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scoonsalicious · 1 year ago

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Unwanted: Chapter 8, Unexpected - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, bit 'o' dirty talk, allusions to sexual situations, Tony being Tony.

Word Count: 1.9k

Previously On...: Tony invented an interesting game for the team to play while you and Bucky were otherwise... occupied, and the team voted on whether or not to approve Jade's probationary term. To your surprise, Bucky voted against it, though it didn't matter, as you were outvoted, but you were grateful for his support.

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 8! I know Bucky said some shitty stuff in Ch. 7, Pt. 1, but I'd like to clarify that none of what was said was out of malice or lack of care for Pocket. He just truly wasn't thinking about how the things he said would make her feel. Is it callous? Absolutely. Is it unforgivable? I don't necessarily think so. We all have moments where we simply speak without thought. It's not his finest moment in the fic, but it's also not going to be his worst.

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch

The next few weeks were some of the best of your life. True to his word, Bucky was romancing the absolute shit out of you. It seemed like nearly every night, he was whisking you out for another romantic dinner, or to this hole-in-the-wall jazz club he found so he could finally take you dancing ("the proper way, not this humping-while-standing-up-thing you kids do nowadays"). He brought fresh flowers to both your suite and your office once a week like clockwork, and the sex-- well, there were some mornings you couldn't even walk properly. It was perfect. He was perfect.

Together, you existed in your own little bubble, a new level of happiness unlocked in both of you that neither one ever expected to achieve.

The day of Jade's move-in to the Tower arrived, and you would have completely forgotten all about it if Tony hadn't mentioned it to you when you passed him in the hall on your way to meet Bucky in the common room for lunch. The reminder didn't weigh you down like you had expected it to. While she was unpleasant, and you didn't expect to become chums with her anytime soon, that burning rage you'd felt for her when she'd flirted with Bucky had subsided. Knowing how he felt about you had worn your jealousy down to non-existent.

You entered the common room, spotting Bucky kneeling in front of the coffee table, his back to you, as he took the lunches he'd ordered for you out of their takeout carriers and arranging them on the surface.

Feeling playful, you decided to sneak up on him, covering his eyes with your hands when you finally reached him.

"You know I heard you coming a mile away, doll," he chuckled, reaching around to pull you into a kiss. "Could smell you, too."

"Oh, I--" You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you sank next to him on the floor. Just thinking about Bucky was enough to get you aroused most days, but for it to be enough for him to smell--

"Relax, ya pervert; I meant your perfume," Bucky laughed, passing you a bottle of iced tea from the take out bag. You playfully swatted at him.

"You're awful," you admonished with a grin.

"Yet, you love me," he shot back, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

"The world is full of mysteries," you teased. You started opening up the container of Gaeng Daeng Bucky had ordered from your favorite Thai place. The portions were so large, you'd only ever be able to eat half of it, but that was just fine; your super soldier boyfriend would make sure none of it went to waste.

"I do love that lilac perfume on you," Bucky mused as he dug into his own plate of Pad Krapow Moo Saap. "Mixes so nice with the scent of your pussy."

You choked on a bite of your curry as Bucky broke into a fit of laughter. Handing you your bottle of tea, Bucky gently rubbed your back as he tried to reel himself in. "I'm sorry, doll. Drink this. Don't go choking to death on me, now."

When you were finally able to get your breathing back under control, you shot him a look.

"What?" he said, face the picture of innocence as he held up his hands in surrender. "'s not my fault you have the prettiest pussy I've ever laid my tongue on."

For the sake of propriety, you wanted to be mad at, or at least a little annoyed by him. But, Lord, if his words didn't do things to you. So, instead, you grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him toward you in a bruising kiss. His hands quickly guided your body down, until you were lying on the floor and he was resting on top of you, your Thai food temporarily abandoned as you gave in to one another.

Bucky had just begun pawing at your clothes when you both froze at the sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat in the doorway.

"Common Room's closed for maintenance. Come back later," Bucky called over his shoulder without even looking. You couldn't help but laugh as he resumed kissing you. The man had no shame and you were kinda into it.

"Buck." The single word, low and harsh from Steve left you both frozen in place. In unison, you picked your heads up and looked to the door. Standing in the archway were three individuals-- one looking at you with barely disguised amusement, one with undisguised rage, and one who was trying very hard not to look at you at all.

"I hope you're not fraternizing on company time, Pocket," Tony said with a grin. Surprisingly, he had warmed up to the idea of you and Bucky being together (especially after you had threatened to "take my talents somewhere where my personal life won't be scrutinized and judged." "You wouldn't!" he'd gasped. "I wouldn't want to," you'd replied. "Don't let that be my only remaining option." It had been an empty threat; you both knew it, but it had been enough to get him on board).

The same couldn't be said for the man who refused to look at you, though. Since you and Bucky had officially begun dating, Steve had been ignoring you like you had cooties and he was unvaccinated, and you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why. You'd brought your concern up to Bucky one evening, sure he'd assuage your anxiety, but he just told you to give the other man time to sort himself, leaving you with more questions. Did Steve hate you now because he thought you'd stolen his best friend from him? Or were those ‘Stucky’ shippers on Tumblr onto something?

"Like you're one to talk, Boss," you sassed back to Tony as you and Bucky extricated yourselves from your compromising position and stood up. Brushing down your pants, you turned to Bucky. "Can't even begin to tell you how many girls I've walked in on this guy with in the office before Pep came into the picture. Scarred me for life."

Tony had a faux-sappy look on his face and let loose a couple of fake sniffles as he clutched his hands to his heart. "Office dalliances of her very own. My little girl is all grown up. There is nothing more for me to teach you, precious Padawan." His hands moved to wipe away at a fake tear.

"Tony," Steve warned with a raised brow.

Tony blanched, as though just remembering his purpose for being in the common room. "Oh, yeah. Um, very unprofessional, you two. I'm shocked. Just scandalized. This is a place of business, blah blah blah and all that. Anyway, you remember Jade Carthage, our newest Probationary Avenger."

Ah, the third individual who was glaring at you with unadulterated hatred in her eyes.

"Vixen, nice to see you again. Welcome to the team." Bucky extended his hand for Jade to shake, and you watched her gaze soften and melt under his as she took his hand.

"Such a pleasure to see you again, Sergeant Barnes," she cooed. When Bucky released her hand, she turned to you, a cold, wicked smile that cut like a knife across her face.

"I don't think we've met," she said, extending her hand to you. "I'm Jade Carthage, but please, call me 'Vixen.'"

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)," you said, with a shrug, as if completely nonplussed that she claimed not to know you. “My friends call me ‘Pocket,’ but Ms. (Y/L/N) should suffice.'" You took her hand to shake it. "CTO of Stark Industries, head of Innovation and Technology for the Avengers’ Initiative. Bucky's girlfriend." Jade's grip around your hand tightened, her super soldier strength making it feel as though she were crushing your very bones, but you held on, not letting a single ounce of pain show on your face. You'd dealt with worse.

When you didn't back down, Jade let your hand go. You flexed your fingers, relishing in the return of blood flow to your appendages.

"Buck," Steve said, and you were kind of hoping for more than just a single syllable out of him this time, "we're putting Jade next door to you. Mind showing her where to go? We've already had her stuff moved in. Tony and I just need to finalize some paperwork with her and we'll have her back down."

Sensing your body tense up at Steve's request, Bucky placed a reassuring hand at the small of your back. "Well, I'm in Pocket's room most nights now, anyway." He looked down at you, offering a soft smile that you returned. "But since she's just across the hall, yeah. We can walk you down, Jade. That is," he added, his smile turning a little naughty, "if I can convince my girl here to take the afternoon off and indulge me with a bit of her time." His arm moved from your back up to around your shoulders, and he pulled you into him.

"Well," you hemmed, as though not already completely convinced that would be an absolutely wonderful idea, "I have to check with my boss first. Hey, Tony?" He pursed his lips at you, clearly not pleased that you wanted to slack off. "Can I take the afternoon off?" He opened his mouth, most likely to deny you, but you cut him off "Oh, wait-- that's right. I don't actually report to you anymore." You turned back to Bucky. "We're good to go, baby." You winked and blew Tony a kiss. You both knew you had so much unused vacation time stacked up, you could not show up to work for a year and you'd barely tap into it.

"Great," Bucky said with a smile. "We'll finish our lunch and you can meet us back here when you're done finalizing your paperwork, and we'll show you your new digs."

Steve nodded and grunted his consent, while Jade just glared at you.

"Perfect," said Tony with a clap of his hands. Before turning to leave, he looked back at you and Bucky with a conspiratorial nod. "Just make sure to finish off your lunch and not each other, got it? I'm not due to have this carpet shampooed for another couple of weeks, and they charge extra for dealing with bodily fluids."

"Oh, gross, Tony," you moaned, while they walked off, Tony laughing to himself.

Once they were gone and you and Bucky had settled back around the coffee table to eat your now cooling Thai, you leaned in and kissed him. "Thank you," you said when you'd pulled away.

"For what?" he asked, breath a little uneven from the kiss.

"For being amazing and handling that entire thing perfectly," you told him, putting a hand on his knee.

He smiled at you, his blue eyes like crystals. "I told you, sweetheart, gonna be the best goddamned boyfriend you ever had, and that means making sure I'm not putting myself in a situation with her" he nodded his head toward the now empty doorway, "that makes you uncomfortable. Besides, it was really immature of her to pretend she didn't know who you were. I'm not going to spend alone time with someone who disrespects my girl like that."

You brought your hand up to stroke his jaw. "Have I told you how much I fucking love you?"

"Yeah," said Bucky, smiling at you through a big bite of his food, "but you might have to repeat yourself a lot. I am over a hundred, you know. My hearing's not what it used to be."

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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paranormalsaga · 7 months ago

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Mastermind (Chapter 5: The Paratroopers)

“Use your powers,” the distorted voice rang through a speaker at the other end of the cold metal table.

As far as Nagode could tell, he was in an empty observation room. He’d been waiting here in silence for at least two hours and struggled to maintain a comfortable position in his chair. There was a mirror to his left, probably oneway. The only thing in front of him was a retractable pen.

The building he’d walked through to get here was immaculately clean; the brutalist architecture enhanced the bureaucratic quality of the atmosphere. Hardly anything decorated the concrete walls of the hallways they entered; the floors were covered in black carpet with warm lights shining above. Nagode hadn’t been able to see the building’s exterior before he’d entered it, but he could still tell it was massive.

On the ride to this place, the man with multiple minds questioned him extensively about everything that happened to him within the last 48 hours. Nagode cooperated even though they’d kept a hood over his head for the entire journey. Intrigue motivated him more than anything. Nagode was curious to see what the endgame was now that someone else knew about his telepathy and telekinesis. Would they help?

Nagode looked down at the pen, then recalled how he’d felt the previous night when he put objects into motion with his mind. His hands hovered over both ends of the pen and it reacted to his thoughts. It floated towards him. As the pen approached his fingertips, Nagode could feel it without touching it. With some concentration, he telekinetically unscrewed the pen, put it back together, and returned it to the table.

“Lift your chair,” the distorted voice instructed.

The chair rose with the wave of Nagode’s hand until it touched the ceiling.

“Okay look,” Nagode said, eyeing the mirror. “I’m cooperating, but it would be helpful if you explained who you are and what you want.”

Someone unlocked the door to the observation room and it swung open soon afterward.

An older gentleman stepped into the room. He was handsome and dressed in a sleek black suit perfectly tailored to fit his frame. He resembled the man who’d knocked on Nagode’s door and brought him here. Perhaps this was his father?

Unsurprisingly, Nagode’s telepathy didn’t work on him.

“Good—” he checked his smartwatch. “Morning, technically. I’m Liu Chiang, Director of the Department of Paranormal Activity, or ‘DPA’ for short.”

Something was compelling about his confidence, he stretched out a hand and Nagode took it.

“We’re one of the United Nations’ largest global peacekeeping operations, but most people don’t know we exist. You just became one of the privileged few who do–”

Director Liu paused momentarily, listening to his earpiece, then continued.

“We're an intergovernmental organization dedicated to the scientific study of psychic energy. We have eyes everywhere monitoring the world for all phenomena that defy the laws of nature as we understand them. There's more of it than you'd expect.”

The director let out an exasperated sigh, removing his earpiece entirely.

“While our technology is decades ahead of what's available to the general public, we're in no position to fight all the dangerous paranormal entities we detect. The best we can do is make ourselves aware of these threats so that at least some can survive. That’s where people like you come in.”

“Me?” Nagode asked.

“Yes,” Director Liu responded. “There are others like you, people with extraordinary abilities, but none possess the power you do. If you train that power and get disciplined with it, you’ll be a game changer. We need you, Nagode.”

“Do you hear yourself? This is insane. I’m nobody. I might be able to do things that defy the laws of physics, but that doesn’t make me some superhero. I can’t protect anyone. I can’t even protect myself.”

“I disagree. I think you have potential, and I have a good reason for you to believe it too.”

“What’s that?” Nagode asked, crossing his arms.

Director Liu opened a manila folder and handed him a check and some paperwork. Nagode gawked at the numbers in front of him.

“So when do I start?”

“You already have. We just need to determine the true extent of your telekinesis and telepathy, then I’ll introduce you to the rest of the Paratroopers and get you up to speed on your first assignment.”

“Paratroopers?”

“Yes, it’s the name for our special operations unit. The Paratroopers are humanity’s first line of defense against paranormal threats. Each Paratrooper is a paranormal entity with a powerful gift, they’re our planet’s best hope of protection.

“As I was saying, your first assignment is Dante Esposito, a.k.a. Overkill. He’s the most powerful paranormal entity in the world, and we need your help to take him down.”

The reality of the situation began to sink in. All the money in the world wouldn’t matter if he died before he could spend it.

“This is insane, it doesn’t make any sense… I think you’re making a mistake by recruiting me, I appreciate your offer and I almost feel stupid for even thinking about turning it down, but the money comes at a price—”

“Look, as much as I’d love to sit here all day, I have other things to do. I know you don’t have any other options. How many more years of the Nullifier do you think you can take? What were you doing with your life before we came into the picture? Where were you going?”

Nowhere, Nagode thought. Director Liu was right, he didn’t have any serious alternatives to being a Paratrooper, but his name and “first line of defense” did not belong in the same sentence.

Yet the idea of doing this ignited curiosity in Nagode that he hadn’t experienced since he discovered his love for reading as a child. Joining the Paratroopers required learning, growing, and getting better, things Nagode had been slowly giving up on. Ironically, this life-threatening position looked like it was also his ultimate lifeline.

“I’ll have to call my boss and tell him I’m quitting.”

“Of course.”

“And my lease still isn’t up yet.”

“So break it. Look, nothing out there is as important as what goes on in here.”

Nagode nodded his head in resolution.

“I’m in.”

“Glad to hear it, kid.”

…

Battalion, Gadget, and Blindspot watched Nagode from the other side of the glass as he stood in a large, empty room; an SUV stood several feet away from him. He lifted himself and the car with his mind, then slammed it to the ground with great force, sending debris flying in all directions.

“So does that mean he took your spot as the most powerful person on the team?” Gadget asked.

“Shut up,” Battalion answered.

“I’m serious though, his abilities are fascinating. Telepathic communication will give us a significant advantage, though it’s interesting that he can’t read the minds of those who know he’s doing it. I wonder what that’s about.”

“What’s your take, Blindspot?” Battalion asked.

“Gadget’s right, his telepathy will allow us to gather information that even I can’t, but his telekinetic abilities… It will take a lot of work to get him combat-ready,” she said. “But it won’t be impossible. If we do things right, he’ll become deadly.”

“I don’t like how you smiled when you said that,” Gadget noted, half-joking.

Liu brought a white rabbit into the testing room. Nagode held his hand out toward it, standing there for a moment. Nothing happened. His attempts at manipulating liquids, gases, and intermediate states of matter were equally unsuccessful. Liu left Nagode and joined the others.

“Interesting,” Gadget said, taking notes.

“What do you think?” Liu asked him.

“It’s clear his telekinetic abilities operate like a muscle. He psychically generates kinetic energy, but if doing so causes too much strain, he fails. The greater the size and volume of the object he controls, the less easily he can control it. And some objects are too light or small for him to reliably access. He also seems to have an easier time controlling objects consecutively rather than simultaneously. I think he can’t manipulate organic lifeforms because they already possess so much psychic energy.”

“Do you think he’s strong enough to take down Overkill?”

“Yes, but it’s going to take time.” Gadget said.

“Time is a luxury we can’t afford,” a second clone of Battalion retorted.

Liu nodded.

“You’re right, but he’s our best shot, and all of you combined can kick Overkill’s ass.”

Liu walked out to induct Nagode into the Paratroopers.

Next Chapter

Last Chapter

#paranormal saga #original fiction #original story #original character #superheroes #science fiction #fantasy #mastermind #battalion #gadget #blindspot #capepunk #writeblr #Spotify

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beevean · 1 year ago

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At least in the games, even when the Belmonts started getting sidelined in favor of new protagonists I never got the feeling that the devs had a grudge against them in the first place

Leon and Juste got to be the protagonists of their own games

PoR and OoE treated the Belmonts' absence as a big deal and in the former even the memory of Richter can kick your ass

Julius is the strongest boss of Aria

The only games where the Belmonts felt disrespected were CoD and DoS, and even then you can at least tell it was just an excuse to allow each game's protagonist to face the final boss, especially in DoS where even Alucard was swatted away by Dimitrii of all people so it can't be said that the games always treated Alucard with favoritism

I wouldn't say Trevor was disrespected in CoD, just severely underutilized. He is appropriately hyped as the Legendary Belmont and he's shown to be quite formidable compared to Hector, even during his second boss fight. I don't know what was his deal with sending Hector to the Infinite Corridor without telling him about Dullahan though. something something curse scrambled his thoughts. or something something crush doing the same lmao.

I think the main difference between these games and the shows is that yes, the Belmonts may get sidelined to make room for the new protagonists, but at least they got shit done before.

Yes, Richter was too weakened to join Alucard in the Reverse Castle, but not only he actually killed Dracula in RoB, that was the entire catalyst of his fall from grace in SoTN. It's an important plot point.

Yes, Julius staying behind because unlocking the Mine of Judgment tired him out is silly and a far cry from him obliterating Soma's ass one year prior (while holding back!), but he's still the Belmont who broke Dracula's cycle of resurrection.

Yes, Trevor was stibby stabbed and molested by Isaac who isn't exactly the type that can go unnoticed lmao, but he still is the Legendary Belmont well known for being the first Belmont who killed Dracula, even if with the help of his friends. And as I mentioned, even in CoD you get to see how strong he is, both during his boss fights and during his cutscene against Isaac, who can barely scratch him before getting yanked around by the whip lol.

Yes, Leon didn't fight Dracula, but he's still respected as the founder of the Belmont clan as a family of vampire hunters, and he's still shown to be a formidable fighter through Walter, who is Proto Dracula anyway, and Death.

I'd say Juste is probably the one who was the most "disrespected", as the dude only has a Dracula Wraith killing to his name. Yet, in PoR he's still remembered as one of the Greatest Five, so clearly his feats are considered impressive.

Now compare this to N!Trevor and N!Richter, especially the former since his story is done. What do they have to their names? Trevor killed Death. And not even in that cool LoI way, because N!Death is merely a very ancient vampire and has no connection with Dracula. Richter still hasn't done anything worthwhile, yet he was already mocked by Alucard who recognized him as a Belmont because he was "on the brink of utter defeat", shut up you asshole.

And then there's N!Juste, who fell into cynical depression after the death of Lydie and Maxim (which is also a bruh moment, have you guys ever played Maxim Mode, dude's no chump) and so he's basically treated as another Trevor to be mocked. And then there's Julia, who exists only to be fridged and wasn't even a match for Olrox. And Dracula recognizing Trevor as a Belmont from his ineffectual punches imply some very bad things about the Belmonts that preceded him. And the vampires becoming the ruling class of humans in Nocturne imply some very bad things about the Belmonts that preceded Richter.

There is a pattern here. And it's not a good pattern.

#castlevania #anti netflixvania

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still-a-morosexual-help · 3 years ago

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So far in the game what magic powers has MC learn?

Oh so:

1. They know how to brew potions

2. They know know to use seductive speechcraft

(Though those two might not be so much magic as they are techniques)

3. They can use curses and hexes

• Though it doesn't seem as if they are that good at it cause they mess them up both times they use it, even after Satan tried teaching them (s2)

• Powerful enough that even Lucifer can't fully dispel them and a curse meant to make him fall flat on his face will make him stumble (nightbringer. So they got much better at it)

4. They can heal & take away pain

• They seem to have a natural affinity for this as they are able to pick it up and perform it well after only seeing Satan doing it once, when he wasn't even trying to teach them

5. They are able to form protective barriers against other magic curses

• They do this unconsciously and only for the brothers so it most likely has to do with their pacts and their love and protectiveness of the brothers. The magic is fairly strong cause they are able to deflect Thirteen's curses that even the brothers wouldn't have been able to resist. Though they can't completely deflect them, and instead they turn the curses into much less fatal ones

• Can do this magic consciously and wordlessly

6. They are able to command and control all 7 Sins at the same time

• Without any adverse effects to themself, which Solomon is shocked by because the first time he tried commanding demons he felt like he was dying later

7. They are able to draw out and boost the brothers magical powers and command the brothers during fights

• A lot like a Pokemon trainer tbh

• The closer they are with the brother the more effective this is

8. They are able to command wind

• To form a protective barrier that's strong enough to stop a speeding bullet

• To lift and carry something off the ground (in this case Mammon)

• To form a gale force

• To dry someone who's soaking wet using a warm breeze

9. They are able to command fire

• To attack yet with enough precision and control that they don't burn down the circus tent

• That's strong enough to melt a speeding bullet

10. They can levitate objects

• Though they fall if they lose focus/are distracted

11. They can teleport

• Even across the three worlds

• Though the teleportation is not perfected as it's not accurate. Cause despite thinking of a specific place in the Devildom (the HoL, the council room, Diavolo's castle) they still end up in the library at RAD

• They can teleport another person with them if they are touching that person

• Can teleport items without having to teleport themself too

• They can teleport two people with them across worlds but it takes a lot of concentration to get to the place they want to go

• Can teleport others between dimensions even while remaining in one place themself

12. They are able to summon/control water

• Either a huge tsunami like wave of water

• Or a rain shower

• They can control the temperature of the water

13. They can sense magical objects

14. Can summon & command earth

• To cover someone's mouth

15. Can bind someone

• Has shortened the enchantment (which if I remember correctly is somewhat advanced magic)

• can unbind someone as well

16. They can conjure up a bright light

17. They can use wind & earth magic to unlock/break a set of handcuffs

18. They can dispel illusions

19. They can summon things

• a cat

• a super rare book

20. They can summon demons using their pacts

21. Their magic is strong enough that they can unconsciously overpower an existing enchantment and be identified as the caster of said enchantment

22. They can break enchantments

23. Can use magic to clean a room by controlling different cleaning supplies at the same time

24. Can increase the size of things

25. Can condense a great amout of magic into a singular point and insert it through a solid object to tamper with a magical item

26. Can draw magic out of the brothers and use it as their own

27. Can use their magic to make an entire living tree wilt

28. Can use spells to put multiple people to sleep at once

29. Dispell storms when combining their magic with others

30. Take in others' magic to become stronger

31. They can use their magic to freeze/stop things in place

32. They can create shields using magic

33. They can create a layer of ice on the ground

34. They can use wind magic to lift people up/stop them from falling

35. They can create a magical space/pocket dimension(?) that's only accessible to certain people/blocks people they don't want from entering

36. They can conjure/create clothes with magic

37. They can cast a cool mist that smells of flowers and is potent enough that it can block the smell of food from several food stalls

38. They can create little magic wings on shoes that propels you briefly into the sky and lets you jump high up and far away

4., 5., 8. & 9. (and even 11.) show that MC's powers increase greatly when they get protective and when the need to use the power comes from a place of love

Additionally:

Mammon & Elemental Magic

The 7 Brothers & Elemental Magic

#asks #obey me spoilers #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date? obey me!#obey me!#obey me mc #obey me main character #obey me reader #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer spoilers #obey me! mc #om mc #om! mc #swd mc #shall we date mc #nightbringer mc

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atlantablack · 2 years ago

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Atlantaaa beloved 💜👀 will you please write number 10 for the siken fic prompt game?

10. i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything. from the richard siken ask meme

This is part of the same fic/verse as my smile, your ghost

I could decide for a bit if I want this to be what I shared for this prompt and then I remembered I love torturing people emotionally so here we are <3

October 29th & 30th, 1983 - Elm Street - Buckley Residence

Robin dreams of ice cream over the weekend. Two nights in a row, the sweet chilly slide of chocolate chip and cookie dough and pistachio all slipping down her throat. The dream is a kaleidoscope of swirling blues and reds, an ever persistent ice cream truck jingle playing in the background.

It should be a happy dream, she’s sure of that. It’s just her never-ending desire for school to be out, for summer to be closer than it is. It should be happy. Should be sticky heat and the blue blue blue of the pool. Instead she wakes up both nights with her heart a frantic drum, stomach threatening to rebel.

Both times there’s a word caught on the back of her tongue, some magical key that will unlock the universe if she could only hold onto the shape of it for just a few seconds longer.

She doesn’t manage it though. Spends Sunday desperately, achingly sad. A grief that settles so far under her skin that she cries herself to sleep because she knows, she knows, she knows something is wrong.

Sunday night she dreams of a carousel on the beach, cotton candy clouds and a girl who spins her ‘round and ‘round, curls dancing on the wind. When she wakes up the grief has vanished and she tucks it away, resolves to not think about whatever strangeness took over her body.

She thinks of the girl though, her fingers wrapped tight around Robin’s. Thinks of spinning around and around on a beach. It had felt like a memory, something she should be able to remember if she would only try just a little bit harder.

But of course, there’s nothing there to remember, and so instead she’s stuck with nostalgia for something that will never happen

November 3rd, 1983 - Hawkins High School

The first semester of sophomore year, during second period, Robin sits behind Steve Harrington because she’s unlucky like that. Really, she’d chosen a seat, and then for whatever reason, he’d chosen the seat in front of her. She’d thought about moving, but by the time she’d decided, all the other seats were taken.

It’s not as bad as it could be, she knows this. He doesn’t talk to her, and really, she thinks that’s the bare minimum she could ask of him. To be honest, she’s not entirely convinced he knows she exists, despite sitting her sitting right behind him. Which suits her fine, but also leaves her with a bitter aftertaste.

Or, at least, she thinks he doesn’t know she exists, until he turns around two minutes before class starts, and says, “Hi.”

She blinks, looks behind herself only to find an empty desk. He’s still staring expectantly at her when she turns back around, and the moment feels twisted, like it got compressed and is struggling to shake itself back out. Steve Harrington is talking to her.

“Hi… ,” she says back, unable to help the way her eyes narrow or her mouth twists the word into an insult.

His face, well it, it’s weird, the way his mouth collapses in on itself, his eyes somewhere far away and yet, somehow, still completely focused on her. Weird, in the most unnerving way.

He sweeps a hand through his hair but doesn’t say anything else, and it takes her another minute, but the connection finally slips into place. She knows what this must be. She knows and her stomach turns over and she wants to throw up all over his stupid button-up shirt.

“I’m really not interested,” she says, trying so hard to sound casual and not like she’s one second away from panic. “Sorry.” She’s not.

He blinks, eyes going wide. He leans back a bit and then leans forward again. “No, I— I mean, that’s not why I said hi. I just wanted to… say hello, since I’ve been sitting in front of you all semester and haven’t and I—” He shrugs. “Well, I should have.”

She can’t stop staring, mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You wanted to say hi?”

He shrugs again, nearly disguising the way his shoulders had hiked up to his ears for a second. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll just…” he trails off miserably, gives her another strange look, and then just, turns back around. His shoulders cave in as he plants his elbows on the desk.

He doesn’t look up from his book the entire class and is the first one out the door when the bell rings. Robin, inexplicably, watches his vanishing back, looks back at his desk, and thinks, I wonder what kind of ice cream he likes.

This is not when she realizes that something weird is going on, but it should have been.

----

It isn’t until fifteen minutes into her next class that she remembers Steve and Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers (of all freaking people) are friends now. The thought itches, twisting into freezing barbed wire, and her feet are itching with the urge to go hunt Steve down. To demand some kind of explanation.

But what does she even want an explanation for? (And why does her throat hurt and why does she feel like crying and WHY can’t she stop thinking about fucking ice cream.)

#atlanta writes #ask meme #platonic stobin #platonic with a capital p #robin buckley #time travel #mia tag #fic: ghost

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mca-attack21 · 4 years ago

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The Sacrifice - part III

Okay guys here is the finale. I honestly still don't know how I feel about it and might release an alternative ending at some point. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it. You can find the first two parts and the rest of my writing here: Masterlist

“It took you long enough,” River said without even turning to see who had entered.

“River, we-I-,” the Doctor stammered.

“We need you to tell us what really happened while we were on AmsterDuke,” Amy spoke up firmly.

“Do you want me to keep it PG-13?” River tried to joke, but her heart clearly wasn’t in it.

The Doctor and River usually had a very entertaining dynamic going on. It was like they were playing a flirtatious game of intellectual cat and mouse. Each one pushing the other’s buttons in the best possible way. But today was different. Already, there was a weight on the conversation and the fact that River had yet to face them was telling in itself.

“Please River, whatever happened that day, no matter how bad it was I need to know,” the Doctor decided. The softness of his voice was heartbreaking.

“I can’t tell you what you want to know, you know how the rules work. If I interfere, the timeline will be set in stone. Then there is nothing you’ll ever be able to do to bring back- to fix things,” River explained.

“What can you tell me? What planet I was on? Why was I there? Who was I with? I can hardly remember anything about that day and the TARDIS has no records of anything. You are the only one who knows anything,” the Doctor said irritatedly.

River then turned and looked him in the eyes, and he saw that she had been crying. He could not remember another time that he saw her look so broken. He felt bad for his harsh words, he knew that the role she played in this was not one easily carried. “I lost someone, I think you did too. But I can’t even attempt to bring her back until I know more. So please, if there is anything that you can tell me to help not only me, but her too, I’m begging you River,” the Doctor softly pleaded.

“You dropped off Amy and Rory at AmsterDuke and went to Brisinger to waste time. It was going to be a big day for you, as you decided to do something that you had been putting off for far too long. You were distracted and were captured. Time there was rupturing, the whole system was on the brink of collapse. They needed you to fix the rupture and were prepared to make you autonomous so you wouldn’t fight the process. You would have practically been dead. She could never let that happen so she made a deal and took your place,” River explained carefully.

“When she fixed the rupture, her existence was rewritten. That’s why I can’t remember her. But how come you do? How did you know to come get me?”

“I received a phone call asking me to come and make sure that you would make it back to the TARDIS, to make sure that you would be okay. She made sure to leave me your sonic screwdriver so I would be able to find you and get you out of there.”

“But that still doesn’t explain why you are the only one who remembers her,” Amy decided.

“My past is your future. Our timelines don’t always line up.”

“But if your past is our future that means that we save her, because otherwise you wouldn’t know her.” Rory reasoned.

“Time can be rewritten,” the Doctor replied, clearly deep in thought. He had the feeling that the key to everything he needed to know was on the edge of his brain. She was imprinted on him, it was just a matter of finding the right memory to unlock everything else. “River, is there anything else that you can give us, anything at all?”

“Anything I say risks you never being able to see her again, you know that.”

“I know,” the Doctor agreed, clearly frustrated as he wracked his brain for anything that could be helpful.

River checked her watch, “Well, you’ve better be going. Kaltishdoctria is waiting for you. And besides that, you are about to be getting an important phone call,” River said and her entire face shifted as if something had signaled to her that everything was about to work out.

“Kaltishdoctria? We are not going anywhere until we figure this out!” Amy replied.

Then the Doctor caught on, River had told him exactly what he had needed to know. “Come along Ponds, we have places to be and people to save!” he said excitedly all but pushing the confused married couple towards the TARDIS.

As if almost exactly on cue, the TARDIS phone rang as they entered. The Doctor raced to the line.

“River told me that you would be calling…..yes….of course….well I’m sorry that I temporarily forgot someone who was completely erased from existence….hey now, that’s completely uncalled for….I am not!....I do….I will….Thank you or should I say thank me?” he laughed before hanging up, mood the brightest it had been since that dreadful day.

“Doctor what was that? Who were you talking to?” Amy asked.

“I was talking to myself. Well the me of the past who River sent back to figure out exactly what happened that day.”

“But if that was the you of the past, why didn’t you remember before now?” Rory asked.

“Because I hadn’t gone back until just now. I can’t remember things that I haven’t done yet, now can I Rory?” the Doctor beamed.

“Okay so what exactly do you know now Doctor?” Amy asked, knowing better than even trying to understand all of the timey wimey stuff that the Doctor had just said.

“I know who, where, and when Y/n is and more importantly, I know how to save her. So hold on to something, we are off to Kaltishdoctria!”

As the Doctor said your name, Amy’s and Rory’s memories of you came flooding back. And then the Tardis’ screen translated Kaltishdoctria for them, ‘Lover of the Doctor’. Things were falling into place and within no time, they landed on the planet. Before they exited the TARDIS though, the Doctor disappeared to find something, a yellow glowing orb that he stuck in his pocket.

“You two stay here, I don’t feel like babysitting today,” he joked, straightening up his bowtie excitedly. He was about to exit the TARDIS when he ducked in the back one more time, this time reappearing with his favorite red fez which Amy could have sworn had been destroyed.

"Special occasion calls for special attire," the doctor explained briefly before exiting the TARDIS. As he walked around the city, he was getting flashbacks from that day which were filling in the remaining blanks he had. His hearts were swelling with every thought of you. What little anger he felt at you for doing this for him, was easily overtaken by his concern for you, and both of those things would easily melt away when he had you back in his arms.

The Doctor was so distracted by thoughts of you that he didn’t really register that something was off. He used his psychic paper to get in to see the leader.

“Ahh, Doctor you have returned. I suspect that you’ve heard the news,” he said gravely.

“I have come for Y/n, but don’t worry I have brought you an orb of Vertex energy that could last a millennia,” he said, pulling the glowing ball out of his pocket.

“You would do that for us, even after everything we have taken from you?” the leader asked almost as if he was afraid to get his hopes up.

“You were scared and trying to prevent the death of your people. The way you went about it was wrong, but the intention was noble. Bygones are bygones. Please just take me to her.”

“You should know that her condition is not our fault. She refused to be automatized. We told her that it would burn her out, but she wouldn’t listen. She wanted to remember, she couldn’t stand the thought of losing you,” the leader explained.

The Doctor stopped in his tracks, “What is wrong with her condition?” Even as the words left his mouth he got that dangerous glint in his eyes. The one that reminded everyone that he had seen and done unspeakable things in his life and was not to be messed with.

“I’m so sorry, we thought it was the only way. We honored her wishes. There was nothing else we could do,” the leader fumbled.

“I am being extremely calm, all things considered. And I will remind you that you are speaking about someone that I love. So I will ask you one more time and only one more time what is wrong with her condition.”

The leader looked like he was trying to find the words to explain but then decided against it. He took a few more steps forward to the control room and gestured for the Doctor to follow. He then ordered that the guards unlock the capsule which said ‘15% - 4 days left’.

It is then that he realized what was happening. “How long has she been here?”

“Centuries for us, but time works differently in the stabilizer.”

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when they finally got everything open. You were unconscious, pale, and hardly breathing.

“I have to get her to the TARDIS,” the Doctor decided, voice tight with emotion, especially after noticing his favorite bowtie held in your hands.

“Her body will fail if you remove her. Those four days will be reduced to hours at the most, and our planet will die before everyone has a chance to evacuate,” one of the scientists argued.

“No,” the doctor said in disbelief. His mind was racing. You were not going to die. He was not going to allow it. Not after everything that you had been through, everything that you had sacrificed for him. He had already lost you once and he doubted his hearts would survive losing you again. Not before he got to tell you that he- well that could wait. He was going to think of something. He would save you, save the planet, save the day. He was the doctor, that was what he did. “No,” he repeated again, but this time it was more of a command. ‘No’ you were not allowed to die, ‘No’ the planet would not fall, not today.

The doctor spun, running all of the calculations in his head. This plan was risky, but all of his best ones usually are. It would work, it would have to. “Okay, take this and plug it into the pod. I’ll take Y/n and we’ll be on our way.”

No one dared question him, they did exactly as he said. He leaned in to pick you up and carry you bridal style to the TARDIS. “It’s okay Y/n I’m here, and I’m going to get you fixed up, and then we’ll pick up right where we left off. Y/n and the Doctor, Amy and Rory, all of space and time, every last star in the universe. You just have to hold on for a few more minutes. Just stay with me. Please.” He hoped that somehow, you could feel his presence, that you found some reassurance or sense of safety in his arms.

When he got to the TARDIS, he rushed past the medbay, past the room of yours that had reappeared, and to his own room. He laid you in his bed and looked at you with a pain in his chest that he had not felt in some time. There was no doubt in his mind or hearts that what he was about to do was the right choice.

He laid beside you and pulled you into his arms. We closed his eyes and willed his regeneration energy to heal you. He was willing to give up his twelfth and final regeneration to have you by his side for the rest of this one. He didn’t want to be the doctor without you. Not again. You had made a choice to save him, and this was his choice to save you.

He opened his eyes, only to see that nothing was happening. He tried again, but nothing happened. “No,no,no,no. This isn’t happening. This is my choice! I am going to save her!” he shouted at the universe. He willed his regeneration energy again, but it was to no avail. He scanned you with his sonic screwdriver, your body was failing, you were dying. Tears threatened to escape his eyes. This wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to lose you again. He struggled to force himself away from you and to get Rory. If he couldn’t save you with Timelord science, he would have to trust Rory to save you with Human medicine.

As soon as the Doctor stepped out of the room, the door slammed shut behind him. He turned around and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Open this door right this instance!” he shouted at the TARDIS. She hummed ferociously in response. He pulled out his sonic and tried to force the door open. He was absolutely appalled. Before he could consider his next move, there was a loud scream from inside his room. Your scream.

“Y/n!” the Doctor yelled, trying to get the door open even more frantically.

As if on cue, the lights and power went out in the TARDIS. The next thing he knew, the TARDIS was falling through space. He should have went to the control room to try and fix things, or maybe to check that Amy and Rory, but he couldn’t leave you.

His mind was racing with what could be happening behind the door. He needed to find a way to get it open. Maybe if he- His thoughts were cut short when a familiar yellow glow began to shine from under his door. A twinge of hope sparked in his chest.

“No way. It’s never been done. Not once in the history of Galifrey,” The Doctor muttered under his breath, sinking to his knees.

The Doctor prayed to everything that he was right about what was going on beyond that door. He was about to find out as everything in the TARDIS restarted and he heard the lock unclick. He nervously fumbled with the door knob before letting himself in the room. You were in the bed where he left you, but you no longer looked like you were on the brink of death. Instead, you looked healthier, almost glowing.

He wondered how long it would take you to wake up, but even as he had the thought, you started to shift. “You had me worried you know,” the Doctor said as he went to your side. Your eyes fluttered at his words. Upon realizing who uttered them, you tried to force yourself up. “Take it easy. How are you feeling? Hungry? Thirsty?” he asked as he scanned you with his sonic screwdriver just to confirm his suspicions.

“Where am I? What happened?”

The Doctor frowned, “You're safe, in the TARDIS. What is the last thing you remember?”

“We dropped Amy and Rory off for their honeymoon. We were trying to decide where to go next, and then it all goes blank,” you explain furrowing your eyebrows at whatever you were missing.

“Well, I took you to a planet and you decided to save my life, getting a little banged up in the process. But it’s okay now, you're safe, and we’re together, which is what is important,” he said, pulling you into his arms.

You were going to push the issue, but you felt his hot tears on your shoulder and decided that it could wait. The Doctor’s whole world had almost fallen apart and for the first time he was allowing himself to feel all of it. “I love you, you know that?” he whispered. He had waited too long to tell you those three simple yet complicated words, and he could not wait another second.

“I love you too,” he replied, concerned with his current state. You had never seen him so completely vulnerable before. You were going to say something else, but Amy’s voice was heard shouting from the hall.

“Doctor? What the hell just happened? Is everything okay?”

The doctor pulled away from you, wiping his eyes and smiling widely. He was about to stand up when Amy and Rory barged in.

“What is it the two of you always say? ‘Bedroom - we have a rule’ and then you have the audacity - the audacity to not even knock?” The Doctor tried to chastise before the smile took over his face.

Amy rolled her eyes and walked past him to pull you into a hug, Rory close behind. The Doctor joined in soaking in everything.

In the coming days, you would catch the doctor staring at you when he didn’t think you could see him. His glancing came with a mix of admiration and guilt. When you asked Amy about it, she simply said that almost losing you shook him up hard.

The four of you quickly fell back into your rhythm of going on adventures and saving the day. You never remembered what had really happened during your time on Brisinger, but from seeing how much it still affected the Doctor, you assumed that it was for the best. Your mind would drift to the confessions made when you first woke up, but you never brought it up. At least not until you wandered out to the control room one night to see the Doctor sitting at the TARDIS door with his feet hanging out, looking at the stars.

You walked over to him, causing him to glance over his shoulder at you. A smile forming on his face, “What are you doing up?” he asked.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you answered, taking a seat beside him, “I don’t think I will ever get used to this,” you smiled as you took in the scene before you. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence just taking everything in. “Doctor?” you spoke, breaking the silence.

“Hmmm?”

You paused, you hadn’t even know what you wanted to say. You wanted to ask him about that night, to make a move, anything really. But instead, your nerves took over. There was so much at stake, and he was absolutely everything, how could you even begin to…

“Y/n? Are you okay?” he asked, turning to face you completely.

“Yeah, sorry, forget I said anything,” you made up your mind, looking once again at the stars.

“You know, I think you shine brighter than all of those stars combined,” the Doctor admitted. You couldn’t help but blush as you met his eyes. You were suddenly aware of how close the two of you were. “That day on Brisinger, I was planning on telling you how I felt. How out of all of time and space you are the single most enticing, intriguing, incredible girl that I have ever met. That I would not trade a moment of us together for anything. I had finally worked up the courage to tell you how insanely in love with you I have been since you first agreed to join me. And then with everything that happened, I got scared, I tried to push down my feelings again because I thought that in some way that would make you safer," he explained. You were about to interject, but he continued. "But every single time I look at you it's like the universe is trying to tell me that the risk is nothing compared to the reward....I guess what I'm trying to say is that you are practically the best thing that has ever happened to me and that I love you," he finished nervously.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you joke before leaning in to kiss him, catching him slightly off guard before he melted into it. When you pulled away you saw his goofy grin.

“You do not know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he beamed.

“So, what does all of this mean?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are we together now? I mean do Timelords even date?”

“Of course Timelords date,” he feigned offense, causing you to laugh. He then stood up and took an exaggerated bow, “Y/f/n Y/l/n, would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” he said, offering you his hand.

“Well, considering you are the only other single person on this ship,” you joked before standing up and putting your hand in his. He used it to spin you around, before kissing you again.

“Rory! Get out here and pay up!” Amy yelled from the entryway to the control room.

The surprise of her voice almost caused you to fall out of the TARDIS doors which were left open in the heat of the moment.

“Amy…” the Doctor whined like a little child whose toy was taken away.

“I’m sorry, but I won the bet fair and square and I am getting my money. It took you two long enough,” she replied smiling.

Rory came out and handed her a twenty dollar bill, “You guys couldn’t have held off for another couple weeks?”

Laughter filled the room and for a small shimmering moment all was right in the world of the Doctor.

TAGS: @cc13723things @intothesoul @okay-j-hannah @ashleysimmons @sevvysaurus @lys-hazuki @yourneighbourhoodclown @shadowsmusical @idiosyncraticcatherine @intothesoul @youcandalekmyballs

#eleventh doctor x reader #Eleven #eleventh doctor x you #eleven imagines #eleventh doctor imagines #eleventh doctor imagine #eleventh doctor #doctor x reader #doctor who x you #doctor who imagine #doctor who imagines #11th doctor who #doctor who fandom #doctor who

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kisslettrs · 4 years ago

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haikyuu characters talking after a fight with their s/o

featuring: lev, kuroo, suna

a/n: first post woo! hope you enjoy this ! ALSO UM. THEY TURNED OUT TO BE SO MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT THEYD BE??? ESPECIALLY KUROOS LMAO THEYRE NEVER THIS LONG I PROMISE DONT GET YOUR HOPES UP OR VICE VERSA. also not beta read soz 💔

warnings: none i don’t think? relationship fights ig. oh and angsty with some gushy shit at the end for each of them 💞

→ HAIBIA LEV

you and lev rarely get into fights. only small complains about his behavior and him whining, or friendly petty arguments. but last night was different... I guess you could say.

lev was always pretty immature and playful yeah, but sometimes it felt like he never took anything seriously. it felt as though he never took him and your relationship seriously. especially now, when you decided to confront him about it.

“why are you laughing...?” you asked, staring at him

“i-i’m sorry, y/n honey, i just...!” he said, covering his mouth as a half assed attempt to keep in his laughter.

“lev, i know it’s just in your nature to act like this but I’m being genuine. i’m not joking, please. you’re doing it again! please just listen—!”

you were cut off again by the sounds of your significant other’s laughter, causing all your frustration to let loose.

“lev haiba!”

he immediately stopped, before looking at you in the eyes, his thin pupils meeting yours.

“i’m sorry. but lev, please can you just take me seriously for once?! i love you, but you need to understand that you can’t just—!” you frailed your hand around, motioning towards him, you, whatever this scene was. “—you can’t just do this all the time I—!”

before you could finish, your mind had been too pent up with frustration. “nevermind...” you grabbed your bag, before rushing out the door, not giving him the chance to talk.

fast forward next day, and you checked your phone.

[32 new messages from favorite dork 💝]

you sigh heavily, before letting the cold feeling of guilt claw at the back of your head. you hadn’t mean to make lev worry, you just needed your time alone. although if you did have to be honest with yourself, leaving without a ‘i love you,’ or hell even just a ‘bye’ was cruel.

as you opened your messages, you were bombarded with messages of pleas and apologizes that were sent at 9:21 PM last night, moments after you left his house. the guilt swallowed your stomach again, your hands slowly typing; “it’s ok hun. really. I love you too.” and pressing send.

you threw your phone onto your bed, before deciding to get ready. you and lev never really saw each other much since you two were in different grades, he was a first year, you were a second. you both had to wait after school, or well... maybe moments after. your phone buzzed a few times, but you decided to ignore it. it was too early.

schools over, and you’re walking home. you were gonna talk to lev today, just not now. you didn’t wanna interrupt his volleyball training just for some stupid relationship issue. as soon as you reach home however, you see a familiar tall figure fidgeting on his phone.

“...lev?” you called out, causing the silver haired boy to whip his head around, his eyes lighting up. “Y/N!”

he quickly shoved his phone inside his pocket, before running up to you and embracing you in a warm hug, shaking you a little. “y/n! y/n! i’m sorry for being stupid last night, I’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” he was squeezing you tight, and god did it hurt hearing his voice break like that.

“lev, sweetie, i told you it’s okay, really.” you spoke, caressing his back. he seemed to stay still for a moment, before speaking once again. “is this okay? me holding you like this, is this okay or do you... need space?”

you smiled softly. it made you happy lev wanted to make sure he wasn’t overstepping any of your boundaries. you felt your other arm hold him. “yeah, this is okay.” you swore you could feel him smile out of relief.

“i’m... i’m sorry again y/n honey, it’s just hard for me, i don’t...” he paused. “it’s just...difficult for me to handle situations like that.” you nuzzled into his shoulder. “it’s okay, you dork. i understand.” you reassured him again.

“but—!” he pushed back, meeting your eyes. “i’m gonna try...i’m gonna try harder. i’m gonna try to be better, for you y/n! i love you so much... i’ll do my best.” god, this dork. no wonder you loved him so much. you cupped his cheeks. “i’ll do better too lev, i won’t be as mean again. i promise, i love you too, so much.”

and with that, both of your faces met, and the two of you kissed lightly.

→ KUROO TETSURO

you and kuroo get into small arguments here and there like every other couple, and whenever you do you two usually recover quickly. you both like to call them ‘squicks.’

however, that night there was no denying that wasn’t any other normal squick you two had. no, that was a fight.

kuroo and you haven’t had a moment alone that wasn’t just you and him walking back home, and it’s been making you upset. so uh, that night you decided to confront him about it.

yeah it didn’t go well uhh

“i know we’re like, a couple y/n. but honey you have to understand i’m busy. you have friends don’t you? go hang out with them or something.”

“yeah, i know kuroo, and trust me i’m happy for you! but you’ve been so distant, we haven’t had a moment alone that lasted more than 5 minutes for like, 2 months! it wasn’t a big deal then, but i miss you and i’m worried.”

you paused, before continuing. “don’t you wanna spend some time with me? just, for like 30 minutes? don’t you miss me?”

“i do, y/n. i miss you and i love you. but like i said i’m busy with volleyball, you aren’t my top priority right now.”

“it’s been 2 months kuroo!” you shouted, causing him to widen his eyes. “don’t you understand? i’m not asking for your top attention, I’m asking for you to give me 25% of it at least!”

it was quiet for a moment. “sorry.” was all he said, before turning around his eyes focused on the volleyball between his feet.

you felt hurt and frustrated. “you know what? fine.” he immediately went back to look at you, seeing you grab your bag. “see you whenever you feel like to acknowledge my existence, I guess. bye.”

as soon as you touched the doorknob, you could hear him get up and say the words ‘wait, baby wait—‘ but you had enough. you needed to air out your head of the tension and frustration of the house and you left. you felt tears peak at the corner of your eyes as soon as you did.

next day, and you’ve been feeling shittier than usual. as soon as you woke up, you turned to make you lay on your back, staring at your ceiling and thinking; “was i too harsh? am i being too selfish? too clingy?”

you loved what your boyfriend did and you were perfectly fine with him having his time to himself. you knew you weren’t his top priority and he wasn’t yours. but 2 months with little to no communication felt too long. was it wrong to want to spend at least 30 minutes with your boyfriend? was that too much to ask for?

the anxiety raced to your head again. what if you were being too clingy. maybe kuroo had the right to be upset too. you were being too selfish, stop thinking of yourself so often. you curled up into your side. you didn’t want to think about it, and you didn’t want to see him in the halls either. you didn’t even wanna check your phone to see if you messaged you.

you decided to skip, staying home, watching TV and playing some games. you couldn’t mentally handle seeing him. at least not for right now.

some time passes by, and your phone is buzzing. you checked the time from the small clock on your wall, seeing the handles pointing towards 4:30 PM. oh wow, after school clubs should be over too.

you grabbed your phone to see who it’s by, knowing deep down it was who you thought it was.

[23 new messages by Hubby ��💗]

[Kyanma: uhh hey y/n? did something...]

[2 missed calls by Hubby 😾💗]

choosing to ignore kuroo for now, you swiped at Kenma’s notification and read the full message.

[Kyanma: uhh hey y/n? did something happen with kuroo that youre aware of??? he seemed so much more down than usual during practice.

you: no. we rarely talk anymore because of practice lol I guess.

Kyanma: ???

Kyanma: Did something happen between YOU two?

you: we had a fight. im not really in the mood to talk to him. I skipped school. itll be back to normal in a few more days, sorry for the inconvenience snchsychsj

Kyanma: you two should resolve that. like seriously. hope u two feel better tho, bye✌️

you: we will hopefully lol bye kenma !!]

sighing, you placed your phone down on the small coffee table infront of you, but as soon did, you heard a knock coming from your front door. humming in response, you got up and made your way towards the front door, but decided to look through the peephole to make sure it wasn’t some scammer person or creep.

well, it was neither of those two but it was in fact no one else other than kuroo tetsuro. you sighed heavily again, before unlocking the door and turning the knob opening up to your boyfriend.

“hey y/n.”

“hi kuroo.”

you folded your arms, deciding to put up a strong facade, pretending you weren’t mentally screaming and that anxiety wasn’t clawing at your back. “did you forget something or...?”

kuroo brought his hand to the back of neck, awkwardly scratching it. “yeah uh...” he looked around, not wanting to make eye contact. “um. listen y/n.” he made his way to grab your hands, holding them together. “i’m sorry. i really am.”

“please don’t touch me. not right now at least...” even though you seemed so desperate for his touch the other night, you really did need your space. kuroo seemed alarmed at first, quickly swiping his hands back, wanting to respect your space. “of course baby! i’m sorry for acting too soon.”

you watched him scramble around a bit, finding it a bit cute. “can I come inside?” he asked. you nodded, and both of you went inside and sat to your coach.

“like I said y/n. i know ive been distant, and ive missed you so much. god, do I miss you. i wanna hug you and cuddle you so bad but volleyball and the nationals have been bugging me i couldn’t have find the proper time. i’m just scared... and I...”

“kuroo.” you said. his head snatched upwards, looking at you. you were gonna say something as soon as he did but the look he gave you caught you off guard. he looked like a cat pleading.

as soon as you pushed away the thoughts of him being stupidly adorable, you continued your sentence. “I understand, and i’m sorry for being too clingy. i just miss you a lot. i’m willing to wait for you, baby.” as soon as you said that, you saw his eyes pierce through your soul. fuck did I say something wrong.

before you could say anything else, it was kuroo’s turn to speak. “no baby. it’s alright, you aren’t the one at fault here it was me. i’m sorry for not listening to you that night. i’m gonna be a better boyfriend, i’m gonna be the boyfriend you deserve through and through.”

fucking idiot, i’m the one who was supposed to say sorry, not you! You didn’t say anything for a moment, before laughing lightly. “babe? i love you but i have to be the one who takes at least, 50% of the fault. it’s okay, i love you and i forgive you. and i’m happy for what you’re doing and how far you’ve come.” you placed your hand on his. “you can touch me now.”

his eyes immediately lit up, his lips curving into a smile and you swore you could see tears start forming in his eyes before he launched himself onto you. “my god y/n, how did i get so lucky. i love you so much, i love you so much.” he hugged you tight. you laughed. “i love you too kuroo. so much, i love you so much. i’m the lucky one.”

he pulled away and brought you to a kiss. before you could respond, he asked, “are you free saturday?”

→ SUNA RINTARO

while suna and you disagreed on a lot of things from time to time, you two usually both came to a mutual agreement and it wasn’t anything big.

but lately he seemed even more off than usual. communication was such a huge thing between both of you, but he seemed to just not be...cooperating?

suna is someone who doesn’t like expressing his emotions. and as his significant other, you felt like understanding him was a priority. but you just didn’t sometimes and it made you worry. him being distant did not help.

one day when you decided to bring it up, the situation got a bit... out of hand

“what?” he asked.

you shrugged your shoulders. “i don’t know. suna i care for you, and you just never helping me understand makes me extremely upset! i know it’s hard for you, but...”

you could feel him roll his eyes. “i don’t know what you’re going on about y/n,” he looked at you. “but really, i’m fine. do you not trust me to talk to you or something?”

“no..!” you denied. “listen. youve been getting more and more tired each day and i could tell. you’ve been ghosting me too.”

“...what?” he basically hissed it. “i’m not an asshole y/n. nothing is wrong. why do you keep trying to butt your head into my life every second?” his voice began to raise.

this was rare. even when he did raise his voice at you, it was never filled with negative intent but this time...

“i can take care of myself, y/n. i don’t need you and your noisy nose in my business all the time. sorry if you feel like you’re on baby sitting duty, but you really don’t need to be so clingy and emotional all the time...”

well damn. his words hurt. a lot.

“sorry for caring for you then, damn...” you grumble under your breath. you quickly grabbed your house keys and bags. he perked his head up. “y/n? where are you going?”

you didn’t reply. “y/n!” you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the pain in your chest and stomach, before opening the door and leaving.

as soon as you woke up, your head hurt more than usual. those words must’ve hit you deeper than they should’ve, huh?

maybe i was just being too clingy, you thought, and those thoughts hadn’t left your mind the whole morning. whatever, you’ll just apologize after school.

you haven’t seen suna at all that day, not on the walk to school, not in the halls, not in his classroom. he was... nowhere. when you went to the volleyball club after school, asking if any of the members had seen him all of them replied with a simple ‘no.’

kita specically had been giving you long glances ever since you arrived. once you finally reached him, instead of denying seeing your boyfriend, he told you, “he wasn’t in school at all i assume. maybe he’s at home.”

home? why would he be home? maybe he was feeling sick...

you bowed and thanked him and the rest of the teammates before leaving. on your way home, you decided to stop by a connivence store and buy him his favorite snack, chuupet. or well, just jelly fruit snacks. you bought 2 packs for you and him, hoping it was a good time to apologize.

you walked up to his house, knocked lightly on the door and was greeted by his mother. “ah~ greetings y/n!” you smiled lightly and gave her a wave. “good afternoon! say, is rintaro home?” you asked. she nodded, moving to the side as a way to invite you in the house. “he should be in his room!”

“thank you!” you bowed quickly before making your way up the stairs. as soon as you passed by his sisters room, there you were infront of his. with your free hand, you lightly held a fist and began knocking on his door.

“suna? rintaro?” you called out. you would call him by a sweet pet name but remembering last night, you didn’t wanna break any boundaries. the room was quiet, and though you really didn’t wanna disturb him, you wanted to make sure he was okay. as soon as you did, however, you were greeted by a sight that broke your heart.

suna rintaro, the boy you loved so much, had his hair messier than usual, his eyes seemed red from crying and he was up against his bed frame, his phone in his hand. when he looked up, he saw you, his eyes widening.

“...y-y/n?” you stood there frozen. “rintaro...honey my god,” you quickly went up to him. “what happened?” you looked at him, his gaze looking down. you wanted to hug him so bad, but yet again, that argument you had last night prevented you from anything.

“hey. listen, sweetie. i got your favorite.” you held up the 2 bags of jelly fruit gummies. “it’s gonna be okay, okay? i’m here.” he was just looking at you, not saying anything, before muttering something under his breath.

“huh? what was that? i didn’t hear you hon, what’s up?” you asked, making sure to keep your distance. suna choked back a sob, before launching himself onto you, almost knocking you into the ground. “w-woah there!”

“y/n... i’m sorry i’m so sorry. i’ve been so frustrated with school... exams... volleyball and i’ve missed you so much but i was so tired that night! i lashed out on you but i didn’t mean any of it. i promise, i promise, don’t leave me please.” he sobbed quietly, his head resting against your forehead. when you looked up, you could see him squeezing his eyes shut.

wow, this was even more rare.

you brought your arms to his neck, embracing him. “it’s okay rintaro. shh, it’s gonna be okay. i love you and i’m sorry for being upset, i just worry about you.” you rubbed his back lightly as he continued sobbing, allowing you to give him a few kisses on the cheek, neck and forehead. “you’re safe, you’re gonna be okay honey. i love you so much.” you repeated.

suna never showed his emotions much, but he seemed to have a lot of pent up anger, sadness and confusion up in him, and he let it out for an hour infront of you, there to comfort him.

as soon as he stopped, you and him were snuggling on his bed watching whatever was on his TV, eating the fruit snacks. he leaned onto your head. “i love you...please, don’t leave me. i’m sorry.”

you bumped your head back onto him. “stop apologizing. i keep telling you it’s okay.” you giggled lightly. “please sweetie, talk to me so this doesn’t happen again.” he only nodded silently, before drifting to sleep in your embrace.

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rosaliestark01 · 4 years ago

Text

Dusk Till Dawn - Part 9

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Tony reveals who Y/N's real dad is and Y/N confronts her family.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, angst, maybe some cringiness???

A/N: Although @annies-marvel-imagines will no longer be posting more parts, she will still receive credit.

"Can someone please explain what just happened?" Clint asks as he sits against the wall of their cell. He flicks a piece of lint from his sleeve before looking at the others for answers.

"I'm sorry. Did you miss the part where Y/N kicked our asses?" Tony backtalks. It's evident he takes your betrayal extremely personally, more so than anyone else.

"No, I think I was taking my afternoon nap," Clint deadpans. "What I don't understand is why."

"This is all my fault," Peter sighs. His shoulders slump and the regret is clear as day. "If I hadn't let my guard down at the dance-"

Everyone in the cell groaned in exasperation. Peter and Tony hadn't stopped blaming themselves the entire time, and it was shattering the morale of everyone there as though their spirits weren't already broken.

"Now's not the time to be playing the blame game," Nat discusses. "We need to figure out a way out of here."

"We wouldn't be in this mess if Y/N hadn't stabbed us all in the back," Bucky mumbles under his breath. He knew that you were a good fighter, considering he and Nat were the ones who trained you. He just never imagined that you'd turn on him and everyone else.

"No," Steve responds. "Y/N wouldn't betray us if she didn't have a good reason. He had to have forced her or something."

"Sorry to break it to you," Ezekiel chuckles as he approaches the cell with you and Eloise by his side, "but I didn't force Y/N to do shit. Isn't that right, sweetheart."

"Yeah, dad," you reply. Peter seems to be the only one to notice how uncomfortable you were to call that man your dad.

"Dad?" Tony quotes. His face turns beet red, and, for a split second, you were afraid that a vein would pop. He stares at Ezekiel angrily before responding, "You-"

Before Tony could finish his sentence, Ezekiel pressed a button, causing a soundproof metal barrier to surround the cell.

"Don't worry about them, Y/N." Ezekiel laughed, beginning to walk away. "They'll get what they deserve soon enough."

"With our sponsor ready to move to phase two, we'll be unstoppable," Eloise added. You refrained from becoming visibly alarmed at the mention of a sponsor. It made sense that that would have explained how they could get a hold of such advanced technology.

"Your sponsor?" You questioned, trying not to seem too interested.

"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with," Ezekiel mutters, ignoring you in favor of questioning Eloise. "Has the shipment arrived?"

"Most of it," She states. They continue walking ahead of you, leaving you to wonder what the heck you've gotten yourself into.

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

"Tony, is that true?" Rhodey asks. "Is that asshole Y/N's real dad?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Tony retorts. "Of course, that's not Y/N's real dad."

"Then who is he?" Steve questions, unaware of how Tony has been avoiding making eye contact with him.

"His name is Ezekiel Stane. His dad was my business partner until he betrayed me." Everyone nods their head, beginning to understand what was going on.

"And now he's using Y/n to get revenge," Steve finished. "Who is Y/N's real dad?"

Everyone looks at Tony expectantly. They're both eager to find out who your real dad is and curious as to why it is such a heavily guarded secret. Whoever it is, it can't be worse than the guy who is actively manipulating you as an act of revenge. When Tony fails to answer, Bruce speaks up.

"Dammit, Tony, this is important information," he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

"Banner is right," Steve declares, causing Tony to lose it.

"Fine! You want to know who her real dad is? It's you!"Silence engulfs the cell as everyone is too shocked to quickly process what Tony revealed.

"Is this a joke to you?" Steve's brows knitted in confusion and anger as he stared at Tony. Yet, the fear and bitterness that burned in his eyes told the truth. "I can't be Y/N's dad. It's impossible."

"You want to know how it's possible? Ask Fury," Tony seethed. He couldn't meet anyone's eyes, but he knew what they were all thinking.

"Fury knew?" Nat asks quietly, not ready to believe that Fury would keep something this important, something this profound, about you from her.

"Dammit, Tony. You had no right to keep this a secret," Steve yells as he begins to pace. The more he thinks about it, the more you look like someone from his past, someone he thought would be his future before he went in the ice.

"Didn't I?" Tony challenges. "Y/N is still my daughter."

"Now's not the time to fight about this," Nat mutters, still processing the information. "Y/N still thinks that that guy is her dad, and we need to find a way out of here."

"I don't think that Y/N thinks that guy is her dad," Peter pipes up. "You saw how uncomfortable she got when she called him 'dad', and I have a gut feeling that she's still on our side."

"I don't trust your spider-tingle, or whatever you call it. It's been wrong before," Bucky scowls, remembering one of the few times he remembers Peter's gut feeling had led them all into a few unpleasant situations.

"But I don't think it's wrong this time. I have faith in Y/N," Peter states confidently.

"I hate to say it, but the kid is right. Y/N is our only hope of getting out of here."

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

"Would you fucking quit it? You're giving me a headache," Eloise fusses. At this moment, you'd give anything to shut her up. You came here to think, but all you could think about was how her constant bickering was distracting you. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

The two of you were in what Ezekiel called the "weapon room ." Although there wasn't a weapon in sight, you had a feeling that they were still in the piles of unopened metal crates that were stacked around the room.

"They're the Avengers," You tell her. "Aren't you worried they'd escape?"

In reality, you were more worried about helping them escape. You'd be lying if you said that you thought this out entirely through. You should have realized before you put your friends and family in a cell that you'd need to know how to get them out of it.

"Unlike you, I have faith in the cell Zeke created. There's no way they can escape without the remote," Eloise glares at you from where she sat. The dislike she had for you was more evident than ever, but you didn't have it in you to be sad about it. The sweet girl you became friends with months ago never existed.

"What remote?" You ask. Her eyes narrowed at you as though she were scanning you for any signs of betrayal.

"Like I'd tell you," she huffs angrily as she rises to her feet. Either way, learning about the remote gave you a new plan. "Unlike Zeke, I don't trust you for a second. Not when we've got your slimy boyfriend in a cage."

"He's not my boyfriend." The words, despite their truth, burned your mouth. Peter wasn't your boyfriend, but that didn't mean you didn't want him to be.

"Sure." The second she turns around to leave, you notice something peaking out of her pocket. This could be the remote, you thought. Then again, what if it isn't. Either way, you weren't going to pass up the chance in case it is.

"Eloise." She turns toward you, but before she could react, your fist collides with her jaw, causing her to collapse on one of the crates. You check to make sure that she stayed out cold before grabbing the remote.

You couldn't help the rush of anticipation as you make your way towards the cell. You weren't sure what you were going to say to them or if they were even going to hear you out, but you had to try.

"Okay," you mutter as you stand in front of the cell. You stare at the remote in your hand, and you click on the button that you hope would open it. Abruptly, the cell seems to unlock before a door popped open. Inside stood the shocked faces of your family, who you double-crossed.

"You guys probably hate my guts, but trust me when I say I had a good reason," you stated as you stared at their faces which were a mixture of anger, disappointment, and relief.

"Care to explain?" Nat crosses her arms dauntingly, prompting you to lower your head in guilt.

"Well..." You began, fiddling with your sleeve. "I'll start by saying that I made a mistake by trusting Eloise and Ezekiel."

"You think?" Bucky scoffed. You couldn't help the shame that washed over you at the sight of the disappointed looks etched on the faces of your two mentors. You knew it would take a lot to earn back their trust, but you hoped that this was a start.

"But when I realized that Ezekiel wasn't my real dad, I had to play along," you explain. You look up at everyone and hope that they'd understand. "I think that they're planning something big."

"Answer this. Did you start playing along before or after you kidnapped all of us?" Nat questioned. The look on her face is unreadable, which slightly unsettled you.

"It was the night of the dance," you confirm. You felt bad about ditching Peter that night. It wasn't until afterward that you remembered that Peter didn't like Gwen. Instead, he chose you. You just had to go and mess it up by choosing Eloise. "They started talking nonsense about Tony attacking them and how they needed to destroy the Avengers, so I played along to find out what their endgame was."

You subtly wince at the way Tony's face fell when you used his name, regret washing over you immediately. For all you knew, Tony is your real dad, and the file that Hydra had on you was one big lie.

"What do you think they're planning?" Peter asks. You meet his eyes for the first time and answer honestly.

"I'm not sure, but Eloise said something about their sponsor being ready to move on to the next phase." You let the severity of the situation soak before continuing. "They've already received truckloads of metal crates just like the one we got from that Hydra base weeks ago."

"The one with the red wax stamp?" Nat asks, meaning she remembered.

"Exactly."

"So, do you have a plan?" Sam asks, getting up from the floor.

"Yeah." A small smile made its way to your face as you look at your family. "I have a plan."

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quokkacore · 4 years ago

Text

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday.

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00.

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak.

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM]

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM]

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid.

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me.

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range.

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life.

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly.

[7:57 AM]

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took.

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School.

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.”

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation.

A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.”

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement.

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.”

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon.

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking.

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored.

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him.

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you.

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry.

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.”

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front.

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since.

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her.

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today.

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

“I don’t like her, Yeeun.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken.

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.”

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club.

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you.

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice.

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?”

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled.

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately.

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?”

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?”

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’.

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.”

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch.

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy.

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time.

Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord.

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends.

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?"

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!”

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months.

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung.

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung.

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history.

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since.

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything.

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration.

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to.

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel.

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face.

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also.

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college.

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing.

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!”

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss.

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either.

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only.

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters.

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked.

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—”

The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit.

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here."

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things.

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious.

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Perfect.”

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things.

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed.

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?”

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!”

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.”

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?”

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.”

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out.

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry."

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me."

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change."

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult. You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?"

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year."

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal."

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist.

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether.

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly.

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed.

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

“Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.”

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them.

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was.

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before.

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped.

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him.

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered.

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came.

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground.

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!”

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths.

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault.

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station.

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could.

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up.

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs @crescentjen

#kwritersworldnet #nct angst #nct x reader #jeno x reader #jeno angst #jeno fluff #nct au #jeno au #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop imagines #nct dream x reader #lee jeno x reader #my writing

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subpar-ghoulfriend · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Pea

Villain!MicxReader

tw: yandere themes (kinda), breaking and entering

You hadn't been sleeping well since the attack last week. Every time you began to doze off another worry would pop in to focus. How long will UA be closed for repairs? How were the students? Was Aizawa awake yet? And most often you'd ask yourself, how could he? He referring to Present Mic, of course.

You've tried telling yourself that he isn't Present Mic, that Present Mic had never really existed. And that man certainly was no hero. Heroes don't go around destroying schools or maiming their coworkers. Coworkers who were supposed to be his friends.

Present Mic - no, Yamada - had been collecting information from the prestigious school ever since he was a student. Beginning after the incident. To him, the school system was to blame for all the harm done to his friends. As if four years of mediocre training could prepare literal children for fights they didn't stand a chance in. He had tried, truly he had, to convince himself that things were changing for the better. That more steps were taking place to protect the children. He thought he was going about it the "right" way. Until he got in to an argument with All Might, Nezu, and even Eraserhead. Nobody was listening to him about how much they hurting the students, about how traumatized these children had become. Apparently the students had to learn the hard. So Mic was done with pretending to enjoy the system, he was done trying to overlook the crimes of the hero system, and he was done not being listened to.

But you listened.

Any time he would be in a fit of frustration he would come in to your office and vent. You never judged him. You never questioned what he felt. You told him you understood.

And Mic knew you really did. You weren't saying those things just because you're the schools counselor.

///

Finally giving up on sleep, you crawled out of bed. The sun was barely starting to rise and the air was still cold. Maybe a walk would do you some good.

You stopped at the farthest point of your walk from your house. Back still hurting from the attack, you decided to stretch before returning. As you were finishing up you heard a whistle but found nothing when you turned around. A shiver ran down your spine. It was easy to convince yourself it was nothing; your hearing was still a bit messed up as a parting gift from your former friend.

The whistle noise reappeared when you got home. No harm in looking around, just to make sure everything is still how you left it. But as you rounded the corner to your room you ran into something. No, someone.

"Did'ya miss me, songbird?"

You covered your ears reflexively, "Mic?"

The blonde grimaced, "Maybe let's not use that name, sweet pea. Zashi still works though. How's Shota?"

How's Shota? He actually has the nerve to ask you how the man he put in the hospital is. One would think that All Might would get the brunt of the now-villains anger, but no, it was his best friend.

Everyone knew you cried when you got too overwhelmed or angry, and right now you were both.

The man sighed and knelt down next you, "I didn't plan on hurting him but he kept coming after me and his quirk is a real pain. When it comes to fighting without quirks he's always been stronger than me, but I'm faster. Once he got knocked out I left him be. Now I was surprised that you tried to fight me."

"And because of you I nearly lost my hearing," You hissed and pushed past him.

Mic couldn't help but laugh. You really though he had little control of his quirk? If he wanted to burst your eardrums he would have. He debated staying where he was, eventually you'd have to go to your room for something, but then he remembered he was a fugitive and probably shouldn't let you out of his eyesight.

"Why are you being so dramatic," He teased. "And what are you looking for?"

You had several drawers open in your living room and were rummaging through them like a starving raccoon.

"A taser," You hissed. "Get out of my house, Yamada."

"Oh, a taser, kinky."

All but pulling at your hair, you glared at him. "Get out."

You pulled out your phone, finally having the wherewithal to call... someone. And with that your intruder's jovial attitude dissipated. He lunged for your phone and you two began a terrifying game of keep away. As soon as you broke out of his grasp, you sprinted to your room. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt like throwing up.

"Okay, sweet pea, here's the deal. You call anyone and I'll kill them when they get here," He slammed on the door. "I'm giving you the chance to be a good girl and unlock the door."

Why was he doing this? You knew he could bust through the door without much effort. He was just getting off on scaring you. But you also didn't doubt that he'd follow through on his word if you called for help. So instead you threw your phone on the bed and opened the window.

Then Mic tumbled through the now-broken door.

With you hands protecting your ears you tried to be as quiet as possible. You were pressed to the very back of your closet, praying that he believed you got out of the house. If he was was faster than Aizawa, you knew he'd have no problem catching up if you tried to run.

You could hear his footsteps tracing around your room. The window was shut, and then locked. Crap, he knows you didn't run. He was whistling again. He picked up your phone and tried to unlock it a few times before dropping it on the floor. The glass made a crunchy sound when he stepped on the screen.

"Songbird, I didn't know you liked hide-and-seek."

He would treat this like sadistic game.

As if you were a toddler, Mic present to look for you under your bed.

"I doubt you left the room, so where could you be?" Continuing to mock you he knocked on the closet door.

You chose to close your eyes when the door slid open. This must just be a bad dream. Jerking you out of the closet gasped in surprise.

"I found you!"

He pulled you in to the tightest hug as a needle pierced your skin. After only a few moments of struggling you felt your body begin to fall, until Mic hoisted you in to his arms.

"I think that's enough games for today. Get some sleep now."

#present mic #yandere #villain!mic #mha x reader

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cloveroctobers · 4 years ago

Note

i was wondering if you could do an imagine where olivia is sexually assaulted and after her behaviour around the house drastically changes until she eventually tells jordan + her parents? i just wanted to see a protective, baker family imagine that focused on her :))

TW: mentions of s******* assault, trauma, bodily fluids, college parties, panic attacks, depression, etc…

A/N: took me a minute to decide if I wanted to write this piece since it’s slightly triggering for myself and can be to others. Not overly detailed ofc but I hope when I do fully get back into writing we’ll have some happy moments to come! Especially for my girl Liv.

SOMETHINGS WRONG — O. Baker

Olivia Baker felt like she could make a list of what she can now label herself as which held negative connotations:

The pill popper

The drunk

That mixed girl

The other twin

The girl with no solid friends

The boyfriend-stealer

The wannabe woke girl

And now the victim

She couldn’t get her mind to grasp that. That this happened to her, that she let this happen to her. If she was in her right mind she would realize that this isn’t something she could ever blame herself for but she knew others would, if she ever let them know. But she wouldn’t, she couldn’t.

What was supposed to be a fun weekend in Atlanta turned into a moment she wouldn’t forget. It was all fun and games, it actually felt like the one true moment in time where she felt free and happy. Surrounded by good people with good intentions, which only consisted of Spencer, Jordan, and Simone. These were her main people, her right hands, and her go-to but that seemed to fade the night her life drastically changed—yet again.

The events that occurred that night were burned into her mind in spurts. Olivia couldn’t piece them all together but she knew. She knew something was wrong with the way that she felt even though she was dressed as if nothing occurred. She knew the moment she pulled herself off the floor in her own drool to look at herself in the mirror that something was wrong. She knew it in her appearance and in the way that she felt. Her confirmations were proven correct when she decided to use the bathroom, what she felt, and what she saw.

She was gagging and struggling to breathe. Olivia Baker knew something happened to her when she realized she woke up alone on the cold bathroom floor. She was doing so well and thought she was stronger than this, how could this be added to the things of what happened to her or what she allowed to happen to her? Her mind was weak, somewhere in the night she let her guard down and now she was here. It all felt like her fault.

What will they say about her now?

Olivia’s experienced a handful of trauma in her teenage life before but THIS…this was something else. She felt like she was going to pass out again until she found the strength to let the anxiety take its course in subsiding. Pushing herself up with a huge whimper and wince, she began searching the bathroom for her phone as it was not on her body. She remembered the first thing she wanted to do was document this because as soon as she got back to Simone’s aunt’s house she was going to wash away the filth she felt.

Perhaps that was another mistake but she couldn’t erase what she felt beneath and on her skin. It felt like Olivia was moving in slow motion searching the fancy bathroom, stumbling and shoving items out of the way in search of her device. When she slipped on something in the bathroom, she failed to catch herself, her cheek colliding with the tile floor, she knew that would leave another bruise along with the rest on her body. Her eyes connected with the object which looked to be covered in what appeared to be blood.

With a shaky finger she reached out to it, and recoiled back as her finger became coated in the copper stench. That’s when the tears began to cloud her vision and she wanted to cover her cries but she felt frozen, like she did hours prior. So she cried until her body ached internally and furthermore externally, and with a shaky breath those came to a halt when she heard something rattling.

She moved painfully slow, ripping the shower curtain back to see her phone tossed in the stone shower face down. Swallowing, she picked the phone up to see that the now missed call was from Jordan. She had over thirty missed calls and fifteen text messages. Blinking Olivia unlocked her phone and opened up her camera and angled her phone before hearing multiple shutter speeds.

At least that part of her mind was still functioning. She thought to herself bitterly as she went over to the mirror once again, setting her phone down on the counter to call a Uber back to Simone’s aunt’s house.

This was just another scar in her story, she guessed. So she rinsed her face, and gave Simone a call first…feeling as if this was the best option out of the three…when all she really wanted to do was call her mom.

“Olivia!” Simone greeted, “Girl, where the hell are you? Last night was so crazy and Jordan was trying to stalk you but realized you turned off your location, which he said is something you’d never do but I figured since you went off with Othello and them you would be fine.”

It took a minute for Olivia to respond. Her vision still locked on her reflection as that name sent something through her. Making her eyes close shut as she heard the voice introduce itself with that name but she couldn’t connect the face to it. However it seemed like Simone was familiar with who Olivia disappeared off with.

“I’m in a Uber on my way back to your aunt’s house.” Olivia knew she sounded like herself to Simone but her face was stoney and she did not feel like herself…as to be expected.

Simone nodded, “okay…cool! I’m glad you got back to one of us because we were getting a little worried.”

“Worried I’d relapse?” Olivia stated but cleared her throat knowing Simone didn’t deserve the brunt of her trauma, “Please tell me Jordan didn’t call our parents.”

Simone chose to ignore that, wishing later that she didn’t—however her and Olivia were still trying to build their relationship as in-laws so they were still feeling out each other’s temperaments and personalities, “No. I persuaded him not to…although I know that would have changed if you didn’t show up at some part today and I don’t blame him. Him and Spencer are getting a little stir-crazy without you. So please bring your butt here so my aunt can take us to this flea market she keeps going on about.”

“Alright,” Olivia breathed out a laugh that felt humorless to her, “I should be there in ten according to the ride but we all know down here in the south it’s really thirty minutes.”

“Tell me about it! It’s always ‘oh, it’s right down the street!’ But why we still driving tho?!” Simone laughed, “see you soon. I’ll let the boys know you’re on your way.”

And with that they ended the call.

Olivia shoved the clothes she worn that night back underneath her bed, still unwashed and out of sight. She went searching under her bed after her black oil pastel pencil slid off her bed. It was always in the back of her mind that the clothes rotted underneath the place where she lay her head. Sleep no longer existed to her but it’s not like a good portion of concealer didn’t help hide her puffy bags.

Olivia was violated going on about three weeks now and she was expected to go on like everything was okay. That was the challenge. And it was exhausting and moments throughout her day felt like someone would hold onto her throat and squeeze for minutes at a time.

She kept up with her therapy so that nothing about her seemed suspicious. She had thoughts about her pills and the thoughts about sipping alcohol made her stomach turn—so perhaps that part was a good thing. Her dad moved back into the house so the family dynamic was shifting yet again, her mom made it her mission to not have any booze in the house and any over the counter medication that was addressed to any of them in the house would be under only her and Billy’s care.

Those wouldn’t be strong enough for Olivia anyways, and that thought alone made her laugh bitterly but she was glad someone was taking the initiative to her health. Liv was not to have any access to it. It might not have been said but Olivia Baker always paid attention to everything.

She was doing well at hiding, almost flawless in her mind; that something had changed her life for the worse. Whereas with her pill popping/partying had been out in the open and her drinking was slightly undercover, Olivia thought she was doing well acting like her assault didn’t take place—yet the signs were there however it was cautious on how to approach. She had been careless, leaving her phone unlocked when she went off to the bathroom and with iPhone’s broadcasting your memories with photo’s was what lit the flame.

Laura was sitting at the island previously with Olivia while the boys were seated on the couch watching some game. She was sipping her voss water when Olivia’s phone let out the alert, which was closer to Laura’s view. At first Laura thought they were nudes but when she picked the phone up to click on the photo’s, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. A gasp unknowingly left her lips, causing Billy to look over his shoulder at his on-again wife.

“Laura, baby? Are you alright?”

Before she could say anything else Olivia walked back into the room, rubbing the hand cream further into her hands as she made her way over to her mom. When Laura snapped her head up to stare at her daughter, Olivia immediately stopped in her tracks feeling her mother’s eyes almost stinging her skin.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Olivia tilted her head to the side, wondering why the blonde woman appeared distraught.

Laura wanted to hold the phone up but felt a protectiveness come over her not wanting to gain the attention of the two men in the house, even though Billy already had his body turned sideways at the exchange.

“Olivia, what is this?” Laura whispered, pointing at the phone.

It didn’t dawn on Olivia right away what her mother could be possibly be talking about, in a sense she tried to forget but when she looked back at her art pieces, once she completed them in her sketch book, she realized unconsciously it’s not something you can just forget.

Laura swiped against Olivia’s phone at each picture making Olivia sharply turn her head to the side and swallow the lump that formed in her throat.

“Who’s in these images, Olivia?!” Laura didn’t mean to raise her voice, but she wanted answers.

Now she gained the attention of Jordan who broke his eyes away from the commercial playing on the television.

Olivia chewed on her chapped lips not wanting to say anything. She didn’t want anyone else adding this to their list of things to worry about when it came to her. It was ironic really, Olivia Baker was always involving herself in everyone else’s issues but pushed her own pain to the side. She vowed with Spencer that they would start to only worry about themselves this senior year and yet Olivia seemed to not do that. In a sense…she going to therapy, she was picking back up her old hobby to ease her mind but the huge problem about this was she wasn’t talking about it. To anyone.

“Olivia—

Laura seemed to take a different approach, using what she learned in family therapy to level her tone and to not make her daughter feel cornered. However she was highly concerned and she wanted to hear what she already suspected from these pictures. She kept her eyes trained on Olivia who reached out to the island to balance herself, now feeling the room spin. Laura pushed the bar stool back and went to Olivia’s aid but she flinched, ripping her body away from her mother which made Laura let out a small sob.

“What’s going on?” Billy asked, now getting to his feet.

Laura didn’t want to show Billy the pictures but with the way she was clutching Olivia’s phone to her chest made the man snatch the phone from his wife’s grasp.

Billy on the other hand was furious. He rubbed at his face and Olivia didn’t want to see the expression on his face so she kept her back to the both of them now. It was when Jordan towered over Olivia, hoping that he could get an answer out of her opposed to what their parents were failing to do, he didn’t touch her but he paid close attention to the way she was acting right now and how his father was trying not to scream in the kitchen.

Something was wrong. Jordan could feel it more than sense it from what his parents were demonstrating, and yeah they were twins but they haven’t radiated the same energy off the other since they were kids. And who’s to know that might have just been in their heads like many people tried to argue but Jordan and Olivia were extremely close as kids, they shared a whole womb together so they had to share more connections outside in the world too? Their bond was much stronger as children but they were making their way back to each other as they got older. Yes they were their own people but it’s undeniable if they said energy was never a factor in their relationship as twins.

Jordan was calm as he peered down into Olivia’s for eyes, patient, waiting for her to say what she willing to say. Everything was silent to her ears, Olivia blocked out Billy wheezing out his frustrations as he crouched down in front of the island and Laura’s cries.

Olivia felt so small.

Jordan knew before Spencer said something that Olivia was acting a little off. He tried to be better as a brother in paying attention to her as she always did for him. He was worried when she disappeared off with some kid named after Shakespeare that Simone used to spend summer’s with as a kid. Sure Simone said he and his friends were good people but they were also a year or two older, settling into the toxic part of college life. He was the last one with Olivia after they watched some performances with Spencer and Simone already on the dance floor with other people.

“You let Liv go off with these people we don’t even know?” Jordan remembers Spencer saying to him after he got off the dance floor.

Jordan didn’t like how Spencer said this to him so he replied back with, “you were just on the dance floor with someone you don’t know. None of us control my sister, Spence. She’s allowed to hang out with whoever she wants. Plus Simone says Oscar is good people.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know that man,” Spencer tried to come correct, “Simone said she only spent summers with othello,” He informed Jordan of the guy’s actual name which Jordan sucked his teeth at, “so that doesn’t mean she really knows him all that well either.”

“Are you trying to question my girl, right now?” Jordan furrowed his brows, always looking for a fight due to his impulsiveness.

Spencer raised his brows, “I’m not questioning nothing. I’m just stating the obvious. We don’t know nobody out here, we not from here. We just have to be smarter is all I’m sayin’.”

Jordan didn’t like to be wrong but he felt like he wasn’t completely wrong? Sure his big brother instincts should have kicked in stronger but he was too focused on some corny dude pushing up on Simone. That was a little foul now that he thought back on it, Olivia should have been just as important—and she is. Which is why he wanted to do right in the present.

He noticed before Layla pointed out a couple of times that Olivia was bringing out the darker fashion choices and that it was nice to see sometimes, since she “did it so well.” He noticed before Simone told him to tell Olivia that she would be over to help her straighten the back of her hair out and he noticed that she was wearing eyeliner in her waterline again.

He noticed the long showers and staying outside in the rain, he noticed she’s been slacking on her podcast and scribbling in her old sketch book. He noticed her listening to nothing but Fiona Apple, Billie Holiday, old Alicia Keys songs, and Fefe Dobson instead of her usual song choices like: Aaliyah, Jorja Smith, Billie Eilish, H.E.R., Doja Cat, and Mereba. He even fought with himself at night standing outside her closed door to say something. He did remember asking her one night at dinner, which she barely ate, if she was okay and with a smile that didn’t reach her rimmed eyes…she said she was.

To Olivia it was silent as she admitted her truth about what happened to her in Atlanta, but to the rest of the Baker’s it was loud and clear. Over the course of three weeks, she gathered it all. The memories came back when they needed to and the fact that he reached out to her twice since she returned home was appalling. Olivia didn’t know if it was the guilt—that might have been a stretch…she didn’t know the piece of shit of a person at all, the audacity, or the curiosity on his part to see what she was going to do about this. If anything. She gave no information away in the DM’s, in fact she barely sent anything back.

There was no weight that lifted from her chest as she spoke her secret into the air, she still felt pain that she tried to numb down but it just felt like another burden she inflicted on her loved ones and she hated that idea. That she caused this. Most days she felt numb but she knew anger was brewing along the horizon.

Jordan went to Olivia who stepped back, which felt like Jordan just got punched in the gut. And he’s taken a lot of hits before in his eighteen years of life but this one might have been the worse blow he’s experienced. And that’s coming from a guy still healing from a concussion.

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry, Liv I—.” She heard Her twin say to her but it sounded like she was under water.

Life has been that way for awhile now, if you truly asked her.

‘I don’t want pitty.’ Her inner thoughts hissed. That was last thing she wanted. She was now coming to terms that she wanted this emptiness to vanish, if that was what this even was. She wanted to be back to where she was or at least as a kid where she didn’t have to worry about a damn thing. She didn’t want to endure what she’s been feeling since she entered her teenage years. Olivia Baker wanted so much more out of this life but lately it seems as if her purpose was to only be handed out shitty lessons instead.

What lesson was this? To showcase how the world can take away anything it wanted and leave you to deal or not deal with the aftermath afterwards?

The anger was indeed setting in.

Olivia didn’t realize that eventually Jordan put his arms around her and she gripped onto him for dare life. Her body didn’t shrink into itself like it commonly did weeks after what happened whenever someone touched her.

Her parents kept their distance picking up on the fact that she didn’t want to be touched but her other half held onto her and that seemed to be a step in the right direction for now. Instead Billy and Laura held onto each other too, their heads whirling around with how to further provide the best possible care for their daughter.

#all american #all american imagine #all american fanfiction #all american cw #Olivia Baker #Olivia Baker x reader #Jordan baker #Jordan Baker x reader #Billy baker #laura baker #spencer james #Simone hicks #Layla keating

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temilyrights · 4 years ago

Text

ask her out

Summary: Alex Blake x Fem!Reader. Your crush on Alex is getting out of hand, so the team calls you out on it and tries to convince you to ask her out.

A/N: Hello! This is my first time writing for Alex, but I’ve been rewatching season 8 and completely feel in love with her all over again. I definitely will continue writing for her if people are interested. As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated :) Enjoy!

Fluff, light angst, and a little nsfw/smutty. James doesn’t exist in this fic but she’s still referred to as Blake because I forgot her maiden name was Miller.

Alex’s eyes flick to you as you step into the room, the door shuts behind you with a click that earns the attention of the students in the hall. Her speech doesn’t falter, drawing back the students to her lecture, she smiles at you though, subtlety telling you she’d be done in a few minutes.

You lean back against the wall and watch. This was the first time you’d seen her teach. You didn’t get the art of linguistics like she did, but you couldn’t help but be captivated by the passion in which she taught. She looked comfortable, confident, and relaxed. It was nice to see. At work there tended to be a constant furrow of her brows due to the stress of the cases, but here, none of that was present.

You didn’t want to admit it, but it was attractive. The way she controlled the room and quizzed her students with such confidence...Your schoolgirl crush had been active since the first time you met her but by god, this was going to spin it out of control.

“Okay, that’s all for today. I’ll see you next week.”

The students quickly pack up their stuff, the rustle of paper and bags along with the screeching of chairs filling the room. A few of them shoot you interested looks as they exit, their eyes falling to the gun strapped to your waist. You don’t pay them much attention as you push yourself off the wall and make your way to where Alex is packing up her own things.

“You were early.” She says in way of greeting. You lean against the table beside her and shrug.

“Wanted to finally see the legendary Dr Blake in action.”

She shakes her head with a small laugh, slipping the last papers into her bag before putting it onto her shoulder. She looks at your gun and arches her brow. “And you couldn’t leave that in your car?”

“Habit.” You shrug. You really hadn’t thought much about it to be honest, but the half-smile on her lips makes you happy you were wearing it. You liked making her smile.

“Right.” You stand up properly and you fall in step with her as you make your way out of the room and down the corridors towards your car. “So, what did you think?”

You tilt your head, a guilty smile crossing your lips. “Still not my thing, but if I was going to attend a linguistics lecture, you’d definitely be the tutor I’d pick.” oh my god were you flirting?

She looks at you with interest, humour in her eyes as she hums. “Well, there’s still time.”

Your cheeks tinge pink and you quickly avert your gaze, laughing lightly to try and cover up your reaction. Luckily, you’re at your car now, so you unlock the doors and slide in and by the time Alex has moved to get in the other side your cheeks are back to their normal colour.

“Thank you for this again.” She says as you strap your seatbelt on and put the keys into the ignition.

“It’s not a problem.” You smile. Her car had broken down a week ago and she’d been stuck relying on the subway and cabs to get around. It sucked, especially when she had days that switched between lecturing and at the BAU, so you’d ended up offering to give her lifts. She’d tried to refuse but you knew how frazzled she’d been every time she arrived. She’d eventually relented and accepted your offer to pick her up from Georgetown.

“Still, you didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

Alex smiles, her eyes soft. The way your heart thumps in your chest has you scrambling for a change in conversation.

“Plus, it’s not for free.” She arches a brow as you smirk. “I want coffee and you’re buying.”

She breaks out into laughter as you pull out and onto the road.

---

After that, it becomes harder to ignore the butterflies in your stomach every time you see her. You felt ridiculous for letting the feelings take control, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes always travelled to where she was in the room. Her desk being opposite yours did not help.

It’s about two weeks later after she’s left for a class (she finally had her car back) that Spencer hesitantly approaches your desk. You look up at him with a frown, noticing the way his fingers were drumming against his leg.

“Is everything okay with you and Alex?” He asks sadness and concern deep in his voice. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

“You keep sending her these sad looks, and you won’t stop watching her. Do you not trust her? Did something happen?” He pressures, a slight dread to his tone. You knew how important Alex was to him, the idea that something was wrong would not do him good.

“Of course, I trust her. Nothing has happened. I promise.” You look around the room to make sure no one else is listening. JJ’s lips are sitting in a subtle smirk, but her eyes remain attached to the paperwork in front of her. She was obviously listening, and you didn’t know whether to be grateful or not that she hadn't joined the conversation. You look back to Spencer who’s frowning.

“Then why do you keep staring at her?”

“I don’t.” You try to refuse, but your cheeks are already turning pink.

“You do. When we’re in here working your eyes flick to her roughly every seven minutes.”

“Seven minutes? No that’s ridiculous.” oh god. oh god. oh god.

“Hers is about every 10. Although last Tuesday it nearly halved in time. She never looks sad though whereas you do.”

“Alex doesn’t stare at me.”

JJ chuckles from her desk, and finally stands up and makes her way over. “Game is over Y/N. You’ve been called out.”

“Game?” Spencer frowns, “What game?”

“The game is which both Y/N and Blake pretend they don’t have a thing for each other.”

“I don’t have a thing for Alex.” You bristle, but your cheeks betray you as they turn pink.

“Right, uh-huh.” JJ laughs.

Spencer’s eyes widen as the realisation hits him. “Oh.” He seems to turn an almost pale shade of green, obviously thinking about the woman who was practically a mother figure to him with someone wasn’t the nicest thing. “Well, uh, I think she feels the same.”

You scoff, “No she doesn’t because there isn’t a thing.”

Spencer smiles genuinely, “Last Tuesday, you wore a shirt that was a lower cut than normal. That was the day Alex wouldn’t stop staring at you. I didn’t make the connection until now. If she’s getting coffee, she’ll almost always offer to get you some too. On the jet, after a bad case, you always sit next to her because she makes you feel safe and relaxed. You listen to her talk about linguistics even though you find it boring. You both are constantly aware when the other is in the room. When-”

“Okay, okay, okay!” You shout, cutting off his ramble. “You win. There may be some feelings but it’s just a crush and I’ll get over it.”

“Or you could just ask her out?” JJ laughs.

You shake your head, “No. We work together. It would be unprofessional, and really uncomfortable for everyone if it didn’t work out. Plus, just because she looks at me occasionally doesn’t mean she likes me like that.”

You did silently feel proud that Alex hadn’t been able to stop looking at you when you wore that shirt, but you could find someone attractive without wanting to date them so really it didn’t mean anything.

“You smile more when she’s around. You should ask her out.” Spencer says, rocking on the balls of his feet slightly.

You sigh and shake your head, but he continues before you can speak. “We should tell the people we care about that we care about them. You both deserve to be happy.” A shadow crosses his face before he pulls a smile back to his lips.

JJ clears her throat, “Spence is right. Ask her out.”

You look between them for a moment and then release a long dramatic sigh, “Fine. Okay. I’ll do it.”

JJ claps her hand while Spencer smiles. You can only groan.

---

The next morning the team is called to Colorado for a case. JJ keeps sending you looks, and Derek won’t stop smirking which means he knows and by extension, Penelope probably too (though she’s yet to say anything). She’s terrible at keeping secrets which means your days are numbered until Alex finds out.

“Why do they keep looking at you?” Alex asks quietly from beside you on the jet. You shoot JJ a glare and turn to face Alex. Your heart immediately starts pounding in your chest when you realise just how close her face is to yours. You clear your throat as you turn away.

“Who knows.” You shrug, burying your face into the book in your hands. Alex watches you for a moment longer before turning back to her own book.

You glare at JJ again over the top of your book and Alex pretends not to notice.

The second the jet hits the floor you’re in case mode. It’s not until the evening that you finally get to sit down properly. Everyone’s still at the police station waiting for the dinner that Rossi and Derek had gone to collect.

You collapse into a chair and yawn, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“Here,” Alex says as she approaches, holding out a fresh cup of coffee.

“You’re a godsend, Alexandra Blake.” You release a satisfied sigh as you accept the cup and take a sip. Alex moves to sit in the chair beside you arching her brow.

“Alexandra, huh? No one has called me that in a long time.”

You shrug, “It’s a pretty name.”

“It means-”

“Defender of Mankind.” You cut her off and enjoy the impressed look she sends you. “Did my research.”

“I’m proud.”

You roll your eyes, “Please, looking up a few name meanings isn’t exactly difficult, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“My hopes are officially low, don’t you worry.” She smirks and takes a sip of her own coffee before looking back at you. “What other names did you look up?”

“Mine and the rest of the teams. Couldn’t have you thinking you're special.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She holds your gaze, and it isn’t until JJ enters the room saying something about the food being here that she looks away.

---

The case only lasts a few days and before you know it, you’re back on the jet on your way back to Quantico.

Penelope’s waiting in the squad room, practically jumping on her feet as she welcomes you all. Her eyes flick between you and Alex with absolutely no subtlety and you have to suppress a sigh.

She follows you to your desk and you pray she doesn’t question you with Alex still in the room.

“So?” She asks as you take a seat at your desk. She’s trying to talk quietly but in Garcia’s terms, that’s just normal volume. You look at Alex who’s standing by JJ’s desk, her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you with a slight furrow of her brows. You look back to Penelope.

“No.”

Penelope’s face drops, “Why did she say no? You’re amazing and wonderful and-”

“She didn’t say anything. I didn’t ask.” You turn back to your desk, busying yourself with papers that didn’t actually need your attention. You just wanted her to drop this before Alex’s suspicions that something was wrong were confirmed.

“Well, why not?” She moans.

You release a frustrated groan, “We were on a case, I couldn’t exactly ask her while standing over a dead body.”

“Obviously not, but there were evenings. You could have asked her over dinner or on the jet or literally any other time.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” You growl, dropping the papers to your desk and turning around to glare at Penelope.

“You said you would!”

“Seriously? Do any conversations stay private in this place?”

“Not when you have them in the squad room,” Alex says as she approaches, Penelope spins around her face frozen in a way that tells Alex she was definitely the topic of conversation. “Everything okay?” She focuses on you, her brows furrowed in concern and you have to look away.

“Yeah, it’s nothing. It’s late and I’m tired so I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You push yourself up from your desk, grabbing your bag and avoiding both their eyes as you hurry out of the room.

You’re nearly at the elevator when Alex catches up with you. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

You shake your head, your eyes not leaving the elevator as you wait for it to hurry up and arrive. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Can I give you a lift home?” Alex offers.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you though.”

“Please. You shouldn’t drive home if you’re that tired.” You meet her concerned gaze and after a long moment of consideration, you sigh.

“Okay. Sure.”

You expect her to start questioning you the second the doors close, but she doesn’t and you’re relieved. Instead, you both just talk like normal. The conversation comes to an end on the drive home though, and you fall into a comfortable silence. Your eyes remain fixed to the window instead of on her as you debate asking the question everyone wanted you to ask.

You frown when she drives past the turning to your house, “Hey, we just drove-”

“I know.” She cuts you off, eyes not drifting from the road. You release a resigned sigh and sink back into the chair. It wouldn’t do any good to argue with her.

You’re only half surprised when you arrive at her house. She parks and turns off the ignition without a word, and you follow her lead as you make your way into her house. You take your shoes and coat off just as she does and follow her through to her kitchen.

“Tea?”

“Sure.” You agree, leaning back against the counter as she begins making it. It’s silent between you and her, the only sound is the whirring of the kettle and the nervous tapping of your fingers against your arm.

“Here you go.” She passes you the cup before leaning back on the island counter opposite you.

“Thank you.” You take a sip and hum, “Is this from Emily’s tea of the month thing?”

“Yes, Penelope gives me some every time it arrives. This one is my favourite so far.”

You nod, not sure how else to respond. It’s silent for a moment before Alex speaks. “So, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

You sigh, “It’s just the team trying to get involved in stuff that isn’t any of their business, and you know them, Penelope especially, the second they get their hands on a bit of gossip…” You roll your eyes.

“The bureau thrives off it.” She places her cup of tea down on the counter beside her before crossing her arms and looking at you with a thoughtful expression, “You didn’t quite answer my question though. This gossip, it’s about us, right?”

Her tone leaves no room for argument. You sigh and place your own cup on the side. There was no point in lying to her, and you didn’t want to. “Spencer came to me a few days ago because he thought that we weren’t getting along.”

She frowns, “That wouldn’t cause this amount of gossip because it’s obviously not true. Why would he think that?”

“I know.” You sigh, rubbing at your neck and not quite meeting her eyes. “Uh, so, apparently I look at you a lot and he thought that that meant I didn’t trust you or we’d had an argument or something. I explained that wasn’t the case, but he insisted something must be wrong and then JJ was there and teasing me about it all and it all spiralled out of control and before I knew it, I was agreeing to something that I didn’t want to agree to, not because I didn’t want to ask, but because I was scared that if I do ask that it’ll change things or ruin things and I don’t want-”

“Y/N,”

“-that to happen. I knew you’d find out anyway though, I’m terrible at lying and Penelope can’t keep a secret to save her life and you’re an amazing profiler and I just don’t want to ruin things between us just because I have a giant crush on you and am scared to ask you out on a date. I understand if you’re uncomfortable now.”

“Y/N, honey, look at me.” She comes closer, her hand touching your chin to try and get you to lift your head. You resist. “Please.”

The plea gets you to lift your head. She’s smiling and your heart flutters.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” You can only nod and then she’s gripping your neck and pulling you in. The first brush of her lips has your heart pounding, and then there’s another and another and another and your hands grip onto her blazer and her fingers brush the hair at the base of your head and all you can breathe, and smell is her and it’s amazing.

She pulls back all too soon, and you make a small noise of protest which has her smirking. Your cheeks are flushed and both of you are breathing a little deeply. Her hand leaves your neck to wrap around your waist.

“W-why?”

“For a profiler, you suck at reading the cues when someone is interested in you.”

“I don’t, I just didn’t want to assume or-”

“Y/N, my first case in Seattle, one of the detectives spent the whole case trying to flirt with you and you didn’t see it.”

“She was just being friendly.”

“Right because it would be totally normal for me to tell Dave he has really pretty eyes while touching his arm.”

“I-fine. Okay.” You pout. Alex suppresses her smile by biting on her lip and your eyes immediately zero in on the action. Your tongue swipes over your lips. “I need you to kiss me again.”

Her own tongue swipes over her lips before she dips her head, her nose brushes against yours. Her breath hitting your lips. “I think it’s your turn.”

You take a heavy breath as your hand slides up to grip her neck. Your eyes flick to hers, enjoying her darkened gaze before you close the final bit of distance between you. There’s none of the hesitancy of last time, just kisses that quickly heat up as your hands move to grip at her hair and she pushes you back into the counter.

Her leg slides between yours causing a whine to escape your lips. Alex wastes no time in taking control of the kiss, her tongue sweeping against yours as you begin to squirm against her knee.

“Alex.” You moan as her lips begin to leave a trail of kisses down your neck. “Please, Alex.”

“Please what?”

“I-uh, oh.” You groan as her teeth scrape your neck and her hand begins to make its way under your shirt.

“Use your words.” She smirks.

“Bed. Please.”

“It’s not a sentence, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

You hum as she captures your lips in a toe-curling kiss before completely stepping away. You feel lost without the contact.

“Come on honey, follow me.”

You don’t need to be told twice as you quickly hurry after her, grabbing her hand and twisting her back into you before kissing her deeply. It’s her time to moan against your lips.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Follow me.” You smirk, stepping away before quickly making your way to her bedroom as Alex follows behind you.

#alex blake x reader #alex blake #criminal minds #cm #reader-insert #fanfiction #writing #ask her out #regal-roni

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kuiperblog · 4 years ago

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Deathloop sure is a video game

Every October, there's pop-up entertainment venues like "haunted houses" (or other haunted attractions) that attempt to artificially recreate the motifs common in horror movies, complete with live actors who are dressed as vampires or zombies or serial killers or whatever who leap out and scare the guests who squeal in delight, if only because it gives them an excuse to tightly cling to their partner. It's more exciting than going to a horror movie, because it's a more tactile experience, so you're mostly just there to experience the various horror motifs without being concerned about a plot.

The thing is, there are actual horror movies that are set in haunted attractions. And while this does make for some fun early reveals (like when the teenagers laugh at the knife-wielding man who they assume is an actor and part of the attraction, only to realize that he's actually a homicidal madman), the very idea of a horror movie set in a haunted house kind of feels like cheating. Haunted attractions are, in a way, a simulacrum of a horror movie, which I suppose is an odd thing to say considering that haunted attractions are real and the events in horror movies are not, but I think that is the main level on which most haunted attractions are designed: a haunted attraction is a "horror movie IRL," so to then make that the setting of your horror movie “horror movie IRL but in a movie” is like a simulacrum of a simulacrum. It’s shortcutting past the part where you would ordinarily come up with some kind of lore-based explanation for why the teenagers are hanging out in a creepy house and why there’s a demented killer or vampires or whatever who are trying to kill them.

I sort of feel this way about one of the first levels I played in Deathloop, which is a video game both in medium and form. It's a bit like Dishonored (one of Arkane's earlier titles) in the sense that the core objectives boil down to identifying an assassination target, and hunting them down in their mansion or laboratory or whatever. The first target I assassinated was a fellow by the name of Charlie Montague, who is obsessed with games, and has populated a section of the world where you can speed-run an obstacle course to be rewarded with a gun, because this is a first-person shooter video game that is set on murder island, where everyone's favorite hobby is killing each other because they’re in a timeloop where everyone will revive the next day. However, when I found Charlie Montague, he was in the middle of a LARP session. This is literally how the game describes it: Charlie is hosting a game where he invites guests to participate in a game somewhat akin to a murder mystery, or maybe more like Among Us. When I arrived, Charlie announced over the loudspeaker to all of his guests that the killer monster (me) had arrived, and the objective was now for them to hunt me down. (I, for my part, did my best to avoid the guests, but I had to gun down the entire party before finally getting to Charlie at the top floor.)

So, this is a video game level that felt very much like a video game level. Which I don't really mean as a knock against it -- it was a fun environment, I had fun hunting down the game designer Charlie Montague and murdering his LARPing buddies, and the environment was set up in a way that made the confrontation with Charlie himself interesting, since Charlie possesses the blink power that lets him teleport across gaps and between floors. But it kind of feels like cheating to have a video game level where the setting premise is, as explained by the game's fiction, literally a game created by a game designer (as opposed to trying to sell you on the idea that the level you're traipsing through is just some rich dude's mansion, or a military base, or whatever). It is the video game equivalent of setting your horror movie in a haunted house attraction.

As an Arkane Studios fan (who started with 2006's Dark Messiah of Might and Magic, and counts Dishonored among my personal top 10 games of all time), I quite enjoyed Deathloop. But it is by far the most video game video game that they've ever released.

Games like Dishonored and Prey (2017) exist in what is sometimes described as the "immersive sim" genre, where there's a big emphasis on player choice and giving the players a bunch of tools to approach objectives without giving them a prescribed route through the game. Dishonored pushes you in the direction of being stealthy and quiet (with a "chaos" system that causes the world to become more desolate if you kill too many enemies in each level), but there are many routes through the levels -- and sometimes, you'll find your way to an objective through what feels like it isn't a prescribed "route" at all. The objectives are often quite simple -- "infiltrate, kill a dude, exfiltrate" -- but a level that could be completed in just a few minutes might take an hour to complete the first time you play it as you spend time scoping out the target, gradually getting a feel for the environment and learning which parts of the level have lots of enemies and which parts are safe and easy to stealth your way through.

The immersive sim's emphasis on carving your own way through levels leads to a phenomenon where a lot of the progression that you make is "meta" progression that exists entirely outside of your avatar -- you might spend an hour prowling around a level, and your character hasn't gotten any stronger (apart from maybe finding a few optional collectibles), but you as a player have "leveled up" to the point that you now know the level like the back of your hand, which is how you have people who spend hours exploring a level in Hitman so that they can do a perfect 5-minute speedrun of that level.

Sometimes, this sense of "meta-progression" is further emphasized by making some of the collectibles information that you as a player can store. I remember a part in Dishonored where I found a locked safe, and I had to root around the game environment and find the code to the safe before I could come back and get the goodie inside. But if I wanted to, I could write that number down so that on any subsequent playthrough, I could just go right to the safe and open it right away -- which feels a bit like cheating, but it's no less cheating than sprinting through a specific route through a level because I know from previous playthroughs that the path I'm taking has no guards.

Deathloop isn't quite like that: the game is filled with combinations and whatnot (in one "puzzle" I had to insert specifically-labeled tapes into a machine in a specific order), but all of these are generated randomly: you can't take that information with you across playthroughs, and you can't look the number up in a walkthrough like some older immersive sims would let you do. But Deathloop takes this meta progression and makes it actual progression: it's a time-loop story, and your character (Colt) remembers everything that he encounters across playthrough, so when you find the combination to a door, Colt will make a mental note of it (no need to bust out your pen and paper), and the next time you come to a locked door that requires that combination, you don't even have to punch in the numbers: just hold the triangle button on your Playstation controller and Colt will automatically punch in the numbers that he learned during an earlier loop.

Deathloop is full of little things like this that, on first glance, almost just feel like QoL improvements. But there's something that feels very different about how things are done in Deathloop: in gameplay terms, it basically boils down to, "Go to this place and press square to read the password, then go to this other place and unlock the door," which is really not that different from "go to this place and press square to pick up the key, then go to this other place to unlock the door." The "passwords" that exist throughout this game are basically just keys that Colt can store in his brain and take with him whenever you advance to the next loop.

And to be clear, that's not necessarily a *bad* thing. In fact, immersive sims are kind of a niche genre that don't have a very big audience, so anything that helps streamline and make it more like, well, what you'd expect from a "video game," is probably going to make the game accessible to a lot more people. And they streamline a *lot* in this game. The game is all about planning the "perfect loop" where you manage to kill the 8 big baddies in a single day, and everything before that point is just preparing for that final loop. Even though that seems like an abstract thing that might require you to hold a bunch of disparate information in your head, the game is actually *really* good at making it so that Colt is already mentally mapping out the game plan as you go, to the point where you can just go into the quest book, select a thread, and then just follow the waypoints. Colt is planning for the "perfect loop" and collecting all the information he needs (including passwords, and memorizing information about how to get certain bosses to go to certain areas where they'll be vulnerable), and Colt is so good at remembering these things that the player never has to: you can play the entire game from start to finish just by traveling from waypoint to waypoint and stealthing or shooting your way past anything that stands in your way.

That is, of course, incredibly reductive. The process of getting from point A to point B in Deathloop is fun for the same reason that getting from point A to point B is fun in any other game. The guns feel good to shoot, the levels are interesting to navigate, and the game lets you earn the ability to take certain pieces of gear with you between loops so it always feels like there's forward progression. But I think that there's a critical thing that's missing:

Immersive sims aren't just about getting from point A to point B. Before you can get to point B, you have to discover where point B is. *Where* in this mansion is the assassination target? Better spend some time skulking around and listening to his staff gossip about his daily habits so you know which parts of the mansion he's likely to appear in. Oh wait, I don't want to just get in the same room with this guy, I want to get myself in the same room with him *when he's not surrounded by his guards*. How do I do that? Better do some more snooping. And in a sense, Deathloop *sort* of does this. Before you can follow the waypoint objective marker to your target, you have to find out where they are. But the "find out where they are" is often, "follow this *other* waypoint objective marker to find the slip of paper that tells you where they're going to be, at which point you can follow the waypoint objective marker to their exact location!"

And to be fair to Deathloop, it's not *all* like that. There are some times where the game sort of just points you in the right direction and leaves you to figure it out, like one dude who has hosted a masquerade party where he and his guests are all wearing the same masks, and so you have to figure out a way to ferret him out. (Or you can just murder everyone at the party to figure it out by process of elimination -- which is actually much easier said than done, because this is murder island and everybody is packing heat, and this is an exclusive party so his guests are the type of people who carry around heavy weapons.)

Another way that Deathloop takes the "meta progression" inherent to immersive sims and makes it explicit in-game progression is by having a time loop where you can encounter and kill the same targets over and over again. That's the kind of thing that tends to happen in immersive sims across multiple playthroughs -- Hitman doesn't *require* you to play each level multiple times, but you generally want to, because each level is filled with tons of different routes to explore and different ways to deal with each of the targets. But that's all on the player: it's not as if in the fiction of the Hitman universe, Agent 47 is repeatedly murdering a bunch of people who magically revive so that he can kill them again, whereas in Deathloop, that is very explicitly what is happening.

The thing is, because Deathloop is kind of designed with the assumption that you'll kill each target multiple times, the first time you encounter them and blow their head off, it doesn't feel like the grand emotional climax. In fact, in a way, it feels like the *start* of a relationship. "Goodbye, Charlie Montague. I hardly knew ye. But I'm sure I'll know you better by the third time I'm leaving your LARPing session with that slab upgrade you're carrying." I feel like that robs the kills of some of their impact, and maybe that's just inherent to what kind of game this is: in Dishonored, you feel as though over the course of a level, you get to know your target as you snoop through their quarters, overhear what their staff have to say about them, read the journals of their rivals while looking for possible weaknesses, and so on. Because it's a stealth game, it makes sense to hide in the background and learn about their life. Stalking a character through a level while waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike can actually feel incredibly intimate, because as the eponymous Visible Man in Chuck Klosterman’s novel says, to truly know who someone is, you have to see them when they’re alone at home; their behavior anywhere else is just a performance.

But when I'm chasing down Charlie Montague with an SMG in one hand and a pistol in the other, the only thing I really know about him is what he's announcing over the loudspeaker. (I don't really remember exactly what he said, but the subtext is that he's mentally unstable, and he's obsessed with games.) And even though Charlie Montague was shouting at me what kind of person he said, I feel like I never really got to *know* him like I got to know some targets in Dishonored. In fact, the moments when I got to know Charlie best weren't when he was yelling at my over the loudspeaker as I ran through his level as Shooty McFPS guy, but the moments when I got to read his notes or chat correspondence (which is *entirely optional*, because even if I don't learn the relevant facts from Charlie Montague's notes, Cole will -- and he'll verbally narrate the cliffsnotes version of them as I'm headed to the next objective)

Despite feeling like a clear descendant of Arkane’s earlier titles, Deathloop feels neither "immersive" nor "sim." It's constantly doing things that remind me that I'm playing a video game -- which, to be clear, is not a bad thing! It’s fun to be Shooty McFPS guy without worrying about hiding guards bodies or making noise. More than any other Arkane Studios game, it does everything it can to minimize player frustration, whether that means feeling lost, or feeling like you're not making forward progress, or feeling like your progress is being gated by a huge spike in difficulty.

Dishonored is a game that rewards patience. This is one of my favorite things about it, but the fact that it rewards patience so generously means that it also *asks* patience of the player in order to get its best moments, which means that some players will never experience them. Deathloop asks very little from the player. Deathloop is a very "even" and "smooth" experience, but that's both for better and for worse. The lows aren't as low, but the highs aren't nearly as high. Deathloop is a good game. And it will probably be a "good game" to a greater number of people than Arkane's previous titles, but it didn’t have nearly the same impact on me.

Anyway, more than anything, my time with Deathloop has convinced that I should go back and play Prey (2017).

#deathloop #arkane studios #I apologize for such a long letter #dishonored #prey 2017 #immersive sim #video games

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years ago

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Let Me Get Close To You

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “wrong number” square. I sat down to write this a couple of days ago & just couldn’t stop - I hope you guys enjoy the cute little verse I created (that I’ll more than likely revisit soon!!). Here’s my bingo card - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 7K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Summary:

Stuck with the worst professor for Nuclear Science, Peter tries to vent his frustrations to Ned - only to send a desperate text message to Tony Stark, instead. When an immediate spark and so many things in common make it easy for Peter to fall further for the elegant genius, what’s the worst that could really happen?

Or: the one where Peter texts the wrong number & romance ensues.

Read on AO3 here.

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Fuming from a frustrating Nuclear Science class, Peter maturely stomped his way out of the engineering building. They were only two weeks into the semester and the old man already had Peter on edge. His major revolved around the class and his ability to get the most out of the information. The dinosaur that stood at the front of the lecture hall every day hadn’t had an original thought since the 90s and refused to see when others did. Much like every old white man, Dr. Milner’s ideas were the be all end all of a science that changed by the millisecond.

Still pretty new to campus after a late sophomore year transfer, Peter didn’t have many people to turn to that weren’t his nerdy and standoffish teammates on the Academic Decathlon team – most of those guys lived in a world a couple steps from the norm, happily keeping to themselves. Though Peter existed there eighty percent of the time, his need to be social and fill a space in the real world made it impossible to commit to that sort of isolation fully. Straddling the line made it difficult to exist on either side – Peter’s favorite pieces of himself were what kept people away, no matter the lifestyle.

With his mind so heavy with all sorts of negativity, Peter suddenly found himself homesick; he spent so much of his life trying to escape the streets of New York – so far from home now, Peter missed them desperately. Thinking about his tangible connection to his favorite urban wasteland, Peter pulled his phone out and hastily typed in Ned’s new number.

Peter Parker [1:23PM]: Hi, I hate it here. Peter Parker [1:24PM]: Dr. Milner is out to get free thinkers. I may not survive the next fourteen weeks.

Peter already felt a little better after typing the words – the mere ability to get one of his many worries off his chest did wonders. Until his phone pinged with a new text message notification, of course.

Nimble fingers pulled the phone from his pocket, his eyes carelessly looking over the screen as it unlocked. Expecting to see Ned’s name there, Peter almost threw the phone to the ground when Siri’s suggestion registered.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:26PM]: Hi stranger! I think this was meant for someone else, but I too think Dr. Milner is out to squash any new idea that doesn’t fit the mold. In his forty-year career, he hasn’t changed a bit.

Another text message was below it, but Peter forced himself to stop reading – his heart felt like it might beat out of his chest already, too much excitement at once couldn’t be good. Out of all the numbers he could’ve accidentally typed, Tony Stark, New York’s genius and resident beauty, Peter’s secret (though not so much) crush, ended up on the other side of the line. The unbelievability of the idea made Peter consider a well thought out prank. Then again, how did any of his fellow classmates know Tony Stark’s personal number?

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter made himself look at the second text message waiting unread.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:27PM]: I’m not sure how you got this number, but I sincerely hope you make it out alive. If you’re in Milner’s class, you’re on the Nuclear track, which means you must be smart. Trust me, the world needs your future contributions, whatever they might be.

Peter gripped the phone a little harder after reading through the second message over and over again. He let his eyes take in each of the words, wondering, if it really was Tony Stark, how anyone ever survived talking to him. In so few sentences, Peter already felt discombobulated, both more confident and turned around than just seconds before. Aside from his infatuation with the man, Peter understood Tony Stark’s contributions to the technology community and the world at large more than most.

It took him a few minutes to convince himself to text back – every time he tried to type something, his fingers froze just centimeters above the screen. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask to make sure he wasn’t getting catfished. Instead, Peter took the direct route, his courage obviously all or nothing in the face of something as big as an accidental interaction with Tony Stark.

Peter Parker [1:35PM]: Holy crap – excuse me for the bluntness, but is this really Tony Stark? Siri doesn’t often get things wrong, especially since I souped her up. But I’m sure you can understand the apprehension. Peter Parker [1:37PM]: Would you be up for answering a few questions just to make sure?

The tip of his finger tapped against the screen impatiently after he hit the send button, his nerves and the not-so-subtle excitement were barely contained under the surface of his skin. He couldn’t remember a time where feeling alive was so prominent.

A smile slipped across his lips when, a moment later, three consecutive texts vibrated Peter’s phone in succession.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:40PM]: You souped up Siri? Steve Jobs is probably turning over in his grave right now. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:41PM]: I think I’m the one that should be asking the questions, don’t you think? How did you even get this number, Peter Parker? It’s a private line. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:42PM]: I am, though – Tony Stark, I mean.

Peter Parker [1:45PM]: Reconfiguring tech is kind of my thing. I used to dumpster dive in high school – you’d be surprised by the cool pieces of technology people put in their trash. Peter Parker [1:46PM]: Oh, bringing out the big guns – I’m happy to see Siri without my latest addition works for others, too. Peter Parker [1:47PM]: It was an accident, sending those first texts to you. My friend in New York just started a new job that came with a paid phone. I still haven’t saved the number. You are one off from him. Peter Parker [1:48PM]: Alright, Tony Stark. Tell me what campus I’m on.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:53PM]: I’m not surprised by anything human beings do, especially in New York City. Throwing out a perfectly good iPod is certainly not the weirdest thing I’ve heard of. Did you make anything interesting in your trash conversion adventures? Maybe – Tony Stark [1:54PM]: You talk a big game, Mr. Parker. Can you walk the walk, too? Maybe – Tony Stark [1:55PM]: He must be on my payroll, then. The bank of numbers my employees have come from my personal network. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:57PM]: That’s an easy one. You’re at MIT – Milner was there when I was a student. The only thing that’s probably different between then and now is the amount of hair the old bag has.

Peter Parker [2:01PM]: You’re not wrong, Mr. Stark. I made things that helped me be self-sufficient. I grew up really poor and couldn’t afford the things everyone else had – so I figured out how all the tech worked and made my own. I’ve been using a ten-year-old iPhone for ages. Peter Parker [2:03PM]: You bet. Are you challenging me? Peter Parker [2:04PM]: He is, actually. He started in an entry level position two weeks ago. Peter Parker [2:06PM]: It’s gross, isn’t it? I’m glad we’ve moved past projectors in the classroom – the hair on his hand would make for a distracting shadow. Peter Parker [2:07PM]: Okay, okay. I think I’m convinced. One more test, though – send me a picture.

Maybe – Tony Stark [2:14PM]: Oh boy, none of that Mr. Stark shit. As far as you’re concerned, I’m Tony. Only Tony. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:15PM]: You made your own. That’s – impressive. I’m impressed and more than a little curious. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:17PM]: Challenging you, no. Enticing you, yes. I’m visiting Cambridge to do a guest lecture series next week. Come see what Stark Industries is up to – I’d love to hear what you think. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:18PM]: It was as bad as you think. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:20PM]: Okay, Peter Parker. [IMAGE ATTACHED]

A gasp of shock left Peter’s mouth when he opened the last text to find a smirking Tony Stark looking right at him. To prove the time and date, Tony held up the New York Times, his free hand pointing to the headline Peter read on his phone earlier that morning. After the shock of actually talking to Tony Stark wore off, Peter let himself take in the picture and all of its details.

Tony’s desk was largely visible in the shot – pens and stacks of paper littered the surface, a few rogue pieces of tech ready to be fiddled with acted as paper weights and grungy aesthetic. The man himself was breath taking – his glasses were a deep violet, offset beautifully by the crisp white shirt and black waistcoat covering Tony’s upper body. A light purple tie was loosely knotted at his throat, as if he fiddled with it while working just to keep his hands busy.

Without much thought, Peter saved the photo and added Tony to his contacts before replying – there was no reason not to trust the man, the spark in his shiny hazel eyes seemed to genuine and real to even question.

Peter Parker [2:25PM]: Only Tony, got it. Peter Parker [2:26PM]: Curiosity is good – keeps you fresh and on your toes. Peter Parker [2:27PM]: Oh, I see. You want a chance to impress me. I like that. Not sure what my opinion is going to do for you, but I’ll be happy to share it. Peter Parker [2:29PM]: Gross. Peter Parker [2:30PM]: I’m – you’re… Wow. You really are Tony Stark.

Tony Stark [2:37PM]: I think you’ll have no problems keeping me on my toes, Peter. Tony Stark [2:38PM]: I have a feeling your opinion is one that I’ll be very interested in. You’ve been nothing but blunt this entire conversation, I know I’m getting the real deal stuff. Tony Stark [2:40PM]: I am. I really am Tony Stark. Tony Stark [2:41PM]: It’s your turn, Peter Parker. What face belongs to that beautiful brain of yours?

Forcing himself to breath, Peter looked around the room for the best spot to return the favor. The bed was a hard no, he didn’t want to send the wrong vibe to a person who could easily have whomever they wanted. His desk was small, but meticulously organized – his study materials open and ready for a night of reviewing the only thing obscuring the surface. It was obvious Tony appreciated his brain, it seemed pertinent to take advantage.

After a few attempts, Peter found the perfect angle to catch the light in his eyes, making them shine brightly in the camera. He thanked the clothing gods that he chose a well fitted three-button Henley in his haste to get out the door that morning. The feeling of satisfaction was new, but not unwelcome – he wanted to send Tony the photo; for once, he knew it would impress.

Peter Parker [2:55PM]: Keeping implies longevity. Are you planning on sticking around? Peter Parker [2:56PM]: My brain to mouth filter runs at less than 10% at all times. It has brought me more trouble than shutting up ever would. Peter Parker [2:27PM]: You’re gorgeous. Violet is a nice color on you. Peter Parker [2:29PM]: What do you think? [IMAGE ATTACHED]

Tony Stark [ 2:37PM]: Yes. I think that’s the answer to that question. You’ve presented a puzzle I want to solve. Tony Stark [2:38PM]: Shutting up never got anyone anywhere. The noise we create is what shapes us. Tony Stark [2:40PM]: Thank you – I have a lot of it in my wardrobe. Tony Stark [2:44PM]: & you called me gorgeous; Peter Parker, you’re a stunner.

Peter Parker [2:51PM]: You’re a scientist, you do that for a living. What makes me so different? Peter Parker [2:52PM]: That’s a refreshing opinion. I like the way you think, Only Tony. Peter Parker [2:54PM]: That honestly doesn’t surprise me. Peter Parker [2:55PM]: Do you tell the person who made you blush that you’re blushing? I don’t remember that standard operating procedure.

Tony Stark [3:01PM]: My intrigue is of a personal nature only – the puzzle you pose is of a different sort. Usually, I think and think and think until I solve whatever the problem is. With you, I want to gather all the clues and take it apart piece by piece. Tony Stark [3:02PM]: That’s a little heavy for only knowing each other a couple of hours, but when you know, you know. Tony Stark [3:03PM]: Not usually, but I have a feeling you’re an exception to a lot of things, Peter Parker.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Peter continued to exchange flirty text messages back and forth with Tony – the mood stayed open and easy as the time passed. The older man helped Peter get through Nuclear Dynamics and three hours of decathlon practice. For all the brains Tony had, Peter was surprised to find humor and a bit of insecurity, too. Tony let himself go on tangents and make dad jokes that were a step away from being obscene.

That trend continued for the rest of the week and well into the weekend. By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, Peter knew Tony’s schedule, half the newest late-night discoveries, and the way Mr. Sweet Tooth took his sugary coffee. Though a line of attraction and want existed, Peter was happy to know Tony as a person without the ability to act on the obvious tension between them. And while he appreciated the wholistic way they were coming to know each other, Peter couldn’t wait to see Tony throughout the week, either.

The older man seemed to share his sentiment – the shrill notification of a text message received pulled Peter out of his thoughts.

Tony Stark [7:30PM]: Hey, Pete! I present at 5:30 tomorrow afternoon. Want to grab something to eat afterwards? Tony Stark [7:31PM]: I’m impatient to get back to Hogan’s and thought you might appreciate his culinary prowess.

Peter Parker [7:35PM]: Tony – this is the fourth time you’ve reminded me about your presentation. I’ll be there. For dinner, too. Peter Parker [7:36PM]: Culinary prowess; if it merits that title, I’m sure it’ll be worth it.

Tony Stark [7:42PM]: I know – I just get some performance anxiety. It helps to remind myself that you’re going to be there. Tony Stark [7:43PM]: It is. Hap is an old friend of mine. He left MIT to go make his restaurant dreams happen and has been stupidly happy ever since.

Peter Parker [7:47PM]: I get it – I’ll gladly be your security blanket, Tony. Peter Parker [7:48PM]: Something tells me there’s more to that story, but I’m sure you’ll tell me one day. I’m excited to try it. Should I look up the menu beforehand, or let it be a surprise?

Tony Stark [7:55PM]: I like the sound of that. I’ve pictured having you in my arms often. Tony Stark [7:57PM]: There’s always more to the story, Pete. Let it be a surprise! In fact, I’ll order for you to make sure you get the whole newbie experience.

Peter Parker [8:05PM]: I’ll boldly say you can have me in your arms as often as you like. Peter Parker [8:06PM]: The newbie experience – there hasn’t been a time in my life where that’s been a good thing. Peter Parker [8:07PM]: Yet. Surprisingly – I trust you.

The next day went by quickly – Peter took a quiz in Nuclear Science and dug into his other two classes to keep his mind focused on anything other than Tony’s imminent presence. His last class was a core history class, so he gladly tucked into the reading the professor let them loose to do. The chime of his alarm broke through Peter’s fog a couple pages from the end of his assignment. Though he liked to be ahead, Peter gladly took the extra few minutes to get himself together before heading to MIT’s presentation hall.

Decked out in his finest pair of black jeans, a blue denim short-sleeve button down, and solid black high-top Converse on his feet, Peter walked the few minutes it took to get back onto campus from his small apartment. Unsurprisingly, a line was formed out the door of students hoping to get into the presentation last minute. Tony told him earlier in the week that they waited to advertise his appearance until the a few hours before to stop the masses from flocking. To Peter, the time restriction seemed to only make it worse.

In Tony’s excitement to have Peter there, the older man set aside a ticket for him – instead of joining the line like he might’ve without Tony’s insistence, Peter walked straight into the cool auditorium, snagging a seat at the end of a row located dead center in the auditorium. The vantage point was perfect – Peter wouldn’t have any trouble catching Tony’s eye as he spoke. Grinning at his access to such a simple pleasure, Peter relaxed back into the seat, passing the time until Tony took the stage by watching the crowd flood in around him.

It wasn’t long before the lights were dimming and a sweaty, high ranking alumnus gave Tony Stark a mediocre welcome onto the stage. The crowd broke out into a cheer that more than made up for the old man’s subpar words. Tony timed his entrance perfectly; he walked out as the energy rose, the shift in the crowd’s tension working to enhance everyone’s excitement. Peter found himself glued to the man, who until that moment, existed entirely on the other side of the phone – he didn’t want to miss a single second of full-body absorption.

A black suit coat sat snuggly on Tony’s shoulders, a singular button keeping the sides closed. His dark hair was elegantly styled, the bed-head look enhancing the easy-going style Peter knew Tony strived for. The facial hair Peter came to truly appreciate over the last few days of texting drew attention to his sharp cheekbones. Tony seemed genuinely happy to be there if the beaming smile on his face said anything at all. With a few claps and the corniest joke, the older man got the crowd under control, proceeding onto his speech with an effortless transition.

As expected, Peter found himself interested from the very beginning. Tony’s new work on energy and its uses amongst transportation and city overhaul was ingenious – when things got up and running, New York’s power grid would run completely on sustainable energy. So many thoughts flashed across the front of Peter’s mind – he wondered if Tony would let him take a look at the blueprints. He might not have much to contribute, yet Peter understood the opportunity for learning and development when it presented itself.

By the end of Tony’s presentation, Peter was overjoyed to know that he wouldn’t need to feign interest in the topics Tony brought to the table. For a while, Stark Industries went through a slump of working on weapons and junky tech Peter found in the trash more often than he ever wanted to admit. It felt good to be excited about something new coming from the company – Tony Stark was the smartest person in his field, anything less than almost perfect just didn’t do the man and his ideas justice.

After fielding a lot more questions than Peter expected, Tony headed off the stage with a roar of applause – the genius wasn’t a household name for nothing. Smiling at the thought, Peter pulled his phone out; he got to see behind the curtain more than others – he felt a sudden surge of gratefulness at the fact. Every person around him would do anything for the privilege; taking that for granted just wouldn’t do.

Peter Parker [6:45PM]: You’re an incredible public speaker, Tony. Peter Parker [6:46PM]: Thanks for making me come!

Tony Stark [6:49PM]: How inappropriate of me is it to say that this isn’t the only time I plan to make you come?

Peter Parker [6:55PM]: Very, but it’s appreciated, nonetheless. I’ll meet you over by the Engineering building whenever you’re done trying to outrun your fans.

Tony Stark [7:00PM]: You’re fucking hilarious. I’ll meet you there in five.

True to his word, Tony snuck up behind Peter a few minutes later – soft palms that gave way to well-earned callouses pressed against Peter’s cheeks as Tony covered his eyes. The mere fact that Tony was there at all was surprise enough; the touches and softly whispered “Hello, Pete,” in his ear felt like more than enough to cause a coronary.

Shaking his head to clear it, Peter turned in Tony’s arms, a huge grin playing across his lips. With the way they were standing now, Peter’s chest was pressed delightfully against Tony’s – he felt each and every one of Tony’s inhales of oxygen and exhales of carbon dioxide that brought Peter’s attention to the firm muscles pressing and pulling the man’s abdomen. His breath caught when Tony palmed his cheek, their mouths mere inches apart. Despite not actually knowing each other, Peter felt comfortable in Tony’s embrace.

“Hey, Tony,” Peter finally replied after allowing his breath to mingle with Tony’s. As they stood there pressed together, neither could decipher where one started and the other began. The thought made his grin grow a little wider, the courage inside of him pulsing a little more boldly with life. “You were amazing up there.”

Tony remained perfectly still; his limbs seemingly frozen in a clench to keep Peter close to him. His grip was firm, both the hand on Peter’s hip and his late day stubbled cheek. Like the man himself, Tony’s touch left something behind that kept Peter on the hook, always seeking more. He half expected for Tony to lean in and slot their lips together – his deepest desires and tangible wants were starting to collide in such close proximity.

Instead, Peter’s smile was returned with quirked cheeks and bright hazel eyes. “You weren’t too bored?” Tony asked, his voice soft in the small space between them. His thumb swiped constantly across Peter’s cheek, the obvious need to move apparent, even in such an intimate situation.

Chuckling lightly, Peter shook his head. “So far from bored. My thesis research is all about sustainable energy – you had me interested from the very beginning,” Peter replied almost immediately, not caring that his excitement clearly shone through in the pitch of his voice. The way he was leaning into Tony’s touch, Peter didn’t have much of a chance to disguise his truth, anyway.

“You’re so much smarter than you give yourself credit for – I can tell already.” Tony’s words were mumbled almost as if the older man was embarrassed to say them – to hand out such a compliment to someone other than himself. And yet – Tony’s hesitation made the statement mean so much more; the rarity of such kind words (despite being spoken so softly) did nothing but make Peter want to melt into Tony even further.

Before things could get too mushy or physical, Peter took a large step out of Tony’s arms – begrudgingly, the need for space was prominent if they ever wanted the night to continue. Never mind the fact that paparazzi were constantly hounding and following Tony wherever the man went. Though he was deemed an appropriate companion at the time, Peter was more than sure the public would not agree.

With that thought in mind, Peter shot Tony a shy smile – “I’m pretty famished. Want to show me what Hogan’s is all about?”

They spent the ten-minute walk talking about the presentation – Tony grilled Peter about a few of the technical parts, while Peter drooled a little bit over the projected uses of Tony’s new energy storage and production. Like two nerdy peas in a pod, neither could help themselves – geeking out and talking about something they were both interested in made the rest of the world melt away. Peter might’ve kept on his tangent if it weren’t for a tall, thickly built man clearing his throat.

Looking up at the noise, Peter realized they’d walked a few blocks already and were standing in the lobby of a well-maintained hole in the wall that radiated the most delicious smells. Grease and cheese and freshly dropped French fries hit his senses all at once – there was no doubt that whatever they were about to consume would be more than delicious.

Peter was seconds away from wiping drool from his chin when Tony broke out into action. He took the couple of steps between their current position and the hostess stand to wrap who could only be Happy in a firm, breathtaking hug. “Happy, my man. It’s so good to see you,” Tony exclaimed as he stepped away, an adorable look in his eyes. “I’ve been talking this place up to Peter here, thought I’d cash in on your good will.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Peter – Tony looked at him like something he couldn’t wait to deconstruct, while Happy tilted his head curiously, as if the one glance would tell him all he needed to know about Peter Parker. Unwillingly to stand there like an animal on display, Peter broke through the weird with a soft laugh and a light wave.

“Nice to meet you, Happy. Tony’s been selling me on your food for days now. I can’t wait to try it,” Peter said, his shoulders rolling back to help him stand a little taller. Though he had nothing to prove to the total stranger in front of him, Peter couldn’t help but want to make a good impression – Happy obviously meant something to Tony; their comradery and easy affection said that without much effort.

There was a moment where all three guys seemed to look between each other – Peter watched with bated breath as Tony and Happy carried on a silent conversation with just a few blinks and forehead crinkles. By the time Peter understood what was happening, Happy stepped a little closer to him, his big hand reaching out for what could only be a handshake. Without hesitating, Peter took it – for whatever reason, the handshake felt monumental; like with the one touch, he beat the level boss and gained access to the next one.

“Good to meet you, too. Tony’s good about that sort of advertisement – we probably wouldn’t have made it without his ugly mug around at the beginning,” Happy replied. “You guys know what you want? I’ll get it on the grill personally.”

At that point, Tony stepped back into the spotlight and grabbed the reins – he ordered everything at rapid fire speed, like the menu existed as a hard copy in Tony’s mind. Considering the warmth of the older man’s welcome and Happy’s cryptic words, Peter didn’t doubt that Tony was a regular – more than likely a founding customer, even.

It took no time at all for their food to come out to the small table in the corner Tony led him to. The tray was piled with an abundance of food – cheese steaks, fries, burgers, even a couple of desserts littered the table as Tony unpacked their haul. Peter’s eyes were wide, his mouth watering with a want that only Zap’s Bodega could illicit before. “This – it all looks amazing,” Peter babbled, his stomach both hungry and overwhelmed by everything in front of him.

“Just wait until you taste it. Happy used to crank out these cheesesteaks on the little hot plate we had in our dorm room. They were excellent, but the addition of the flattop has made them unbeatable.”

Unable to decide what smelled the best, Peter grabbed whatever was nearest to him. His fingers wrapped around the greasy paper of the aforementioned cheesesteak, his mouth watering even more. “So, you and Happy were roommates at MIT?” Peter asked around a large bite, the food in his mouth muffling some of the words. It really was good – worth looking like a pig in front of the most beautiful man alive.

“Hap and I go way back. His father worked security at Stark Industries – he was on my dad’s personal protection team for most of my life. When Happy’s mom died and the need for babysitting became a thing, Happy started to spend the evenings with me after school. In a lot of ways, he’s the only family I’ve ever had. When he first opened up this place, I was young and just looking for some investment that would piss my dad off. I knew Happy had talent, but neither of us thought this place would blow up the way it did.” Tony looked up then, a vulnerability in his eyes. “We’ve been in business together ever since.”

Smiling encouragingly, Peter nodded in Tony’s direction – their closeness, Tony’s unwavering advertisement and protectiveness, even some of the food names he could see on the menu; it all made sense. After taking another bite of the cheesesteak, Peter chewed slowly before responding. “There’s always more to the story, right?” he questioned cheekily. “It sounds like your gamble worked out for you – I didn’t look at the menu, but I did Google Hogan’s; there’s ten locations within a 300-mile radius.”

A snort had Peter looking up, his eyebrows quirked. “I should’ve known,” Tony said through a laugh. “Your generation is all about instant gratification.”

Their eyes locked then, Tony’s words and their meaning sitting in the space between them. Peter forced himself not to blink – he wanted to memorize the rich hazel color that barely ringed a growing pupil. Hunger and want and something unrecognizable existed in Tony’s glance; when it was all over and Tony moved on, Peter desperately wanted to remember the genuine rawness he drew out of one of the world’s greatest minds.

“Or just impatience,” Peter countered. He drew his eyes away, needing to break the glance to stop himself from propelling himself across the table and tackle Tony to the ground. Though it looked as if Happy kept the place spick and span, Peter didn’t want to think about Tony’s expensive suit on any other floor aside from his own.

They attempted to pull the small talk back to something a little tamer, but the road of the rest of the evening had already been paved. It became harder to focus on anything other than the thick press of Tony’s thigh against his own under the table. As the minutes passed, Peter noticed Tony staring, and after a while, the older man just never stopped. Every time he looked up, Peter caught hazel eyes taking him in – undressing him button by button with the sheer want in his eyes. A red blush took up permanent residence on Peter’s cheeks and neck, the color following him out of the restaurant and out onto the street where Tony took his hand without hesitation.

Before his mom passed away, Peter remembered a softly mumbled conversation laying across both his parents early, early in the morning. His dad’s big fingers were wrapped so neatly around his mother’s, the embrace tight, despite the hour. Peter reached out to touch the unbreakable seam, his eyes wide with wonder. “They fit,” Peter whispered softly, his finger running reverently over their joint fingers.

His mother pulled him close then, her lips finding that special place on his cheek. “One day, Petey, you’ll find that perfect person whose hands will fit yours just the way your father’s fit mine.”

A warmth settled in Peter’s chest as he slid his hand into Tony’s, their fingers interlacing perfectly with ease. The immaculate fit of Tony’s hand pressing against his own made him snuggle in further – whatever happened between them after this, Peter would forever know how easily he and Tony Stark fit together.

Giving Tony’s fingers a squeeze at the thought, Peter looked up, breaking the silence – “Do you want to see my apartment? I’m sure it’s not nearly as fancy as the hotel you’re staying at, but I’ve got Netflix and a really comfortable couch.”

Tony took a few long strides to answer, his face a little pensive. “I’d love to see your apartment, Pete,” Tony replied easily. They came to a stop at the crosswalk – Tony used his momentum to pull Peter close to his chest while they waited out the light. “I don’t care about fancy. You’ll be there.”

While Peter had lots of things to reply, his words were cut off by slightly chapped lips eagerly pressing against his own. It took Peter a second to recognize what in the glorious hell was happening – when the reality of the situation finally registered, Peter surged forward, tilting his head to not only return the kiss, but deepen it.

Both of Peter’s hands found their way around Tony’s neck to keep him close – he felt like he might pass out from the sheer goodness of Tony surrounding him without the grounding touch. He was far from a virgin, but none of his previous encounters knocked him off his feet in such a way that made Peter feel like a fumbling newbie.

Sipping from each other’s mouths, Peter was surprised by a strange and unrecognizable voice coming from behind them – “the light’s changed, fellas.”

It took an obscene amount of effort to pull away – though the stranger’s words made his face burn with embarrassment, Peter was reluctant to step out of Tony’s embrace and the tantalizing press of warm lips against his own. Regardless of his trepidation, Peter reluctantly moved back.

He made sure to slip his hand into Tony’s before they set off again.

“I’m just another couple of blocks away,” Peter reassured, a hungry smirk on his face. Tony returned the look, their stride all of the sudden lengthening. Their walk turned from a leisurely stroll to a brisk half-run. If it weren’t for the want raging through Peter’s veins, he might’ve found the change hilarious. In all of their time together, Tony never expressed impatience – he always seemed calm, cool, and collected. Yet, in the face of heat and need and the promise of bare skin, Tony let that mask drop.

Happy to know a new something about Tony, Peter reveled in the pent-up silence that carried them back to his apartment. Snagging a ground floor unit close to the entrance, they luckily didn’t have to wait for an elevator or awkwardly pretend that they weren’t about to push the other against the wall and start ravaging whatever pieces of skin they could find. Instead, Peter impatiently pulled Tony behind him as they walked between building 1 and 2 with eager steps.

After some fumbling and a set of dropped keys, Peter finally got his door open and Tony through it. Without missing a beat, Tony pushed him back against the newly closed front door, their lips harshly joining. Groaning at the contact and suddenness of it all, Peter pulled Tony in – any space left between them was unacceptable now that they were in a private space where wandering eyes and clicking cameras couldn’t see. Their obvious passion was too much for the public eye; Peter so desperately wanted to keep Tony to himself – devouring him in a safe space was only the first step.

As Tony traced his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, Peter fumbled his hands down the older man’s chest until he could pull the crisp button-down from well-tailored pants. The second he was able, Peter shoved his hands under the soft fabric, his palms greedily pressing into Tony’s hairy chest. A groan left his mouth – the chest hair under his fingers was soft and teasing. Peter was caught between the urge to tug at the strands and lay his head gently against them just to feel the texture against his skin.

Tony made the decision for him – large hands were suddenly on Peter’s waist, his feet coming up off the ground with little effort. Unable to keep his hands where they were, Peter broke the kiss with a groan and shifted until he could wrap his legs around Tony’s hips. Peter panted for breath while his lips were still free as Tony navigated through the room blindly. Another soft moan left Peter’s lips when his back hit the pliable leather of his couch.

Where just moments before they were standing chest to chest, Peter now had the full weight of Tony against him. The older man fit seamlessly between his splayed thighs, their hips lining up in a way that made Peter’s cock pulse against the confines of his tight jeans. With a bit of shifting, their groins were matched – Tony’s thick cock felt sinful against Peter’s. If his impending orgasm was already upon him, Peter wondered what it’d be like when their clothes hit the floor and he really got to taste what Tony had to offer.

Like he was reading his mind, Tony made quick work of the buttons on Peter’s shirt. Calloused hands dragged up and down Peter’s bare chest as he pushed the navy fabric to the side – his skin was practically hairless, the only exception being a small trail of it leading down to the v of his jeans. Tony let his fingers play through that small amount of hair, his fingers teasing as they got closer to the one spot that Peter wanted him to be the most.

Deciding to take his mind off of the heat in his belly and the closeness of his orgasm, Peter returned the favor. His hands were shaky as he passed button after button through their holes. With a gasp, Peter spread the sides of Tony’s shirt to get the maximum impact of the older man’s torso. He liked what he felt before, but the view was something else – Tony’s chest was chiseled and cut, his pecs and abs straining with effort. Peter noticed throbbing veins and a few scars in his perusal; the evidence of Tony’s life and the way he lived it made Peter pull the man a little closer. Tony Stark drove him absolutely mad – every new thing he learned contributed to the insanity even more.

Before he could get lost in the thought, Tony’s lips were skating along his cheek, only to stop and caress the outer shell of Peter’s ear. “You feel amazing, Pete,” Tony babbled, his tongue peeking out to join in on the fun. “I want to taste you, feel your cock pulse against my tongue. You’re so fucking hard and I can’t fucking wait. Is that okay?”

Peter pulled back then, a soft grin pulling at his lips. In all of his sexual encounters, Peter couldn’t recall someone caring about him so thoroughly, let alone stopping to ask how he felt. Both hands came up to grip Tony’s cheeks until the older man was looking right at him. Through the haze of arousal, Peter recognized that warm spark in Tony’s eye – it was the look in that first picture that kept Peter coming back for more.

“It’s perfect, Tony. I’ll take anything you want to give me,” Peter said breathlessly. He leaned up for a kiss to drive the words home.

Tony looked genuinely happy when Peter pulled away – his cheeks were flushed with obvious arousal, his lips quirked in a saucy smile. Without saying anything, Tony nodded his head and travelled slowly down the length of Peter’s body. Nimble fingers made quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans before Peter could think or even draw his next breath.

Sturdy hands didn’t hesitate to pull at the waistband of Peter’s boxers – his flushed cock was already leaking as it came to rest casually against the firm abs of Peter’s chest. Tony’s calloused fingers immediately wrapped around the length, giving a tight squeeze to the base. The sheer feeling of his crush’s hands on him was almost enough for Peter to jump straight over the edge. Catching Tony’s eyes and biting down on his bottom lip was his only saving grace – the knowing look in beautiful hazel eyes pulled a chuckle from Peter’s chest, the noise distraction enough.

“Okay?” Tony asked again, the words were spoken with his mouth hovering just inches from the pulsing flesh of Peter’s cock. He could feel Tony’s breath against his sensitive skin, everything about the situation making it hard to articulate or think or exist as anything other than a melted puddle of goo against broken-in leather.

Peter took a couple of deep breaths before nodding vigorously. He felt a red flush travel even further down his neck and torso, arousal and embarrassment mixing together to create the ultimate aphrodisiac. He finally found his voice, muttering a choked off “yes” before the motor function of speaking left him once more.

After a heartbeat and then another where neither man moved, Tony gripped the sharp bones of Peter’s hips, pushing his lower body down against the cushions. They shared another look as Tony lowered his head, his pink tongue poking out to lick lightly against the leaky head of Peter’s cock. Hazel eyes stayed on him – Tony continued to lap along his sensitive skin, all while killing Peter slowly with the heat and want reflecting back. By the time Tony had all of Peter in his mouth, Peter was seconds away from being undone.

It’d been so long, and he’d wanted Tony since he understood what attraction was. Being pinned down by the person he desired longer than some of his friendships did nothing but magnify everything that was happening. His skin felt like it was on fire under Tony’s touch – the suction around his cock felt like it was coming from all angles, everywhere, all at once. Unable to stop himself, Peter moaned, panted, and shamelessly shouted Tony’s name as the blissful seconds passed.

The telling zip of a zipper being pushed down, and Tony’s hasty shift told Peter that Tony was similarly affected. He picked up his head to watch Tony suck his cock down while his right hand moved at the same pace – while he took Peter’s cock into his throat, Tony was stroking his own erection with sure strokes. As if the heat around him wasn’t enough, the beautiful visual of Tony taking his own pleasure pushed him those last couple of steps over the edge.

Bubbling heat in his belly boiled over. Peter frantically reached down to grip Tony’s shoulder, his mouth wordlessly shaping around warning words. “I’m – I’m… fuck, Tony. I’m going to cum,” Peter finally managed to gasp out. There was just enough time for Tony to pull away, to let Peter’s pleasure splatter on the blood warm skin of Peter’s stomach. Yet, Tony held fast, instead – he redoubled his efforts, his lips tightening and throat relaxing in invitation.

Unable to stop himself, Peter let go – his hips thrust up into Tony’s enticing heat, the man’s name dripping from his lips as pulse after pulse of cum left his body. Tony moaned around him, swallowing easily without pulling his mouth away or stopping his ministrations. The suction continued until Peter was reaching down halfheartedly to push at Tony’s soft curls.

While he caught his breath, Tony crawled up Peter’s body, a self-satisfied smirk on his red cheeks. Peter grinned at him, happiness and satiation rolling off of him in waves. Without thought, Peter pulled Tony tightly to him, their lips finding each other like opposite poles of magnets drawn together by the sheer force of nature. Tony shared Peter’s taste with him, his talented tongue thrusting into Peter’s mouth with a shared groan between them. It was all so hot; Peter felt his spent cock already starting to come back to life.

With that thought in mind, Peter started to reach down to help Tony finish achieving his own pleasure; yet his hand was batted away with affectionate finesse. Peter shifted until he could meet the honey hazels he was already addicted to, a question in his eye.

“There’s no need,” Tony mumbled, his face tucking into the skin of Peter’s neck. “You’re so sexy, I couldn’t help but touch myself. The way you look in the throes of pleasure – it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“Holy shit.”

Tony chuckled at the awe in Peter’s voice. “My sentiment exactly.”

For a while, they stayed stretched out on Peter’ couch, exchanging kisses and greedy touches on all the bare skin either could reach. Without so much adrenaline coursing through his system, Peter felt himself melting even further into the comfy cushions below him. After a jaw breaking yawn, Peter reached up to cup Tony’s cheek, pulling the man’s attention towards him.

“Want to stay over?” Peter asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Though they were spent and wrapped up in each other, Peter wasn’t sure where Tony stood. There was a big difference between the type of intimacy physical touch and sleeping next to another human being required. The last few days, Peter fell asleep with Tony’s messages open on the bed next to him – actually sleeping side by side, in person, that was a whole new step for them.

Tilting his head to the side, Tony shot Peter a tender smile before nodding and leaning down to press their lips together.

“Yeah, Pete – I want to stay.”

#starker #starkerfestivalsevents #starker festivals summer bingo #bobbie writes #let me get close to #peter parker/tony stark #starker fic #sfsummerbingo21

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