” Garcia’s voice was firmer than ever before as the team ran from the room to the elevators, headed for their SUVs.

“Would you say having a relationship with an older guy is wrong?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she stared you down. You haven’t gotten an answer wrong yet.

“No, I- I don’t think so.” You were frantically trying to figure a way out of this, trying to profile like Spencer had shown you so you could answer the questions correctly.

“Good answer. How old is too old though?” Her voice dropped with venom, willing you to get it wrong.

“Um, I think… it depends… um” You stuttered trying to come up with a number that she would be okay with.

“Depends on what?” Her words were growing harsher.

“Well, um, maturity level I guess. As long as the two people are equals, the age gap probably doesn’t matter. It’s just if there is an imbalance in power, ya know? Then it might not be the best thing to do just because you don’t want to take advantage of anyone or anything like that…” Your eyes kept growing wider as you realized the hole you were digging for yourself.

“You see, I don’t think I like that answer.” Each word was enunciated with purpose as she walked closer, dragging the knife along your arm. Before you could reply, she quickly sliced across your right shoulder.

You couldn’t stop the slight whine that escaped your lips.

“What? Did that hurt? Poor. You.” She sliced across your shoulder again before asking another question. “Here’s another one. Would you be mad at the people who ruined your relationship?”

“I don’t know, probably.” You were trying to hold back the tears as the woman started pacing.

“Not good enough.” She punctuated the sentence with another cut. “Why are you here?”

“B-B-because you brought me here.” Your words were quiet. You knew it was the wrong thing to say, but you couldn’t think of any other reason.

“Wrong again.” Another cut. “You’re here because the people you call friends ruined my life. I’m just trying to repay the favor.”

The team’s two SUVs pulled into the high school parking lot, recognizing the lone car from the video Garcia found. “She’s here. Rossi, Prentiss take the left. Reid, Morgan the right. JJ and I will go straight. Clear the area and move toward the history classroom. If we’re right, that’s where they’ll be.” Hotch called out the orders as the team entered the school, immediately splitting up to search each hallway.

Their footsteps echo through the halls of the empty school, clearing each classroom they pass. Minutes later, the team converges on Bradson’s old history classroom. Two voices can be heard inside.

“Answer the question.” Carly Spires sounds enraged, screaming without regard for who could here. “Answer it now!”

“I don’t know! I don’t know who you are or what happened or why you’re so mad at them.” Your voice is quiet in comparison, almost raw from crying. “I don’t know.” The sound of you in pain nearly brings Spencer to tears.

“Wrong again.” She cuts into you again, drawing a scream that you try your best to stifle.

“FBI, drop your weapon.” Hotch moves into the room, followed by Spencer, Derek, Emily, JJ, and Rossi.

“The whole gang’s here. Perfect.” Carly shifts the knife, pointing it into your back, suddenly calm after showing so much rage. “We’ve been playing this little game for hours. What took you so long? I thought my clues were so obvious.”

Spencer made eye contact with you while he moved farther into the room. You did your best to reassure him you were fine, but your smile felt more like a grimace.

“Put the knife down. Now. There’s no way out of this for you.” Hotch tries talking her down, but she just laughs in response.

“No way out huh? That’s what you said to Matthew to get him to abandon me. I had no one left. The only person who ever truly cared about me left, because of you.”

“Carly, Matthew didn’t care about you. He would’ve killed you if we hadn’t of caught him.” Hotch continued.

“Liar! He loved me. And when he left everyone turned on me. I was alone. You took him from me, so I’m taking something from you.” She drove the knife into your back quickly, surprising everyone in the room.

She put her hands up after that, allowing Derek to take her into custody. “Surprise. Not enough time to profile me, bet you didn’t see that coming.” She laughed maniacally, a sickening grin on her face as Derek pulled her from the room.

Spencer stood frozen, watching the life drain out of your eyes as Emily and JJ untied you. Hotch called for a medic, moving Spencer out of the way.

Even when you were on the stretcher, being wheeled out of the room, Spencer couldn’t move. He just stood there, watching you leave.

tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets1967 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97 @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat

#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

125 notes · View notes

cali-holland · 4 years

Text

Forever and Ever, Ch. 6: Surprises, Sweets, and Sapphires

Tom Holland X Osterfield!Reader, Wedding Series

When Tom comes back from filming, the next stages of wedding planning continue: cake tasting, Tom’s suit fitting, and a special lunch with Nikki

Warnings: some sexual themes/references

Word Count: 3600

Series Masterlist

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

“Lucky I'm in love with my best friend

Lucky to have been where I have been

Lucky to be coming home again

Lucky we're in love in every way

Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed

Lucky to be coming home someday”

Lucky, Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat

A/N: Special thank you to @duskholland for proofreading this and for listening to me talk about this chapter for the past like three months whoops

~~~

You threw the front door open, gasping for air as you came to a sudden halt. Proudly, you announced, “I won!”

Less than a second later, Harrison came sprinting up behind you. “You cheated.”

“Nope.” You shook your head, making your way to the kitchen for some water.

“You shoved me into a hedge. You cheated.” He repeated, proceeding to take off the scattered leaves that had clung to his running clothes.

You rolled your eyes at him and took a large drink from your water bottle. Your morning run with Harrison would be nothing without a little competition, a.k.a. racing each other for the last couple hundred meters and shoving each other out of the way to win. You still had a bruise on your knee from when he tripped you last week.

“Y/N had a solid five-second lead,” Harry stated from where he sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone and enjoying a cup of tea.

Taking notice of Harry in the room, you casually made your way into the living room. You wandered to the far side of the room, checking behind the couch, doing your best to act casually about what you were looking for… or rather who you were looking for.

“Missing something?” Harry asked, eyeing you with a teasing smirk on his face.

“He’s not here.” Harrison laughed from the kitchen, “You know Tom flies in tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I know how you all get the day before Tom’s scheduled to arrive.” You said, narrowing your eyes at Harry to see if he showed any sign that his brother may in fact be here already.

Tom has surprised you by coming back early four times over the course of your relationship. And every time, it was a scheme crafted and executed by himself, Harry, and Harrison— sometimes Sam, Tuwaine, Nikki, and Dom even pitched in.

The first time it happened was definitely the most notable.

It was just another Friday night for you, and you were spending it by watching Say Anything with Harrison (it was your turn to choose a movie). You weren’t really focused on the movie- you’d seen it a thousand times; you were distracted thinking of Tom. It had been over four weeks since you’d seen him in person, and, since you’ve only been dating a few short months, it felt like an eternity. You weren’t sure how you could ever grow accustomed to it, but you knew it would be worth it once you were in his arms again. Your heart soared just thinking about holding the love of your life again tomorrow. You were so in your own head that you didn’t hear the front door quietly open and close.

“Haz?” You turned to your brother, your back turned from the entryway.

“Yeah?” He asked. You looked down at your hands nervously, oblivious to how Harrison was watching Tom tiptoe behind the couch, staying out of your eye line, while Harry got out his phone, filming it. Harry gave Tom the go ahead, and just as he was about to surprise you, you spoke up again.

“I love Tom.” You blurted out, feeling your heart race in anticipation as you finally said what you’ve been holding back for weeks. All eyes fell on you, though you were only aware of Harrison’s. Tom was frozen in his half-crouch, trying to comprehend what he just heard. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Is it too soon to tell him tomo-”

You were cut off by a loud clanging behind you. Your eyes immediately landed on Tom, who was quite literally on the other side of the couch from you; you didn’t even process that it was Harry dropping his phone that caught your attention in the first place.

“Tom, I-” You started, but he cut you off, leaning over the couch to kiss you as if Harrison and Harry weren’t even there.

He pulled back, a smile on his face, “I love you, too.”

And then, the second time, Tom surprised you at the pub and you choked on a beer in shock. The time after that, Nikki coincidentally had an extra place setting at the Holland family dinner that you and Harrison were invited to. The last time, you were getting in your car to go on a grocery run with Harry when Tom jumped up from the back seat.

It was safe to say you were still on edge, knowing it could happen at any moment… if it did happen, that is. You just had a feeling that something was up, even though Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine seemed to act like it was a normal day. In fact, none of them even left the house, unless you counted your morning run with Harrison.

As you got ready for bed later that night, you frowned a little at the empty sheets before you. All day, you’d hoped Tom would be home early; at least, you just had to sleep one more time alone before he was back. You slipped on one of Tom’s sweatshirts as your sleepshirt for the night and crawled into the cold bed. You checked the door one last time, just to make sure, before turning off your bedside lamp and putting your phone on the nightstand. Snuggling down in bed with your back to the door, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep.

After a few minutes of lying motionless in the dark, you gave up on trying to sleep for now. Grabbing your phone, you blinked sleepily as you turned down the brightness and unlocked it. You went straight for your photos app, knowing exactly which video you wanted to watch. You scrolled back three years to find the video of Tom surprising you for the first time, the very first time you both said: “I love you”. You quietly said the words aloud to yourself, hoping that maybe he could hear it, wherever he was in the world.

“I love you, too.” You heard a whisper from the doorway. Your light flicked on, and you hurried out of your bed and into Tom’s arms. He held you tightly, not wanting to let go of you ever again.

“I missed you so much.” Tom murmured.

You pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes again, your hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I missed you, too.” You leaned in and kissed him, pouring every bit of relief to have him back into the kiss. You broke the kiss, just to mumble against his lips, “So much,” before kissing him again.

After a moment of being completely enraptured in each other’s embrace again, he stepped back, a sheepish look on his face, “Can we continue this in a moment? I really have to piss.”

“Ever the romantic.” You teased. As you climbed into bed again, Tom laughed and fully brought his luggage into the room, since he had dropped it to embrace you in the doorway. He left it all in the corner (and you made a note that tomorrow would be laundry day) before he disappeared to the bathroom. He came back a couple of moments later and went to grab out some pajama pants to change into.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him with a small smirk, but his back was turned to you so he didn’t catch the look on your face.

“Getting pajamas, love.” He laughed. You let out a small sigh before taking off his sweatshirt that was wrapped around you.

“Your fiance is waiting.” You stated, throwing the sweatshirt at him as he turned around to face you.

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?”

~~~

“We need a pool.” You could hear Harry say from the kitchen as you and Tom made your way downstairs the next morning.

“No, indoor gym- that’s the way to go.” Harrison insisted.

“What are you two on about?” Tom asked, his hand leaving yours to pour two cups of tea, one for you and one for him, while you popped some bread in the toaster for the two of you.

“Renovations for the house.” Your brother said, “I think we could use an indoor gym a lot more than a pool.”

“You know, actually, we need soundproof walls.” Harry joked, making Tom’s face turn red.

“I’m the one right next to them.” Harrison let out a groan, throwing his head back dramatically.

“You should both know by now to stay clear of the house when I come home.” Tom shrugged, and you nodded in agreement.

“Tuwaine learned after the first time.” You stated, taking a sip of your tea.

“Fucking animals.” Harrison muttered, shaking his head, before finishing off his tea. He cleared his breakfast spot and left the room without another word.

“So, when do you two get to do the wedding cake testing and can I come?” Harry asked cheekily.

“No.” You and Tom said simultaneously. With a grumble about you two being ‘no fun’, he left you both alone in the kitchen.

Sitting down to eat your very fancy breakfast of toast with nutella, Tom looked a little lost in thought. You waited a moment for him to speak up, but when he just munched on his toast quietly, you asked, “Is everything alright?”

“When do we get to do the cake tasting?” Tom asked, completely serious in his question.

“We can call some bakeries today and see what’s open this week?” You offered, and he nodded in agreement, taking a bite of his breakfast. Leaning in next to Tom, you pulled your phone out and began to look through Pinterest under the wedding cakes tag.

“I like that one.” He pointed out a beautiful three-tiered cake with delicate roses angled around the cake.

“The roses are a nice touch.” You hummed in agreement, adding the picture to a saved album. You paused your scrolling on another cake, a simpler two-tier with leaves intricately placed on the sides, “How about this one?”

“I like the roses more, but add it to the album for ideas.” He admitted, and you did just that.

“It just looks smoother. Maybe we can do both? Roses and a smooth finish.” You suggested, and Tom nodded.

“Sounds perfect.”

By some stroke of luck (or Tom name dropping himself while pretending to be his assistant), you two managed to get a cake tasting appointment in just a few days, which lined up perfectly to be just hours before Tom’s suit fitting. With a few decorative cake ideas already in mind, you both felt decently prepared about this next step in wedding planning.

“Are you absolutely positive you don’t need me to come?” Harrison asked. He was practically itching to put on his shoes and leave with you and Tom right now. “I’m the best man. I should be there.”

“I’m the photographer. Who will capture this moment if I’m not there?” Harry questioned, and Tom furrowed his eyebrows at his younger brother.

“Mum’s coming.” Tom stated as if it was obvious.

“You invited mum and not me?” A sense of betrayal shone in Harry’s eyes.

“You’ll just have to wait for the wedding if you want cake.” He laughed, opening the front door.

As you and Tom stepped outside hand in hand, you heard Tuwaine shout behind you both, “Bring the leftovers to your fitting!”

“We’ll never hear the end of this.” Tom muttered when you two were in the safety of his car.

“They’ll live.” You joked. Holding onto his hand loosely as he pulled the car away from the house. “Do I get to see what your suit looks like?”

“Not unless I get to see your dress early.” He laughed. As he stopped at a light, he brought your hand up to his lips to kiss you delicately.

“That’s bad luck.”

“And who says it’s not bad luck the other way around?” He raised his eyebrows at you, laughing softly. “You’re going to look like a princess in that dress, and you're going to make me cry at the altar, darling.”

“Happy tears, hopefully.” You teased lightly, even though you both knew he was being absolutely serious.

Tom just sent a smile your way, continuing the drive, before adding, “I really am the luckiest man to be marrying you.”

“You’re such a sap.” You said lovingly, making him laugh. “But I really am the luckiest girl. I can’t wait for our forever to start.”

“Forever and ever.”

When you two arrived, Nikki was already there. The three of you went through the process of ordering which cakes you’d like to try and speaking with the head baker about styles and designs. As you all sipped on champagne and waited for the baker to return with the cakes, Nikki spoke up.

“I never thought my Tom would grow up to have pink roses on his wedding cake.”

“What’s that mean?” Tom asked through a laugh, trying to hide how his ears tinted pink.

“I remember you going on and on about how you wanted a red and blue wedding cake.” She knew exactly what she was doing, and you could tell by Tom’s face that he had hoped she’d forgotten that childhood detail.

“I was seven. Of course I wanted a Spider-Man cake.” Tom insisted, his hand finding yours underneath the table. Whether he was doing it out of nerves or embarrassment, you weren’t entirely sure, but you intertwined your fingers with his and squeezed his hand reassuringly. It took you a moment to realize that all he really wanted was to hold you in any way possible.

“You were eleven.” Nikki corrected.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do pink roses then. Red’s always been more of your color.” You teased your fiance, and he looked at you, playfully unimpressed.

“Time to redo the wedding. We need it to be red and blue.” Tom joked, taking a sip of his champagne.

The baker came back with a tray of assorted cakes, a bright, yet nervous smile on her face. You could tell that she wanted to impress prospecting clients, but the way she eyed Tom was a dead giveaway that she knew exactly who he was. She set down the pieces of cake on the table, explaining each one- chocolate with cappuccino mousse, pink champagne with vanilla buttercream, lemon cake with a limoncello buttercream, and a classic fruitcake, extra boozy.

“I’ve never been a fan of fruitcake.” Tom admitted as the baker left the three of you alone.

“It’s traditional.” You reasoned, “Besides, it can be the top tier so it’s the smallest.”

As you took a bite of the fruitcake, which had to be the best and booziest fruitcake you’ve ever tasted, Tom turned to his mother, “What kind of cake did you and dad have at your wedding?”

“What kind do you think?” Nikki laughed, taking a bite of her fruitcake piece.

Tom shuddered, and you playfully rolled your eyes at him. Holding out a forkful of your fruitcake to him, you teased, “Come on, you big baby, just try it. It’s incredible.”

Without any objections, he did as told. You watched as he bit back a smile at the taste. “It’s not the worst thing ever.”

“Uhuh, that’s what I thought.” You nodded, helping yourself to some of the chocolate cake. The second it hit your tongue, you knew you wanted it as a part of the actual wedding cake. It was the perfect balance of chocolate and espresso flavors, and you just wanted more of it.

“Shit, that’s a good cake.” Tom said beside you, having just had a bite of the chocolate as well. He barely got the words out before he went for another bite. With a mouthful of chocolate cake, he turned to you, “We have to get this one.”

“Definitely.” You agreed.

If you thought the chocolate cake was perfection, the pink champagne one was a slice of heaven. The lemon one, while it was the best lemon cake you had ever eaten, just couldn’t compare.

And, as quickly as you all had tried (more like, eaten) the cakes, you had decided on the flavors: chocolate as the bottom-most tier, pink champagne in the middle, and a small fruit cake tier perched on top. Thanks to your saved images on the Hollosterfield Webbing Pinterest board, you both knew a three-tiered, smooth white cake with pink flowers trickling down the side was how you wanted your wedding cake to be designed.

After everything was finalized with the baker, the three of you exited the bakery and made your way to the cars outside. Aloud, Tom pondered, “I wonder if they’ll let us come back and sample some flavors again. We didn’t get to try the red velvet.”

“We’ll end up with a million wedding cakes if we sample any more.” You teased, and he just shrugged.

“That doesn’t sound like a problem.”

“Are you off to your suit fitting?” Nikki asked Tom, when the three of you came to a stop in front of Tom’s car and Nikki’s. He nodded in response.

“I’ve got to drop Y/N off at home, and then I’ll meet the boys at the tailors. They’re probably already there waiting for me.” He admitted sheepishly, making Nikki shake her head.

“I can drive you home, Y/N.” She offered. “And we can stop for lunch, too.”

“I’d love-” You began, but Tom cut you off.

“Mum, are you trying to steal my fiancee?” There was a small, overdramatic pout on his lips, and you rolled your eyes playfully at his antics.

“Oh no, you’ve uncovered my master plan.” Nikki said, sarcastically.

Laughing, you turned to Tom and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his embrace. You leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Go get yourself a hot ass suit.”

“A hot ass suit? So I can’t get a vomit green suit?” He joked.

“Preferably no vomit green.” You stated, and Tom leaned in to give you a chaste kiss.

“I’ll see you at home.” He whispered to you, giving you one last peck on the lips before he stepped away from you to go to his car.

“Don’t miss me too much.” You blew him a kiss, and he overdramatically pretended to catch it. He was a dork, but he was your dork- and in a few months, he’d officially be your dork forever.

Just over an hour later, you and Nikki had finished eating your lunch, but you found yourselves still enjoying your chat away from the others; it was a rare occasion that it was ever just the two of you.

“Thank you for this, Nikki.” You told her with a smile.

“You don’t have to thank me. You’re family, now.” She reassured you. She paused for a moment, “I wanted to give you something.”

“Oh, Nikki-“ You started, but your voice got caught in your throat as she slid a small, dark blue velvet box across the table. Slowly, under her anxious and watchful eyes, you opened it. On a soft white cushion inside sat a pair of sapphire stud earrings, encased by small, beautiful diamonds. You were at a loss for words as you gazed at the brilliant jewelry before you.

“When Dom proposed to me, my engagement ring had two sapphires— my birthstone, and, when we got married and I got my wedding ring, I stopped wearing it. Then, Tom proposed to you, and I had the ring’s sapphires remade into earrings. I told myself I’d give the sapphires to my daughter, and you’re my daughter now, so that it’s only right that you have them.” She explained. When you finally managed to tear your eyes away from the earrings to look at her, you saw the proud, yet nervous smile on her face and the slight buildup of tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” was all you could manage to say. You reached over the table and held her hand, giving it a squeeze of reassurance, to silently tell her how much it meant to you because both of you knew you the tear gates would open if you spoke another word.

That night, as Tom got ready for bed, you couldn’t help yourself from looking at the earrings again, eyeing how the glittered in the dim light from your nightstand. Tom wandered into the room, his sweats hanging low on his waist.

“I’m exhausted. Who knew eating cake and taking measurements would be so tiring?” He yawned, getting into the bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, ready to cuddle as he fell asleep, when he noticed the box in your hand. “What’s that?”

“Your mum gave them to me. The sapphires were used in her engagement ring.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke, both of you knowing the weight of the words. You felt Tom’s fingers shift to find your hands, his finger ghosting over your own engagement ring. “She said they were meant for her daughter and that I-“

You stopped yourself short, knowing he could fill in rest. Ever so sweetly, Tom placed a chaste kiss to your lips, and his hand cupped the side of your face as he pulled away. “You’re a Holland now.”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-hollands @lonikje @sleepybesson @bvttercupbby @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorrillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys @duskholland @biebsmylife95 @dummiesshort @perspectiveparker @miraclesoflove @ethereal-beauty-p @rebekkah4766

Tom Holland Tag List: @quaksonhehe @tomkindholland @tomthetease @agustdowney

Series Tag List: @thefallenbibliophilequote @wassup-peoples @thevelvetseries @greatpizzascissorstaco @tomhollandsotherpinkytoe @asonofpeter @millennial-teenybopper

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic

144 notes · View notes

wizardofrozz · 3 years

Text

Prompt 2: Shapeshifter

Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark

Word Count: 2,279

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, mention of murder

A/N: There aren’t any pairings in the fic, just platonic interactions. But I’m a little self-conscious of about this fic 😬 so be nice lol

The man pressed himself against the wall, watching his target laugh loudly with his group of friends. They stumbled, obviously intoxicated, and the man shook his head, realizing how easy this would be. He stepped out of the shadows, his long hair shielding the part of his face that wasn’t covered by his mask. The group of intoxicated men stumbled into an alleyway, their laughter still echoing off the surrounding buildings as he moved closer.

Parts of the group started to break off, wandering in the direction of their homes until the target was the only one left, staggering through the alleyway. The man glanced at the camera on the corner of the building before hurrying after his mark. He approached the target silently, only reaching out when he could smell the stale scent of booze wafting off the target.

“What the…” the target gasped. The air was forced from his lungs when the masked man slammed him against the nearby wall by the throat. The light over the alleyway sparkled off the metal around the target’s throat. “O-oh my g-god…you’re…you’re the Wi-.” The target was cut off when the man closed his fist.

Steve’s piercing ringtone jolted him awake, and he scrambled around for his phone, nearly falling off his bed.

“Hello?”

“Captain Rogers.” Steve blinked, pulling the phone away from his head to read the caller ID; Secretary Ross’ office number shined back at him, and he brought the phone to his ear again.

“Secretary Ross?”

“You need to get eyes of Barnes immediately,” Ross snapped.

“What? Why?” Steve fumbled around, almost knocking his lamp over in the process of trying to turn it on.

“There’s been a possible Winter Soldier sighting, and I need to know if it’s authentic,” Ross explained through his teeth.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Steve mumbled, sliding out of bed.

“Stark, Romanoff, and Wilson should be meeting you somewhere in the compound. They should’ve been alerted as well,” Ross added. “I expect a call when you’ve got an answer.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve hummed, hanging up before Ross could say anything else.

Pounding on his bedroom door yanked Bucky out of a dead sleep, the first he’d had in a long time. He stumbled out of bed, throwing the door open, a sleepy scowl etched deep into his face; the expression fell away when he was met with a small group outside his door. Steve stood at the front in his pajamas, Nat behind him wrapped in a fuzzy red robe, Tony looking grumpy in a t-shirt and shorts, and Sam shirtless at the back of the group. All four of them looked surprised when he answered the door, leaving an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“Did I miss the midnight invitation for a party in my bedroom?” Bucky snapped, scratching at the short stubble on his chin.

“Uh,” Steve started, blinking lamely at Bucky. “S-sorry.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Sam yawned, wandering away from Bucky’s door.

“I second that,” Nat sighed, wrapping her robe tighter around her chest and following Sam. Steve and Tony shared a look before Tony sighed and disappeared down the hall as well; Bucky stared at Steve, trying to understand what just happened.

“Steve,” Bucky pushed.

“Sorry, we, uh, got a call from Ross,” Steve supplied, mindlessly scratching at his stomach.

“About?”

“There was a report of a sighting of…of the Winter Soldier.”

The following day, Bucky sat down with Steve and Tony for a virtual conference with Ross; he wrung his hands under the table, trying to avoid fidgeting with his hair or clothes.

“Secretary Ross,” Tony greeted flatly when his face appeared on the screen.

“Gentlemen,” Ross grumbled. “Let’s cut to the chase. I need verification that Sergeant Barnes was in the compound all night.”

“FRIDAY, send Secretary Ross the footage outside Barnes’ door last night,” Tony called, dropping in the chair opposite the screen.

“It’s been taken care of, sir,” FRIDAY replied after a few seconds.

“Where was the sighting?” Steve spoke up, resting a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“New Jersey,” Ross provided, sounding slightly distracted. “There’s no other way out of his bedroom?”

“No, sir,” Steve started, but Tony cut in.

“The rooms have windows, but there are alarm systems on them, so FRIDAY would notify me if anything went in or out of the window.”

“And she can’t be overridden?” Ross raised a brow, watching Tony through his screen, looking for any signs of lying.

“Look, sir,” Bucky cut in, leaning against the table. “I understand you don’t trust me, period, but I didn’t leave the compound last night or at all yesterday now that I think about it, and I’m also not technologically inclined enough to do anything to FRIDAY.”

“Every possibility needs to be checked, Sergeant Barnes,” Ross hissed, glaring at him.

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir,” Bucky replied immediately, sitting back in his chair like a scolded child.

“I’ll have FRIDAY run a complete system scan and check for any disturbances,” Tony sighed, massaging between his eyes.

“Good,” Ross grunted. “Sergeant Barnes is not to leave the confines of the compound without an escort until further notice. I would also advise FRIDAY to keep tabs on his every movement in case of a further incident.”

Steve’s eyes scrunched shut, and he bit his tongue to keep from arguing. “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll be in touch,” was all Ross said before the call ended and Tony, Steve, and Bucky were left sitting in silence.

Bucky was vindicated a few days later when Ross decided Bucky was asleep in the compound that night. Even though Bucky was cleared to do whatever he wanted now, an anxious hum took root under his skin, leaving him on edge constantly. Steve reluctantly agreed to show Bucky the surveillance video from the incident, but it only made the sick feeling in his stomach worse. Someone was walking around with what seemed to be his face, and he had no idea who it was or why they were doing it.

A few weeks passed with no new sightings, and Bucky started to relax, giving into Sam and Steve’s begging to get out of the compound. The three decided on a bar nearby and agreed to bring Nat and Wanda along for some fresh air. Bucky managed to have a little bit of fun after the last few weeks of paranoia; Wanda sucked him into a conversation about a book she was reading when Nat got up for another drink.

“Hey,” Steve cut in, startling Bucky and Wanda. “Where’d Nat go?”

“She went to grab a drink,” Wanda provided, furrowing her brow at Steve.

“Yeah, like 10 minutes ago,” Sam added.

“Should we check on her?” Bucky asked, glancing at the slightly crowded bar.

“Maybe she went to the bathroom,” Wanda provided. “I have to go too, so I’ll see if I can find her.” The three men nodded stiffly, watching the redhead weave through the crowds of people.

“Thanks, guys,” Bucky sighed, bringing his beer to his lips again.

“You were turning into a hermit,” Sam snorted, knocking shoulders with the super-soldier.

“I had a good reason,” Bucky argued, tipping his bottle towards Sam. Steve shook his head, looking ready to add something when horror bloomed on his face, and he jumped from his chair. Sam tried to ask what happened, but he was already gone; the remaining two looked at each other before getting to their feet, following the path Steve had taken. They pushed through two people in their way, nearly running Steve over; Wanda was in front of him with a badly beaten Natasha draped over her shoulder.

“What the fuck happened,” Sam gasped, shifting around Steve. Nat lifted her head, finding Sam but her eyes quickly flickered over to Bucky, rage exploding from her.

“You!” she screamed, lunging away from Wanda. Steve sidestepped, catching Nat before she could get to Bucky.

“What happened!” Steve shouted, struggling to keep Nat caged in his arms.

“That fucking asshole a-“ Nat stopped, going limp in Steve’s grip as she looked over Bucky again, her face going slack. “But…I just…hold on.”

“Nat, I didn’t touch you,” Bucky whispered, taking a step closer.

“Oh fuck,” she breathed, her eyes growing wider at the same time Bucky’s did.

“We gotta go,” Sam suddenly said, herding the present Avengers towards the door. Bucky stumbled along, barely aware of what was going on as panic set in again; he was pushed down into the backseat of Steve’s car, pressing against Wanda’s side.

“He was there,” Bucky whispered, staring wide-eyed at the floor.

Bucky tip-toed down the dark alley, gun at the ready as he checked every nook and cranny, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Anything yet?” Steve’s crackled in his ear, scaring him, but he didn’t flinch.

“Nothing,” Bucky whispered back, quickly turning down to check another break in the buildings.

“Fuck,” Nat hissed through the earpiece. Bucky sighed, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders and bring them down from around his ears, but he was too wound up. He could hear the faint bustle of New York City over the thump of his boots against the concrete; the team got a tip of a sighting in the city the night before and wasted no time heading out. Nat, Steve, Sam, Clint, Wanda, and Bucky were spread out around the general area of the sighting, looking for any clues.

“Oh Jesus,” Clint retched. The faint sound on his dinner coming up made Bucky’s stomach turn, and a shiver ran through him.

“Clint?” Nat’s yell echoed from a street near Bucky, and he took off running in the direction where Clint should be.

“I don’t know what the fuck this is, but, uhhh,” Clint panted. Bucky rounded the nearest corner, meeting Wanda and Sam there before heading towards Clint, who was bracing himself against a building, spitting and wiping his mouth.

“What is it?” Steve jogged towards them from the opposite direction with Nat on his heels. Clint weakly waved towards the break in the alley, refusing to turn around again; Bucky, Steve, and Sam approached slowly, searching for whatever Clint found.

“What the fuck!” Sam yelled, jumping back into Bucky. Bucky shot him an exasperated look before stepping around him to look, and man, did he regret it. It looked like a pile of clothes at first glance, but the longer he studied it, he noticed what looked like skin catching the light. Bile burned at the back of Bucky’s throat as he stumbled away, horrified, barely making it away from Sam before hurling himself. Somehow Steve and Sam managed to keep their composure as they took a closer look; Wanda and Nat didn’t even bother to try.

“Alright,” Steve mumbled, trying to hide his disgusted shiver. “Continue the sweep and look for any more of this…stuff.”

“Great,” Clint sighed, pushing away from the wall he was leaning on. Without another word, Bucky, Clint, Wanda, and Nat took off, desperate to get away from whatever the fuck they found. Bucky tried to stay focused as he moved back onto his block, but he couldn’t get the image of the pile of what he was sure now was skin. He kept walking, checking any place someone could hide, but he was still so preoccupied with their discovery that he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps. Bucky stopped to inspect the stairs that led down to the backdoor of a building when he finally heard them, but it was too late.

“I didn’t think you’d ever find me.” Bucky froze. The sound of his own voice calling out to him, taunting him, was stranger and more terrifying than he’d imagined. He slowly turned, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and never letting his guard down. Bucky’s stomach turned as he met familiar blue eyes that he was only used to seeing in the mirror.

“What…what are you,” Bucky stammered, staring at his own face twisted in a sadistic smirk.

“Bucky?” Sam said in his ear. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t really think that’s important,” Bucky’s look-a-like chuckled, lazily strolling closer.

“Kinda important to me,” Bucky snapped, tightening his grip on the gun at his side.

“Let me put it this way,” the other huffed. “It won’t matter for much longer.” Bucky was too distracted by the copy of himself walking and talking that he didn’t notice the slight movement of the copy’s left arm. Bucky stared down the barrel of the gun, his blood roaring in his ears as his heart nearly burst through his ribs; he at least had enough sense at that moment to lift his own gun.

Sam jogged to meet Steve halfway and caught a flash of Wanda’s red hair under the lights at the other end.

“Hurry up!” Steve yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. Clint, Wanda, and Nat picked up their pace, and as soon as they were close enough, Sam and Steve fell in step. The Avengers were only a few feet from the mouth of the alleyway when the gunshot rang out, quick and efficient like the strike of a cobra. The five skid to stop, staring down at the figure facing them as the figure dropped their arm.

“Took ya long enough,” Bucky panted, stepping over the body at his feet.

“Thank god,” Steve choked out, bending to brace his hands on his knees.

“Let’s go take care of, whatever that is,” Sam offered, taking a deep breath and smacking Bucky’s shoulder as he passed.

“Nice job, buddy,” Clint sighed, elbowing Bucky before following Sam. ‘Bucky’ stood with his back to them, a dark smile slowly crawling up his face.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@marvelfansworld

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky fic #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes fic #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #clint barton #sam wilson #tony stark #halloween #shapeshifter #spooktober

22 notes · View notes

abundanceofnots · 4 years

Note

Ficlet idea: Now that Mickey’s using kevs gym he’s been giving guys tips from his prison workouts. Ian is NOT happy about the level of attention he gets when he stops by one day

(You can read this fic here, or on AO3.)

So, the KevFit membership was still a thing. Cool.

And, okay, listen. It wasn’t that Ian minded Mickey going to the gym. Of course, he didn’t. It was just the way this whole thing came to be that Ian wouldn’t call ideal.

Mickey liked to say Ian body-shamed him into working out, and frankly, Ian could see why he would.

They gave each other shit all the time. Laughed about hairy toes, prodded at each other’s saggy parts. And when they were both in the right headspace, it was just that—provoking banter. But Mickey, being the sensitive creature that he was, sometimes took it too close to heart.

And yeah, maybe Ian nagged him a few too many times about staying healthy after the lockdown started when Mickey’s only method of balancing out his liquid beer diet was riding Ian’s dick. But by then, it felt like they’d been occupying the same 1x1 bedroom for years, so it wasn’t exactly Ian’s fault.

If Mickey decided to go about it this way, great. Seriously. It only meant that Ian didn’t need to worry about getting his knuckles bruised anytime soon. And while he secretly mourned the loss of Mickey’s soft belly, he wasn’t going to complain. Not when Mickey looked the way he did now.

The thought was on Ian’s mind again that morning while he brushed his teeth over the bathroom sink, using the time on his hands to watch his husband in the mirror as he showered.

The curtain was only partially closed, just enough so that Mickey wasn’t splashing water around the tub while still leaving space for Ian to see him.

And boy, did he see him.

His broad shoulders. His arms stretching as he ran his hands through his wet hair. The dimples on his back. The marks Ian left on his ass when they fucked earlier.

When Mickey turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub, Ian found himself drawn to the little water droplets sliding over the Ian Galager tattoo and down his pecs, his abs, the V shape of his hips, and into his pubes.

Ian only realized he entirely forgot to move the toothbrush in his mouth when one corner of Mickey’s mouth curled into a teasing smirk.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Mickey asked, sounding smug as hell as he reached for his towel.

“Definitely not your ugly mug.”

Coming out all muffled, Ian’s words lost some of their intended edges. He angled himself back to the sink and spat.

“You have the tits of a 12-year-old girl,” he added quickly like there was a five-second rule for when you could still save your diss. He looked up just in time to see Mickey scrunch his face in mild outrage.

“Fuck off, these are C cups at least.”

“Like you're such an expert on those.”

Ian let out a low yelp as Mickey unexpectedly smacked his back, right around where his Monica tattoo was.

“Well, they're not your mom's tits, that's for sure,” Mickey noted through a sneer.

He then went back to drying himself, and Ian allowed himself to openly gawk at his slightly misty reflection again.

Several mechanical strokes of his toothbrush later, the thought came back, clouding his mind with an ugly feeling.

The intuitive thing would be to push it back and pretend like everything was okay, but they were married now and told each other shit, right? He had to say something.

“Going to the gym again today?” Ian asked eventually, trying to come off as noncommittal as he could with his mouth full and his eyes trained on the drain.

Obviously, he didn’t mind getting horny over his buff husband. No, the actual reason Ian was so bothered about all this was that other people now had free reigns to get horny over him as well.

You see, since Mickey started paying Kev’s gym his regular visits, he’d managed to attract a flock of followers. Fucking fans.

That, at least, was what Ian called them. Mickey, of course, didn’t see it like that. For him, they were paying customers.

“It’s easy money, man. And the crowd’s gettin’ bigger and bigger every week.” Mickey looked pleased as he wrapped the towel around his hips. “Anyway, it’s not like I have to do much. Most of the time, I just do my thing, and the bunch of ‘em stare at my ass.”

Ian bent forward and spat.

“So basically, they pay to jerk off your ego,” he pointed out, slumping his shoulders to show how totally unimpressed he was by that notion.

“’Xactly. And maybe something else, too.”

Mickey’s cackle followed him out into the hallway as he left Ian alone in the bathroom.

---

It was clearly a joke. A nasty joke that was supposed to leave a sting, but there was absolutely no need for Ian to worry. And he kept telling himself that all day—right until the moment he entered the badly-lit backroom of the Alibi and found himself in the company of a pack of Northsiders in designer label gym clothes.

Before he could spot Mickey anywhere among them, some blond guy in what seemed like an uncomfortably too tight a tank top came to his side.

„Looks like we have a newcomer in our midst.” The guy clicked his tongue, giving Ian an blatant once-over. “You here for the Mickeffect?”

„The what?“

„The Mickeffect. That’s what we call this class. Unofficially, of course, because the class is sorta kinda unofficial, too.” At that, he sniggered, which Ian immediately found annoying. “3pm, every Tuesday and Thursday. You from the Facebook group?”

Ian resisted the urge to scoff. “Uh, no.”

“Just lucky coincidence, then? Well, since you’re already here, I think you’re gonna enjoy yourself. The dude who leads this class is ex-con, so he knows all the right ways to abuse the body if you know what I mean.”

Clenching his fists inside the pockets of his sweatpants, Ian smiled politely and nodded. He wasn’t going to give this blond douchebag the satisfaction and punch him in the face. Not yet, at least.

“Hot as hell, too. And man, that ass. Simply de-licious. The whole thing actually only went off after I posted a video of him doing squats. Got 50k views in a day, a whole article on PinkNews a week later. The title was The Ex-con Hunk Who Makes Chicagoans Sweat Like Crazy – And Then Tells Them Off. Funny.”

The guy shrugged in this wannabe innocent you know how it is way. Ian was relieved to realize he really, really didn’t.

“We get new people all the time, but the return rate is terrible,” Blond Douchebag continued, amazingly. “Most of the boys come for Mickey but then leave with someone else. Maybe you’ll get lucky here, too.”

“I’m married,“ Ian retorted, hoping it would be enough to make him stop talking.

But Blond Douchebag didn’t even blink. “Yeah, so are some of the guys here. And he is, too, but I don’t think he’s the typa guy who would be deterred by that.“

Careful there, pal, Ian thought. Or you might find your pretty face landing very unprettily on a beer keg.

“Oh, hey!“

The familiar voice came out of nowhere, prematurely ending Ian’s plans to show this complete dickwad the practical meaning of the word concussion.

His head snapped to his right where Mickey was now standing, his eyes carefully roaming over Ian. There was a softness in them for a moment before his whole face morphed into a smirk.

„Came to learn something from the expert?” he teased.

Ian clenched his jaw. “Something like that.”

As Mickey moved past them, Blond Douchebag gave Ian a sly wink.

---

Ian wasn’t sure what kind of problems the snooty Northsiders could possibly be dealing with in their private lives, but this whole thing seemed to have almost therapeutical effects on them.

Mickey called them Ansel Elgort (not a compliment) or White Kanye West (also not a compliment) while he listened to their crap, and they giggled like teenage girls. He yelled at them for being pussies, and they were only a touch away from popping a boner. It made zero fucking sense.

And Mickey, well. The dickhead was so clearly giving them an upgraded version to his usual performance. Biting his bottom lip all the time. Flexing his muscles a little too hard. Grabbing everyone’s attention by letting out these exaggerated grunts.

Ian officially reached his bullshit limit when Mickey finished off a set of pull-ups and promptly took his shirt off to wipe his face. The way everything around him seemed to come to a stop for a hot minute had Ian’s eyes rolling.

It was totally ridiculous. Were these guys really so desperate?

Getting a better grip on the skipping rope he was using, Ian caught Mickey watching him, his brows arched, the dare behind them so plain and obvious.

And yeah, okay, asshole. Two could play this game.

“You know what,” Ian started out loud so everyone could hear him. He let the rope fall to his feet and instead tugged his own shirt off. “We did things a little differently in the army.”

His grin widened when he heard one of the guys audibly gulp.

---

“Fifty!”

“One hundred!”

“Fuck off, you can’t do one hundred push-ups in one go.”

“With one hand behind my back.”

Maybe kneeling on the feet of two wheezing guys doing sit-ups wasn’t the best time to have a whispered shouting match with your husband, but honestly, Ian couldn’t give two shits. Mickey was seriously pissing him off—and like hell was he going to let him win. Even if it was just this one petty argument.

“You need stamina when you’re the top. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to do all the fucking work while the bottom just lies there.”

“Oh, oh, please! Tell us more about your workouts in the army. Was this before or after you tried to run away from there by stealing a damn helicopter?”

They were suddenly aware that their periphery vision got surprisingly still. Almost in tandem, they looked down at the alarmed expressions of their trainees.

“Did I fuckin’ tell you to stop, Asthma Boy?” Mickey grumbled at his guy. “Gimme three more sets of twenty!”

---

Blond Douchebag must have taken a genuine liking to him because he later offered to cover Ian as he pounded into the punching bag. And while he technically did hold onto the punching bag, his eyes were always on Mickey.

“Wonder who Ian is,” he mused as he observed Mickey’s topless form. “Think it’s the husband? Probably doesn’t even realize what a hot piece of ass he’s got at home.”

Too easy. It would be entirely too easy to pretend Ian’s hand slipped and he hit him by mistake, and he wasn’t going to stoop that low. He wasn’t.

Taking in a deep breath, Ian started punching harder.

He wasn’t.

“Everything okay here?”

Mickey had his shirt tucked under the elastic band of his pants, and from the corner of his eyes, Ian couldn’t help but notice the light sheen of sweat that covered his face and upper body. He wasn’t the only one.

“Oh, more than okay,” Blond Douchebag practically purred.

Punch. Punch. Punch.

“Whoa, Ian, hey.” Mickey sounded worried. “Take it easy, man.”

And fucking finally, that seemed to have done the job. Because Blond Douchebag wasn’t looking at Mickey anymore, he was looking back at Ian, and his bravado was long gone. Now, there was childlike fear in his stance, and Ian almost pitied him.

“Oh shit. You’re Ian,” he managed before the next punch landed right into his face, knocking him down on the floor.

Panting, Ian stood over him as he clutched his bleeding nose.

“Yes, I’m Ian,” he snarled at him. “And his ass is all mine.”

Someone gripped his arm then.

“Okay, the show’s over, Muhammad Ali. Better get out of here,” Mickey muttered as he pushed Ian across the gym, past all the Northside wimps who seemed too tired to do anything other than being in shock. “Come on. Ian, come the fuck on!”

From the Alibi, they ran. Sprinted along the streets and over honking cars, zig-zagged through commuters, and flipped off those who wolf-whistled at their half-naked bodies. They ran until they ended up in a dirty alley with no one else in sight, their sides on fire, and broke into a fit of laughter.

Ian only realized Mickey brought his shirt when he used it to slap his chest.

“Jealous fucker.”

“Shut the fuck up. Wasn’t jealous.”

But Mickey was still wearing that suggestive whatcha gonna do now smirk, and his lips were shiny from being licked over just a second ago, and so the next thing Ian knew, he was pushing him against a wall and kissing him thoroughly.

His hands went to Mickey’s ass, lifting him up just slightly as his fingers dug in, and Ian pulled back to let out a moan.

“Mm, I fuckin’ love your ass.”

Mickey groaned. “Jesus Christ, please don’t tell me all of this was because of my ass.”

Leaning down again, Ian murmured into his mouth: “Isn’t it always?”

#sorry anon this took FOREVER #hope it makes you laugh at least #they're being dumb and competitive and in love #just how we like 'em #shameless fanfiction #gallavich fic #gallavich #writing prompt #my fics

161 notes · View notes

lysershine · 3 years

Text

@willwoodimagines lore timeline (what is my life)

So firstly, a fuckin massive thank you to @hotsinglelemonsinyourarea because I cannot do this shit alone and he’s helped me compile all of their old posts because I, apparently, underestimated how long they’ve been doing this. So from this point forward, I’m assuming nothing is a joke. Here we go!!

I am so sorry. Let’s do this.

So earliest posts that are likely lore come from around April the 9th. This post is a conversation seemingly between Three and One where Two is gone on a road trip, -- although it might not Actually Be A Road Trip, -- and then One tells everyone to stop acting like Two is dead, because he’s not. Which, fair enough, although later in the conversation, Two replies and seems to invent that he’s at the beach, probably to calm down the people speculating about his whereabouts. I am Anything But Calm.

There’s also this post, presumably from One or Three but it’s hard to tell cuz Three didn’t start signing posts until much later and they type pretty similarly, where they tell us we should be grateful for them feeding us and keeping us warm, and it’s tagged with ‘#I wish I was warm.’

So here’s where stuff gets very interesting! Backstory, people! In this post, we start to see some pieces put together. The imagine reads:

IMAGINE: Will Wood invites you into his home for an exclusive performance of I/Me/Myself. You are so excited! But then, he asks you to come down into his wine cellar, explaining that his keyboard is down there. You go down there hesitantly. You don’t realize for several minutes that he did not follow you down here. The only things here are a laptop and a sticky note with the words “POST IMAGINES” written in sharpie. You are so afraid and attempt to leave the way you came in but the door is gone. You are trapped. It is so cold and you just want to see your family again.

So that’s horrifying!! But it gives us insight into how the mods were probably captured and why they’re running this blog. It’s a great blog. 10/10, doesn’t make me solve codes. Oh wait.

After that post, -- which I am assuming comes from Three, -- we’re treated to a bunch of morse code that the wonderful Nigel was kind enough to translate for me:

They then added in a reblog, “It seems I have made a typo! I meant mod 1 won’t let me speak, I am mod 3.” So, it seems like One is trying to quiet any cries for help.

This is shortly thereafter followed by this post from the 11th, and to quote directly, it says:

IMAGINE: Inside of the cellar basemeant, there is a suit. It is tempting but Weill said you are not allowed to touch. YOu know you want to. Touch it. he is guarding it. he is hiding something. follow for more will woof imagines.

So that’s riddled with typos, and if you stick them all together you just get eeOf so I’m gonna assume that all this means is that this post is courtesy of Two. There’s also a skeleton circled so maybe Will has previous victims or something? Who knows.

On the 12th, we have a couple posts, one about being in Will’s basement and watching him cosplay the onceler, another about Will being vaguely inhuman. Don’t know how important that is but I’m gonna make note of it anyway, because Will being inhuman especially might make sense for some stuff.

The next seemingly important post is this one:

So this one is probably about Two, my evidence being this post and the fact that, following this, Two gets significantly worse at spelling and more confused about what’s going on with their captivity. My best guess is that Two gets in trouble either for the lack of imagines OR they did touch the suit from that earlier imagine and now they know something that they shouldn’t. Either way, Will takes him away and brainwashes??? Lobotomizes??? Bite of ‘87s???? Idk???? I’m gonna go with lobotomy, it seems the most accurate to Two’s behavior from here on out, I really have no idea but he comes back Very Different. And in the tags it says ‘Laplace’s Angel 2:14!’ and the line at that time is “Somebody, help me!” so you know, pretty straightforward cry for help.

Though it makes me think that in the cellar, they are probably limited to interaction with only things directly connected to Will Wood, which is why “as a treat” they watch the documentary and they communicate with his music like this. They’re not allowed any media other than his.

Anyway, here’s an important note: From this point forward, Two is an unreliable narrator. Everything he says from here on out should be taken with a pillar of salt. (H.A.L.T., it’s not my fault!)

So with that in mind, the next post of importance is this one, a conversation that goes Three, One, and then Two. Two says Will let them watch the documentary as a treat, One tells them to stop making it seem like Will is holding them captive, and Three just says “movee :-)”. Which, fair enough.

The next posts that are worth noting are this one, where Three simply says “mental anguish” and One shuts them down saying that no one on the blog is experiencing that, and threatens them in the tags, and then this one where someone is being silenced.

There’s this post, which in the website version of their blog links to itself, I don’t know how or why or if that matters but if someone figures something out with that, please let me know. There’s also this imagine, which is about bodyswapping with Will -- storywise, I don’t think this is something that really happens, -- but it’s tagged with ‘#I miss my family.’ So that’s Not Good.

There’s some posts in between solidifying that despite this wackiness, the mods are indeed still friends. And then we go straight back into absolute horror with this post:

And so evidently they are Less Than Okay and probably being held captive by Will Wood. It’s immediately followed by this morse code, presumably from Three because he seems to use morse where One uses binary, and when deciphered, it reads: “I am blinking. Hear my cry.” Three’s post is then followed by One trying to shush them once more, saying:

“[W]e at Willwoodimagines would like to apologize for last night. We might have, perhaps, made it seem as if we are being held in a wine cellar against our Will (Wood), and that some of us have been down here for six years, and that we may miss our families, but I, Mod 1, would like to remind you that we are fine and need no help! Cheers!:) #We are NOT blinking. At all. #Not at all. No blinking from us! Blinking? Aha! Not at all.”

So what can be gathered from this is that they’re absolutely being held in Will Wood’s wine cellar, and some of them have been there for six years, and they miss their families, are NOT fine, definitely need help, and are CERTAINLY blinking. Also the random bolded letters spell “help” again.

Then there’s this post, which Nigel translated for me (ty man ily):

We also have this crudely-drawn map from Two, but it doesn’t seem to be related to anything. Anyway, the address is totally garbled, yep, but nonetheless if you put it into Google you get the address for a relatively poorly-rated landfill in New Jersey:

So clearly someone picked up on that, because then we have an ask from an anon who wants to know what the recycling situation is where they are being held. One seems very confused by this question, and Two pipes in saying that have a trashcan. Their confusion would make me assume this is the wrong address, but I don’t actually have to assume, because One(?) confirms it later with this post containing binary that can be translated to read:

“oh god the address was wrong i don't know where we fucking are help“

So you know, concerning! This is immediately followed by another ask, this one in binary. The conversation goes:

“Are you good?” “Absolutely not”

Which kinda speaks for itself. There’s also a quiz they made and I took it to see if there was any lore and uh apparently I’m most like One, so that’s poggers, I think? Idk there wasn’t any lore though. There is this post where Three says that Two’s favorite song isn’t a Will Wood song, and One threatens to knock them the fuck out, and I’m adding this as a point to my theory that they’re unallowed to consume media unrelated to WW. They make up though, so it’s fine.

It gets more quiet and more confusing for a while, Three saying “wake up” and this post being tagged with ‘#I’m cold and I am afraid.’ Two leaves again, Three goes quiet cuz they’re having a rough time, Two hates being smol-bean-ified and is behind held below One and Three, who seem to be in the same room? They’re also all starving, and Three could be an arsonist if you let them out.

Blah blah, they called me out and I cried about it, and NOW we’ve reached the 100-follower-special. Thank fuck.

Three posts this, it leads to binary, and that binary says:

“Listen carefully. The video that Will (Wood) be posted is extremely important. Do not skip it.“

This is immediately followed by this video of Two sprinting through the woods, presumably to freedom, if you read the tags. Three follows that with another post, saying “It has begun.” One shuts them down again in this post, but it links to binary that says:

“hello? can you read this? mod 2 is free! and hopefully will be coming back for us both. you all did absolutely nothing to help so i'm not thanking you for this. however i am thanking you for following us all! you've given us moral support thank you, mod 1“

As I’ve said earlier, I’m fairly certain that their captor is Will and he has access to this tumblr, which is why One especially is trying to be quiet about this. Like in this post where they apologize for the insanity on the blog, which links to binary, and it reads:

“we’re not in ddlc. i am not monika. listen to me closely. mod 3 and i are still stuck here. we have been posting cries for help for weeks. go look for them! they’re like easter eggs. just for you! thank you, mod 1“

DO I LOOK LIKE I’M COLLECTING EGGS YET??? DO I??????? Anyway, I got named the official lore account so now I’m fucking trapped here, and then we get some posts about how Two has made it to a McDonald’s.

Then One posts yet another apology, with two links. Link one directs you to a groupchat between the three mods, detailing Two’s escape and everyone’s very odd adoration for fast food. But then again, Three says they’ve been eating slop for a while, so. Fair enough. To bring back my old commentary about this, though; in this conversation there seems to be a bit of confusion over who exactly put them in the cellar where they’re captured, but as we saw earlier it was indeed Will Wood himself who is keeping them prisoner. However, Two also asserts that very soon he will be able to save One and Three, apparently with the help of Will? So there are two possibilities here:

1. Two is still an unreliable narrator, so it’s a possibility that his lobotomy or whatever has ruined his ability to perceive threats and he is being tricked by Will, who is indeed their captor, and will get thrown back in the cellar with the other two.

2. Something bigger than Will is controlling the situation. It makes no sense that all three mods would remember Will putting them in the cellar if he didn’t. So someone else could be controlling Will, I don’t know. They allude to a person from the documentary and initially I assumed it was Will but I actually haven’t seen the movie (shock and horror, I know, I’m sorry), so maybe it’s someone else and that’s the piece of the puzzle I’m missing? Idk, if you’ve made it this far and you’ve seen the documentary, check the conversation and let me know.

Link two leads to binary, and when translated it becomes:

“i do think it’s less endearing and more terrifying how people on a blogging website care more about my freedom than my own friends and family did i dont need to sign this. you know who it’s from“

Which, maybe, but I love ARGs and Nigel and I are already incredibly invested so whoops. Besides, who’s gonna do it if we don’t?

Anyway!!! I sent an ask in response to some of my confusion for the groupchat, and because One said to keep sending messages. One responded, and I was redirected to even more binary because of course! This time it says:

“THANK YOU FOR ASKING MOD 2 SAID THAT HE HAS INTERACTED WITH WILL. SO I DO NOT THINK WE ARE BEING HELD BY WILL HIMSELF. I BELIEVE MOD 3 KNOWS BUT WHEN I ASKED AGAIN HE JUST TOLD ME THAT IT WAS THE GUY FROM THE MOVIE. THIS WAS NOT VERY HELPFUL THANKS MOD 1 P.S. THIS IS IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE I'M VERY EXCITED!!”

Then there were two posts in quick succession, the first one was a new puzzle type! Morse code! And grandma taught me that, so I can tell you it says:

“I think we posted an address once but it was wrong and we got caught doing it. I didn’t like that day. This entire computer has safety settings on it so I can’t just ??? (this looks like a keysmash or something to me?) stop writing. Hold on, I hear something.”

And I would’ve thrown it directly in a translator, but as One acknowledges in their next post with a link to more binary, I had to translate by hand because:

“well! you'll never guess what desktops do to morse code! we're back at binary! anyway. we did post an address but everything went wrong, i don't like thinking about that entire week, the pain was unimaginable! more importantly, though, i've asked mod 3 and he s hold on i think i hear something.“

That post was immediately reblogged with more binary that just says:

“well that’s not good”

Which is horrific!! So I sent an ask, like, ayo homie what the fuck, and I got a response! The text itself is just a dismissal that anything’s wrong, but the bolded text spells out “footsteps” so that’s terrifying! Also Two apparently slept in the McDonald’s parking lot and One slept in a sleeping bag in the cellar.

They posted that this morning when I started working on this post, -- I’ve been here for like eight hours now I think, -- and so I replied expressing my distress that they were active again and One responded with backwards text, which when read normally, says:

“Did you think we were going to sleep forever? The show must go on!”

Death undertones, I dig it.

Anyway, @hotsinglelemonsinyourarea my beloved asked why they were watching @emerald-whale, and One hit back with binary that says:

“you don't think we're watching all of you? tell the lorekeeper to write this one down. sincerely, mod 1″

Which is fucking horrifying, but no worries One, I am writing it down!! I am making a whole ass fucking timeline!! Because I am but a humbled servant that kneels to whatever story you’re trying to tell here. :) Apparently. ::) I hate it here.

Anyway, an anon sent in an ask that is one of the funniest interactions ever:

“ooohhh pizza mozarella pizza mozarella rella rella oohh“

“alright no more lore for you guys until you learn how to behave”

And then Two felt like pitching in as well:

Now keep in mind all of this was posted very fast and I was writing this post, -- still am, whoops, -- so I sent this very stressed ask telling them to SLOW DOWN THE LORE PLEASE IM FUCKING PLEADING as well as asking each mod a question, and I got shot back more binary cuz they hate me but they did answer my questions so the conversation goes:

Me: “One, are you in the same room as Three? What about Two?” One: “yes. no. i miss 2 dearly.” Me: “Two, who did you bite to get out? Two: “the ghuy from the movee !!!! i bit him and sstole hias phone!!!!!! his passw ord was "willwoodsux" :-)” Me: “Three, how long has it been since you’ve consumed any media that isn’t WW related?” Three: “It’s only been a year since I entered the cellar, so not that long ago :-) Around July you're welcome, lorekeeper sincerely, the three mods

So to clarify what and why I was asking:

1. My theory about One and Three being together while Two is separate is confirmed, yay me! Kinda trivial but I want to understand what’s going on in the cellar, so that stuff makes sense in context.

2. I haven’t seen the Will Wood movie, so this means nothing to me! Lucky for me, I have a friend, @indubitablyswag, who has seen it, so I asked them!

They have no fucking clue either!! So I will probably be renting that movie tonight, because this lore is worth money to me now, apparently, -- and I’ve been meaning to see it anyways.

3. Three made a comment about having never seen Ratatouille, which Nigel thought tied into my theory that non-WW things weren’t allowed in the cellar. I think this confirms that, but it actually doesn’t excuse Three from not knowing Ratatouille because it came out much longer than a year ago. (Unless this ARG takes place in a different year? I’ll have to ask about that.)

Then there’s another pizza mozzarella whatever ask, but it’s okay cuz Two fucking murders them.

I got my numbers screwed up and hurt One’s feelings, (IF YOU’RE READING THIS, ONE, IM SORRY, I MEANT THREE!!) something???? hurts, and I have wasted a solid nineish hours of my existence on this.

Then One gave me a whole ass heart attack by asking my favorite flavor of ice cream. (Theirs is birthday cake, apparently.)

I’m posting it before any of those fucks give me any more lore to add to this timeline because I’ve been here for like ten hours and I honestly just Can Not Keep Doing This, so I’ll be back with more theories later, -- especially after I’ve seen the movie.

In the meantime, au revoir, I’m gonna go have a stroke. I hope you guys are pleased with your lorekeeper. Cuz if you’re not then literally what has this been for? :::))

57 notes · View notes

unmaskedagain · 5 years

Text

Spider Vs Bird

I worked a long time on this fic. I really liked working on it though and I hope you enjoy it

Peter met Marinette when they were six-years-old. She had been sent to camp in New York. She had been scared to be so far away from home, and while fluent in English spoke with a heavy accent that made other kids look at her funny.

Peter had never been away from his parents for more than a few days, ever. He wasn’t happy. He was miserable in fact. Peter had been sitting alone behind a tree, having escaped canoeing, face hid in his knees. His wanted nothing more than to go home. He sniffled.

“Don’t cry,” A soft voice said next to him. He looked up and saw a pretty bluenette with big blue eyes and a kind smile on her face looking at him. She looked about his age. “It’s okay. Do you miss home too?”

Peter nodded, and tried to make it look like he was crying. The other boys could be really, really mean. “I want my pops and dad.”

“I miss my mama and papa too,” Marinette said. “I’m really far away from them.”

“Where are you from?” Peter ask curiously. He hadn’t met many people from different countries before and never a kid his own age.

Marinette played with her hair, “France. Where are you from?”

“New York City,” Peter smiled. “It’s far but not as far as Paris. Do you miss it?”

“Yep; a whole a lot,” Marinette opened the care package from her Mommy and Daddy. It just made her miss them so much more. Her grandma Gina went to this camp when she was small, and so did her dad, so they sent her there too. “Chocolate, Vanilla, or Strawberry.”

And just like any kid, Peter didn’t ask why she was asking. “I like vanilla.”

“Are you allergic to anything?”

“No.”

Marinette nodded and pulled out two cupcakes from her care package. It had been sent overnight. “Here you go, have one.” She handed him a big vanilla cupcake.

Peter’s eyes went wide and he gave her a toothy grin that showed he was missing one of his front tenth. “Thank!” He bite into it. “This is really good,” he said with his mouth full.

“My parents made them,” Marinette smiled then bit into her own chocolate cupcake. “They’re bakers!”

Peter blinked at her with wide-eyes, “That’s so cool! So they cake cookies and cake and like everything right? You must get to eat as much as you want. I wish my parents were bakers!”

Marinette just laughed. It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Steve and Tony would get letters from his son all about the new friend he made. And get a picture of their little boy with his arm around a blue-haired.

“Her name is Marinette,” Steve read the letter. “She’s French. Her parents are the best bakers in the world who send her weekly goodie packages. They have the coolest job ever!”

Tony blinked, “We’re superheroes.”

When they picked up Peter a month later from camp, he was ran up to him holding Marinette’s hand, “Dad, Pops; this is Marinette! She’s the best. She really smart and funny and cool. She’s my best friend ever! And-”

Tony laughed, “Easy there, squirt. Take a breath. Hi Miss Marinette.”

Marinette blushed but grinned big, “Hi, Mr. Stark, sir. Peter’s really nice. Like really nice. He even stopped a big kid from killing a poor little spider. He was really brave!”

Peter grinned, “You’re really brave. You’re the one who pushed him when he pushed me the ground. You even made him apologize. It was awesome.” He told his parents. “Can I got to Marinette’s? Please. I want to see her bakery. Pretty please.”

“Paris is a long ways away bud,” Steve teased. “You didn’t even want to leave for camp remember.”

“Not without your Ameri-bear,” Tony added with a chuckle. “You’ve been sleeping with that old teddy bear ever.”

They stopped laughing when they saw Peter giving them a wide-eyed look, his mouth dropped opened, with his face a bright red. Before they knew it, Peter was shoving them towards the car, “Be right back, Mari.”

Peter glared, “Don’t blow this for me.”

Tony snorted, “Blow what? Do you even know what they means?”

“Yes,” Peter huffed indignantly, though it was a lie. “Marinette’s really, really nice. And smart. And funny. She doesn’t think I’m weird. Or too smart or anything. And she’s so pretty. Like really, really pretty.”

Steve cooed, “Aww, you have a crush on Marinette.”

“NO!” Peter shouted. His face back to a bright shade of red.

Tony smirked, “So I shouldn’t send out the wedding invitations then?”

They were there for every milestone of Peter’s life; the day he was born, the day he crawled, his first word, his first steps, his first lab explosion, his first missing tooth, and his first day of school. Now they were baring witness to the first time Peter visibly looked to be contemplating murder. Unfortunately, it was at them.

“Mari’s parents are really cool,” Peter stated. “Just be cool like them.” Then he ran back to Marinette.

“I’m Tony Stark,” Tony said incredulously.

“I’m Captain America!” Steve said at the same time.

Still, they ended up meeting the rest of the Dupain-Cheng family, and found them delightful.

It was from that summer on that the Avengers got used to seeing Peter and Marinette running around the tower together. Peter also got used to be teased for his supposed crush on his best friend. Natasha ended up taking Marinette under wing and training her in combat and the art of spying.

However, it was only two years later, when the Avengers responded to an intruder alert and found Marinette standing over a hogtied Nick Fury, with a fierce look on her face and Peter looking proud, that Tony said two magical words:

“I ship it.”

Damian Wayne met Marinette when they were ten-years-old. Damian had only been living with his father for five years but still had trouble acting like a normal kid. The life of a league of shadows member was hard to break from; especially if it’s ingrained from a young age. He had been chastised more than a few times for leaving off on his own, especially in a place like Gotham.

When Alfred informed them that an old friend and business associate was coming to visit with her granddaughter, a girl Damian’s age; it was to no one’s surprise when his father took him aside and made him promise to be polite.

The woman Gina had showed up in the beginning of summer. She arrived on a motorcycle that had been so loud they heard as soon as she pulled up to the house. Alfred had answered the door with a chuckle.

“Penny!” The woman exclaimed and jumped at him with a hug. She had short silver, nearly white, hair and dressed mostly black and had a studded black leather jacket on and boots. “Ugh, still as boring as ever, I see,” Gina said once she pulled back from the hug.

“Gina,” Alfred smiled. “You haven’t change a bit.”

Gina just laughed, and turned her attention to Bruce, “Brucie; I heard you took my advice to go exploring the world. How’d you like it?”

Bruce smirked, “It was… educational.” He had known Gina since he was a boy, having spent a few summers with Tom, even gone to his and Sabine’s wedding. The woman hadn’t been to visit since Bruce adopted Tim and Cass. “You remember my boys?”

“Dick,” Gina said pulling the oldest Wayne boy into a tight hug. “You get more handsome every time I see. So sorry to hear you and Barbs broke up. I know some amazing girls I can introduce you to.”

Dick just laughed, “I’m fine flying solo for now.”

“Jason,” Gina said crossing her arms, with a raised eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you since I let you steal my last motorcycle.”

Jason smirked, “let me?” The only reason he’d happily come to the Manor was because Alfred told him Gina was on her way. She was the coolest lady he knew growing up.

“Oh please,” Gina waved him off. “You drove it to the Barnes and Nobel’s on 4th, and it sat there for like three hours. I have a tracker on my stuff, kid. I let you. Now give me a hug.” Jason laughed and hugged her.

The same went for Tim and Cass. Cass excitedly told Gina in Chinese all about her adventures in Hong Kong. Tim told her about his trip around the world. Then finally it was Damian’s turn.

Gina smiled softly at the youngest of Bruce’s kids, “And who’s this?”

Bruce put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “This is Damian.”

“Nice to meet you, Damian,” Gina said.

Damian nodded stiffly, “Pleasure.” He wore a black tailored dress pants and a high collard green turtle neck.

Gina rolled her eyes, “God, Bruce, he’s nearly as uptight as you were at his age.”

“I was not uptight,” Bruce defended, despite knowing he was bratty little shit when he was Damian’s age.

Alfred snorted but smiled, “And the young guest you brought with you.”

Gina grinned and held out her hand to her granddaughter who had stayed close to the motorcycle, “She’s a bit a shy.” She told them. “This is Marinette.”

“Hi!” Marinette waved shyly, blushing a bit.

The family cooed at the sight of the little blue-eyed, bluenette, in a baby blue shirt with a yellow happy face and dark jean short, with her hair in pigtails and big smile on her face. So innocent, so sweet. Bruce, of course, had been acquainted with Marinette. He had gone to the baby shower for her and stopped by the bakery whenever he was in Paris. The girl was the sweetest little thing.

When Damian and Marinette got sent off to play together, only Alfred, Gina, and Bruce thought it was a good idea. Damian didn’t know why he was being punished. And certainly there were more fitting punishment than spending time with some little kid.

He sent a cold glare at the bluenette, once they arrived in the entertainment room, “There are video games and movies over there,” Damian pointed to the TV. “Amuse yourself. Or perhaps you would prefer a coloring book and a teddy bear,” He said sarcastically.

Marinette crossed her arms, “First of all, I would love a coloring book, thank you very much. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He snorted. “And Bruce said we should play together; get to know each other. Or do you frequently disobey an order?” If Damian was a rebel, Marinette needed to know. Because there was a fine line between rebel and troublemaker.

Damian huffed, “Fine; let’s play a game then. How about… Mortal Kombat.” He sent her a cruel smirk. “Not the video game. Real life. It’s simple. We fight and the first person to die or cry,” He said with distaste. “Loses. Up for it?”

“What weapons do we get?” Marinette asked. Bucky and Natasha had taught her for the last four years on a variety of weapons. Though she knew it was only because of Steve’s doing that they hadn’t taught her how to use a gun yet. They even got a shield agent assigned to Paris to train her throughout the school year.

Damian raised an eyebrow, curious. He had expected her to run screaming from the room in sheer terror, crying to her grandmother. “What do you prefer?”

“Bo staff.”

“Same,” Damian said. “Let’s take this to the backyard.”

When Marinette yelled to her grandma that she and Damian were going to play in the backyard, Damian marveled that no one came out with questions filled with suspicious. Granted the first time Damian said he was going to go play in the backyard, he ended up in Watch Tower going over surveillance footage.

Marinette and Damian stood ten feet apart on the grassy field, each held a long black bo staff. It was quiet. Damian had set an alarm on his phone to begin the fight. Marinette set hers to play music.

When the loud beeping sounded and Carrie Underwood’s champion started playing, they charged at each other.

It was a mix of attacks and dodges. Their staffs met; each putting their full force behind it.

“It is not wise to meet a Wayne in Battle,” Damian growled at her.

Marinette rolled her eyes, “If all Waynes are as big of a jerk as you are, you must all be used to be called out to fight.”

Damian attacks. The two kids stand in one place, trading feints, thrusts and parries with lightning speed, almost impossible to follow. The youngest Wayne was reluctant to admit, even to himself, that Marinette had no trouble matching him. “You know what you're doing, I'll give you that.”

“Not too bad yourself,” Marinette nodded.

The two slow walked around the length of the imaginary circle. Until they were in the exact opposite of their initial positions.

“Your taste in music is terrible though,” Damian added on. Marinette let out an angry hiss like a cat and attacks,

Their duel continued. Their staff flash and ring. Suddenly, Damian swung his staff, partially letting go. Marinette seeing the staff free sailing, ducked quickly. Not seeing Damian catch it at the last second, and then send a kick flying at her chest. Her weapon flew out of her hand. Marinette crashes to the ground, and with a quick swing her legs, sweeps Damian’s feet from under him, losing his weapon in the process.

Marinette and Damian jumped up, right back in the fighting position. What happened next was a mix of punches and kicks, and headlocks. Until they found themselves once again across from each in their imaginary circle.

Marinette’s hair was a mess, pigtails having come lose. She was covered in welts and bruises from the staff. There was blood on her shirt and dripping her nose. Damian didn’t look any better. His well-groomed look was gone. His turtleneck had torn. His lip was busted. There was bruising around his neck from when Marinette had wrapped her legs around it and held him in a chokehold, like Natasha had taught her, until he managed to maneuver out of it.

Giggles burst from Marinette before she could stop them, “You look ridiculous,” She laughed.

“Shall I show you a mirror?” Damian said with a smirk. He chuckled.

They both shook their heads, looked at each other again, and they each fell over laughing. They only stopped when the sound of applause reached their ears.

Damian and Marinette looked up and saw the entire Wayne family and Gina watching them.

Alfred nodded approvingly, “I see she takes after you Gina.”

“That she does,” Gina grinned. “You’re grandson could give a young you a run for your money.”

“How long after you been there?” Marinette squeaked.

Bruce fought not to smile. “Just as the music started to play. We were going to invite you both in for ice cream.” He had been furious at first at his youngest child for deciding to spar with a civilian but the fury had faded as it became clear that Marinette could keep up with his son. There were times when he was sure one was trying to kill the other but they always held back; even if only just.

He looked at Gina, “It’s nice to see Damian getting along so well with someone.” He would regret those words soon enough. Very soon.

Damian and Marinette spent the next few days running after each other and trying to one up another in best surprise attacks. Bruce’s older kids took bets. Jason and Cass voted that Marinette would eventually win. Tim and Dick sided with Damian.

One day, after lunch, Damian commented on his field trip his class was taking, “The zoo,” he wrinkled his nose. “It’s barbaric. Animals trapped in cages while less human beings gawk in amusement. There’s a new wolf exhibit my teacher is dying to see. It’s all terrible.”

Marinette agreed. While she liked the zoo, she always thought the animals looked really sad. She took a sip from her juice box, “So let’s do something about it.”

That night, after midnight, the two kids climbed out of their windows, onto the roof, and quietly raced into the darkness. When they made it to the Zoo, they wasted no time in disabling the security cameras and breaking in the wolf exhibit. Damian, dressed in his the Robin costume he wasn’t supposed to have yet, managed to calm the wolf down as Marinette, dressed in mostly black with a red mask on, stole a truck (something she learned from Clint.) By the time security managed to get the cameras working again the kids and wolf were gone. All without a trace.

The kids, and wolf, ditched the truck about a mile from the manor and raced home. They snuck back in through the tunnels of the Batcave that let the batmobile move securely without anyone seeing it.

However, when they finally got to the Batcave, they were met with the exasperated looks of Batman and Alfred and the highly amused looks of Gina, Nightwing, Redhood, Blackbat, and Robin.

Damian nodded slowly, not even bothering to try to hide the giant wolf, “Father, I decided that Marinette should stay for summer. She is much more pleasant than I originally thought. And don’t worry, Marinette figured out you were batman her third day here. She even found the cave all on her own.”

Batman narrowed his eyes. He took of his cowl. He had been alerted that his son and Marinette were missing from their rooms just seconds after he was alerted about a break in at the zoo. He knew his son well. And it didn’t take a genius to be two and two together. “Grounded! One week.” He looked at Gina who nodded in agreement, though the smile was still on her face.

The kids huffed but nodded.

“And wolf is going back!” That was met with loud protests.

Marinette stayed at the Wayne Manor for another month. Not long after the grounding was over, Damian came into the living room where his father and siblings were and informed his father that he was leaving, “Alfred is taking Marinette and I to the movies. There is a showing of the new Little Mermaid movie she desires to see.”

Bruce closed the book he was reading, “Very well. I’ll tag along. We can make a family day out of it.” Dick was the first to agree followed shortly by the others, who wanted to see the havoc Marinette and Damian tended to create.

Damian visibly froze, “No, father.” He stated firmly. “I had… hoped it would be just Marinette and I. We can be trusted, I assure you.”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” Bruce started but Jason interrupted him.

“No! Way!” Jason yelled, his eyes wide with a sudden realization, and a grin his face. “You like her.”

It was the entire room’s turn to freeze. All eyes on Damian who had blush slowly creeping onto his face. “Marinette has proven herself to be a strong and intelligent ally. She is worthy of my regard.”

Jason shook his head, “No. You like her, like her.”

“I have come to value her friendship highly,” Damian said but the deepening redness of his face told a different story. He went to elementary school, he knew what like-like meant.

Dick cooed, “Baby bird has a crush.”

“I do not!” Damian hissed.

Cass snickered, “It is alright. Marinette is quite lovely.”

Tim smirked, “And she has rather nice green eyes. A bit dull though.”

“Blue!” Damian corrected quickly. “She has marvelous blue eyes. They are not dull. They shine brighter than the sun. They sparkle when she laughs, you dolt.”

Silence filled the room. Damian looked horrified at his words. Bruce looked at his young son with raise eyebrows and a small smile on his face.

“I am leaving now, father,” Damian stated. “I will return as soon as the movie ends provided we do not stop for frozen yogurt. Good day.” And then he swiftly left the room, leaving his siblings snickering in his wake.

Bruce opened back up his book, “I ship it.”

The declaration caused the room to fill with shouts.

Marinette would spend half of every summer for the next few years in Gotham; training with Damian under the guidance of Batman himself. Eventually going onto meet the rest of the Justice League. She and Damian used the zeta beams to hang out as much as possible.

The other half of her summers, Marinette spent in New York City at Stark Tower with Peter and the rest of the avengers. Learning under the tutelage of The Black Widow and The Winter Soldier, two out of four of Peter’s godparents (the others being Rhodey and Pepper of course), while Peter learned under his parents.

Damian officially became Robin at 12. Peter became Spider-man at fourteen. And Marinette became Ladybug at 13. It was to no one’s surprise the two boys were the first ones she told about being a superhero. And it was not to her surprise when they couldn’t keep it from their families for long.

“Aww, look you two match,” Tony said upon seeing Marinette transform. “Couples costumes.” The genius would later admit he had that mouth webbing coming. He still ship Peter/Marinette so hard.

Three weeks later, Bruce had said, “A little bright, isn’t it?”

“Do I even need to mention the first Robin costume?” Marinette snapped back. Though she was secretly glad that as soon as she saw the original Ladybug costume she had Tikki teach her out to change it. Gone was skintight onesie. Now she dressed in a more armored uniform. That was mostly black with bright red polka dots everywhere.

Bruce smirked. He was proud of the girl who had become his son’s closest friend, and obvious crush. He really hoped his son would ask out Marinette soon.

Then the Avengers and Justice League found out. Marinette found herself defending Paris with a league member or an Avenger for like six months before she finally told them where to shove it. She would call them if she needed them. Though she didn’t mind Robin or Spiderman dropping into help every now and then when their secret identities were in town.

Chat, who had grown become a brother to Marinette once their identities had been revealed to each other, had fanboy’d so hard the first time Robin came to help. And then again when Spiderman appeared, after catching Ladybug in a web after she’d been knocked from the top of the Eiffel tower. Then Marinette had to reveal that she knew the Avengers and the Justice league.

It took Adrien five seconds with Peter Stark-Rogers to know he had a crush on Marinette. And he cheerfully told Peter, “I’ve got the god of destruction in my pocket. I’ll feed you to him if you hurt her.”

It took Adrien three days to realize Damian Wayne liked Marinette. And he braced himself, held his ground, and told the teen, “You like Marinette. She’s my sister. I just want you to remember: Cats eat birds.”

He thought it was really menacing until Damian sprayed him the face with a water bottle, “Bad kitty.”

Adrien hissed.

As good as Marinette’s superhero life was going, so was her fashion career. MDC was slowly become well known high-class designer and household name thanks to Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Natasha, and even Lex Luther wearing her clothes.

her normal life had gone in the opposite direction.

Lila had come to class and lied her way to the top; she went on and on about all the celebrities she knew. She promised all the students great chances and opportunities. Only a few didn’t eat it all up. Marinette, Chloe, Nathaniel, and Adrien called out her lies relentlessly. This caused the class to think of them as jealous bullies and had them ostracized to the back at Lila’s subtle behest. Unfortunately for Lila, Adrien had been quick to join them. And nothing she, or anyone else in class, could say to convince the blond boy otherwise.

Marinette had thought of most of the students as friends but hadn’t been too surprised when they turned against her. She had never been to close to any of apart from the ones who joined her in back. For a while she had considered that maybe Alya would become her best friend but decided against it once she learned just what type of journalist she was. The glasses-wearing girl was always out for the next big scoop and didn’t seem to care how she got it; even if it meant putting herself in danger.

Alya had also been adamant for a long time that Ladybug and Chat Noir liked each other romantically despite both heroes denying it repeatedly. She only stopped when Chat Noir told Alya that Ladybug was his sister.

When Lila came, like the rest of the class, Alya ate up her stories and promises of a future at famous newspapers like the Daily Planet or the Gotham Gazette.

And when Marinette claimed Lila was lying, Alya was the first to accuse Marinette of being jealous. The girl never seemed to get the message that Marinette and Adrien didn’t like each other that way and only thought of each as siblings at best and best friends at worst. Alya didn’t listen or care. Whenever Lila gave a tear-filled eyes saying that Marinette was being oh so mean to her, Alya was the first to defend her new bestie. The rest of the class following suit.

It didn’t take long for Marinette to be voted out of being class president. This made Fearsome four, as Nathanial had nicknamed them after he and Chloe were given permanent spots as heroes, snickered as Marinette had pulled several string to for the annual class trip; so much for the class staying at Stark Tower with the Avengers or visiting Gotham and staying in luxury hotels. Oh well.

Once she wasn’t class president, all the little things that Marinette had done in addition to the positon had stopped as well. She stopped planning dances, fundraisers, and birthday parties (mostly because she was never invited to go to anyone’s in classes anymore.) No more free sweets from the bakery for anyone but her three friends. No free commissions. No babysitting. No banner designs. Nothing. Squat. Zero.

This of course caused anger from the other students in class as they had gotten used to all the free Marinette provided and tasks she did.

Alya huffed, “You’re just getting back us because we’re not your friends anymore.”

To which Marinette replied coldly, “Your point being?”

It was suffice to say when Marinette fifteenth birthday rolled around and Marinette’s mom forced her to give invitations to the entire class, the students were quick to rip up the invitations in front of her face.

Lila smiled, “Sorry, Marinette. Everyone’s throwing a party for me that day. No one can come.”

“Thank god,” Marinette said to their shock because it was obvious the girl was sincerely relieved. “My mom forced me to invite you, and I had no idea how to politely tell you I didn’t really want you to come.”

On the day of Marinette’s birthday, Saturday, while the class was enjoying their own party, Marinette just finished setting up a mock carnival with rides, games, and concession booths, and an area for bands to play. Adrien had even gotten his dad, Nathalie, and Gorilla to come on the threat of shaving his head bald.

Then Marinette’s guests started to arrive. Marinette’s schoolmates, the ones she had started to befriend after being made an outcast in class arrived first; the drama club, the art club, the fashion club, cooking club, and the world Travelers’ club had turned out be made up of some great people.

Adrien, Chloe, and Nathaniel stayed close to Marinette side; each wearing an earpiece.

Jagged Stone in all his rock and roll glory arrived first. Clara Nightingale practically danced her way in. Lois and Clark and the rest of the Kents were a bit more subdued. Though Cat, Nadja, and Lois immediately located rivals and the three could be found gossiping and sharing stories with each other. The same could be said when Style Queen Audrey, Wilhelmina Slater, Gabriel Agreste, and Miranda Priestly. Then it was just a slew of people; from friendly neighbors Marinette grew up with to famous models and actors and chefs.

She immediately greeted Damian with a hug, and thanked him for the perfectly wrapped green present. A second later, Marinette did the same to Peter, and thanked him for the blue present.

The two boys eyed each other.

Marinette looked confused, “Damian I told you about Peter, right? I talked about him all the time. And the same for Damian, Peter.”

“You didn’t mention he was Peter Stark,” Damian stated.

“Peter Stark-Rogers,” Peter corrected. “And you’re Damian Wayne.”

And Marinette finally realized she had forgotten to do one major thing; tell the Avengers and the Justice League that Marinette worked with both of them. Or at the very least Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne who looked ready to bring out the big guns.

Both superhero teams were very much aware of the others superhero identities as the Avengers never hid theirs and Tony hacked into the Watch Tower.

Lex Luther and Oliver Queen, the third and fourth richest men in the world, looked highly amused. While Gabriel looked like Christmas had come early. He had no idea Miss Dupain. He knew allowing Adrien to befriend the girl was smart idea.

The other heroes subtly watched the two for any signs that a fight might break out. Bruce had never forgiven Tony for hacking into the watchtower and uncovering Batman identity.

“Brucie,” Tony grinned and held out his hand. “You’re looking great today. No idea you’d be here. Or that you knew Marinette.”

Bruce shook his hand a bit too firmly, “Her grandmother is an old family friend. I was at her parents’ wedding. I was at their baby shower. I’ve known Marinette for years.”

“We met Marinette when she was five,” Tony said. “She and Peter met at camp. Aren’t they adorable together,” He nodded to the two.

Bruce forced a grin on his face, “Not as cute as she and Damian. They’ve been nearly inseparable since they were ten. Wouldn’t be surprised if hear wedding bells in the future.”

“Of course you will,” Tony laughed. “I’m sure Marinette will invite to her and Peter’s wedding.”

The two glared at each other.

Their significant others just shook their heads. Selena, aka Catwoman, looked amused. While Steve looked so done with this world.

“As one of Peter’s godfather’s,” Bucky said. “Should I be offering to fight Damian’s godfather?” He joked.

Clark glared, his eyes turning a bit red, “Anytime you want.”

Rhodey slapped Bucky on the back, “That’s all you man.” He was not fighting Superman over a case of puppy love.

Diana looked a bit confused, “Should I engage in mortal combat with Peter’s godmother then?”

Pepper crossed her arms, feeling last of the extremis still pumping through her blood.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, “It’s not required. But I wouldn’t mind a friendly spar or two.”

“You are the Black Widow, yes?” Diana asked. “A most excellent fight it will be then.”

“Where is Shazaam?” Thor’s voice thundered. “I wish for a fight as well.”

Billy Batson had never been so happy that he wasn’t in his superhero form before. Quietly, he made his way to the Ferris wheel. He was going to avoid the god of thunder for as long as he possibly could.

The magic users found each and decided to compare their abilities. It didn’t go well. Clint got turned into a frog… again.

When Fury arrived he eyed the superheroes that were there; avengers, justice league, and the ones (dare devil, Jessica Jones, the Xmen) who were mostly unaffiliated. And briefly wondered if the kid who had hogtied him was planning world domination. He wouldn’t doubt it.

The rest of the part went really well. Chloe, Adrien, and Nathaniel watched the superheroes in attendance like hawks. And were forced to break up more than one fight, or arm wrestling match that got out of hand. It ended up trending on social media, as various celebrities had posted pictures of themselves at the party. And then suddenly the world was asking wanted to know just Who Marinette Dupain-Cheng was. Marinette took that moment to announce that she was MDC. Which blew up the story even more.

The only downside was that Peter and Damian seemed to have entered into a competition of some sort, the same with their fathers.

At the end of the party, when sayings the goodbyes, Marinette swore she distinctly heard, Tony hiss, “Spiderbug forever!”

“Daminette!” Bruce snarled back.

And she had vocally asked why Bucky was giving Superman wary glances but no one would tell her. Adults were weird.

Monday came and the entire school, and all of Paris was buzzing about Marinette’s party. When she got to class, she was met with unhappy faces of her ex-friends.

“They wouldn’t let us inside,” Alya was quick to complain the moment the bluenette stepped through the door.

“We even told them we knew you,” Nino frowned. “The Bouncers didn’t believe we were invited.”

Marinette shrugged as she went to her seat between Adrien and Chloe, “its invitation only. What happened to your invitations?”

All the students frowned. They had been told the same thing at the door. And had been miserable when they remembered they destroyed the invites. Even Lila had nearly shed real tears when she saw just who she had missed meeting for real.

Alya crossed her arms, “We tried calling you. But you changed your number! How could you not tell your bestie you changed your number? When did you change your number?”

“When I realized you still had it.” It was a cold response. One that Damien would’ve been proud of. “And I’m not your bestie. We’re not friends, remember? Why did you even try to come to my party, you were too busy last I checked.”

“That’s before we saw how awesome your party was!” Kim said honestly. “Dude who knew you knew so many celebrities.”

“Prince Ali was there!” Rose said excitedly. “I really wanted to see him.”

“Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Lex Luther,” Max whined. “I was so close but so far.”

That was pretty much how the rest of the morning went, with a side of her ex-friends trying to question Marinette about being MDC and all the celebrities she knew. Marinette didn’t answer a single question.

Just before the lunch bell rang, there was a knock on the door, “Hello, I’m here to pick up Marinette for lunch,” Damian Wayne smiled charmingly as he walked in. “My father’s waiting.”

The class gasped. Lila’s mouth dropped.

A second later Peter Stark-Rogers walked in the classroom, “Marinette, you want to go to lunch,” He said excitedly. “Dad’s waiting outside.”

Again the class’s mouth dropped.

Outside of the school, Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark glared at each other.

Marinette looked confusedly at her friends, “Sorry, I didn’t know you guys wanted to go to lunch. Or that you were still in town.” She told them. “It’s okay, though.” She said brightly. “You can join me and Roy.”

As if on cue, Roy Queen walked into the classroom, a big smile on his smile, “Hey Mari, you read-Oh shit!” He said upon seeing Robin and Spiderman. The two heroes sent the Red Arrow twin glares.

Two minutes later both Tony and Bruce’s phones pinged. They opened it and read the texts they got from their sons.

They looked up, and met each other eyes. “We kill Oliver together,” Tony offered.

“Agreed.”

The Green Arrow watched through binoculars from a safe distance, “Long Live Roynette!”

#ml fic #ml salt #daminette #damian wayne #marinette dupen chang #class salt #alya salt #the avengers #justice league

4K notes · View notes