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corroded-hellfire · 1 year ago

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Where the Heart Is: Epilogue - Eddie Munson x Reader

Part 5

Summary: It’s moving day and the next chapter of your life with Eddie is beginning. And somewhere down the road, pieces of your heart collide with one another, making your anniversary all the more meaningful.

Note: The story has finally come to its close. It amazes me that this was never intended to be a series at all—it turned into one purely because it became so requested of me. It’s been a year since this fic first posted and the number of you who have stood by all this time to see it to the end hold such a special place in my heart. Thank you all for your kind words, generous reblogs, and all the love I’ve received over this story. I have loved writing in this world and would always be open to receiving requests in it. I hope you enjoy this little slice of their happily ever after 🧡

Words: 4.6k

[Where the Heart Is masterlist]

“Jesus Christ, Munson.”

Steve sits down on the edge of the U-Haul, trying to catch his breath after shoving Eddie’s amp on board. The bed of the moving truck is decently full already. The Harrington household was the first stop, and Steve’s things bound for Boston were loaded yesterday.

Today at the Munsons, it’s time to do the heavy lifting. Well, for Eddie and Steve to do the heavy lifting. Not to say that you and Nancy aren’t helping, but you have the easier job of loading up the back of Eddie’s van with boxes full of clothes and other smaller and more delicate objects that are certainly lighter than the alternative.

“What’re ya whining about now, Harrington?” Eddie says, sweat dripping from the curls that frame his face. His hair is in a bun at the base of his neck but it’s not enough to keep him cool in the late August heat.

“That amp weighs more than your bed did,” Steve says.

“No shit,” Eddie argues, wiping his sweaty forehead off on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Because one is a mattress and a basic frame to hold it up and the other is a goddamn expensive piece of musical equipment. I hope you didn’t ding it at all.”

“I’ll ding you,” Steve mumbles under his breath as he stands back up.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” Steve says as he hops up the steps back into the trailer.

“How ya doing, babe?” you ask, coming over to Eddie after carrying a box of his D&D stuff over to his van.

“Hot. Sweaty. Tired.”

“Aww,” you coo and wrap your arms around his neck. It doesn’t matter in the slightest to you that he’s all sweaty—you’ve been the cause of him getting sweaty many times before. Eddie rests his hands on your hips and pecks your lips.

“Eddie!” Wayne calls from inside.

“Yeah?”

“Are you bringing your desk?”

Your boyfriend chews on his bottom lip, deliberating. “Well, do you wanna keep it?”

“What the hell do I need a desk for?” Wayne asks, making you chuckle.

“Okay, we’ll take it.” Eddie huffs a laugh and gives your hip a squeeze.

“I’m glad that Wayne’s getting a proper bedroom back,” you say.

“And I’m sure he’s glad that we’re bringing the old bed with us and he’s getting a new one. I don’t think he’d get much sleep on it thinking about what you and I have done on it.”

“That doesn’t even include you on your own for years before that,” you tease. Eddie digs his fingers into your ribs, making you squeal and giggle as he tickles you.

Nancy comes out of the trailer, balancing two medium sized boxes in her arms. She raises her eyebrows at Eddie as she walks past him to get to his van.

“Wayne looks like he’s planning on helping Steve carry that desk out here. I’d get your ass in there,” she warns.

Eddie sighs. “Ugh, stubborn old man.” He kisses the top of your head before disappearing inside his home—or rather, former home.

You walk over and help Nancy load up the two boxes she just brought out. Both of you walk over towards the U-Haul and Nancy smacks her hand against the side of it.

“I am not looking forward to driving in this thing with Steve all day,” she says. “He’s never driven something this big but of course he’d never admit that it’ll be difficult.”

You chuckle and nod along, knowing your boyfriend would be the same way. You open your mouth to respond when you hear yelling coming from inside.

“No, tilt it like this!”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“Remind me to never let you work on my car if this is the way you handle things!”

Nancy sighs and shakes her head.

“Do you think it’s too late to tell them that they can’t move in with us?” she asks.

Once everything is on the truck and ready to go, Steve and Nancy say their goodbyes to Wayne and slip into the front seats, giving you and Eddie the chance for a more private farewell. You give Wayne a big hug, which he happily returns.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him,” you promise.

Wayne chuckles and shakes his head as the two of you pull apart.

“Just worried about how long before you call me to come pick him up ‘cause you’ve had enough of him.”

“Never,” you assure Wayne, taking one of his weathered hands in yours and giving it a squeeze.

“You heard her,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards you. “She’s never letting me go. I’m gonna be a prisoner.”

“Locked up in a nice Boston apartment with your girl and two of your best friends,” Wayne says, shaking his head. “When will justice be served?”

When you step back from Wayne, you’re not sure if Eddie wants you to stay or go wait in the van while he says goodbye to the man who raised him. When your boyfriend playfully tugs your ear on the way to his uncle though, you take it as it’s fine for you to be here.

“Well, I’ll see ya soon, Old Man,” Eddie says as he pulls Wayne in for a hug.

“You drive safe, okay?” Wayne asks, his hand clapping his nephew on the back as they hug. “And I mean real safe, not ‘Eddie safe,’ okay? You got precious cargo there you’re carrying.” Wayne throws you a wink over Eddie’s shoulder.

“Oh, I know,” Eddie says. He pulls back and sighs. “Gotta make sure my guitar gets to Boston unharmed.”

Wayne shakes his head and turns to you. “He ever acts up, just smack him on the back of the head. Like this.”

“Ow!” Eddie complains, reaching up to cover the spot where his uncle just thunked him. With a small giggle, you nod your head, affirming that you’ll know what to do.

There’s a brief moment of silence before Eddie sighs and claps his hand onto Wayne’s shoulder.

“You take care, you hear me? Don’t make me start sending Red over here to check on you. Or maybe I’ll just call Abigail.”

At the sound of his new girlfriend’s name, Wayne rolls his eyes.

“I can take care of myself. I’ll see you up there in Boston for Thanksgiving,” he says.

Eddie nods. He goes to take a step towards the van but twists and gives Wayne another hug instead.

“Thanks for everything, Wayne. I mean it. For everything.”

“You’re a good kid,” Wayne says as he hugs him back, tighter than the last time, you notice. “‘M proud of you, son.”

By the time they break apart, your eyes have misted over. Blinking away the tears seems to help, but one or two manage to escape and slide down your cheeks.

Eddie walks over and laces his fingers with yours.

“Ready, sweet girl?”

“Let’s go.”

The two of you hop into the van and, ahead of you, Steve starts up the truck. Eddie’s van rumbles to life and you just pray this thing makes it to Boston. Perks of having a mechanic for a boyfriend, though, are that you don’t have to wait around forever to have some mechanic come by and check it out, then fork out the big bucks for whatever is wrong with it.

Eddie puts the van in drive and follows Steve down the road, towards the exit of Forest Hills. Dark brown eyes flick up towards the rear-view mirror. Eddie watches the front door to the trailer close behind Wayne and takes a long look at the home he grew up in. It’s small, old, and not in the best condition. But it’s where he’s lived his life and had some of the best times he’s ever had. It’ll be weird to him to have a new home. To be in a new city. In a new state. But he’s excited. Excited to turn the page and start this next chapter of his life with you.

Rough, callused fingers find yours as you pull out of the trailer park. You intertwine your fingers with his and bring his hand up to your hand for a kiss.

“You okay, handsome?” you ask.

The grin he gives you makes your breath catch in your chest. You’ll never get over how breathtakingly beautiful he is. The way his curls frame his face just right and how his long eyelashes brush his cheeks every time he blinks.

“Me?” Eddie asks. “Never been better, baby.”

If Steve and Eddie thought that getting furniture out of both their houses and into the truck was hard, they’re in for a nasty surprise. The apartment you’re all sharing is on the second floor of the off-white building the moving van and Eddie’s truck are parked in front of. Both Steve and Nancy’s cars are parked behind the building, in a small private lot. Steve had driven his car here and then flown back with Nancy before the move.

“Ah, Jesus,” Steve sighs as he takes a look at the staircase the two of them will be maneuvering furniture up.

One of the advantages of living close to the school though, is that students are always around, either passing through or lodging somewhere nearby. Luckily, two guys from your and Nancy’s English class last semester come out of the apartment building next to yours.

“Whoa, need some help?” One of the guys, Jerry, asks when he sees the U-haul stuffed to the brim with furniture and boxes.

“Boys?” Nancy asks, turning to face your boyfriends. “Will your pride allow you to let others help?”

“Shit, my pride got knocked out of me the second time I dropped my dresser on my foot,” Eddie says. He turns to Jerry and offers his hand. “We’d appreciate that, man.”

With the help of Jerry and his friend Rich, all of the furniture and belongings are moved into apartment 286 within a few hours. The two good Samaritans wouldn’t accept pizza and beer as a thank you, just insisted helping was no trouble and it counted as their workout for the day.

Between the loading of the vehicles, the long drive, then the unloading of the vehicles, the four of you are thoroughly exhausted. All of the furniture is still in pieces and none of you care beyond making sure each bedroom has the right mattress in it for your inevitable crashes tonight.

“Thank God the bedrooms are on opposite sides of the apartment,” Eddie says to you as you walk out from your shared bedroom.

“I said the same thing to Nance not ten minutes ago,” Steve says. He sets down a box labeled “Living Room” in big black letters. “I don’t wanna hear a damn thing that’s gonna go on in that room of yours.”

“Glad we could finally agree on something,” Eddie says as he slings an arm over your shoulders.

“That’s fine,” Nancy says as she comes out of her and Steve’s room. “But you know we will talk about what goes on in there to each other, right? Girl code and all.”

“Girl code consists of telling each other what goes on in the bedroom?” Steve asks, eyebrows so high they’re practically hidden in his hair.

“Not everything,” you say to placate the men. Even though, obviously, you and Nancy do discuss just about everything that goes on in there with each other. What else are you supposed to talk about when getting coffee together?

“Okay, I’m starving,” Eddie says, resting his free hand on his stomach. “Please tell me we have a goddamn phone book so I can order some food.”

Pizza is ordered and delivered, and since none of you had brought a couch to your new home, the four of you sit on the floor in the middle of what will become your living room as you eat it. Steve pours a cup of Pepsi for everyone, and you all raise your red solo cups.

“What should we toast to?” you ask.

“A smooth semester,” Nancy says.

“To Munson and I finding good jobs here,” Steve adds.

“And to the many adventures we’re gonna have and how they’ll make everyone back in Hawkins completely jealous,” Eddie says.

“Let’s try and keep them in this dimension, yeah?” you say.

“Deal,” Eddie replies.

“To our new beginnings!” you say as you lift your cup.

The four of you tap your cups together, being careful not to be too hard lest you spill some.

It’s an early night, considering how exhausted you all are. That’s why when you come out of the bathroom, yawning and rubbing your tired eyes, the last thing you expected to see when you walked into your room was Eddie plugging in a strand of multicolored Christmas lights. The strings of lights are draped over piles of boxes, Eddie’s dresser, your bedside table, and a bookshelf you’d brought.

The lamp connected to the fan on the ceiling is still on, so it’s hard to really see the glow emanating from the little bulbs.

“What’s all this?” you ask, tapping your fingernail against one of the small red lights.

“Well,” Eddie says as he stands up from his crouched position, “I remember you told me at Christmas you would hang lights in your room and watch them blink and shine as you fell asleep. And, I mean, I know it’s not Christmas time, but I figured these lights might make you happy anyway.”

Your face feels stuck between a grin and a cry as you walk over to your boyfriend. His cheeks are warm as you cup them in your hands and press a kiss to his lips.

“I love them. I love you,” you say softly. “They do make me happy. But you make me the happiest.” You take another look around the room, watching the different colors do their best to be seen in the brightly lit room. “These lights kind of follow us, huh?”

Eddie chuckles and nods his head. “Pretty sure we have custody of them by this point.”

“Maybe tomorrow we can hang them up? Like they were in the van?” you ask. “I mean, who needs crown molding when you have Christmas lights?”

Eddie chuckles and runs his hands up and down your arms.

“God, I can’t believe this is our room. That I get to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up to you each morning.”

“And some fun stuff in between.” You smirk and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Think we should christen the room?” Eddie asks.

Instead of answering, you get down on the mattress that’s on the floor while the bed frame is still dismantled. You pull your pajama shirt up over your head and toss it behind you.

“Pants off, Munson.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

Eddie practically hops out of his pants and throws them in a corner. He yanks the longer chain attached to the ceiling fan and the main light goes dark. Dozens of pretty lights twinkle and dance as you take in the strands around the room. The only word you can come up with to describe how it looks is magical.

There’s a dip on the bed next to you and you look over to see Eddie stripping himself of his shirt as he sits down. He lays back against his pillows and opens his arms for you.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie says. “Let’s fool around on our bed.”

Three Months Later

The apartment is fuller than you’ve ever seen it. You’re in the kitchen, checking on the green bean casserole that you made. Your friends and boyfriend unanimously decided you should be in charge of the side dishes for Thanksgiving because you’re the best cook. Nancy has been making cookies for the last few days with Holly, who flew in for the holiday. That left Eddie and Steve in charge of the turkey. You’re not sure how that’ll go, and if you made a few too many side dishes in case the bird ends up inedible, so what?

“Oh, sweetie?”

You turn around from washing off your hands in the kitchen sink to see Steve’s mom standing before you with the pumpkin and apple pies she brought.

“Can I help you, Mrs. Harrington?” you ask.

When she smiles you immediately know where Steve acquired that feature. Similarly, Mr. Harrington, who is out in the living room talking with Wayne, has the same eyes and nose as his son. They share the same confidence too, even if Mr. Harrington’s sometimes borders on cocky.

“Did you want the pies in the fridge?” Mrs. Harrington asks.

“Oh! Yes, please.” You open the refrigerator door and carefully take the desserts from her and lay them near the carton of milk. “I’ll put those in the oven after everyone is done with dinner.”

Mrs. Harrington takes one of your hands in hers and gives it a soft squeeze.

“Take a deep breath, dear. I know it can seem overwhelming, but you’re doing great. Everything smells delicious. If you need any help, you let me know, okay?”

“I will,” you agree. “Thank you.”

She gives you one last kind smile before walking back out to the living room.

Somehow, you feel calmer after just those few words from Mrs. Harrington. You’ve never even met her before today, but her nurturing presence was comforting. It’s a melancholy feeling because you’ll never have that with your own mother. As much as you’ve accepted that, it still finds a way to sting every now and again.

A ding on the oven lets you know that the biscuits are done. Once you’ve gotten them out of the oven and given the stuffing a few stirs, you see someone come into the kitchen out of the corner of your eye.

“There’s my favorite cook.”

You giggle and step forward to hug Wayne. You’d hugged him when he arrived earlier, but you’re stealing another one now anyway.

“And look at that!” Wayne says. “Wearing the apron I got you for Christmas last year.”

“Oh, I wear this every time I cook,” you tell him proudly, looking down at the turquoise material tied around your waist. There are a few stains here and there despite your best efforts to keep it pristine.

Eddie pops into the kitchen claps a hand against Wayne’s back before coming to stand next to you.

“Need any help, babe?” he asks.

“Actually, I think dinner is just about ready. Help me set the table?”

“No way,” Wayne says with a shake of his head. “You worked hard cooking all this for us, Eddie and I will get everything out on the table.”

The dishes exit the kitchen one by one, to be laid out on the dining room table and Eddie’s old desk that have been pushed together and covered with a burnt sunset tablecloth. The chairs are mismatched as well, but you all had to work with what you’ve got.

Once it seems like everything has been situated, you take a deep breath. It’s out of your hands now. All you can do is hope people enjoy the food you made.

Everyone is gathering around the table, sitting down in front of lovely place settings that Nancy worked very hard on. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington take two seats at the far end of the table. Steve sits down next to his father at the head of the table, with Nancy on his other side. Holly giggles about something Steve said as she slides in the chair next to her big sister.

Wayne slips past you and takes a seat next to Mrs. Harrington. The second head of the table, opposite Steve, is free and you give a little bow and motion for Eddie to take it. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead.

The two empty place settings on either side of Eddie seem to stare at you. The extra chairs mock you as you look over the people sitting at the table in your home. Steve and his parents, Nancy and her little sister, Eddie with his uncle. Family. Not just the individual ones, but as a collective group. The four of you who live in this apartment have brought the people in their lives into all of your lives. It’s an extension of a family that keeps going on and on.

“Ah,” Eddie says as he hops up from his seat. “Forgot the wine that Wayne brought.” He gives your lips a quick peck before walking into the kitchen. You can’t help but smile as you watch him. This is where you belong. Eddie is your family and your home.

The quiet knocking pulls you out of your latest Eddie-zone-out. It sounds again and you realize someone is knocking on the front door.

“I’ve got it,” you say as Steve starts to stand.

The cold doorknob bites your hand as you twist it to reveal who’s standing there. At first your eyes are too high, catching on a familiar face but not quite the one that fills you with glee. When you look down, there she is. Large, inquisitive eyes, wide smile, and two pigtail braids to top off her lovely purple dress.

They’re here. You’d extended the invitation to your sister months ago, but never heard back. That wasn’t unusual of your sister, but it did complicate your planning. Nancy insisted that you have the extra place settings and chairs for them just in case. Though you truly believed it would all be in vain, you agreed.

Tears collect along your waterline, and you know it won’t be long before they’re leaking down your face.

“I am so happy you’re here. Look at how tall you got!” You lean down and Chloe instantly jumps into your arms. The hug you give her is as tight as it can possibly be without hurting her. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you, too!” Chloe says as she pulls away and you stand up.

More surprising than opening your front door and seeing your sister and niece, your sister leans in and pulls you into a hug.

“It’s really nice to see you,” she says.

As stunned as you are, you manage to hug her back. It’s a warm and comforting hug—something you never thought you’d get from her again.

“It’s nice to see you too, Melanie.” You find yourself actually meaning those words. This is certainly no indication that things will become more stable between the two of you, but at least it’s a nice gesture on a holiday.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” you tell both of them, but give Chloe a wink. “Eddie? Babe?”

He steps out of the kitchen, wine bottle in hand, and his head swivels as he searches for you. You see his eyes take in you, then the woman and little girl who look very similar to you. A grin lights up his face and you just know how happy he is for you. He sets the wine bottle down on the table and walks over to you. The closer he gets, the shyer Chloe becomes. Though she’s too big for it now, she tries to hide herself behind your legs.

“Eddie, this is my sister Melanie and my niece Chloe,” you say.

Your boyfriend squats so he can be on more of an even level with the girl. He offers a hand to her.

“It’s nice to meet my girlfriend’s favorite person,” he says.

Chloe still looks a little unsure, but she comes out from behind your legs just enough to shake his hand.

“I think that’s you,” she tells Eddie softly.

“Why’s that?” Eddie tilts his head in curiosity.

“Because she’s never smiled like that when she’s looked at me before.” Chloe looks up at you, now a speechless mess, and then lowers her head to look at Eddie again. “When you came outta the kitchen. It was a big, big smile. I never seen her smile that big before.”

Heat rises to your face as your niece calls out your terminal case of lovesickness. Eddie doesn’t seem to know what to say either as he stands back up and takes your hand in his.

“Let’s, um. Let’s all sit down before the food gets cold,” you suggest. In your frazzled state, you forgot you didn’t exactly introduce your sister and boyfriend properly. You quickly remedy the situation and let them shake hands and have a polite greeting while you bring Chloe to the other side of the table where you’re sitting.

“Here we go,” you say as you help her into her chair. “This is Holly. She’s my friend Nancy’s little sister. That’s Nancy there, that’s Steve, those are Steve’s mom and dad, and this is Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.”

Chloe is seated directly across from Wayne and gives him a shy smile.

“Hi, darlin’,” Wayne greets. “Are you happy to see your aunt?”

“Yes!” Her face lights up and it absolutely melts your heart.

Eddie and Melanie come over and join you at the table; Eddie next to you at the head of the table, and Melanie directly across from you. A special sort of warmth you’ve never felt before overtakes your body. It's comforting, like wrapping yourself in the fluffiest blanket on a cold day. The source of this feeling smacks you in the face. You’re sitting between your two favorite people in the world. A part of you never thought this would actually happen, but here it is. It’s overwhelming in the best possible way.

Steve rises at the opposite end of the table, his wine glass in hand. It looks like someone poured it in Eddie’s absence. All heads turn to Steve, some unfamiliar faces staring back at him, and a lot of familiar ones. It doesn’t make a difference though. Steve is addressing everyone at the table.

“We’re grateful that each of us has some family with us today. The world is crazy, and you never know when things are going to go upside down.”

You, Eddie, and Nancy share a look, smirks on each of your faces at Steve’s hidden joke that only you three would get.

“So, here’s to family, friends, and the moments that bring us together.”

“Cheers!”

Everyone clinks their glasses together, reminiscent of the four of you knocking your red solo cups of Pepsi against each other. The difference between then and now is purely the nicer dinnerware and fuller apartment. The sentiment is still the same. A celebration of what you’ve accomplished so far and excitement for the adventures that lie ahead.

Under the table, Eddie laces his fingers with yours. Your mind wanders back to last Thanksgiving. The first time you and Eddie held hands. The first time you kissed. The first time you met. Back then, you never could have imagined what was beginning to blossom. The surprise of it sneaking up on you is half the fun.

Now you’re here, exactly where you belong. The people around this table own pieces of your heart, with Eddie holding the largest shard. This is what family is. This is home.

Eddie lifts your hands from under the table and presses a kiss to your knuckles. The soft chink of your charm bracelet the only sound penetrating the bubble that you and Eddie are in. Your newest charm, the little silver turkey you received this morning, stares up at you from where it rests on your wrist.

Soft lips on the back of your hand have your eyes rising to meet Eddie’s again. He leans in and steals a soft, tender kiss. A small giggle from behind you lets you know that you’re being spied on. But you couldn’t care less who watches you kiss your boyfriend.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” someone calls, you’re not sure who.

Eddie just smiles and gives your hand a squeeze.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Eddie.”

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

#Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #WTHI

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woonhakist · 2 years ago

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august

synopsis — all throughout summer, you had fallen on your knees, burned in the sun, and scraped your body, but nothing had hurt you more than yungyu did.

pairing — lee yungyu x gn!reader

genre — angst, slight fluff

warnings — mentions of minor injuries, mentions of blood

word count — 1.0k

notes — this is a surprise gift done out of sheer impulse for omi (@minkkumaz) ! also, this is my first written AND angst fic, so any feedback would be appreciated ! hope u all enjoy ! (inspired by august by taylor swift)

THE ERAS SERIES

it was as if you could still smell the salt air, as if you could still feel the sun beam onto your skin. back when he was all you wanted, and there wasn’t anything you needed more. there was nothing that could compare to each word and touch that you shared with him, nor was there anything that came as close to you as yungyu did.

you could still feel the time you were twisted in your bedsheets with him, tangled in his limbs. the sun couldn’t beat the heat that you felt creeping onto your skin, and no breeze compared to each breath of air you shared. you became the closest you could be, and your lips nearly grazed his. you could still remember the words that he whispered into the air:

“are you sure?”

you’d never been more certain in your life, and you’d never take it back. the soft press of his lips onto yours, to the slow thawing of your feelings; both were more than you could ever ask for. it was something you’d never regret, even as you laid in that same bed weeks later, yearning to feel his lips just once more.

you could still see his back beneath the sun, wishing you could write your name on it. at that point in time, you still hadn’t spoken about the days after summer, days in which his sunkissed skin would dull. you could still feel the twist in your expression—the curiosity you had to satisfy.

“will you call when we’re back at school?”

you’d never been more confused in your life when his only answer was a smile. his silence spoke no words, and his grin spoke even less. you remembered making the quick decision to leave it alone, and to stay trapped in the delusion—one where you thought you had him.

then, as quick as it came, august had slipped away, lessening into a moment in time. you were lost in the memory of your misery as september came, and yungyu left. he had given you no warning before he disappeared, and from late august to early september, all you could do was miss him.

as you sobbed beneath the same bedsheets his scent lingered on, you tried to find comfort in the vivid memory of yungyu rushing towards you the moment you fell, hushing your pained sniffles. you remembered his shy smile as he bandaged your cuts, leaving gentle touches along your skin.

your tears could only flood out more, and your skin had absorbed them, just like it did with the rays of the sun. you had remembered the day you forgot your sunscreen, and once the consequence of your mistake caught up to you, yungyu was there. you remembered how he smeared aloe vera on your sunburnt skin, quietly laughing at your slip-up.

unlike then, you couldn’t feel any joy in your pain. it stung, similar to when you’d snagged your skin on a tree branch. then, just like every other occasion, yungyu had come to your aid. you had hissed when he applied the ointment, but he had assured you that it was for the better.

each time you had gotten hurt, yungyu never failed to be by your side. you had believed that—after he fractured your soul—he’d be back to pick up the pieces. you had waited for him, hoped for a call—yet all you got was your unread texts. it was then that his silence finally spoke, and it told you that he was never yours to lose.

you were desperate to let it go—all you wanted was to settle. you figured that wanting should be enough; it had to be enough. yungyu wouldn’t want to give any more than that, so you couldn’t get any more than that. you thought it was as simple as counting to ten, but you simply weren’t able to get it through your head.

you were still stuck, stuck believing that yungyu wouldn’t leave you stranded. you thought that he was bound to come back to you, bound to reignite your summer passion. you weren’t ready to accept the reality, even if you knew that your protective dam of wishful thinking was bound to collapse.

by the time school started, most of your scars from summer tucked beneath bandaids, smothered in aloe vera, and treated with ointment had healed. each trace of your summer had gradually disappeared—save for one wound.

it bled as if it were a fresh cut, yet maroon tears had spilled out of it for weeks. you found that nothing could mend the gash that yungyu had torn into your heart, and you could still feel the sting—only worsening once you caught a glimpse of him.

you watched as he walked into the classroom—heard as he talked with his friends. his smile reflected the sun, and his voice radiated purity. you could never stay mad at him, even if he made your heart ache. you’d always find room to forgive, but you’d never forget all of the memories he shattered.

you knew you had to let go, but you couldn’t find the heart to. you’d sit there gluing the fragments of your summer together until the end of time if you had to. you didn’t care if you needed to pick up the pieces that he wouldn’t; you would do it a thousand times if that meant you’d have at least one chance out of a billion to have him.

part of you still wanted him to want you just as much as you needed him, even if that was all but possible. part of you still believed in the love that never lived—the love that was never true. part of you still lived for the hope of it all—lived for him. part of you was him, even if you ever wanted to believe otherwise.

you stared at the boy who took a piece of you with him, and replaced it with a void that could only chant his name. yungyu had seated himself at a desk near yours, his friends surrounding him. he took in the room, and you followed his gaze as it darted around the space—until it landed on you.

you tried to see in his eyes what you held in your own, desperate to find something, anything that could be more than your own want—but as his eyes left yours without a second glance, he inevitably slipped away into a moment in time.

THE ERAS SERIES

#woonhakist #lee yungyu #yungyu x reader #yungyu angst #yungyu fluff #yungyu au #yungyu imagines #yungyu scenarios #8turn #8turn x reader #8turn angst #8turn fluff #8turn au #8turn imagines #8turn scenarios

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warblossom34 · 1 year ago

Text

september 20th, 20232 weeks agothevenus-child sent a message:

“Once i saw a tiktok of a girl saying that the most powerful manifestation we could do is while having a orgasm, do you girls have a thought on that? Ever heard something like this? She was the only one I ever seen talking this ”

I have an idea about this and I agree if you want my opinion. Orgasm is the highest vibration a human can reach.

!!!!!!

september 20th, 20232 weeks ago

thevenus-child sent a message:

I have an idea about this and I agree if you want my opinion. Orgasm is the highest vibration a human can reach.

!!!!!!

manifestation beginners

august 15th, 20231 month ago

anonymous sent a message:

plsss give me moon tips to know what should be done in their cycle, i want to overflow love and immerse myself in spirituality <333 before i was feeling so sad for like 3 years with anxiety and i'm only 17 i'm young of all i'm changing my habits and entering a new era. i'm getting to understand that i can manifest the life i want, and that what's mine will come to me no matter when. i feel like evan brought me to your blog, to you and maddy bc i really get a good vibe from u, ty for being so kind. i'll send love to evan and u two.

@thevenus-child Hello! I am happy you are here ✨ I’m very glad we could inspire you! I would advise you get a notebook for your manifestations. Write them down, even if it’s just bullet points. You can do that in your mobile app too, it’s fine. It’s a good way to keep track of your progress, and for me writing down my manifestations helps me see them as a concrete plan with actual steps to take instead of just a fuzzy daydream. When you write down your goals, write them down as if they are already happening. For example, you said “I want to overflow love and immerse myself in spirituality”. It’s a great start because you know what you want, but it will work even better if you write “I am overflowing with love, and I am immersed in spirituality”. There is so much power in claiming the reality you want, the Universe has no choice but to align you with your desire. Now… New Moon is the time to manifest new things, new beginnings. It’s a time in the moon cycle that you don’t see the moon in the sky at all. It’s a blank canvas. So manifest a new project, a new job, a new relationship, new habits, new opportunities. The Waxing Moon is the two weeks time between the New Moon and the Full Moon. The Moon gets fuller and fuller, it “grows” and gets brighter. During those two weeks, you should pay attention to what is happening with the manifestations you did on the New Moon; the Waxing Moon will bring you opportunities, ideas, or people that will help you get your manifestations. It’s also a time where you will probably realize what you’re “missing”, so the Waxing Moon is also an excellent time to manifest other things that you want to help you with your goals. Full Moon is the middle of the cycle. This is where the power is at full force. This is probably where you will start seeing your manifestations come to life, BUT it’s also the time where the most obstacles will occur. The light of the Full Moon shines bright on the messy parts of your life, so clean them up. These obstacles are almost always things that don’t serve you in your manifestation journey, so the Universe will make a fuss so that you get rid of those things and move on. It will not go gentle, this is an intense period of the moon cycle. The Wanning Moon is the two weeks time it takes for the Full Moon to disappear from the sky and get back to the New Moon phase. This is where the dust settles, and this is where you can make an inventory of your manifestations: what worked? What didn’t work? what things do you need to do to get where you want? Do you still want the things you wished for on the New Moon? It’s also a great time to do some banishing work, and prepare for the new cycle. Some general tips for manifesting:

2 notes

manifestation beginners

august 15th, 20231 month ago

mycovenofchaos sent a message:

♌️ 🌙

Yes!!! I love fire energy for manifesting but Leo energy is just special 💕✨

3 notes

manifestation beginners

august 14th, 20231 month ago

August 16 is the New Moon in Leo.

The New Moon is a great time to manifest new things! It’s the beginning of the Moon cycle, so it makes sense it being a great time to plant a new seed for the future.

Leo is an energy concerned with creativity, playfulness, passion, but also assertiveness, leadership skills, and authenticity.

Things you can manifest when the New Moon is in Leo:

A new creative project/business/career

A promotion in a leadership position

Adventure, travels, and fun

Confidence to speak your mind and be as authentic as you want to be with no shame

Passion, sex and love

Recognition (either public or within your field)

5 notes

manifestation beginners

august 8th, 20231 month ago

anonymous sent a message:

i think your way of interacting with us is cute! i want to manifest a relationship with characteristics similar to evan, like how he is a physical touch guy, nice smile, shy... anyway i think girls who want evan specifically (who doesnt want him LOL) should focus on that, on what they r attracted to in order to manifest a bf with these characteristics!

a tip is to be confident in yourself and love yourself first of all, it doesn't necessarily have to be him, there are so many nice guys (i know evan doesn't compare) but we don't know him on an intimate level, it's good to be delulu sometimes but I see girls desperate for him and stop meeting interesting ppl

Thank you! I love chatting with you guys, and Maddie has said on here and to me in private how much she loves interacting with you! I agree with everything you said! Maybe the Universe brought Evan into your life to show you what you like: a soft, kind, affectionate dude who can be awkward and shy in a charming way! I wish you the best in your manifestation journey, and don’t forget to let go and live your life!

5 notes

manifestation beginners

july 27th, 20232 months ago

anonymous sent a message:

how do i manifest a person?

Like you manifest anything else: visualize it, feel it like it has already happened, and then let go. The most important part is letting go. So say you have a crush on someone, and you want to manifest dating them. Pick a time and place where it’s quiet and you won’t be interrupted. Close your eyes, take deep relaxing breaths. Set the intention of manifesting a date with that person. You can do that by saying it out loud “my intention is to date that person”. Say it like you mean it. Say it with certainty. Then while you are relaxed, visualize them asking you out OR accepting your invitation to go out (whatever you think is more possible). “See” them smiling at you, talking to you. “See” moments of your date (are you playing arcades? are you having dinner? are you out at a bar? whatever, you chose). “See” the text notifications with their name on your screen. Literally create scenarios in your head. It is very I portant to feel the feelings those things would evoke: excitement, butterflies in your stomach, confidence. Replay all those scenes in your head until you feel like it has been sent out to the universe. This whole thing is called “visualization”. *** When you feel like you’re done, say thank you to the Universe for bringing you your desires. Gratitude is very important when it comes to manifesting. Gratitude inspires confidence and trust in the Universe, which only propels your manifestation to come faster. Then, LET GO!!!! Forget about it. Go live your life. Let the Universe do it’s thing. Don’t worry about them flirting with someone else. Don’t stalk their social media. Don’t force it. Go live your best life, go become the best version of yourself. Trust that Universe will bring you your desire or something better. ***the best days for love manifestations are Fridays (the day of Venus), the New Moon and/or the Full Moon. ***If visualization is a bit too abstract for you and you find it hard to focus (like me, ADHD gang lol), I would suggest scripting. Scripting is the method of focusing your energy on what you want by writing it down. Write something like “I am so grateful I get to spend time with that person! We are getting to know each other, talking, flirting! I feel excited!” It’s important to emphasize the feeling. And again, let it go!!!

6 notes

manifestation beginners

april 23rd, 20235 months ago

anonymous sent a message:

How do i can manifest? I can not make it

Manifesting is about focusing on the thing you want until you attract it into your life. Manifestation happens consciously or unconsciously, it is always at work. When you manifested things you didn’t want, then that means you focused too much on what you didn’t want to happen instead of what you want to happen. For example, “I don’t want to be late to my appointment” will only bring you reasons to be late to your appointment. Saying “I want to be on time to my appointment” shifts the energy on what you want, therefore less chances of being late. Focus can be an issue for many people, especially focusing on the good things. That’s why there are tools like meditation, visualization, scripting, candle spells, and all that jazz. It is a very, very broad subject so I would suggest you do your own research on these things: There are plenty of books and YouTubers but I always suggest Abraham Hicks or The Secret for beginners.

1 note

manifestation beginners

april 18th, 20235 months ago

anonymous sent a message:

Fridays are the days of Aphrodite-Venus, the goddess of beauty and love, so if you wanna get extra magickal do a face mask with some candles (pink for beauty, white for purity), sexy music and just feel like a goddess. Again, visualize your skin being clean and glowy.

I would recommend the same as the admin said, also you can use my magical witchcraft spell , you need to bring a paper a pen and light a white candle if you're asking for a clear skin. It'd be better if it was on Friday during morning time, or evening. Write down three things you want to change about your skin and say this six times out loud not whispering :

“ On this day my skin will change,

Brillant beautiful skin I will gain,

In Seven days my worries will disappear

In Seven days my skin will be clear, ” take the paper you wrote on in somewhere safe, and forget about it until the results you wanted have come to passe, also drink water and wash your face every morning and night, while repeating the chant I gave you. 🙏🏼

For the anon who asked for a skin scare spell!!!

manifestation beginners

august 15th, 20231 month ago

anonymous sent a message:

2 notes

manifestation beginners

august 15th, 20231 month ago

mycovenofchaos sent a message:

♌️ 🌙

Yes!!! I love fire energy for manifesting but Leo energy is just special 💕✨

3 notes

manifestation beginners

august 14th, 20231 month ago

August 16 is the New Moon in Leo.

The New Moon is a great time to manifest new things! It’s the beginning of the Moon cycle, so it makes sense it being a great time to plant a new seed for the future.

Leo is an energy concerned with creativity, playfulness, passion, but also assertiveness, leadership skills, and authenticity.

Things you can manifest when the New Moon is in Leo:

A new creative project/business/career

A promotion in a leadership position

Adventure, travels, and fun

Confidence to speak your mind and be as authentic as you want to be with no shame

Passion, sex and love

Recognition (either public or within your field)

5 notes

manifestation beginners

august 8th, 20231 month ago

anonymous sent a message:

5 notes

manifestation beginners

july 27th, 20232 months ago

anonymous sent a message:

how do i manifest a person?

6 notes

manifestation beginners

april 23rd, 20235 months ago

anonymous sent a message:

How do i can manifest? I can not make it

1 note

manifestation beginners

april 18th, 20235 months ago

anonymous sent a message:

“ On this day my skin will change,

Brillant beautiful skin I will gain,

In Seven days my worries will disappear

For the anon who asked for a skin scare spell!!!

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m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months ago

Note

HSGSH @//i-am-so-strange STOP YOU GUYS ARE MAKING ME BLUSH very happy to be of service and I’m glad you guys find my translations helpful!!! Trust once Karasu and Otoya get their stories I will be running to do those too!!

But true….even Barou of the animated characters right now I’d say he’s definitely on the more unpopular side unfortunately….actually that’s a good point because iirc Niko’s wasn’t translated by one of the usual translators but a separate Niko fan!

SHDHS it honestly also doesn’t matter much either way to me either HAHAHA Just kinda a matter of ig how many posts you want under your translations tag/on your blog? Idk if you prefer to keep it more organized and all slapped into one big ask or if you wanna read it as they get done LOL

Oops I also disappeared for a bit to touch grass HAHAHA

I love dumbass toddler Karasu any dumbass Karasu is great hehe can’t wait to read his version of bfb!!

CREST SCOPE TOOTHPASTE LMFAOOOOO I CANT

-Karasu anon

where would we be without you karasu anon 😩 OMG no because if the next lineup isn’t karasu otoya shidou/someone else (kiyora??) then we must riot…given our track record at predicting things related to bllk though i think we have a good shot at manifesting it into existence

i feel like barou’s best moments come as soon as he gets subbed into the u-20 match…like he becomes a whole diff character atp HAHA i am 100% confident that he’s going to have soooo many new fans post season 2 and probs more if/when NEL is animated because he goes crazy in the ubers match!! also the evolution of the art style in the manga is most evident with him and nagi imo but someone on the 8bit team had a fat crush on nagi because they yassified him sm from the manga (not complaining ofc bc me too) but they did NOT give barou the same love…if they stick w how he’s drawn later in the manga though i knowww he’s going to get fangirls

hmm just for the sake of my stalkers if i have any maybe do separate ones so they don’t have to scroll past one huge post when they’re going through my blog??? LMAO also i would love to see what’s going on w barou hehe my green flag king…actually wait it’s crazy this ln is just best bf numbers one and two plus aryu 😭

LOOK AT US IN OUR TOUCHING GRASS ERA 🙌 so proud 🥹 hehe i actually leave for vacation on sunday august 4th so we’ve been doing packing and getting ready for that plus i’ve been hanging out with some friends and whatnot before leaving for a bit 😩 don’t fear though vacation will not stop the chronically online grind��it may slow it down but nothing can ever stop me NOTHING (i have started/finished some of my most popular and longest fics while on a completely different continent…like the last 80k words of pomegranate ink were written while i was in india HAHA i will always find a way to post no matter the odds)

BFB KARASU VERSION IS COMING ALONG!! hoping to post before my flight so within the next couple of days hopefully 😰🤞🏻 rn we are at 8k words and karasu is. uh. 7 years old 😭😭😭 so we’ll see how that goes…

it was the only thing i could think of…otoya is one of those favs that you just love to slander yk 😭 still love him though (begrudgingly 😒)

#answered asks

0 notes

sie-rui · 3 years ago

Note

Could I request Mikey Chifuyu and any other character that u want like their reactions to their s/o telling them that they are pregnant with their kid and they’re like all happy abt it

❀ HONEY, I’M PREGNANT | TOKYO REVENGERS 🤍 sano manjiro, sano shinichiro 💿 female reader, second pov (you/your), fluff, family, established relationship, au - everyone lives / nobody dies, timeline: post-canon, headcanon 📅 august 28, 2021 🔗 masterlist ,, version: 01, 02

the boys do not appreciate you telling them big news right before bed. especially if that big news includes you and a baby.

. . . SANO MANJIRO

☆ Mikey did not expect it.

☆ He was just coming home after a long day at SS motors with Shinichiro and Izana, tired out of his mind and just ready to sleep the rest of the night off.

☆ Then, you came around and drop a gigantic bomb on his head.

“Manjiro, you’re going to be a father.”

☆ He sits up, staring at you, trying to discern if you were fucking with him. His face is blank, trained to do so, and you can only sit there silently, heart beating too loud.

☆ Mikey wasn’t expecting any kids, a silent battle was still to be fought. It’s been years since Shinichiro finally decided to drag him to therapy after one close encounter where he almost murdered someone that tried hurting Takemichi, but it still feels as if it was just a few months ago.

☆ What if he loses control of himself, the blood on his hands and he wouldn’t be able to stop? What if his child ends up like him too?

☆ But then he looks at you again to see you smiling at him, a little unsure of his reactions but excited anyway.

☆ And it felt as if all his worries disappear.

☆ If he ever loses control, you would be there to snap him back. Where he fails, you win. Where he lacks, you’ll provide.

"Yes! Yes! We’re going to have a daughter!" "We don't know that yet, Manjiro-" "We're going to have a daughter!"

☆ Mikey would grin, laughing out loud in happiness, pouncing at you with his arms wide open. The two of you go tumbling back to the sheets.

☆ Girl dad Sano Manjiro.

. . . SANO SHINICHIRO

☆ Another day with his younger brothers making a mess in his shop passed and Shinichiro wonders when they’ll finally get along. It’s been years and they’re still fighting as if they’re still fifteen despite being twenty already.

☆ Shinichiro hopes that if he ever has a child with you, it’s going to be a daughter. All of the Sano Men are girl dads.

☆ It has been talked about before, Shinichiro wants a kid and you do as well. You’ve tried of course, some things just don’t come so easily.

"We can take as long as we want."

☆ Then he comes home to see you sitting at the table, face pulled seriously, deep in thought. Worry rooted inside his stomach as he drops his things and makes his way to you, hand reaching out to caress your hair.

☆ You startled out of your ruminating, looking up at him as he massages your shoulders and neck, smiling at you and leaning down to pepper kisses on your head.

"What’s wrong?"

☆ He would whisper in your ear and you can hear the smile on his voice as he leans down.

☆ His heartbeat picks up when your eyes twinkle, looking up at him, holding onto his hand, telling him the good news.

"I’m pregnant, Shin."

☆ Shinichiro, like his brother, just full on stops.

☆ Then he explodes in a cacophony of fireworks and screaming.

☆ Shinichiro picks you up and spins you around the kitchen and you can only laugh joyously in his arms.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers mikey #mikey x reader #manjiro sano #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjirou #sano manjiro #manjiro #tokyo revengers shinichiro #shinichiro sano #sano shinichiro #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro x y/n #sano shinichiro x reader #shinichiro

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fleursowl · 4 years ago

Text

James & Sirius friendship drabble

this is for @gaeilgelupin because it’s her BIRTHDAY GO WISH HAN A HAPPY BIRTHDAY RN!! han i love u millions u r the james to my sirius <3

never saw one without the other, did you? you’d have thought they were brothers

it was the fourth week into the summer holidays, and James had yet to hear from Sirius

now, if you asked James, he would say he was a pretty relaxed person. prone to fits of excitement, sure, but all in all? a calm, cool, collected guy. (not everyone agreed with this)

however, his calmness had a breaking point. and that breaking point was neither him, nor remus or pete, having heard even a whisper from sirius all summer- even their two-way mirrors had been silent since sirius had arrived at grimmauld place

neither remus nor peter had heard from him either, which was particularly bugging james as no matter how bad sirius’ summers had been previously, sirius always managed to write to remus at least once

after not being able to stand james’ constant fretting any longer, euphemia had invited remus to stay midway through the summer, hoping the mild-mannered boy would be a calming influence on him

this did not have the desired effect however, as james now had a person to bounce his fretting off, and after a week into remus’ stay euphemia was beginning to feel like pulling her hair out

however, this all rose to a climax one warm august evening, where euphemia and fleamont had stayed up late playing gobstones in the living room with james and remus in an attempt to distract them from their worries

james was in the middle of doing a victory lap around the room, crowing his victory, when two bodies stumbled out of the fireplace in a pile of soot and ash and- what was that smell?

all members of the potter house jumped back in surprise, wands drawn and at the ready, only to find it was regulus clutching what looked like sirius’ body to his chest, his eyes wide and imploring

“i can’t stay, i have to go back. you have to help him- don’t ever let him come back.” he urged, depositing sirius’ body onto the carpet, and with that, he turned back and stepped into the fireplace, shouting “grimmauld place!” before disappearing in roar of flames

the firelight gave effie a chance to momentarily glimpse sirius’ face and she let out a noise james had never heard from her before, falling to her knees beside sirius on the carpet and pulling his head to rest in her lap

“fleamont, please contact dumbledore immediately. james, go get my emergency aid kit.” she commanded, her voice shaking but firm as she waved her wand over sirius’ body, her eyes intent on his twitching body

james and remus stared at sirius, lifeless in effie’s arms, and a sob escaped remus’ throat, a hand clasping over his mouth as he collapsed next to effie, desperate hands frantically trying to find something to do to help

in the meantime, james had run to get the emergency kit and passed it to his mother with shaking hands, watching her heal scar after vicious scar on sirius’ body, tapping her wand against his chest and nearly sobbing in relief when breath rushed back to sirius’ body, causing him to wake up in a rush, immediately sitting up and letting out a cry of pain, his head landing again in effie’s lap

“where’s… regulus?” he croaked out, reaching out a hand as though he thought regulus would take it. instead james stepped over, grasping sirius’ hand in his like it was a lifeline

“he’s gone back, sirius. are you…” words choked james’ throat as he surveyed the broken body of his best friend, his brother, and he turned to remus in the hope that he would be able to say something, but remus was already clutching sirius’ hand, tears pouring down his cheeks and clearly beyond speaking

after a few more minutes of tense silence, the only noise being sirius’ occasional groan or whimper of pain, james finally forced the emotions back out of his throat and managed to articulate again. “is he going to- is he going to be alright?” he stammered to his mother, and she paused momentarily in her healing of sirius to run a soothing hand through his hair

“he’s going to be just fine, he’ll just need a while to recover. is the spare bedroom tidy?” effie reassured, and james closed his eyes and thanked whoever was listening that he’d been blessed with her as a mother. “it’s tidy, but i’d rather stay with him. can’t he stay in my room with me and remus?”

euphemia potter looked up from her healing of sirius into the wide, watery eyes of her son and his best friend, and knew there would be no arguing with them. sirius would be staying in james’ room.

sirius woke up sharply the next morning in james’ bed, gasping for breath and looking around wildly. after clearly not recognising where he was, he started thrashing and crying out again, waking up james who was curled up next to him

“hey… hey, sirius, it’s me, prongs, i’m here mate, you’re at my house” james did his best to soothe the terrified boy, nervous hands flying all over his body before deciding his shoulders were the best place to rest them

“i’m at your house?” sirius whispered, wide eyes looking like they couldn’t quite believe it when james nodded back at him. “at my house. you’re safe, sirius.” “safe.” sirius repeated back to him, his hands trembling and curling over james’ chuddley cannons duvet

“safe, padfoot.” james promised, lying back next to sirius and putting a tentative arm over his bandaged chest so that even in his sleep, sirius would know he was with people who loved him

over the next few days sirius gradually grew back into himself, the worst day being when dumbledore visited and sirius was forced with trembling hands to recount the events of his last night at grimmauld place to a room of euphemia, fleamont, dumbledore, james and remus. after dumbledore had asked a few follow up questions and promised he would sort things out sirius had collapsed into remus’ waiting arms, allowing the boy to lead him back to james’ bedroom where the three boys stayed for hours, just sitting quietly in each other’s company on james’ bed

a week later the worst of sirius’ wounds had healed and he accompanied fleamont on a trip to london, which he returned from laden with bags and grinning ear to ear.

“i can stay! forever!” he crowed as soon as he got back, throwing himself at james and nearly tackling him to the ground. james couldn’t believe his luck- not only was his best friend out of the worst place he’d ever heard of, but he was moving in with him!

the three marauders immediately ran to the potters’ spare room which had been given happily to sirius. however, the thing that shocked sirius the most was that he was allowed to decorate it however he wanted- hence the trip to london with fleamont

“merlin pads, how many bloody bowie posters do you need?” james grumbled from where he was stood on top of a chest of drawers, getting his fingers tangled in spellotape as he attempted to stick up his fifth david bowie poster as of yet, snorting at sirius who was busy not helping and instead had chosen to twirl around the room to the music blasting out of his brand new record player

“oh i don’t know, i think he has more of freddie mercury.” remus grinned, ignoring sirius’ indignant protests and tugging him in by the waist to press a kiss to his hair.

sirius’ offence was of course, a pretence, as when he stood in his room in the arms of his moony watching james wobble off the chest of drawers with a yelp, crashing onto his bed, a warm feeling spread from his chest to the rest of his body, a warm feeling that he felt whenever he looked at james. james, his best friend. james, his partner in crime. james, his fellow marauder.

james, his brother.

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theglowyscorpio · 3 years ago

Text

all set | eren x reader

a/n: this is a story in the making, currently available at AO3 and Wattpad. If you like it, please don't hesitate to give me some kudos, leave a comment or maybe follow me on my social media! <3 Any feedback is highly appreciated since I'm just getting started!

pairing: eren yeager x female reader

tags: mature content, alternate universe (modern setting), college/university, recreational drug use, implied sexual content, M/F, F/F, the author is not religious lmao

word count: 4.3k

current chapters: 2/?

playlist: this one was made with a particular playlist in mind. they are really great songs that help to convey this chapter, so I hope you have a time to check them out! :)

a. slomosa - kevin b. upsahl - drugs c. rosenfeld - like u d. kaiba - overdose e. lil kapow - tinman f. bodega - how did this happen!?

***

all set

I lost count of how many parties I went to this week. There was one at Shina, another at... Sasha's. Wait, was it? Or Ymir's? Honestly, both their houses look fairly similar and we always see the same faces over and over again, regardless of where we are getting wasted. Definitely two at my house. The timeline is blurry at this point. If my liver could talk, it would spit out "Screw you, Eren." and I wouldn't be able to disagree.

Classes will start next week so everyone is acting like we're going to stop doing all this for the rest of the semester. That never happens.

I barely enter Reiner's house and the music is already piercing my head. My ears will soon tell me to go screw myself too. The bass was loud. But it was good.

— Hey, finally — Reiner says, giving a hard slap in my back. I can't even get mad at him because he probably didn't mean for it to hurt. Fucking strong bastard.

— Sorry. Lost track of time.

— You know where the things are — he leaves me behind and disappears through the noisy music.

It's hot inside. August has been particularly cruel this year. I'm using a black t-shirt, which is luckily pretty thin, and my black Adidas pants that are somewhat breathable. My hair is in a bun. I will probably be sweating soon, though. Reiner's AC won't do miracles with this amount of people since it is specially packed today. I guess I might see some new faces tonight, huh.

This fact already makes things more interesting.

I walk through the room and then arrive in the kitchen. Connie and Sasha are there.

— Eren!! — I barely open my mouth to talk and Sasha is already giving me whatever weird drink they made. Their drinks sometimes are... unusual, for the lack of a better word. Most of the time they are simply pure shit. They call it scout's fuel, always the same name regardless of what's inside. Maybe that's why my liver hates me so much.

— Thanks — I'm already used to the goddamn gasoline taste — I guess you both want to get us wasted tonight.

— It's our personal mission, so enjoy the fuel — Connie says laughing, raising his plastic cup. I love this duo – who doesn't? – and I can't help but laugh with them, even though it tastes so bad — Everyone is already here, come on — I follow them and find all the familiar faces I've seen all week: Bertholdt, Historia, Ymir, Mikasa, Annie, Armin, Jean, everyone.

The girls look hot, even though I'm used to them. Either way, I avoid hooking up with my friends since the last time didn't work so well. It's better to avoid Mikasa today.

We all sit together while drinking. I light a joint I had already prepared at home and say — Am I crazy or is Reiner's party bigger than usual? —, releasing the smoke a few seconds after. This one is the best grass we could get around our area, I've saved it primarily for today and now I see that might have been a great decision on my part. I'm glancing through the room and looking for some girls, might share this shit with one - or a few - of them later.

— Thank god, I was tired of seeing your ugly faces every fucking time — Jean says. The girls look at him and he rushes to add — I mean, the boys, of course. It's always nice looking at all of you, ladies.

It's not enough to avoid Annie's kick anyway — We can say the same of you, horse face.

Reiner arrives at the perfect time and explains — Since the new semester starts Monday, news about today traveled fast and we got a lot more company than usual.

— Do you know all of them, Reiner? — Historia asks — I've talked to a bunch of them tonight and there are people from all over the campus and from all years as well — Historia always looks pretty, her blonde hair shining even in the low light of the party. Guys make a line to talk to her at all parties so there's no surprise that she's already familiarized with the whole scenario. I wonder what Ymir thinks of it. Probably followed her during this little field trip.

— Hell, no — he grabs the joint of my hand and sucks deeply — I know some of them and some are Bertholdt's friends but there are some random people.

— I bet Reiner knows a lot of the girls — I take my joint back from his fingers — I assume they aren't Bertholdt's friends, though — and grin.

— Hey, I don't see you with any new company either, dude — Bertholdt tries to grab my weed as well, but I avoid his advances. He instead grabs my cup and drinks all of it, leaving me empty. He makes a funny face at the taste. Suit yourself, man, I think to myself, laughing on the inside.

— Yeah, but I'll work on it in a sec — I tease him knowing that he can't handle much of Sasha and Connie's fuel. He always knocks out before everyone. I hope he realizes he needs to stay awake to try anything with Annie. Someday. He simply never gets there.

Hange arrives almost falling over Ymir and spilling her drink on the floor in the process — I think we should all make a toast and make this last party a wild ride!!! — her yelling stabbing us louder than the music.

— Bitch, you are this fucking drunk already? — Ymir says to her, holding Hange's weight on her back — What the hell did the gasoline duo do to you?

— Okay okay, enough with the questions, let me fill your cups because this is the night! — Sasha says, just pouring all that mystery liquid that soon will go straight to our heads — Also, Reiner, where's the food?

We raise our plastic cups and Connie yells — To the new semester! — and we drink, feeling the immediate burn on our throats. It's hard being a scout.

— I need to get laid today — Jean says as he lays his back on the couch — Gonna arrive for the classes pretty motivated next week — he then rests his left arm at the back pillow, behind Mikasa's head.

— You should start roaming, then — her cold delivery puts Jean's subtle attempt at flirting six feet under the ground, as usual. It was pretty damn quick, but I could notice Mikasa glancing at me and then looking the other way. Yeah, I think I need to start roaming soon, too.

— That sounds great, then let's do that!!! — Hange grabs Jean by the arm and they disappear amongst the crowd.

— When all this fun ends, I'll be the one who will probably have to take him home after he gets slapped by some girls — Armin and Jean live with me so we normally go back together. Armin is the responsible one between us, which is not exactly hard considering how Jean and I are — Gonna at least drink some beer before that happens.

— I'll go with you, this drink sucks — Annie says, finishing the drink anyway and following him. We always drink the last drop of it, we never learn.

The girls went dancing, the music was exceptionally good today. A lot of bands I already liked plus some I have never heard before. I need to remember to ask Reiner for this playlist later. Connie was already surrounded by a different group, everyone likes to talk to him. He is popular. The rest dispersed as well and I could hear Hange's screams far away. This is going to be a night for her, indeed.

I start walking around, meeting a lot of people from my classes and others from the campus in general. I talk to all of them and drink a lot in the process, which feeds my need for nicotine every time. I grab my pack of cigarettes and while smoking, I see Levi.

— I must be dreaming — I say, letting the smoke leave my lips with a smile. It reaches him and looks at me with a deadly expression. He is smoking as well, but he only admits one specific brand of cigarettes and hates all the others. Levi usually doesn't show up at these "brat" parties, as he likes to say, since he's a few years older than us. I normally see him at Shina's, which is a popular club slash bar near our university. He's the owner so we all met him there, after going so many times. Shina has the best parties and the best drinks of all the clubs near us. And it couldn't be any other way, since Levi is a perfectionist. There's also a small stage there, where indie bands perform from time to time. My band does some gigs there sometimes.

— Hey — he replies, as cold as ever. He's Mikasa's cousin, so they have the same expressions and hard-to-approach vibe — Already high, I see.

— Always. In fact, today I hope to be higher than usual. What miracle brings you here?

— Some people from the staff decided to come here today so there are fewer brats to piss me off — he drinks what's probably a high priced whiskey and continues — and there's a new girl at the club so we have been showing her the area for a few weeks now.

— There's a lot of new girls here today — although I know Levi doesn't give a crap.

— So? — yeah, he doesn't.

Levi is a pretty successful business owner and even I have to admit that he's hot – is not only common knowledge but a mutual agreement between everyone –, so girls are always trying to get him, but he doesn't screw most of them. He doesn't fuck brats, period. He says he doesn't have the patience. That makes the girls even more desperate. He has the highest standards of every guy I know. When he was still in university – the same we all go –, he screwed not only the hottest girls but also the professors - which went after him and not the other way around. At least that's what I've heard. I think Levi never had to actively look for any girl, to be honest.

I can only laugh at his reply. That's just so him.

— If you want more stuff than what's already in your system, Floch is over there.

— I want, actually. I was going to look for him — I see Floch's red hair among some folks. Floch is usually as busy as Connie but with less than half of the charisma.

He finishes his cigarette, blowing its last white smoke into the air, and we both hear a loud HELL YEAH!! coming from all the other way across the room — Tsk, is that Hange?

— Pfft, it was before, I think it's Sasha now — he doesn't laugh at my reply. He never does. I think hell would freeze while heaven catches on fire.

I think about the music again. It's so good today, what the hell — Hey Levi, don't you think this playlist is too high quality for a Reiner party? I don't get it, his music taste is always pure trash.

— That's from our new girl — he drinks the last drops of his whiskey and starts to leave — You might find her around here — he then suddenly stops and looks at me — Don't get your hopes up, though.

I am not able to ask what he meant by that because he leaves too quickly. Time to look for Floch.

— Hey, Flo-

— Here.

— You didn't even let me finish.

— I know what you want. You are not in the mood for cocaine so you want MD instead, blah-blah-blah-blah. Is that kind of night — he pauses for mere seconds — Am I wrong, Eren?

— Nope, right as usual — Floch is the main person you go to when you need drugs. I mean, good drugs. He looks like your standard rich boy – which he is, by the way – that can do no wrong, but you can get the best stuff from him. I've always found this funny. The weed I have today was his work. He knows my taste well.

Reiner's frat house is huge, so there's plenty of room to walk. I'm approached by a bunch of girls on the way but for some reason, none of them piques my interest. I am pretty set on going after something new today and I have no problem getting laid. It happened every single day this week and it truly happens anytime I want. Which, okay, boosts my ego a little bit. Maybe a lot. I might even have hurt some girls in the process. I was never slapped though, unlike Jean. So that's a win in my book.

I see a few of my friends again, mainly Historia and Reiner, and they are talking to a girl I've never seen before.

She has long black hair and short messy bangs, the kind that goes a little above the eyebrows. I didn't know black hair was my thing until now. Her face has the perfect features, at least for me. She's wearing a sleeveless white top that is so tight that hugs her figure perfectly and makes her breasts look amazing. That type of top that shows the girl's side boob, and I'm a total sucker for those. It is also short so you can see a bit of her waist. And I don't even have to see her ass because I already know it is probably too damn good. Her light blue ripped jeans are cool as well and she has black sneakers. I like her style. She has a bunch of tattoos - a lot on her right arm, one on her left hand, and probably some that I couldn't see because they were behind her clothes. I intended to, though.

Fuck, she's hot.

Historia looks mesmerized talking to her, which is a very privileged view from where I stand because, as I've already said before, she is also beautiful. But she isn't exactly hot. This girl is. Way too much. Oh, and Reiner is there too. Whatever.

I can see a lot of guys want to approach her but none of them do. I went for it. Wasn't this night supposed to be wild?

— Hey, Eren! Guess what, Y/N is the new DJ at Shina! I was telling her how we go there all the time.

— Hi, Eren, nice to meet you — she says, with that kind of smile that people who know they are hot make. I do that too.

— Hey, Y/N — I say. And as I told you seconds before, I'm good with that type of smile as well so that's what she gets — Levi told me he came with the staff and a new girl, so I suppose that's you.

— Yeah, I'll start there next week.

— I talked to him about the party's playlist because I knew it couldn't be Reiner's.

— Yeah, it's Y/N's. She prepared it for the party when I invited the guys from Shina yesterday. We were in the same high school. — Reiner says that looking at me with a face that shows "See that, dickhead? I've known her for some years now".

— It's pretty good! I can't wait for the next party at Shina's to see your set! — Historia was always an angel.

REINER, WHERE'S THE REST OF THE ICE, MAN??, someone screamed far away.

— Shit. Catch up with you later, Y/N.

Too bad, huh, Reiner? He gives me a look that I can't quite figure out what it is, but I know for sure it wasn't a look of support. In the fucking slightest.

— I think Ymir is calling me as well, sorry!! — It was painfully obvious that Ymir wanted to make out with Historia for some time now. They never did. I think only Historia hasn't realized yet that Ymir is thirsty for her for god knows how long.

After Historia left, there was only me and her — So, by any chance, do you go to the same university as us? You look our age but Levi said you are new here — I tried asking this without looking at her body, but looking at her face was even worse. Her eyes were piercing me in the best way possible.

— I'm not exactly new, I'm from the same uni as you guys, but I took a gap year — she takes a sip of her drink — You probably never met me but I'm in the same year as you all are now.

Since Reiner knew her from high school, he also knew she was at the same university all along and never told any of the guys. Smart fucker.

— So that makes you a year older than me — I smirk at her.

— I guess it does — she smirks back as she lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke at me.

Ok, looking good so far.

I'm pretty high at this point, the MD and the music are making me horny, so I don't even bother to pretend that I'm not looking at her body. I'm looking at everything.

— You took something, didn't you?

— Do you want some? I can show you later where to get the best stuff. Anything you are in the mood for.

— I'm all set — she shows me her tongue and I see the acid. The view makes my own tongue feel lonely, maybe I should use it to steal that from her mouth. I hope she's horny as well.

We talk a lot about music since it's something that we both enjoy. She's passionate about it, I can tell. She asks about my band with true interest. Doesn't sound like small talk. She touches her hair and it makes me want to stuff my face in it. She has the smile that makes you want more. Her voice has the same effect.

The loud music allows us to talk near each other's ears. I hope she moans as loud as her playlist. The girls usually love my hair for some reason, either if it's in a messy bun as it is right now or if it's loose. They all love my green eyes too. She can see all that with somewhat detail since we are so close, even though it is a little dark here. If I take you to a room you can see me better, I almost blurb it out. I can see her too and that kills me.

She looks receptive to me but normally at this point I would be already hooking up with the girl. This time it isn't happening. I never have to work so much. I think I understand why the other guys didn't approach her before. She's a little intimidating to talk to, and that comes naturally to her – it doesn't seem to be on purpose. I flirt with her the way I normally do but she is hard to get, she hits every ball I throw. I remember what Levi said before. Oh, right.

But I'm vibing way too much at this point, I think if I touch any part of her I'll get hard immediately.

— This gap year you've mentioned... Did you go anywhere specific?

— I know it will sound cliché, but I went to Europe.

— Where in Europe?

— Everywhere — she says — I went down — the corner of her lips forming a smile — And up. Everywhere. — and I can swear she sounds flirtatious as hell. I want to bite her lip.

— That sounds... Awesome. — I think she wants to bite me too, or at least I hope she does — Was there any particular reason to leave? If that's not too much to ask.

— Hm, I was kinda... — she stops to think for a few seconds as she holds her hair up and makes a ponytail, looking at the ground, the cigarette glued to her now closed lips. Her neck became exposed, it looks soft as hell and I can't wait to bruise it. She releases the smoke, that flows into the room, and looks deep into my eyes, as deep as I want to be inside her right now — ...stressed.

I reach my limit at this point.

— I can help you with the stress if you want.

— Really? — she's looking at me with the same teasing look and I'm doing the same, so we both know that's not a question I have to answer. Her tongue quickly passes through her top lip, her mouth forming a little wet smile — I don't think I need any help though.

I threw the ball and she hit a home run. My team was out.

I was not expecting that.

We hear some of the guys from Shina calling for her — Oh, they are calling me — Y/N looks at me again and says — See you around, Eren — giving me the same fucking grin I wanted to bite before.

She walks away and I see that her ass is, as I suspected from the very beginning, too damn good.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

After this, some time has passed. I look at the clock. Yeah, maybe a lot. I couldn't tell before because I'm drunk and drugged. I see most of my friends, all fucking wasted. Armin is holding up pretty well, Bertholdt's is knocked down for God knows how long, Mikasa probably smoked way too much weed (who am I to judge?) and looks dead on the couch. I don't see Ymir, Historia nor Reiner - there are too many people in this house to keep count. Sasha's eating something in the kitchen, I can't see what it is, but certainly, she got hungrier than normal after smoking some pot Connie gave her. Connie always holds his drinks well, he's still talking to a lot of people. I pass in front of one of the bathrooms and Hange is there, getting everything out of her system. Oh, and Ymir. There she is, holding Hange's hair, looking as pissed as ever. Levi probably went home hours ago. Jean is making out with some chick, he's going to score tonight. To be fair, he always does, but never with Mikasa.

I saw a lot of pretty girls today and I went for none of them. They tried and I shut them down, even the ones I normally fuck. There's someone I want to taste tonight and she's nowhere to be found. The guys from Shina are missing too, so I know I won't see her today anymore. Damn.

I'm not pissed at her but I'm pissed at the situation.

— Armin, I think I'm going to take off, are you coming?

— Yeah, I'm already pretty tired — he gets up — Jean's probably going to stay here.

— Yep. Probably. — Am I pissed that Jean's getting laid? Even though I could have as well? With someone else, at least? My mood feels off.

— I'm going with you too, I've lost count of how many assholes I had to shut down today. I think I even punched a few — I don't have to look to know that's Annie speaking — You were right, Eren, is it especially crowded today. In the shittiest way possible.

— Then let's go.

— Wait, I need to get my bag first, I left it in Reiner's room.

— I can get that for you, wait up.

— It's a black one. Small.

I sign a thumbs up for her and climb the stairs. I am hundred percent sure I'm going to see someone fucking there but that's the usual. I'm pretty sure I've already seen some people screwing in the corner of the living room minutes before. No one cares.

I open the door and see Y/N in her underwear, putting her white top back on. She does indeed have other tattoos.

— Hey there! — she says smiling, as she also puts her jeans back up, making little jumps so they pass through her ass. Her hair is not in a ponytail anymore.

I say hi in a confusing way.

— I came here to get my friend's bag — I look around for milliseconds like I don't know where the hell I am until I see Reiner lying - clearly naked - under his sheets. Can't be anyone else, with that bleached hair and huge biceps.

What? Ahn?

Hey... Wait a second.

Historia? Clearly naked as well? What. The. Hell. I guess she's not exactly the angel I thought she was?

They are sort of awake, sort of sleeping, kinda like on a different planet. You know, the type of thing that happens after a really strong fuck? That sort. They look exhausted. They look destroyed. And not in a bad way. AT ALL.

— Oh, I saw a bag before. Here you go — she gives me Annie's bag. She's all dressed now. She notices my confusion, I'm too high to act any other way — I've told you I don't need any help — her eyes piercing mine for the hundredth time tonight. Her smile hurts now. Ouch.

She grabs her sneakers and walks towards me and the door:

— I'm all set.

She leaves the room as I hold Annie's bag.

Yeah. I was not expecting that.

***

Thanks for reading (if there's even anyone here lmao). Chapter 2 will be uploaded later but it can be read now at AO3 or Wattpad.

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rosyandraw · 3 years ago

Note

THE WAY YOU CHARACTERIZED DAMEN IN NMFY IS MY SEX DREAM AND IS SO HUMAN AND BEAUTIFUL AND REAL AND HOT AND WOW WOW

like you made damen so real? because sometimes his character always felt like someone who was just meant to kiss the ground laurent walked on and be head over heels for him BUT YOUR DAMEN OH LORD a perfect mixture of teasing laurent and commanding laurent and loving laurent caring for laurent and the confidence in himself and the DOM VIBES OH LORD I AM FANNING MYSELF and of course his whole thing with auguste!!!!! everyone HAS SO MUCH DIMENSION AND IT IS SUCH AN AMAZING STORY i love it you have done god’s work thank you very much i am very excited for everything that will happen

(rlly hoping happy ending bcs well bcs i’m a sucker and laurent loves damen so much and obviously damen loves him so much too he and damen just have all these inner demons they gotta fite thru first)

okay again thank you for this whole wonderful ride i luv u (platonically) for ur wonderful fic!

Omg DON'T this is just making me 😭😭😭 and i'm dead inside so that's a lot okay???

I love that you love my Damen because he's my favourite and I've had so much fun writing him in this!

I FEEL YOU BESTIE! Damen's character gets reduced so much and I feel like a lot of the nuance just disappears.

But I really really love writing characters this way so i'm SO SO GASSED that you think they all have dimension 😭😭 that's like the best compliment????

Lmao the dom vibes 😂😂 those scenes slipped in by accident, I tripped and my keyboard did a thing, I swear.

It will have a happy ending, if I ever write a fic where Damen and Laurent don't end up together then someone should come ask me if i'm okay cos the answer will be no. That's a cry for help 😂

PLATONICALLY!!!! that genuinely made me laugh out loud and i'm in a room full of people so thanks for that 😂😂 I love this comment and I love you too... platonically 😉

Thank you so so much!!!

#writing asks #nmfy #no but really i love this whole comment and you totally just made my day #esp with the damen thing #it's so interesting the split right now in the comments and asks btw #it's like half are team damen and the rest are team laurent and its SO INTERESTING seeing where everyone falls #on the who is in the wrong scale #and then there's everyone crying over auguste #sorry guys #damen of akielos

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spine-buster · 4 years ago

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 32

A/N: Another ‘friend’ of ours makes an appearance in this chapter (unfortunately for me lmao)

August 2nd, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was as prepared as she could be for Game 1 against the Columbus Blue Jackets.

Scotiabank Arena was freezing – more freezing than normal – because of the three-games-a-day and all the hockey being played. She knew the players and team personnel would complain if the ice was crap (apparently they could tell, though it beat the shit out of her how they could tell), and of course Scotiabank Arena, and the Leafs in general, wanted to make an excellent impression. They were the centre of the hockey world, so Aberdeen knew they could pull it off. It just didn’t help that it was August and it felt like early November indoors.

She joined Brendan and Kyle in their usual box – luckily they didn’t have to give that up. The team was taking their pre-game skate below and Aberdeen watched as William shot pucks towards Freddie in the net, sneaking one past him before skating around their perimeter of the rink a few times. On the other side of the ice, the Columbus Blue Jackets were doing the exact same thing, though she barely knew or recognized a soul on the team. One of them could walk by her in the arena and she wouldn’t know better.

“How do you think it’s gonna go?” Brendan asked from six feet away from her, his black mask covering his face.

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders. “You should stop asking me these questions, Brendan. I know nothing about hockey.”

“That may be,” he said, not letting up, “but you know the boys, on a level far superior than your knowledge of hockey. So what do you say?”

Aberdeen thought about it. She knew them on a personal level, but that didn’t matter at all – at least she didn’t think it mattered – when it came to a playoff game. She knew how much pressure the guys were under. She also knew that they were still adjusting to the bubble life and how weird everything was. Make no mistake – they were being taken care of exceptionally well by the staff at the Royal York Hotel, and Aberdeen made sure she said a loud thank you to every worker she came across and interacted with. She heard every single one of the guys do the exact same thing. But she didn’t know how that would translate into a hockey game. They were two different things. They were to different entities that she had no idea how to join together.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, her voice soft. “When you ask me these questions, I feel like you want me to be Nostradamus or something. What if I said they were going to lose 2-0?”

“I’d believe you,” Brendan shrugged.

***

The Leafs lost 2-0.

“C’mon Nostradamus,” Brendan said as he packed up his clipboard and tucked it under his arm. “The social media posts can wait. You need to go mediate the post-game interviews and press calls.”

Aberdeen packed up her iPad after she rolled her eyes. She shouldn’t have said anything. She should have responded ‘They’re going to win 5-0!’ the first time he ever asked her that question and kept that answer throughout the entire season. She followed six feet behind Kyle, who was in turn six feet behind Brendan, as they made their way to the locker room. By the time they got there, Sheldon was nearing the end of his post-game speech. Most of the guys were half undressed – at least at the top – and a few of them were shoving off their elbow pads and chucking their tape from their socks into the bins. They all looked irritated.

She made her way into the media room and set up the Zoom call where a bunch of reporters joined. Morgan and Auston walked into the room, and she quickly typed in the chat which players were there so they could organize their questions accordingly. Morgan and Auston sat down in their chairs.

“Is Steve on the call?” Auston asked suddenly while Aberdeen was adjusting the camera.

“Uh, yeah. Why?” she asked.

Auston pursed his lips together and shrugged it off.

The interviews were going fine. She hated hearing the sound of her own voice on recordings but she knew she’d have to suck it up for the sake of the media call. She called on each reporter by name. The boys answered their questions. It was all very routine.

“Steve Simmons from the Toronto Sun,” Aberdeen called out. She waited, and while waiting, she saw Morgan’s and Auston’s demeanour completely change.

“Uhhh, Steve Simmons, Toronto Sun for Auston – it’s one thing to hear about how tight they play, and to even watch the films of how tight they play. What was it like to experience it?”

Auston took the lead. “Uh, well I mean first of all, it’s unfortunate that I’mn getting a question from you at this point, Steve, but I just wanted to say I didn’t really appreciate the article you wrote about me a couple months ago. I thought, uh, it was very unethical to be honest, but…uh, moving along…”

Aberdeen didn’t hear the rest of his answer. Truthfully, she didn’t care. All she could feel was a burning sensation shooting up her spine at Auston’s words. He did it. He called out Steve Simmons, the most annoying reporter known to mankind.

She smirked.

***

After the media interviews, Aberdeen found a quiet space and took out her iPad again to post the final score graphic to the team’s Instagram page. As she finished typing the caption – ‘Battled hard. Back at it on Tuesday.’ – she heard some fairly loud footsteps behind her before they stopped. “A girl?” a voice from behind her said.

She didn’t recognize it – and it wasn’t like anybody from the team would refer to her as “a girl” – so she furrowed her brows and turned around. She saw what had to be a member of the Columbus Blue Jackets staring at her. She couldn’t see it, but she automatically knew from the way he was standing and the energy he gave off that he was smirking smugly underneath his mask. “Yeah, we exist,” she shot him a look, not ready to take any bullshit from him or anybody else. The way these men thought she was a complete novelty astounded her. “Have you never seen one of us before?”

“So Barzy was right,” the man continued. “The Leafs have a girl in their bubble. Incredible.”

Aberdeen could tell by the way he said and emphasized girl that this conversation – if you could call it that – was gonna be a doozy. The guy was huge but didn’t look any older than she was, so she knew she would be able to put him in his place. “What are you even doing in this hallway? You’re not supposed to be on this side,” she said sternly. “I suggest you leave and go back to your area of the arena unless you want me to complain to the NHL that your breaching protocol.”

From the very end of the hallway, another figure walked by, stopping at the gap when he apparently found who he was looking for. Aberdeen could at least recognize him – John Tortorella, the head coach of the Columbus Blue Jackets. “Pierre, what the fuck are you doing there? Come on, we gotta go.”

The man, named Pierre, gave Aberdeen a smoldering look. She rolled her eyes. “Must have taken a wrong turn,” he said, loud enough so John would hear.

Dead set on not taking any bullshit, and just really, really wanting to put this guy in his place, Aberdeen didn’t let up. “Perhaps you should remind Pierre of how to speak to the staff of another NHL team,” she said sternly. Both men were too far away to notice how red she was getting, but she could see Pierre whip his head to look at her and his eyes go wide in shock. “And perhaps he should read another copy of the social distancing and bubble protocols tonight in his bedroom so he doesn’t make this unfortunate decision again,” she said, deliberately using ‘decision’ instead of ‘mistake’, because she fucking knew this was no mistake. She wondered what other rumours were swirling in the Royal York about a girl being in the Leafs bubble.

Pierre scurried to the end of the hallway. From her spot, she could hear John chuckle. “You must be the Aberdeen Bloom I’ve only ever heard good things about,” he said. “Keep it up. I might ask you to take my place to keep the boys in line.”

She couldn’t help but smile. Pierre took one last look between his coach and ‘the girl’. “I could take ‘em,” Aberdeen commented, getting a nod from John before he and Pierre disappeared.

She let out a breath.

***

After the team got back to the hotel, picked up their pre-packaged dinner, and settled into their rooms, Aberdeen showered and changed. She sat at the desk where she put the meal and took out her phone. She sent some quick texts to her parents, Siena, and Camden before bringing up William’s name.

U up?

lmao minskatt isnt that what i should be saying to u *wink emoji*

Do you want to eat dinner together?

of course

I’m ready whenever you are babe

She waited for him to start the call. Not even two minutes later, her phone began to ring and “Head Empty” flashed across the screen. She accepted the FaceTime call almost immediately. When it connected and he appeared on her screen, walking in his hotel room with his bathrobe on and his hair wet and tied back, she smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi minskatt,” he said, his voice low. She watched as he put a pair of headphones on. “That’s better.”

Hers were already in. “I’m sorry about the game tonight,” she said, perching her phone on a high point on the desk. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Not really. At least, not right now,” he said, putting his phone down too. “Maybe later. Like, after we have dinner.”

“Promise me we will.”

“I promise,” he said, looking into the phone. He knew she would want him to talk about it, and he made her a promise all those months ago. He would never break it. “Right now I just want to have dinner over FaceTime with my girlfriend even though we’re less than fifty feet away from each other.”

Aberdeen chuckled, if only because she agreed wholeheartedly that this whole thing was ridiculous. The tone of William’s voice made her know that he thought it completely ridiculous too. “It’s hard. I know. At least we get free food,” she held up a forkful of the marinated chicken breast. “And good food. It’s not like it’s airplane food.”

William smiled slightly. “First thing I do when we get out of here is bring you to Canoe or Ardo or Miku and splurge on every meal they have on the menu,” he said.

“Sounds good to me. Maybe by then I’ll have a new job to celebrate, anyway.”

“How’s the article coming along?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said. She’s started in the other day and already had about 1500 words worth of material. She figured the best way to go about it was keep a sort of diary every day and then edit it down when she could. “Might talk about how fucking awkward you hockey boys are these days with women.”

“I’m excluded from that, right?” he asked. “I mean, I totally swept you off your feet when we first met.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “You did.”

***

August 3rd, 2020

Aberdeen accompanied the team to one of the workout facilities just so she could catch a glimpse of sone sunshine on the day off. Instead of working out, she sat on the sidelines of where all the equipment was and the boys worked out, furiously typing away on her personal laptop. Every so often when she’d glance up, she’d see Morgan’s thighs almost ripping through his shorts as he did some lunges; she’d see Auston’s biceps almost bursting through his sleeves as he lifted weights above his head; she’d see William’s thick torso exposed as his shirt rode up from him throwing a heavy medicine ball above his head.

A million girls in this city would kill her to be in her position.

And here she was, writing 10,000 words about them instead of ogling them. Well, everyone except her secret boyfriend.

***

August 4th, 2020

Game 2.

Aberdeen was confident that the boys would respond to Columbus’s win in Game 1. She could tell in their energy throughout the day and in the arena they were ready and they were ready to win.

“Hey Nostradamus,” Brendan called out, winking. Aberdeen saw Kyle chuckle from behind his mask. “What’s the score gonna be?”

“Oh shut it,” she shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking to herself. Except she couldn’t hold her tongue. “3-0, but this time for us.”

“I believe her!” Kyle piped up.

Brendan snorted. “Who’s placing bets?!”

The bell rang and everybody settled down to stand for the anthem. As the game got underway, Aberdeen could feel rushes of electricity move up her spine every time the Leafs touched the puck. They were playing phenomenally. They looked focused, into it, and like a complete team. It was a night and day difference from Game 1. Though the first period didn’t have any goals, Aberdeen knew they’d be coming – for the Leafs only.

In the second period Auston scored and Aberdeen jumped out of her seat to celebrate. And when John scored late in the third period to get a two goal lead, she was even happier.

Then, with less than two minutes left, disaster hit.

It was a play behind the net. Pierre Luc Dubois – the guy from the other day, Aberdeen had learned – basically cross-checked Jake Muzzin, and Jake fell awkwardly, trying to break it, with his head hitting a Blue Jackets player’s leg. He fell to the ice.

He wasn’t getting up. And the referee hadn’t blown the whistle.

Those fuckers.

“BLOW THE FUCKING WHISTLE!!!” Aberdeen screamed at the top of her lungs, startling Brendan and Kyle. Her face was turning red. She was sure she’d been so loud the referee actually heard her, because he finally blew it. Jake was having a hard time getting up, and then he lay back down. One of the trainers immediately made his way onto the ice, rushing towards Jake.

The replays began to play from every angle, and Aberdeen watched on the TV screen in the box how his head and neck contorted once he hit the player’s thigh. She had tears in her eyes as she watched the worst angles. She looked back out onto the ice to see Jake still lying there. The trainer was still with him, though more were making their way onto the ice now. Then, she saw one of the trainers put his hands near Jake’s neck. They called for a stretcher.

She bolted out of her seat.

“Aberdeen!” she could hear Brendan call out after her, but she didn’t listen. She didn’t turn around. She hurried down to ice level, her mind running a mile a minute, and flashed her credentials to anyone and everyone she needed to, not bothering to stop so they could actually see them.

By the time she got to ice level, she could hear the distant sound of sticks tapping, letting her know he was being stretched off. She met all the trainers and the stretcher at the entrance. “Jake?!” she asked frantically.

“Aberdeen?” he asked.

“Are you okay? Did you break your neck?!”

“I didn’t break my neck. I can feel my arms and legs,” he said. Aberdeen let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding in. “Did it look scary?”

“Is that a joke?” she asked. “I ran down here the second they called for the stretcher.”

“We’re going to take him to the hospital. He’s going to have to leave the bubble,” the head trainer informed Aberdeen. “You need to tell Brendan and Kyle. Then update us on the protocol of what it will take to get him back into the hotel.”

Before she could acknowledge what was just said, Jake spoke up again. “Aberdeen?”

“Yeah Jake?”

“You need to call Courtney for me. Tell her I’m okay,” he said. “She’s probably worried sick.”

Aberdeen’s heart sunk into her stomach. Courtney. “Yeah yeah, of course—”

“—You have her number, right—”

“—We really need to get him to the hospital—”

“—Yeah, I have her number—”

“—Call Courtney, please,” were Jake’s last words before he was stretchered off.

Aberdeen watched until they were out of her line of sight. For a few moments, the images of what just happened flashed through her mind, and she momentarily forgot about everything. She felt sick to her stomach. Jake said he felt okay, but she knew hockey players always just said that. Morgan had been playing injured for the better part of the year until he actually got injured. High sticks to the face, lost teeth, blood drawn – these guys just put a bandaid on it and said they were fine. But this was different.

When Courtney’s face crossed her mind, she jolted back to life and grabbed her phone out of her pocket, scrolling until she found Courtney’s number. The phone didn’t even have to ring twice. “Aberdeen?!” she asked frantically. “How’s Jake?”

“Hey Court—he’s okay—”

“He’s okay?!”

“Well, they’re bringing him to the hospital right now,” she said. “But I was able to talk to him because I rushed down to ice level and he told me he was fine and to call you.”

“So you—you were able to talk to him,” Courtney said, her voice much calmer than just moments before. “You saw him?”

“Yes. He told me he could move his arms and legs,” Aberdeen informed her.

“Okay. Okay. Does that mean he has to leave the bubble though? I mean can I go visit him?”

Aberdeen cringed. “I don’t think so,” she said. As she did, she could hear Luna being fussy in the background and Courtney trying to calm her. “The NHL has an agreement with Toronto General about potential injuries. If everything is okay and he comes back into the bubble, all he has to do is pass three negative tests,” she explained, listening to Luna get even fussier.

“Okay. Alright. But they’ll call me, right?”

“Absolutely. I’m sure Jake will even be able to call you from the hospital. Our trainers all have their phones on them.”

“Thanks Aberdeen,” Courtney said, and Aberdeen could hear the relief in her voice. She knew all Courtney wanted was to hear from her husband. Luna let out a loud cry. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Court,” Aberdeen ended the call.

Families. So many of them had families. So many of them had families that were suffering and making do with a prolonged absence and Aberdeen couldn’t take it. The players were sacrificing so much to be in the bubble. And their families were sacrificing so much letting them go into the bubble. She knew most of them had money – to cope, to do whatever, really – but that didn’t compensate for presence. That didn’t compensate for having daddy around to play and snuggle with.

She began to cry as she found herself walking towards the locker room, not even knowing whether or not the game had ended. She didn’t really care at this point. All she could think about was Courtney and Luna at home, worrying about Jake as he was being taken to the hospital. To Aberdeen, nothing else mattered right now.

She heard some commotion from the locker room and she knew the boys were back in. She didn’t know how long they’d been back for, and didn’t bother to peek in to see. She didn’t want to when her eyes were still red and welling up with tears. Instead, she hid herself around a corner, crouching down with her knees against her chest, wiping at her eyes every so often and trying to control her emotions before having to go in, or getting called by Brendan, or by Kyle, or—

“There you are.”

Well, so much for that.

She looked up from her crouched position and saw Jason looking down at her. He wasn’t completely undressed – he had all his UnderArmour on – but he was still sweaty from the game and his hair was matted against his head. She wiped her eyes one last time before getting up. “Hi.”

“Did you see Jake?”

She nodded. “He’s okay. He can feel and move his arms and legs or whatever.”

“Why are you crying?”

She knew he wasn’t asking to be insolent, but did she really have to have to spell it out for him? “Don’t tell me you’re immune to this shit,” she said. “I just had to call Courtney and explain to her that her husband didn’t break his neck and end his God damn career. Luna was crying in the background. It’s a lot, okay?”

Jason nodded his head. “I know it is. I’m not trying to…fuck, I know that came out wrong. He’s gonna be okay, Aberdeen.”

“Thanks.”

“Come on, Aberdeen,” he said soothingly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She shook her head, wiping away the last of her tears. “I know. I’m just being a big baby.”

“No you’re not,” Jason said. “You’re not being a big baby. You’re being a human being. Someone you cared about got hurt. Do you want to talk about it when you get back to the hotel?” he asked.

She considered it for only half a second before she shook her head. “No. I know you call your girls every night. I can’t take time away from them.”

“Aberdeen—”

“I’ll be okay,” she asserted. “I promise. I’ll be okay.”

“Aberdeen!” Kyle’s voice suddenly called out. He rushed towards her with his phone in his hand. “They took him to the hospital, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded her head, trying to steady her voice and make it seem as professional as possible. “He’s technically left the bubble, so we have to update the trainers on protocol to get him back into the hotel and how—”

“I’ll handle that with Brendan and Josh,” he interrupted. “But he was okay?”

“He could feel his arms and legs. That’s what he told me. Then he asked me to call Courtney and I did that.”

Kyle nodded his head, looking – really looking – at Aberdeen for the first time in their conversation. “Were you crying?”

“I’m going to be fine,” was all she said.

***

“I’m going to come to your room,” William said through the phone in a strained voice.

“Don’t you dare,” Aberdeen chastised him, a new batch of tears having fallen down her face as she lay in bed. “Don’t you even think about leaving your room, William.”

“Aberdeen, you need me and I need to be with you right now—”

“And you need to stay in your room so you don’t get kicked out of the bubble,” she said sternly. “I’m being serious, Will. Don’t come over.”

She watched as he bit his lip and shook his head. She could see all over his face how conflicted he was. It was one of the things she loved most about him – to the world, he seemed cool and unemotional and that he didn’t really care about anything or take anything too seriously, but to her, he was the entire range of emotions in one conversation. He had a heart full of gold and she knew it would always stay that way. “This is killing me, minskatt,” he whispered, his voice defeated. “I want to be there for you when you need me. Always. I mean…you need me, right?”

Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know where this was coming from, but like some things with William, she felt like it was something that had been on his mind for a while and was only letting out now. He was still learning to talk to her about his feelings. He was keeping his promise from February, so she could appreciate that. “Of course I need you,” she said softly. “I’ll always need you like you need me. We’re in this together. You know that. But you need to be on this team right now. You need to help them fight. This isn’t about me. It’s about the team.”

“It’s always about you,” William said. “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s always about you.”

“Don’t make it about me right now, Willy. It’s not about me. It’s about Jake, and the team,” she paused for dramatic effect. “Make it about me later,” she added, trying to be humourous.

It garnered a small smile from him, and she felt proud of herself. “I love you, minskatt.”

“I love you too Willy. Promise me you’ll get some sleep?”

He nodded slightly. “I promise.”

***

Aberdeen’s iPhone was still in her hands as she woke again from its vibrations. She jumped at the sensation of being awoken in the middle of the night. If it was Willy calling her at three in the morning, she was gonna kill him.

“Hello?” her voice was groggy.

The voice on the other end was not William’s. “I lived, bitch.”

***

August 6th, 2020

It wouldn’t be a Toronto Maple Leafs series without some drama, apparently. And the drama tonight was how the team blew a 3-0 lead, allowing the Columbus Blue Jackets to win 4-3 in overtime, with Pierre-Luc Dubois scoring a hattrick. That meant the Columbus Blue Jackets were now up 2-1 in the series.

It meant the Leafs could go home tomorrow.

Aberdeen tried not to think about it.

She didn’t bring it up with anybody as they went back to the hotel, and she knew, judging by the looks on their faces, that they didn’t want to hear about it either. Nobody would be turning on their TVs tonight, and she doubted they would check the news on their phones, either. Maybe they’d play video games to take their minds off of it. Or maybe they’d go right to bed and rest, since they had to do all of this again in less than 24 hours. Fuck.

Aberdeen took a shower. She washed her face. She did her skincare. She put on a sheetmask.

Her phone rang.

She knew it was William, so she tucked herself into bed and accepted the FaceTime call. When he realized that she had a sheetmask on, a smile broke out on his face from ear to ear. “Nice sheetmask,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

She smiled cheekily and shrugged her shoulders. “You’re used to it by now. Shouldn’t come as much of a surprise,” she said.

“I am used to it by now and—oh shit, hold on, I forgot something…” he said, trailing off as he set his phone down so Aberdeen could only see the ceiling in his room. Knowing William, he probably forgot to turn the light off in the bathroom or something. But the longer he took, the more Aberdeen became skeptical of his whereabouts. She barely heard anything on the other end. “There we are…” she heard his voice. And then she saw what he had on his face: a sheetmask. He was still smiling from ear to ear. “Now where were we?” he asked.

“William!” Aberdeen squealed, letting out giggles she couldn’t hold in at the sight of him. He looked ridiculous. It was clearly the first time he’d ever put one on himself. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

“You love these things!” he tried to justify himself. “I brought one because I knew I’d catch you at least once in here with one of these things on. And if we can’t do it together…well, physically, then we can do them together in separate rooms. Like everything else we need to do.”

Her cheeks flushed red – not that he could see. He bought sheetmasks and put them on with her. He gave her time to write. He encouraged her writing. He listened to her. He cared for her. He was even better than anything she could have imagined in a dream boyfriend. How did she get so lucky? How did she let guys treat her like shit before him? She felt tears well in her eyes. He was going all out to make the best of the bubble, and she couldn’t be more thankful. “I love you so much, Willy.”

“I love you too, minskatt.”

“No…I love you Willy. Like love you love you. Love you love you love you. I don’t even have the words…and I’m a writer! You make me speechless, Willy. There aren’t enough words in the English or Swedish languages that I can string together that will, like, tell you or show you how much I love you.”

“I get it, minskatt. Don’t worry. I feel the same way.”

“I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

“I annoyed you enough until I wore you down,” he quipped.

She giggled. “You seduced me is what I’d call it.”

“I don’t know about that. If I remember correctly it was you rubbing yourself against my thigh that morning.”

She made a face at him. He made the exact same face back but crinkled his sheetmask so he had to flatten it with his free hand. She watched him with complete adulation. “Willy?”

“Minskatt?”

“Can we listen to our song together?”

William smiled. He fiddled around with his phone and his ‘Minskatt’ playlist until the familiar chords started playing over the phone, filling the air with the nicest, best, most beautiful sound Aberdeen had ever heard – save for Willy’s laugh, maybe – because she knew this song was about her, about them, and it was still their little secret.

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milstrim · 4 years ago

Text

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 2: Right Through You

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

"I'm sorry." It was the last thing Spider-Man said before he swung away, swallowed by the darkness of an alleyway. It was a whimpered choke. Fearful.

"No! Wait--" Tony tried to call, but it was too late. The man was gone. No. Not a man. A fifteen year old. Tony glanced down at his shadow and then back at where Spider-Man had disappeared. Spider-Man was his soulmate. And he was fifteen. Tony had to catch himself against the wall as his chest squeezed painfully tight and his throat closed up in panic, barely managing to mutter out, "Jesus Christ. Fifteen."

That was horrifying on an entirely different level than what had just transpired. Not only had his soulmate flinched away from him and then run off the first chance he'd gotten, he was swinging around the streets of New York and putting himself in danger and he was a kid. Did his parents know? Maybe that was why the kid had run off so quickly. He'd freaked out so horribly when he'd realized the time that Tony had to blink away the horrible memories of his own father with his backhanded slaps and harsh words that had stung even more.

Tony sucked in a cold breath as he stared at the spilled hot chocolate mixing with his own dropped coffee. How often had Spider-Man been hurt? On the street or at home? Suddenly all Tony knew was terror at the implication and newfound knowledge of just exactly who his soul was connected to. Just who the shadow that had been with him for fifteen years really had been. And all he knew was the horrible guilt that he clearly wasn't what his soulmate had been looking for. Could soulmates be wrong? Knowing himself, it was possible.

The mechanic shook his head furiously, forcing himself to stop leaning on the wall and take a deep breath. He'd found his soulmate--sort of--and he wasn't about to just let them go that easily. If he could just have one good conversation, preferably without that mask, about their connection, everything would be okay. Or, it could at least be resolved. If the kid didn't want to know him, didn't want to be his soulmate--well...

Tony sniffed, snatching the cups off of the pavement and throwing them in the trash. He'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

Tony began to make his way back to the tower, his steps slow and stumbled, eyes fixated on his shadow whenever it came into view. After a few minutes, the hood disappeared and fuzzy hair took its place. Well, now he knew why his shadow always looked like they were bald in the afternoon and at night.

"Friday," Tony started, his glasses lighting up at the call of his voice. "I need a full search of the city. As in-depth as you can get it. Follow Spider-Man, look for his identity, and focus on kids born on August tenth, 2001."

"There are six hundred thirteen people born on that day currently living in New York."

"Okay, filter out for boys in Queens. Between 5'7" and 5'9."" He paused, thinking about the fingers that he'd seen through Spider-Man's gloves. "Lighter skin, too."

"I have forty-two possible matches."

"Well, it's better than six hundred," Tony sniffed. "Keep an eye on them, and keep a special eye on Spidey. If he looks like he's in a situation he can't handle, alert me. Or just tell me the next time he pops up."

"Of course, sir," Friday agreed. "What shall I file this under?"

Tony mused for a moment. "Create a new file, and place it on my private server. Name it 'The Itsy Bitsy Spider.'"

Hopefully he'd have a face to that protocol soon.

---

Peter stumbled up to the front door of the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, his breaths quick and furious as he scrambled for a decision. After escaping from Mr. Stark's disappointment, he'd fled across the bridge and eventually found an alleyway to change into where his spidey sense had finally calmed down. Cameras were following Peter now wherever he went as Spider-Man now, he was sure, so he'd had to be painfully and slowly careful. Finding an alleyway out of the sight of any cameras had been simple enough, but it would be relatively easy for Mr. Stark to triangulate his location, so Peter had changed and thrown on a hood and forced himself to become lost in the New York crowd of people on the night shift or party-goers higher than a kite.

So far, the teenager thought he'd managed to get away with it, but he'd have to be more careful about when he went out if he didn't want Mr. Stark to find out who he was. The man already seemed disappointed to find out his soulmate was Spider-Man, he couldn't imagine what realizing it was actually Peter Parker would do to him.

Peter swallowed down the trepidation that bubbled under his skin in boiled anxiety as he shuffled in front of the door to the group home. Maybe Mr. Fowler hadn't realized he was late and he could try and sneak in through the window instead of being caught outside the door. Then again, if he did know, he was likely waiting for Peter to slip in that way and catch him red-handed. The real question was what would end in less punishment?

The teenager's musings were cut short by a spike in spidey sense and the wrenching open of the chipped red door, bringing with it the dangerous stench of stale beer. Mr. Fowler's displeased grin froze Peter to the floor in terror until an outstretched hand reached out and gripped his arm in a vice. "You're late."

Peter held back a wince as he was pulled in through the door, forcing himself to stumble along as the door was slammed shut behind him, rattling the old building. Mr. Fowler dragged him towards the dining room as he rushed to apologize. "Sorry, Mr. Fowler. I--I didn't mean to! I just got caught up on the subway and my phone died and--"

"I've heard that one before," the man snapped. Peter's jaw clamped shut with an audible click. He bit his tongue to keep his feeble excuses from escaping as he was pushed into a chair roughly. The man's hand gripped onto Peter's shoulder painfully tightly, but the liquor on his breath kept the boy glued to the chair more obediently than anything else. "Now where have you actually been, Peter?"

"I-I didn't mean to be late," he tried again. "I was just--"

There was a harsh smack to the back of his head, whipping it forward. Peter winced, but it didn't really hurt, so he forced himself to sit still. He was fine. Mr. Fowler couldn't really hurt him, and even if he did, it didn't matter. Peter would heal. Every bruise he'd ever gotten here had always been gone by the morning.

"Enough with the excuses, Pete," Mr. Fowler ordered. "I just need an answer for the report now that I have to write up your next strike."

Peter flinched. The system at the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys was extremely strict. Three strikes and you're out. Peter already had one strike when Mr. Fowler had caught him sneaking an extra snack after dinner. He'd been drunk then too.

Four strikes meant that Peter would be moved to another home for "troubled teens." That he'd attend another school and have to forge a new system of being Spider-Man. And, most importantly, it meant he'd be leaving the younger kids here to Mr. Fowler's wrath by themselves. Peter was the second oldest at the group home of six. Jeremiah was the oldest, but he'd be aging out in barely a month, leaving Peter to try and take care of the others, all no older than twelve.

Peter would heal, they wouldn't. It was as easy as that. But it didn't seem like Peter was going to escape this strike and that he'd have to be careful about even thinking about patrolling for a few weeks. Then again, with Mr. Stark possibly looking for him, maybe it was for the best. And it would just be for a little bit. Just a little bit.

There was a horrible shiver up the teenager's spine, and Peter had to force himself to stay still as there was another slap to his head, this one harder than before. He bit his lip as Mr. Fowler leaned in closer, the staleness of liquor on his breath making the boy's nose crinkle in barely concealed disgust.

"Listen to me when I'm talking to you, son," Mr. Fowler sneered. "Failure to do so can end in another strike, y'know. Two in one day and you'll be shipped off to Jersey tomorrow morning. So?"

Peter took a deep breath through his nose and grit his teeth. He knew what the man wanted to hear. What he wanted to put in Peter's file. It seemed to be a personal pleasure of his to fuck with his file, and all the other boys' really, as much as humanly possible.

"I was out goofing off with some friends. We were smoking and throwing cans at cars and I lost track of time."

Mr. Fowler tutted. "So irresponsible, Pete. I will have to write that up, y'know, and you'll receive the usual grounding. One week. Now why don't you go and head to bed?"

It wasn't a question, so Peter stood shakily and forced himself near the stairs, knowing better than to ask if he'd get some kind of food before he went to sleep. He wouldn't be getting any dinner for the entirety of his grounding anyway. Peter was lucky that he got away without any bruises, instead only escaping with a dull pain in the back of his head.

He slipped up the stairs and into the room he shared with Jeremiah and Tim. Jeremiah had his back turned to Peter, clearly just fixed to keep his head down for the next month, but Tim was sat up straight in bed, bright black eyes staring at Peter in awed worry. The teenager forced himself to look away, instinctively turning to his dull shadow but snapping away from that as well to stare at his bed instead.

"Go to sleep, Tim. You have school tomorrow."

"But, Peter--"

"Go to sleep, Tim," he said again, a little more forcefully this time. Tim stared at him for another painful moment before slipping down under his covers and turning to face the wall opposite Peter. It dragged a stone of guilt into his stomach, but Peter just couldn't at the moment. Even as he changed out of his ratty clothes into even rattier pajamas, the new knowledge of who his shadow really was wouldn't leave.

Peter turned the light off in the hall and closed the door to him and the other boys' room, grateful for the first time in his life to see his shadow disappear. He knew he was being just a little ridiculous, it wasn't like Mr. Stark hated him or anything, at least, Peter didn't think he did. But, well, the teenager was exactly that; a teenager. One that was poor and alone and had superpowers that he used to do little good deeds around his neighborhood. And Mr. Stark was Mr. Stark. The universe had to have been wrong this one time.

And what was worse was that Peter had just run away. He'd acted like an overdramatic romcom character when discovering that their soulmate was the quarterback they hated or something. It was possibly the worst part of all of this.

Peter kept in a sigh as he dropped onto his old mattress, pulling the lumpy covers over himself and squeezed his eyes shut in a half-assed attempt to bully out the pain of hunger in his stomach and the ache of undeserved longing in his heart. He so desperately wanted to be able to know his soulmate, but there was no way that Mr. Stark would be excited to actually know him. Besides, Mr. Stark pushed the Accords, and Peter was an unlicensed vigilante on the street. It was the man's job to find out who he was and turn him in.

Being soulmates didn't change that, even as his vision flashed to show a dark and fancy lab. Well, now he knew why his soulmate had always had such nice stuff.

---

"You what?"

"I found my soulmate," Tony snipped. "Keep up, honey bear. You're losing your touch, old man."

Rhodey ignored his comment, still staring at Tony from where he sat on a box in the Avengers common room that was probably filled with either dishes or Avengers gear. Tony passed the colonel a horribly green smoothie that he accepted without complaint, still staring at Tony but this time with a wide smile on his face.

"You really found him? Just walking around Manhattan?" Rhodey asked.

"Well, technically someone was trying to kidnap me, but sure."

"I'm sorry. What?"

"Relax. Everything turned out fine since my soulmate showed up."

Rhodey gave him a look, eyes glancing from the billionaire to the short shadow on the ground. "Your soulmate who is fifteen, saved you from a kidnapping?"

"Well, yeah. But he's got superpowers, so I don't think it was much of a sweat for him."

"Super--who the hell is your soulmate? Is this Twenty Questions? First guess: Ant Man."

"Hardy har," Tony joked. "No, not Lang. It's the spider kid."

Rhodey paused. "You have no idea who he is, do you?"

Tony shrugged, twirling the straw of his own green smoothie for a slight distraction from the fact that his soulmate had flinched and then ran away from him. It had kept him up with an anxiety-filled kind of drive as he'd tried to pick out which of the kid's was his little shadow. He'd only managed to weed out a few of the kids of the forty-something.

"No. He, uh, ran away. Friday's on the job looking for him right now, but he's a slippery one, 'cause, uh, no luck so far."

"I'm sorry, man," Rhodey apologized. "That sucks. Do you...do you know why he ran?"

"Something about a curfew."

"Then maybe he'll be out soon looking for you. Once school is out for the day, of course."

"Yeah. Maybe," Tony agreed, but he thought differently. The shake in the kid's voice, the flinch as he'd ducked away from Tony's hand, and the horrible defensive tenseness when he'd looked away from their switched shadows to look at him. He didn't think Spidey was exactly thrilled, or that he'd be looking for a way to tell the billionaire exactly who he was.

"Any flashes?" Rhodey asked. Tony hummed in confusion. "Since you realized you were soulmates?"

"Oh, uh, just a room last night. I don't know, it was pretty hard to make out." Tony had turned off all the lights in his lab once he'd arrived in it, hoping for some kind of flash of where his soulmate was. It had been reassuring to see the connection still intact, but it wasn't like the dark and bare bedroom had been much help. "I think he has siblings or something. There was another bed in there. Oh, add that to the search engine, Friday."

"Of course, sir. Now down to twenty-eight kids."

Tony smiled. Maybe he was actually getting somewhere.

---

"You what?"

"Shut up, Ned," Peter shushed, curling forward in another sit-up to hiss at his best friend who was staring at him in amazement. Ned didn't seem deterred in the slightest, but at least his voice dropped to match Peter's hushed whisper.

"I can't shut up. I'll never be able to shut up again! You met Tony Stark last night! This is the greatest day of my life."

"It really wasn't that big of a deal," Peter lied. He had conveniently left out the part where the billionaire was his soulmate, and considering Ned's reaction of his just meeting the guy, Peter was going to keep that to himself for the time being. Or forever. Whichever came first. Ned continued to stare at him in astonishment, and Peter relented as he curled up again. "Okay, it was pretty cool. He bought me a drink."

"What, like a beer?"

"No, Ned, a hot chocolate."

"Ohhh. That makes more sense."

"Yeah," Peter agreed. "And keep it down. Please? I don't need anyone thinking I drank last night. Mr. Fowler already put a new load of bullshit on my record and you know all the teachers get updates on the shit I do."

Ned's eyes darkened. "He gave you another strike?"

"Yeah," Peter panted, curling up faster as anxiety pumped underneath his skin. "My fault. Stupid. Shouldn't have been late."

"How late were you?"

"Like, ten minutes I think."

Ned spluttered, "But it was just ten minutes!"

"Mr. Fowler's a rule stickler," he half-truthed. Ned didn't need to know how shitty his group home leader was. "I'll just have to be more careful for a while and get back on his good side." Like Mr. Fowler had a good side. "It'll be fine in another week or two."

Ned clearly wanted to protest more, his friend was always so suspicious of Mr. Fowler and so insistent that Peter should just tell the man that he was Spider-Man and that he was helping people. Well, Ned thought they should tell everyone that he was Spider-Man, clearly thinking that it would help him get away with late assignments or missing curfew, but really it would only succeed in him getting arrested. Besides, now that Mr. Stark might be looking for him, he was determined more than ever to keep his identity safe.

Coach Wilson passed by, complementing, "Looking good, Parker."

Peter slowed down, faking a tired grimace and just wishing with every fiber of his being that PE would be over soon.

"So I guess that's a no on Liz's party, then?" Ned asked. Peter turned away from watching Coach Wilson walk away to stare at his friend.

"Liz is having a party?"

"Yeah? She talked about it last decathlon practice. Were you not paying attention?"

"I guess not. My bad," he mumbled. "Is it tonight?"

"Yeah, but you're probably in trouble aren't you?"

"Yeah," Peter agreed, thinking about the dinner he was going to miss tonight. Then again, if he went to the party, not only would Liz be there, but there'd probably be some snacks too. "But my curfew doesn't change."

"It doesn't?"

"I don't think it ever will. Like I said, Mr. Fowler is a stickler for rules, and the curfew is his favorite. It's completely unmovable in his mind."

"Weird."

"Yeah. He's pretty strange," Peter agreed. "So, what time tonight?"

"Seven, I think. And anyway, remember my idea about telling everyone that you're--"

"No, Ned. We're not telling people that I'm--" he lowered his voice dramatically, "--that I'm Spider-Man."

Ned pouted. "Fine. But could you, I don't know, appear as Spider-Man?"

"What? Why?"

"C'mon! Think about how cool it would be if you dropped down and were like, 'Hey, Ned! Whattup? Where's my buddy, Peter? 'Cause we're besties and I'm a cool superhero!' Wouldn't that be cool!?"

Peter stared.

"Ned, literally no one cares about Spider--"

"Now, see, for me, it would be F Thor, marry Iron Man, and kill Hulk," came the voice of the girl's sitting on the bleachers. Peter and Ned turned to listen.

"Well, what about the Spider-Man?" Charles asked.

"It’s just Spider-Man," Betty replied. Peter raised an eyebrow at Ned in a way that meant, See?

"Did you guys see the bank security cam on YouTube? He fought off four guys," Liz argued, her voice climbing just a little higher. Peter's eyes widened.

"Oh my God, she’s crushing on Spider-Man."

"No way."

Liz shrugged, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. "Kind of?"

Peter turned back to Ned. "Yeah. Okay, sure, I'll bring the suit."

---

"Thank you, Mrs. Leeds!" Peter called, waving at the woman through her beat up green Toyota. She waved back at him and Ned with a cheery smile.

"See you two boys later! I'll be back at nine to make sure you're home on time, Peter."

"Thank you!" he said again as she drove off.

"Bye, Mom!" Ned said. There were a few looks sent their way, but Peter didn't really care. Even when Flash liked to humiliate him in front of the other kids at school, Peter never felt more than surface level embarrassment. He was past the point of caring about high school drama, but Ned ducked his head nervously, readjusting his new hat. His friend turned to him and whispered, "Dude, you have the suit right?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Peter gestured to his backpack. "Yeah."

"This is gonna change our lives," Ned squeed as they stepped up the driveway. Liz had a large house on a well-lit street in the suburbs. He could see even more colorful lights inside, just as bright as the music was, and anxiety rolled in his chest. He didn't care about what other people thought of him, he really didn't, but he couldn't stop the nerves at such an unfamiliar environment.

Peter stared down at his shadow on instinct, searching for comfort in the familiar fluffy hair. Catching himself, he forced himself to turn away and stare forward as he stepped through the door behind Ned.

He almost stumbled back as the noise hit him. There was the movement of chatter and the blaring of shitty and loud music. Peter stared as some girls walked past, swallowing nervously as his gaze went from them, to Flash DJ-ing, and then landing on Michelle, who glared at them as she spread jam on a piece of toast.

"Can’t believe you guys are at this lame party," she said. Peter frowned in confusion.

"But you’re here too," Ned said, confused hesitation taking up his voice.

"Am I?" And then she stalked away. Peter and Ned glanced at each other in confusion.

Ned recovered first, tapping his backpack. "Okay, anyway, we’re gonna have Spider-Man swing in, say you guys are tight, and then I get a fist bump or one of those half bro-hugs and--"

"Oh, my gosh!"

Ned was cut off as Peter turned away from him to look at Liz. Redness flushed onto his cheeks as she approached them with a wide smile and a red cup in her hand.

"Hey, guys. Cool hat, Ned."

"Hi, Liz," Ned said with a wave.

"Hi, Liz," he said, cursing himself as his voice broke immediately.

"I’m so happy you guys came. There’s pizza and drinks. Help yourself."

Peter's stomach rumbled at the thought, but he forced it down with a smile and a warbled, "What a great party."

"Thanks," Liz smiled. There was the shattering of glass, making her turn sheepishly. "Oh, I... My parents will kill me if anything’s broken. I gotta--"

"Yeah."

"Have fun," she said, hurrying away. Ned turned to him furiously, gesturing to where the senior had left.

"Dude, what are you doing? She’s here. Spider it up."

Like a flip had been switched, Peter remembered that Iron Man was probably looking for him. No way he could get away with showing himself at a high school party. This would be all over social media in barely an hour. "No, no, no. I can’t... I cannot do this. Spider-Man is not a party trick, okay? Look, I’m just gonna...be myself."

"Peter, no one wants that."

"Dude," Peter snapped, but even as he walked away, he knew it was true. He thought of the image of Mr. Stark's face when he'd realized they were soulmates.

Now more than a little out of it, the teenager finally made his way through the house, searching desperately for wherever the pizza was. He didn't make it very far down the hall when there was the screech of his name over a microphone.

"Penis Parker, what’s up?!" Flash yelled over the microphone. People turned to stare at Peter and Ned, sneers or sympathetic smiles decorating their faces. Peter tensed, glancing over to Ned. "Thought you were stuck at the group home! And didn't you know you were supposed to dress nicely for a party?"

Ned gave Peter a look, and that was how the superpowered teen ended up on the roof in his shitty superhero costume with his mask in hand as he chewed his lip in jittered fear.

"Hey, what’s up?" he said in a deepened voice, grabbing his mask from the bag and straightening it out. "I’m Spider-Man. Just thought I’d swing by and say hello to my buddy Peter. Oh, what’s up, Ned? Hey, where’s Peter, anyways? He must be around..." Peter sighed, dropping his hands and digging his fingers into the mask as his brows furrowed. "God, this is stupid. What am I doing?"

Peter stared from the roof down at where Ned was waiting, looking around anxiously, his friend's shadow bright underneath the lights. He glanced out of the corner of his eye down at where his own was scrunched beside him, wondering what Mr. Stark was doing right now. Maybe he was doing cool Iron Man stuff in the lab he'd had a flash of. Maybe...maybe he was wondering what Peter was doing too.

Just as he was about to sigh about how unlikely that was, there was the sound of a distant crash and a plume of bright blue. He began to push himself up, leaning forward to try and get a better look at the thing as his senses rang.

"What the hell?"

Peter stuffed on his mask and swung away, making his way through the neighborhood. After running across an embarrassingly long golf course, the sprinklers biting against his skin with the freezing water, he finally arrived at where he'd seen the blue smoke. Spider-Man dipped himself low, clinging to a small bridge and popping his head around the corner.

There were three men, a broken down old car, and a classic kidnapper white van. Peter watched as one guy whooped at the explosion that burst out from the weapon in his hand against the car. The two other men cringed back as he flinched at the bright light. The man returned to the van, putting the gun down and grabbing another one. It looked extremely similar to the one that had been used against Mr. Stark last night.

"Now, this is crafted from a reclaimed sub-Ultron arm straight from Sokovia. Here. You try."

The guy passed the weird arm-gun to the man with curly hair, who examined it in confused disdain. "Man, I wanted something low-key. Why are you trying to upsell me, man?"

"Okay, okay, okay. I got what you need, all right?" the guy placated, moving back to look through the van. "I got tons of great stuff here. One sec. Okay, I got, uh, black hole grenades, Chitauri railguns..."

"You letting off shots in public now? Hurry up," the tallest one warned. He stepped up to the curly haired guy. The buyer, Peter guessed. "Look, times are changing. We’re the only ones selling these high tech weapons."

"Oh, so this is where bad guys are getting their stuff," Peter whispered to his shadow out of habit. He shook his head, glaring forward and away from where Mr. Stark's silhouette extended.

"I need something to stick up somebody. I’m not trying to shoot them back in time," the buyer complained.

"I got anti-grav climbers," the guy at the van suggested. That seemed to finally get the third man's attention.

"Yo, climbers?"

And then, of course, Peter's phone rang. Immediately guns were drawn, clicking towards the buyer as Peter tore his phone out of his pocket, almost swearing as he caught sight of Ned's caller ID and shutting it off.

"Okay, what the hell was that?"

"Did you set us up?"

"Hey, hey, man."

His senses ringing, Peter dropped from the bridge, catching the men's attention. "Hey! Hey, come on. You gonna shoot at somebody, shoot at me."

"All right."

The gun clicked towards him. Peter shot a web, tearing the gun away, and then ran forward. His senses spiked and then pain jolted through Peter as something bright smashed against his face. It launched the teenager straight into the leg of the bridge, the concrete crumpling under his force. He groaned in pain, forcing himself onto his elbows.

"What the hell?" he muttered. The revving of an engine tore his head to where the van was beginning to drive off. He shot a web to the back of the van, attempting to stick to the ground but only succeeding in being dragged away and onto the harsh road, eliciting a surprised yelp from the high schooler.

Spider-Man shot another web in an attempt to right his balance, gritting his teeth as the road tore at his skin. The van dragged him around, swerving intentionally and smacking Peter through at least five trash cans before finally losing him into a pillar of solid brick. He groaned in pain even as he pushed himself to his feet and shot another web. It attached to the door, ripping it to the ground with a metal screech. Peter threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Great! Guess I'm gonna have to take a shortcut."

Peter leaped over a car into a yard and then a few more yards. At least there was a cute dog, but he wished he'd had more time to play with it.

The superhero stumbled along after scaring a couple of girls--his bad, but they'd get over it eventually. Hopefully--diving over a fence and skimming over a pool in a crowd of people that stared at him in gawked surprise. He called, "Great movie!" before swinging up with a tree and landing just a little too hard on a nearby roof. He panted heavily even as he kept going. He caught sight of the white van.

"Almost got you," he said to himself. "Thought you got away from me, didn’t you? I got you right where I want you. Surprise!"

Finally close enough, Peter leaped from the roof. His spine shivered, his hairs raised, and his heart leaped in fear as metal claws clamped down around him. Peter screamed hoarsely, twisting in midair as he was propelled away from the ground at a frightening speed. "AgH! What the hell!!??"

Peter barely took in the large wings, instead focusing on digging his hands around the metal claws clenched around his ankle. Whoever the bird guy was, he certainly didn't appreciate it. Haunting green eyes met Peter's wide white. His heart beat rapidly. How high up was he? The ground below looked so tiny. At least there was water under him.

And then he wasn't so thankful as the metal digging into his feet released all of the sudden. Peter screamed as he fell, twisting in midair as he searched desperately for an escape. The water underneath him grew closer and closer and there was nothing for Peter to grab onto. Nothing to web. Oh no, oh no, oh no oh no oh no--

Peter slapped against the surface. All the air was forced from his lungs as he was carried under by the lapping waves.

---

"Sir--" Friday started. Tony didn't look up from where he was writing out code that he'd been pouring over for hours, going through every idea and web combination imaginable.

"Please don't turn down my music, honey," Tony said, swiveling in his rolly chair and wheeling over to the table where the webs he was in the process of replicating were beginning to formulate. He was on his fourth attempt now, and he was getting close. "I'm working."

"I am operating under the Itsy Bitsy Spider protocol."

Tony readjusted his glasses, turning away from where he was stirring the sticky formula to glance at the hologram of the suit. He'd been wondering when the kid would show up again. He hadn't been out all afternoon. "Yeah? What's up?"

In response, Friday popped up a video. It was clearly shot through a phone, shakily recording the kid skimming off of a pool before launching himself in the air. It dragged an amused smile from Tony, but it dropped as the next video played.

This one was clearly a security camera from the suburbs. The video was only a couple seconds long as a shuddering white van sped past the house, smoke flying from behind it. There was a bright purple shot and then Tony finally managed to catch sight of the bright red and blue suit being dragged along. Tony turned to his shadow, staring at where the hood was pulled up.

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into now, kid?" he asked it. "How old is this video?"

"Barely a minute."

Tony glanced at the unfinished suit and then back at the video playing on a loop. He guessed the suit would have to wait.

"Get me Mark Forty-Eight and take me to where this video was taken. Quickly, dear."

The suit activated across the room, stepping out of its case and allowing for Tony to be covered by it. The screen lit up immediately, his path highlighted to where the nearest window had opened. Tony shot out into the New York night, his heart beating rapidly. The kid had to be okay, right? He probably dealt with weird shit all the time.

The thought didn't stop the mechanic from being nervous. The kid was fifteen after all. He wasn't exactly equipped for this kind of thing.

It took barely a couple of minutes for Tony to arrive at the street where the video had been taken. There was a burn mark on the road, but no Spidey, and no sign of that van. He hovered, scanning for where the kid could be.

"Heat signatures, Fri. Give me something to work with."

His screen lit up, orange and red figures milling about in houses. There were a few people walking streets over, a car roving by slowly, a clash of body heat that made him think of a party, and a red dot hurtling out of the air ever closer to the river. Wait--

Tony fixated on where the red dot was slowly approaching the water, his heart pounding. "What is that? Friday, zoom in."

The video clipped towards the red dot, and Tony gasped as he recognized a body twisting through the air. And not just any body.

Spidey.

His thrusters whined before forcing the suit forward towards the dot that had disappeared from view. He turned in air, hovering over the body of water, before glancing down with a fearful swallow. A heat signature was illuminated.

"Kid," he gasped.

Tony dove down immediately and broke through the water's surface. It was dark underneath, but he could make out where the kid was. He wrapped his metal arms under the kid's armpits before shooting back into the blissfully cold air.

"I've got you, kid. I've got you."

Spidey didn't respond.

Ch 1 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #tony stark #peter parker #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #irondad and spiderson #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker

36 notes · View notes

mintseesaw · 4 years ago

Text

harana | jjk

translation: n. the act of wooing/courting someone by serenading him/her

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, f2l au, drabble

word count: 3.5k

warning: none // rating: pg-13

requested by bebe athena @rookiegukie. Im sorry it took a while, but i hope you like it hun! You may still submit your requests for the drabble game Paraluman Playlist until the end of August. ✨

note: this didnt turn out as initially planned changing after jk released his latest cover so i highly rec u to listen to 10,000 hours by jjk (cover) while reading it hjfjgdjdkgm also it’s a first for me to delve into f2l trope ljggdhd yall forgive me if it’s too cliche bwahaha

“Hyung! ______-noona is here!” A kid who opened the door for you announced your arrival rather loudly, recognizing him as one of Jungkook’s cousins. You pushed through inside the nostalgic interior of the Jeon’s household. Nothing much has changed in the past two years.

Soon after, Jungkook appeared from the doorway you remember as the door leading to the kitchen. He’s decently dressed and when you say decent, you meant he’s not in his usual attire of anything black and over-sized. Nonetheless, he’s handsome as ever. You’re not gonna deny the fact.

“Hey!” He greets, face lighting up at the sight of you, biting back a smirk as he skims the length of you adorning a cute, yellow dress. He glances down at your hand holding a gift-wrapped present for his mom before draping an arm over your shoulders.

He feigns a frown, “You shouldn’t have bothered. Mom will appreciate you making it on her birthday.”

“Well, unlike someone I know, I’m thoughtful enough to prepare something for Auntie.” You tease, knowing he possibly bought nothing for his mom.

He scoffs, only proving your assumption right. “Yah! Don’t sound too enthusiastic, I’m the son here.”

“So what? I’m your mom’s favorite!” You retorted back.

“No you aren’t!” He snapped, while his mouth unconsciously juts forward in defeat.

Your eyebrow arches. “Is that a challenge I hear?”

Jungkook nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. “Forget the competition. We’re here to make my mom happy.” He quickly dismisses, distracting you as he leads you straight to the garden area which you could already see where the guests are gathered through the glass doors.

As expected, the said small party looks simply classic with a touch of Mrs. Jeon’s sophisticated taste. Average-sized square wooden tables are neatly scattered in the expanse of the garden with uniform vintage table setting that coordinates well with the floral decorations in the vicinity. In front, a makeshift platform was made behind a decorated linen with pinned letters “Happy Birthday Mom!” Behind all the tables is where the buffet table was placed.

You’re actually relieved that your simple puff sleeve dress matches with the theme of the party, forgetting the guilt of having to wear the dress without borrowing it from your sister.

Mrs. Jeon was happily chatting with her guests but when the sliding door breaks open revealing you tucked under Jungkook’s arm, the present smile on her face stretches wide and immediately shuffled towards you and Jungkook’s way.

Mrs. Jeon audibly gushes just as you handed your gift and welcomed you with a warm, tight hug. “Thank you, dear.”

Jungkook took it as his cue to leave you two for a second.

When she draws back, she appreciatively give you a once over. “Oh, you look so lovely on your dress!” Mrs. Jeon clapped her hands. You smiled shyly in return.

“Thank you for coming, dear. It’s been ages since the last time I’ve seen you. Come here and get some food.” She says.

It’s true. After you’ve been in college two years ago, you’ve hardly stayed in your hometown for more than two weeks, hence, you couldn’t squeeze your time here to pay the Jeons a visit. Mrs. Jeon became your guardian whenever your parents were in business trips back in the days, and during the times of your stay at their house, you’ve grown much closer to her just like your second mom.

By the time you reach the buffet table, Mrs. Jeon caught Jungkook in the act of getting a piece of sushi straight from the chafing dish, and his poor soon right away earned a whack on his arm from his mom.

“Use the tongs!” She reproaches which made him flinches dramatically.

Such a baby.

You bit back a chuckle as Mrs. Jeon went on with “Go to the kitchen and refill the dispenser!” Jungkook pouts but obeys his mom without complaining. However, he made sure to shoot a fake glare at you before he disappears from the doorway.

Mrs. Jeon then handed you an empty plate. “Here, ______. I know you like pasta.”

Your eyes widened a little. Perhaps, you have not recovered from the surprise painted on your expression, hearing it come from her that she caught a glimpse of your slight shock state. Why should you be surprised when Jungkook knows it as well? He might have told her or something.

“Oh don’t be surprised, dear. My boy always asks me to cook pasta whenever you come around.”

Isn’t it his favorite food? “It’s… his favorite... right?” You began but ended up questioning the validity of your knowledge.

She laughs, “You know he could eat anything edible but cannot live without his portion of meat every day.”

“Oh.” It was only that moment it registered to you. His mom is right. He’d always make it a point to consume all your stocks of meat whenever he shows up in your dorm in the most unexpected days. His university is not too far away from yours. Yet, this guy thinks it’s worth the two-hour drive just to get to your dorm and pester the shit out of you.

“I’m so happy you’re able to make it on my birthday. Will you stay in town for the rest of your break?”

“Uhh… I was supposed to focus on saving up through my part time jobs this summer but my mom threatened to disown me if I don’t stay here during summer break.”

“Oh she’s being reasonable, honey. Believe me, I’d do the same thing if Jungkook refuses to go home at least once a month, unless of course, if he runs off with you.” She remarks in a teasing manner, earning a profuse blush to appear on your cheeks so abruptly.

Since you left home for uni, you actually believe Mrs. Jeon had forgotten about your shared interactions back then. Yet, here she is, still having faith that his son has actual feelings for you. She told you many times that she’d want a daughter like you or, at least, be her in-law. She always regarded it in a playful tone so you used to get mixed signals whether she was really serious or not. But then, you’d say the overused line: “we’re only friends”. She would then give you a knowing look and insisted that she knows her son well. Fortunately for you, she made it a point to only tease you whenever Jungkook was out of earshot.

By the time Jungkook came back a few moments later, you’re already seated in a vacant table at the farthest back. Jungkook occupied the seat next to yours, taking notice of the half-finished food on your plate.

“What time are you leaving?” He asks the moment he plopped down the chair. Your head cocked to the side to meet his gaze.

“Are you trying to make me leave early?” You prompted suspiciously.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna drive you home, idiot.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I can… walk.”

“It’s not like I have a choice.” He mutters under his breath.

Your eyebrows quirked but you spoke no more. He lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. Did he mean his mom will force him to drop you off at your house just like the old times?

As the night progresses, the small celebration has pumped up with lively cheers from their relatives, incited by the impromptu program prepared by Jungkook’s cousins which was mostly filled with fun games. At some point of the said program, a small commotion on the side of the makeshift platform started to build up. The next thing you know, his cousin, the mastermind behind the entertainment portion of the party, caught yours and Jungkook’s attention when she announced his sudden participation in the program through a performance.

“Our boy Kookie here recently recorded a cover and he’s here to perform the live version and showcase his talent to our dear guests. Everyone, let’s welcome our very own Jeon Jungkook onto the stage!” His cousin enthusiastically says through the microphone. On cue, everyone in the garden, particularly his cousins, roared in earsplitting screams of cheer.

He blinks, completely perplexed. He was not given a heads up prior, much less told that he would perform a song in front of an audience. Hesitant due to his nerves, he backed away subtly just as he reaches the side of the supposed stage. However, his cousin caught up with his attempt and pushed him not too gently toward the platform, and even placed the microphone stand in front of him, giving him no room to say no. The expectant look of his relatives left him no choice but to just— his eyes suddenly caught your figure at the back when you stood up and went to the buffet table.

His heart thuds so hard against his rib cage that he’s afraid everyone can hear it through the mic, including you. He’s sure he’s as white as a paper by now more so that his nerves are getting the worst of him.

That song is not just any song he simply did a cover of. It was the song he meant to sing for you when the right time has come, when he’s ready to pour his heart out to you.

He sucked a deep breath once more, and slowly breathed out once more. Instinctively, his eyes fluttered closed when he heard the music began playing.

Ready or not, it’s now or never.

Do you love the rain? Does it make you dance

When you're drunk with your friends at a party?

At the sound of his voice filling the air of the summer night, you spun back around to face him. That’s how he missed the look on your face just as how you missed the chaotic cheering of his cousins as they piled up to the side of the platform.

What's your favorite song? Does it make you smile?

Do you think of me?

Hearing the beautiful lyrics wholeheartedly sang by Jungkook, the same one who stole your heart a long time ago, you couldn’t control your heart as it started racing so wildly, tiny specs of heat slowly spreading in your chest. Thoughts began to swirl in your mind – giving you the anticipation. The possibility. The potential love affair. That the friendship would develop into something more.

Before the next verse comes, Jungkook peeled his eyes open, however, he didn’t expect to see you awestruck there across his line of vision from the back, and meeting your expressive eyes. If he didn’t know better, he would have mistaken the glint in your eyes for something else.

Maybe just… maybe you like him too.

When you close your eyes

Tell me what are you dreaming?

Everything, I wanna know it all

You look so beautiful. That the thought of you alone could easily make his heartstrings twist so cruelly in his chest. Oh how he wishes you’d let him spoil you the way he’s been dying to. He’d be the luckiest man to ever live to have you as his girlfriend.

Jungkook didn’t know how he managed to put up the courage to return your gaze, never have you looked at him the way your pretty eyes are staring back at him now with the genuine fondness in them. Somehow, as he gets lost to his emotions, he suddenly couldn’t find the strength in him to take his eyes off of you.

I'd spend 10,000 hours and 10,000 more

Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours

Butterflies erupt crazily in your stomach, goosebumps start to appear on your skin and your cheeks heat up as he held you captive under his wistful stare. The longingness and the passion they hold, the twinkle of his orbs as his doe-like eyes are digging straight to your soul, what it is all for?

And I might never get there but I'm gonna try

If it's 10,000 hours or the rest of my life

I'm gonna love you

He’s always been a constant figure in your life since the moment you two became friends. He didn’t miss any important celebrations that involves you since then. And even though Jungkook has been vocal about being overprotective of you dating guys he didn’t know, none of you ever tried to address anything remotely related to romantic love. It gave you the temporary relief, because you’ve been pushing your feelings back in the depths of your heart since the moment you realized you’ve fallen in love with him.

You never had the guts to test the theory, but leaving wondering what if… When have you visited the thought, again? You have long disregarded the possibility because you believed he loves you like his sister. Nevertheless, you’re lucky to have met him and be the only constant in your life.

Do you miss the road that you grew up on?

Did you get your middle name from your grandma?

When you think about your forever now

Do you think of me?

Jungkook’s face stretches in a subtle smile, forgetting about his nerves, his sweaty palms and the guests who kept looking back and forth between him and you in curiosity while he seems magnetized at his view. You.

When you close your eyes

Tell me what are you dreaming?

Everything, I wanna know it all

You smiled, recalling the times you two were inseparable. The times he let you cry on his shoulder, when he used to help you sneak out in the middle of the night, be your chaperone, witnessed you getting drunk for the first time in your life and even that one time a senior stole your first kiss. It was the first time you saw Jungkook that angry, beating the shit out of a poor guy two years ahead of us over a single peck. Your memories with him didnt end in high school for he didn’t stop making efforts to see you, regularly visiting you frequent enough that he’d made himself home at your place.

Ooh, want the good and the bad

Everything in between

Ooh, gotta cure my curiosity

In the midst of serenading you, he recollects the memories he shared with you. The day you two were introduced to each other was still as good as new in his memory bank, or the times that you encouraged him to push through to audition to his dream role that you even learned to play his audition piece just so he could practice with you every day after school. His basketball games with you as his personal cheerleader, the times that he couldn’t hide his jealousy when you dated someone else, the immature fights that always led him to drink his heart out as if you two had broken up, and you nursing him back to sobriety. When you two were separated in college, he’d always make a way to bother you whenever he’s drunk and you’d end up going to his place and ceaselessly irk him while he rotted from hangover.

His angelic voice singing the rest of the song lulls you further into your thoughts, gathering each memory like a missing piece in the puzzle. Why didn’t you see all the signs back then? Were you blinded by your then-infatuation over him that you failed to hint his own feelings? He never gave you a reason to make you think he likes you more than a friend nor tried to hide anything from you, right?

Shortly afterwards, you were pulled back into the reality when you hear the cheers of the guests, signaling the end of Jungkook’s performance. Your eyes silently follow him as he sheepishly walk out of the platform, going onto the same path he took before.

Jungkook didn’t meet your gaze as he strutted toward the ice cooler on the side of the buffet table to get a bottle of alcohol which is just a few steps away from you. Twisting open its cap with such urgency, he took a long swig from the bottle to calm his traitor nerves, then pretends to busy himself on the variety of food laid on the table while feeling the weight of your stare on his back. Nervous that you understood the purpose behind his impromptu performance and that your silence was your hint of your rejection to his feelings, he didn’t try to talk it out to you the entire night. Yet, he feigned indifference when he sat on the same chair in the table next to you.

As the rest of the night rolls, the tension undeniably grows in between you two. Yet bearable enough to have you two stay glued on your seats despite the countless times you caught him staring at you, or you at him all throughout the night.

None of you dared break the silence and somehow, along the way, the tension has particularly become unbearable inside the car while he drove you home. Your house was just two blocks away and you bet it would take him faster to get there should he not intentionally slow down his driving with only a hand on a steering wheel while the other rested on the open window of his door as his fingers anxiously pinch his lips.

You chose to break the tension, feeling the need to speak up before your heart bursts out of your chest. And the moment you did, Jungkook coincidentally started to talk too.

“So…”

“About that…”

You met his eyes when your head jerked to the side to peer at him.

“What?” You immediately ask, curious to know what he would want to say after that, his heartfelt singing.

“Uh—“ He drawls, suddenly losing the words he was supposed to utter the second he made an eye contact with you. He shifts his eyes back to the road, feeling himself cower under the weight of your stare.

He clears his throat, putting up a pretense of a courage. “What do you think of... my performance?”

There was a moment of dead air inside before you manage to form an answer. “It was beautiful… I like it. You know I’m in love with y-you– I mean your voice. I love your voice.” You laugh awkwardly, while you’re incoherently screaming in your head at your almost slipped up.

Jungkook’s face flushes and he could already visualize the sudden boost of serotonin in his system hearing the validation he needs the most, the one coming from you. “Thank you.” He mumbles shyly.

It was that moment when the car arrives in front of your house. You shoot him a look, said your thanks and bid him goodbye before you climbed out of the car. You couldn’t deny the disappointment that was rushing so abruptly into you while you pad the distance across the gate of the house. For the nth time, you have hoped for something that was not even real to begin with.

However, your heart jumped out of almost joy when you heard Jungkook’s voice call your name out just as you’re about to close the fence gate.

“What’s up?”

“Okay before I tell you something, do you promise to remain best friends with me if… if you don’t… if somehow… oh god whatever— just promise me!” He panics, making you frown in return.

“I-I promise?” You say in an uncertain tone.

Jungkook held his pinky out.

“Pinky swear?” He prompts. You raise an eyebrow but let him hook your pinky finger with his to seal the promise of a lifetime friendship.

“What is it?” You say in the most gentle way possible. If this is the moment you’ve been dreaming to happen since you were in high school, you have to encourage him to talk before you could stop yourself from advancing to his personal space just to kiss him without any further ado.

“_____I-I tried my best not to… n-not to see you in a different way. But god you’re always making it difficult for me to forget about it when you keep giving me reasons to want things I shouldn’t have–”

“Jungkook–”

“Please, let me finish before my legs give out.”

You chuckle all the while your vision blurs from the moisture in your eyes. The anxiety on his face gradually dissolves into relief when he saw the smile creeping into your face.

“I can’t keep dating anyone and pretending they’re better than you. I’m an idiot, I know. But it’s always been you, ______. It’s you that I want and I can’t possibly live this life without you–“ You didn’t let him finish when he finally said the words you have longed to hear for years. You lean in to touch his soft, inviting lips with your own.

Jungkook staggered back at the suddenness of your move. Once he had recovered from shock, he cupped your jaw to deepen the kiss. He sighed against your supple lips. And for the first time since he has nurtured his feelings for you, the weight in his chest has been lifted off, replacing it with warmth and relief that only you could bring in his longing heart.

*unedited

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bayanihanboost #paralumanplaylist #btsguild #goldenclosetnet #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #cypherwritersnet #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #friends to lovers trope

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years ago

Text

Protection Chapter 6

Summary: Mia and August are in the safehouse, but Mia has a plan, since she really doesn’t want to be here.

August Walker x Mia Makaruku (ofc)

Wordcount: 5.4k

Warnings: Mentions of stabbing and guns.

Masterlist // Protection Masterlist // Previous Chapter

1 hour at the safe house

After the three hour drive, August and I arrive at this safe house. It’s the middle of the night and normally I’m in a deep and nice sleep, spooning Bobo and dreaming about some sort of male celebrity to ease my mind. That is not the case now, despite my brain being dog tired, but it’s also running over time.

The safe house is like every ordinary house, but maybe that is exactly what we need. We need to fit in with the rest of the world, not sticking out like sore thumbs.

Bobo is already acclimated to the place, curling himself up on the sofa, purring loudly as he is about to drift off to sleep.

Me on the other hand, can’t relax for shit. I’m pacing (no, not pacing, limping) through the living room, desperately hoping to remember something. It doesn’t matter what. Maybe something about my family, something that is a dead give away I’m not part of this weird family who had access to the safe. Maybe something about what happened between the crash and me sitting on the curb, holding my arm as I was waiting for help.

Or something that would get me out of this place.

August was my safe haven for the drive here, but I don’t know what to think of him. Do I believe him when he says he’ll protect me? Yes, especially what happened to me on the parking lot.

Do I trust him?

I have no idea…

Is he soft and kind to me?

Yes.

And is that everything I need for now?

I hate to admit it, but yes…

I let out a deep sigh. While I keep on wishing I need to be with someone who I feel safe with, it’s brutally obvious that… August is the only one who can both protect me and make me feel safe. I think about his strong arms wrapped around my body, my forehead resting against his chest and him allowing me to hold his hand. I know that’s not what he wants, or at least, what he would initiate, but he lets me. He lets me hold him, lean on him and cry on him.

And that sure means something right? He understands and gives in to my needs.

I turn on my foot, but since my brain is nearly frying itself, I forget this one hurts. I wince and sit on the floor, holding my ankle tightly. Tears trickle down my cheeks, without me actually crying.

I just want to go home, to my own psychical therapist who could help me out. I need normalcy back in my life.

‘What are you doing?’

My head jerks up, to discover August standing near the kitchen, leaning against the wall. The softness I felt during the way here, it disappeared. Maybe because I wasn’t responding well to it, or because I was responding to it a bit too much. I have been a snotty and hopeless mess since early Monday morning, when I found out about the file.

‘I was pacing.’

He walks into the living room and stops in front of me. ‘You need to be careful.’

‘Well spotted. I can see the CIA training taught you well.’

August sighs. ‘I think you need a new gauge on it.’ He holds out his hand and with a groan I take it. He pulls me up, but when I’m standing, his arm glides underneath my knees and back, carrying me to the kitchen. He does it so effortlessly and without a thought. Maybe that softness is still there. Maybe he does care. He places me on the counter and takes off my shoe.

‘That hurts,’ I hisses.

‘I know,’ he says. He opens a few cabinets, but doesn’t see what he was looking for. ‘Wait here.’

He wanders out of the kitchen and comes back with my mug. The one with the flowers. The one I left at his place. He fills it with water and holds it in front of me, together with a strip of painkillers. ‘Did you bring this with you?’ I ask him, as I wrap my fingers around the mug.

He nods.

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s home and I figured you could need it.’ He ushers me to take the painkiller and I do what he asks me to do. I lean back, with my head against the cabinet doors. He grabs a dusty barstool and places my foot on his lap.

‘August,’ I whisper.

‘Yes?’

‘I don’t hate you.’

He looks up. ‘I know.’

‘I’m just scared.’

‘I know that too.’ He takes off my sock and bandage and checks my ankle, that is swelling and turning red. ‘I think I need to provide you with a brace. Or do you have one with you?’

I shake my head. ‘I left it at home, I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologize,’ he snaps and I tense up. Just because he isn’t apologizing, he all of the sudden has this personal vendetta against me doing it. ‘I’ll try and arrange something. For now a new bandage will do.’

While he prepares the new bandages, I carefully place my hand on his cheek as I lean forward. He lets it happen and maybe I’m totally hallucinating, but I think he is leaning against my hand. ‘You sure you’ll protect me?’

‘I will,’ he answers in a dead serious tone.

‘Even Bobo?’

August looks up and bites back a smile. ‘Especially Bobo.’

5 hours at the safe house

I’m back at the crime scene, but this time I’m not a young girl anymore. I’m the me of today. I walk around the car wreck, spotting the limb bodies of other me’s family. I notice a young girl sitting on the curb. Me on the curb. Clutching my arm and simply staring at the wreck, as someone without a recognizable face drags away the body of a teenage boy, while another man drags away the body of a man.

They look deceased, but as of right now, they could be unconscious.

A woman, who is just as unidentifiable as the other men, crouches down in front of me. ‘Vanaf nu, is jouw naam Mia,’ she tells me. From now on, your name is Mia.

The young girl—me—shakes her head. ‘Nee, dat ben ik niet.’ No, I’m not.

‘Jawel, luister goed. Als iemand er naar vraag, jij heet Mia. Mia Makaruku. M-A-K-A-R-U-K-U.’ Yes, listen carefully. If someone asks, you’re Mia. Mia Makaruku. M-A-K-A-R-U-K-U.’

With a jolt I’m wide awake. I look around me, expecting to find Bobo for some emotional support, but he is not here. I could use a hug, to be honest and Bobo is the one that I wished was right here to hug me. I slip on some warm socks and get out of my bed. No, the bed in the safe house. It’s not mine. It smells musty. My bed always smells like lavender.

‘Bobo,’ I whisper shout, ‘where are you?’

I see August’s door is opened ajar and I peek inside, only to see Bobo curled up on the windowsill, while August isn’t asleep. He looks up and flicks on his light. ‘What’s wrong?’

I want to make a stupid remark about Bobo sleeping here and how they are becoming close buddies and how it should make me jealous, but it can’t seem to leave my lips. I simply lean against the doorframe and fumble with my shirt.

‘Mia, what’s up?’

‘I had a memory,’ I whisper, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. I close the door and I walk over to his bed. I sit on the edge, staring at Bobo, who is still asleep and doesn’t really care I walked in. Looks like I’m traded in for. Nice to know that my lovely cat will trade me for someone with testosterone. ‘My name is not Mia Makaruku.’ I tell him what the memory is about. I don’t feel tears coming up, but to be fair, I have cried for hours on end.

August sits up straight next to be on the edge. ‘You know what your real name is?’

I shake my head. ‘That was all I wanted to tell you.’ I want to stand up again, but August grabs my wrist and forces me on his bed again. ‘What?’

‘I know it’s hard.’

‘How?’ I ask him. ‘Because this all happened to you when you were younger? Did you have a promising career, that was put on hold because someone swooped into your life and all of the sudden you realize you are not who you think you are?’

He doesn’t say anything, but I simply pull my wrist out of his grasp, grab Bobo and march back into my room.

1 day at the safe house

I came to the conclusion that in no way, I can stay here in this safe house.

August is keeping a close eye on me and I have to tell him what I’m going to do every single time I leave the room. Even when I just need to pee! This whole situation is suffocating me. I wished he would just be a bit more relaxed, less controlling and just back the fuck off.

Ever since I had my first memory, I have been thinking about it, nearly giving myself a painful headache. But I don’t remember anything.

When I was wandering through the house, I confiscated a letter opener, to use it as some sort of weapon. Who knows if I might need it one day. And that one day might come sooner than I think.

I’m sitting in the living room, as the blinds are closed, leaving us with the lights on, in the middle of the day. I can barely sit anymore, so I walk towards a wall and do a handstand against it. I hear some bones in my shoulders crack.

For a top athlete, going from intense training to nothing, it’s unhealthy. I read about those people who get heart attacks after they retire and get a heart attack within the first week of doing nothing, after a very intensive job for forty years.

While I’m not suspecting a heart attack anytime soon and I shouldn’t compare this situation to retirement, I’m keeping it in mind.

Is it your left arm that starts to hurt when you have a nearing heart attack?

‘What are you doing?’

I roll my eyes, but he doesn’t see that. ‘I would swear you’re blind,’ I say, as I get back on my feet. ‘I was bowling, you happy now?’

August doesn’t say anything. He simply walks over to the couch and sits on my spot. Man spreading is tame in comparison with what he is doing. I think it’s a good thing this man wears pants, because I could’ve looked right up his ass and do an internal examination, without trying.

That’s quite the picture, Mia… What are you doing to yourself?

I turn around and let out a gasp when the doorbell rings three times very short. August stands up and ushers me to come over. I don’t understand why, but he looks pissed and I better listen to him. I limp towards him and he pushes me behind him. When he opens the door, he simply takes the package after signing for it and closes the door. ‘What was that about?’

‘Better be safe than sorry.’ He opens the package without using scissors (which is weird, because I would’ve needed a scissor or a knife to open it, but to each their own) and hands me my new ankle brace.

‘Oh,’ I say, when I see he actually arranged a real good one. Maybe he cares in his weird way… ‘Thanks.’

He doesn’t say anything about it. ‘I’ll start lunch.’

3 days at the safe house

It has been two days since I found the letter opener and I don’t think he suspects a thing. The hours pass by without a mishap. I let him check my ankle twice a day, I try to get him to like Bobo (no success so far and that’s all on August) and we watch the stars every night, since that’s the only time he lets me out of the house.

Pretending I made peace with the situation, gave me enough opportunities to plan my escape. Even when he made me a hot water bottle the other night because I was shivering, even when he suggested to cut the onions, so I wouldn’t get teary eyed and that time when he carried me to bed.

Even when he makes me feel like no one else made me before, I cannot stay here. I have read the files, I have seen where he hides our passports, I know where he hides his guns. I can escape.

Especially now, since I don’t want him near me anymore.

The only way I can actually lock him up, is by luring him into the basement and that sounds painfully scary, I admit, but I have to try. I’d rather die trying, than give up and sit here like I’ve given up on life.

I have to leave him.

Everything is all set and done in my bedroom, ready for me to leave. If I can’t hide it in my room (the car keys, the file or the passports and of course his guns) I know exactly where to find it.

I’m standing in some tight black leggings and a cropped sweater in the basement, trying to find something on the top shelve I could desperately need and I can’t reach. Pasta sauce? That seems like something I could use.

I have made some food in these past couple of days and I have yet to make some pasta. It sounds like me to try something new.

Normally I wouldn’t wear something that accentuates my ass this much, but I have to distract him some way, so maybe this’ll do. I don’t know, I have never done this before. Sure, I’ve kissed, but never anything further than that. Being a professional athlete, you barely have time to date.

Or that’s just me, I don’t know. Other girls seemed to find time to date…

My heart is pounding painfully fast in my chest. You can say about August Walker whatever you want, but that man looks terrifyingly experienced. He seems like the type of man who can rip you apart and you’d beg him to do so again.

It’s now or never, Mia.

‘August!’ I yell.

It takes a second before he answers. ‘Yes?’

‘Can you help me out?’

Asking him for something, is the way to his heart.

I hear his descending footsteps and I turn around, to see him approaching me. ‘Can you reach the pasta sauce for me?’ I ask. ‘I wanted to make pasta tonight.’

August simply nods and stretches himself to grab the package from the top shelf. ‘Anything else?’

I bite my lip, before shaking my head.

‘There is something on your mind,’ he says. ‘What is it?’

This man reads me like a book. I hate it. ‘Nothing, it’s silly, really.’ That and I might chicken out right now. Maybe this isn’t such a fantastic well thought out plan, though I thought about it non stop for the past forty eight hours.

But, am I seeing this correctly? Is he smiling? ‘Tell me this then: why are you wearing this?’

Oh shit, he is too good. Fuck, I just blew my cover, simply because it’s too much. ‘What?’

August places his large hand in the dip of my waist, his fingers touching my bare skin. ‘You never wear this.’

I clear my throat. Now is not a good time for that heart attack you were thinking about a two days ago, I tell myself. ‘Oh, I…’

‘Come on,’ he whispers, ‘you can tell me.’

I swallow hard, all of the sudden not so sure about this anymore. I shouldn’t let him intimidate me, but it sure does. It might have to do with this authoritarian lining I hear in his deep voice.

‘Tell me,’ he says, ‘did you plan this?’

I finally find my voice again, yet it’s not a very secure one. ‘Maybe,’ I whisper shakily.

‘Why?’

‘It’s you, really,’ I say and that is not a total lie. I mean, I have seen him pretty up close these passed few days. And since I’m a functioning human being with a heart beat and certain—slightly nasty—dreams about him… It seems reasonable to be planning this, right?

August nods, before lifting me on the empty table I wished in my initial plan he would place me. ‘If I start, Mia, I don’t think I can stop.’

‘I don’t want you to stop,’ I whimper, already completely at his mercy.

I curse myself.

He chuckles and bites his bottom lip, his eyes turning a few shades darker. He takes off his shirt, revealing his strong and broad chest, covered with chest hair that I only saw glimpses of.

Am I sure I can do this? Am I sure I can do what I plan to do?

‘What?’ I ask him.

‘You look like a deer caught in the headlights, Mia.’

‘Oh,’ I gasp, which is a dead giveaway that I am indeed a deer caught in the headlights.

His strong hands force my legs open. ‘It’s a good thing I sometimes find you adorable.’

Now I’m actually offended. ‘Why only sometimes?’

He smiles. ‘Maybe always.’

I shouldn’t do this, I think to myself. I feel sorry for him now, he looks so approachable and finally he shows me who he is deep down. The August Walker that I knew was in there, hidden by the walls he has built. The August Walker I saw glimpses of since the day I met him. Okay, maybe not since the day I met him, but since we went to that basketball game.

I place my hands on his broad chest and let my nails drag over his skin. August bridges the space between us and the second our lips touch and his tongue enters my mouth, I hook my feet together behind his hips.

The way this man kisses… I have never been kissed like this. Never have I ever been so overpowered, so dominated.

I’m getting too sucked into this moment, that for a second I forget my plan. He buries his face in my neck, his tongue running over the delicate skin. I bite my lip to keep my moans in, but somehow one escapes.

‘Such a needy little girl,’ he grunts in my nape, before going out of his way to leave his marks on me.

When he kisses my lips again, he seems distracted enough, I think to myself. My hand goes underneath the edge of the table, where I taped the letter opener…

But I can’t find it.

‘You were looking for this?’ he asks when he pulls back. His fingers twirl the letter opener around.

Oh fuck, I screwed up big time.

‘I admire you thought about this,’ he says, ‘but I’m not a total idiot.’ He lets the sharp tip drag over my cheek, causing me to pull back.

‘You knew?’

‘Of course I knew,’ he chuckles. ‘I’m a CIA agent, I notice everything you do. I’m trained to do such thing.’ He pulls back completely and I let out a groan. While he puts the letter opener in the back pocket of his pants, he grabs his shirt from the floor. ‘Shame, Mia, that I can read you like a book, but yet again… I appreciate the effort.’

He turns around with a cocky grin and I clench my jaw. What an asshole. I look around me and see a block of wood next to the table. I jump off the table, grab the wood and rush towards him. I am not giving up, because if I did so, I wouldn’t have become the soccer player I am today.

I was, I mean, because I’ve come to the realization those soccer playing times might be over.

August must’ve heard me (he is a CIA agent after all), but I’m mid swing already and the edge of the block hits him on his temple. I watch as the enormous man falls like a bag of potatoes and I stare at his limp body on the floor.

Did I just kill him?

Before I jump over him to go up the stairs, I quickly check his pulse in his neck. Okay, there is a heartbeat. I climb up the stairs and lock the door.

It’s game time.

I rush to my room, grab my coat and the carriage for Bobo. I figured I would bring him to a shelter, before I would get on the plane, because I’m not leaving my precious orange cat in a safe house with August Walker.

Within record time I have got my bag ready, the file and I grabbed the fake Indonesian passport I need. ‘Come on, Bobo,’ I try to coax him and the dumb ass actually goes into the cage.

‘Mia, don’t fucking do this,’ I hear August yell, as he is trying to force the door open.

Okay, it’s quite a relief to know he really wasn’t dead.

I grab the car keys and when I walk passed his room, my eyes fall on his weapon holster. The one last thing I need. I grab his gun and though I have zero idea on how to use it, I can just do what they do in movies.

Just pull the trigger, right?

I grab the carriage with Bobo, only to hear August breaking out from the basement. The door collapses in front of me and I see his eyes are dark, but not filled with lust like they were a few moments ago.

Filled with absolute rage.

‘Don’t even fucking think about it,’ he growls.

Before I even think, I grab the gun out of the bag and point it to him. My hands are shaking. ‘Let me go,’ I say.

‘Mia, I can’t let you go.’

‘I don’t want the CIA to help me,’ I tell him, as tears run over my cheeks. Way to make your point, Mia. ‘I just want my normal life back.’

‘You can’t and you know that.’

I do know that. ‘I want to find answers on my own,’ I continue, ‘and on my own, doesn’t involve you. I hate you, August Walker, I fucking hate you.’

I can see it in his eyes, that he tells himself that it’s not true and it’s not true. I don’t hate him, I just need to get out of here. He clenches his jaw. ‘Give me the gun, Mia.’

I shake my head. ‘No. Step aside or I’ll shoot.’

Even I’m not convinced…

August walks up to me and places his hand on the barrel, pulling the gun against his chest. ‘Do it then.’

My finger is on the trigger, but… I’m too weak to shoot him. I hand him the gun, before hiding my face into my hands. I lean with my back against the wall. This is so embarrassing. Why on earth did I think I could escape?

I hear August opening the door of the carriage, followed by the soft steps of Bobo.

‘Talk to me, Mia,’ he says, causing me to look up. When our eyes meet, he isn’t mad. He looks so disappointed. but I’m not sure if he’s disappointed in me or himself for letting this happen.

I take a deep breath. I don’t know what to say about this situation. ‘How is your head?’ I ask him, noticing some blood running over the side of his face.

‘It’s okay.’

I simply take his hand and drag him with me to the kitchen. He sits on a lower stool, so I can actually reach his face, without having to wear pointe shoes. I see a small cut on his temple, the source of the stream of blood and I grab the kit he used on me so many times. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say in a soft tone. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking.’

‘Don’t apologize.’

‘But I have to, August. I hurt you.’ I clean the wound, before grabbing the special bandages to pull wounds like this back together.

He sighs deeply. ‘You did what you thought was best. I can’t argue with that.’ His tone is low, raspy, but also soft.

He doesn’t sound angry at all, while I expect him to be. I mean, I kinda wanted to stab him.

‘It’s just that I… I just want to get out of here.’

August nods. ‘I know that and we will go. Eventually.’ When our eyes meet again, I see the hurt. Fuck, I hurt him so badly. Guilt washes over me and there are a million things I could say to him. But he doesn’t let me. ‘Don’t beat yourself up over this.’

He can indeed read me like a fucking book and I should hate that. But I’m actually quite relieved as of now.

‘I’m not beating myself up.’

‘You are.’

I push back some of his hairs, my fingertips running over his scalp. He melts against the touch and shuts his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

‘I won’t escape anymore,’ I whisper.

‘I know.’

‘It’s… I don’t know what possessed me. I mean… I hit you in the head quite hard.’

He shakes his head. ‘Don’t you worry about it. Besides, I’m actually pretty relieved. I now know you can defend yourself properly.’

‘Properly?’ I can’t help but chuckle and I see a tiny smile form on his lips. ‘Don’t over exaggerate. August, I just… I feel so useless here. I don’t remember a lot of stuff. I just sit here and wait. I haven’t done that in a long time.’

He nods. ‘You are not useless.’

‘I need to do something with my time. It’s awful sitting here, with you breathing down my neck.’

He smiles. ‘How about I teach you some basic self defense tips?’

‘Please,’ I say. ‘Honestly, you could ask me to do some embroidery and I would take it.’

He places a hand on my back and actually forces me to sit on his thighs. My eyes enlarge, causing him to chuckle. ‘I meant what I said in there,’ he says. ‘Both the deer caught in the headlights part and the needy little girl part.’

Yeah, I just want to disappear and I wished that could be arranged. ‘Could we maybe not mention that. Like, ever again? I’d like to maintain some form of dignity.’

His lips graze over my cheeks. ‘Had I not found the letter opener,’ he whispers, ‘how far would you let me go?’

‘Not far. I was gonna stab you, August,’ I chuckle, but it’s a nervous one, since I can hardly focus as I sit on his thick thighs. ‘Why?’

‘Because something tells me… You’ve never done that before.’

That can’t be good. I feel like my self confidence just disappeared into thin air. ‘Was it that bad?’

‘No, no, no!’ he quickly says. ‘It’s just that your heart rate was out of the roof and… You seemed nervous.’

‘I kinda was. But mostly because I needed to stab you.’

‘Liar.’

‘I’m not a liar.’

‘You are,’ he says, before placing a kiss on my cheekbone. It’s so soft and tender, almost a full 180 of that kiss he gave me in the basement, a place I will never go back to again, because I’ll probably die of shame. ‘And that’s okay.’

I want to say something, but then I hear a loud meow and August growling. ‘Stupid cat, stop doing that!’

‘The attack thing on your leg?’ I ask him.

‘Yes, what a stupid idiot.’

‘Hey, don’t talk to him like that!’ I look over and see Bobo peeking around the corner of the kitchen island. ‘I can’t believe I genuinely thought I could take Bobo with me on my little adventure.’

August pulls me closer to him. ‘It shows your character, Mia.’

I meet his eyes again. ‘You’re not mad at me anymore?’

‘I haven’t been mad at you. I know you don’t want to stay here and that is a mutual feeling. I just have to know I can guarantee your safety.’

I nod. ‘When do you think we can leave?’

‘Next week somewhere?’

‘Is it allowed for me to get wasted or am I bringing the operation in danger if I do so?’

He smiles. ‘One drink, that’s the best I can do.’

I don’t want to do it, but I press my lips against his. A quick peck, nothing compared to the kiss earlier. But it’s all I can do right now. ‘Can we start now?’

5 days at the safe house

‘What’s that?’ I ask August, when he places a box on the table.

Ever since my little escape debacle (I let August swear never to mention it again and so far he lips were sealed), time doesn’t go by as slowly and August actually trusts me now. I don’t have justify myself for every step I take. He teaches me some self defense, but I’m a very slow learner and he tries to be patient, but really isn’t.

It’s nice being around August, especially when he tries to be nice to Bobo.

He is just a bit uneasy around the cat.

‘It’s for you,’ he says, not making eye contact.

‘It’s not even my birthday,’ I say.

August simply shrugs. ‘I can give you gifts, right?’

‘I mean, if you want, you won’t hear me complaining. I love gifts.’ I grab the box and pull it closer to me. It’s not really tightly closed, so I can easily open it. I peek inside, only to discover a…

A soccer ball?

‘Are you serious?’ I ask him. ‘Why?’

‘Because I know you miss soccer,’ he tells me. ‘I know I can’t bring back full stadiums, screaming fans and a better opponent, but this is the least I can do. Just remember: take good care of your foot.’

‘Of course, of course.’ A smile appears on my face and I take it out of the box, balancing the ball on my hand. Memories flash through my mind. My first soccer ball, the first goal I made in amateur soccer, after that professional soccer.

I walk around the table and I give him a kiss on his cheek. Ever since kissing one another after the basement event, we didn’t do that anymore. But now feels like an appropriate time to do so? Maybe not, but it’s happening now.

I can’t go back now.

‘Since I can’t use my foot, you want to throw it with me?’

‘Of course,’ he says. However, before we can start, I sense he wants to say something to me. I wait, but he shakes it off. ‘Never mind. Let me move the couch, so we have more room.’

10 days at the safe house

I am in a deep sleep, when I hear some rumbling sounds in the background. I open my eyes, but I figure out it’s one of August’s nightly escapades. He does that quite often in the middle of the night. Just wandering around, moving around some things and sometimes I even hear him exercising. I wonder if he ever sleeps.

Not me though, when it’s dark outside, I’m sleeping.

I turn around and try to drift off in a nice sleep again, hoping to go back to that lovely dream again, but then my door opens. I jolt awake, when August enters my room. ‘Easy now,’ August says. ‘You’re coming with me.’

‘What’s happening?’

‘I got your clothes, your stuff, everything. Even your creepy cat worked with me and got in his carriage.’ He hands me a thick sweater and helps me in it. My head is still a bit drowsy and my body barely works. August lifts me up and I place my head against his shoulder.

‘I can walk,’ I mumble.

‘I know, but you’re sleepy,’ he whispers. ‘Besides, I don’t mind.’

That shouldn’t make me smile as much as it does.

He carries me to the car and places me in the passengers seat. He starts the car and with an illegal speed he drives off. I look over my shoulder, to see Bobo in the carriage.

‘What’s happening, August?’ I ask him. ‘Why are we leaving?’

‘We might’ve been found,’ he says, his eyes not leaving the road.

I nod. I grab his hand from the steering wheel and I hold it in both of mine. ‘I trust you,’ I whisper. ‘I really do.’

#august walker #august walker x ofc #august walker x asian ofc #august walker x oc #august walker x mia makaruku #august walker fanfiction #august walker fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #fic: protection #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom

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avasghost · 3 years ago

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wip meme tag thing

thank you for the tag @mp-golfin!

(also if anyone saw me post this on the wrong blog and then delete it no u didn't :)) rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips. i think i did this like a year ago and things have changed somewhat! also jsyk everything before cottonwood was written when i was like 9 to 12 so. yeah.

battles in the air

the journey home

the girl from two worlds

project witches

shallow blue

tempest

cottonwood

white clover

crane anatomy

when we drown

every sun that ever died

house ghosts

how long until the city burns

untitled

dandelion

this is where we fall apart

how to disappear

tagging: @annlillyjose @chewingthescenery @august-iswriting @coffeeandcalligraphy @rodentwrites @the-writerly-things @zmlorenz @akindofmagictoo @ashen-crest @writing-is-a-martial-art @zoya-writes @euphoniouspandemonium @emelkae @florraisons @cryptidsandqueers @strangerays @cryptid-s-wips

#tag game #all wips

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solitvdcs · 3 years ago

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* kathryn newton, cis female + she/her | you know zoey simon-archer, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, eight years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to a little wicked by valerie broussard like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole black clothes and black coffee, dark under eye circles barely covered with concealer, might put a hex on you thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is august 10, so they’re a leo, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

TRIGGER WARNING: CHILD ABANDONMENT

basic info

full name: zoey tallulah simon-archer

birth date: august 10, 1997

pronouns: she/her

hometown: boston, massachusetts

sexuality: bisexual

height: 5’1”

eye color: blue

hair color: blonde

build: slim

tattoos: one of her younger siblings doodled on her arm and she said ok i see u and made it permanent

piercings: basically every piercing you can get on your ears split between both (no piercing is in the same spot except maybe the earlobes, she thrives on the chaos), septum

style: if it’s black and shapeless then yes

favorite color: black

favorite food: whatever she can find in the house while scavenging at 3am

zodiac: leo sun, scorpio moon, capricorn rising

mbti: istp

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

enneagram: type 4 wing 5

temperament: choleric/sanguine

alignment: chaotic neutral

bio bullet points

CHILD ABANDONEMENT TW it’s unclear how zoey came into this world, but what we do know is that she was dropped off on the doorstep of a fire station before her birth mom disappeared into the night. no note, no keepsakes, just two week old zoey wrapped in a nondescript blanket that was probably the one the hospital wrapped her in. the rest of her childhood was a blur of failed adoptions and shitty foster homes across the country (east coast especially), leaving her with no ability to fully connect with anyone and, okay, maybe a mild anger problem. rage blackouts weren’t uncommon, but in one foster home they had an old nintendo 64 and she learned to channel her anger through video games instead END TW

along came the archers, a lesbian couple that already had twelve other children. zoey was fifteen already and had fully expected to age out of the system and end up another statistic. for a good year after the adoption was finalized, zoey still didn’t trust that they wouldn’t send her back, so she acted out. she wanted to give them an excuse and get it over with, but her tactics went unnoticed in a cheaper by the dozen-esque household. her new moms couldn’t give her the attention she craved with so many bodies, but her older siblings stepped up and tried to make her comfortable. it sort of worked, but being smack dab in the middle of so many kids meant she faded into the background more often than not

at school, she thrived without trying, a natural aptitude for math and science and mechanics landing her a place on the robotics team, but because her many siblings had already made names for themselves, the archer name was almost like a curse for her. she didn’t want to be known as another archer adoptee, so she went by the name she’d carried with her from birth: simon. zoey simon could be her own person, whoever the fuck that was

one day, the robotics coach brought in their old computer for anyone who wanted to tinker around with it, and wanting an excuse to stay out as long as possible, zoey jumped on the opportunity. over the course of the semester (with the coach’s guidance) she took apart and put it back together again, upgrading it with some donated parts from a local electronics store. the best part? coach let her keep the computer after she was done

obligatory at some point she cheated on frankie with both sutter and ziggy ✌️😗

anyway we’re onto college, where she got hella scholarships and grants for being a girlboss and ended up at university of michigan, studying mechanical engineering. money was still tight, though, so she spent her first year trying to balance studies and a part time job at the local superstore, but her mental health and grades started suffering to the point that she almost lost her scholarships for her second semester. Between semesters, over a night of video games with her roommate, she offhandedly suggested zoey start live streaming her playthroughs. it may not make all that much, but a few viewers and subs would be better than nothing

but oh boy did she do better than a few viewers and subs

using a digital rendering of a random avatar and a voice modulator, psychozomatic was born, and they blew up. popular streamers started inviting her to their servers, and she made enough to cover all of her extra costs and then some — she graduated summa cum laude because of streaming, but she couldn’t stop after graduation; she was doing something she loved and getting paid for it. that’s what people always hoped for in a job, right? so after graduation, she fabricated a job to her friends and family to explain the income, moved into her own apartment with a soundproofed second bedroom (that she kept under lock and key for whenever anyone came over) and kept up the facade. it’s been five years and nobody even knows she’s a girl — female streamers get so much shit, she’s not sure she ever wants to do a face reveal. she’s perfectly content for the time being having everyone think “zo” stands for “lorenzo” or “vincenzo” or whatever, and being a faceless streamer means she gets the weird blend of notoriety and anonymity that she craved her whole life

personality wise, zoey is a mash-up of deadpan humor and snark. she’s never been good at face-to-face communication, which is why streaming works so well for her. she’s never known how to flirt and has been known to tie someone’s shoelaces together in an attempt to get their attention, which has obviously not worked out for her. once showed a person she thought was cute the computer she built and well...they were impressed but nothing came out of it. she’s probably a lost cause, but she can just play a dating simulator if she’s that lonely

is big on first person shooter games — the main reason she keeps her identity hidden, because people get nasty in those lobbies. also absolutely loves horror games, currently doing a playthrough of resident evil village on her stream

wanted connections

fans of her stream !!! obviously they wouldn’t know it’s her but it’ll still give her a lil smile and maybe even a blush if she hears someone talking about “zo”

other gamers she’s played with ???

people she met in the foster system

someone who has a crush on her and she has no idea bc she can’t read people (and vice versa)

friends of her siblings that had no idea she was one of them (i’m mean to her bt i think it wld be funny)

i’ve been working on this intro for like a week this is all i got pls take it and run <3

#irvingintro #u would think for how long i've been working on this it wld be longer but no <3 #anyway enjoy xoxoxoxo

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cheesyficwriter · 4 years ago

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Hey! First of all, I loved that drunk Hermione fic. Will u pls write a angsty Romione smut fic with #6 of angst prompt list?

Hi Anon! I had so much fun writing drunk Hermione, so glad you enjoyed it. Thanks so much for the ask 💜 my first thought was that I actually have written something similar that fills the #6 angsty smut prompt (also includes "fuck you" as the prompt does 🤣), in a chapter of one of my completed multi-chapter fics, Lost in Translation. If you haven't read it, you can feel free to check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019949/chapters/68639082

Buuuut, I thought of another angle, so here you go 😀 rated M for mature themes and sexual situations.

One More Time

It was a Saturday night in late August and the Leaky Cauldron was filled to the brim with many young adult witches and wizards who previously attended Hogwarts. They gathered occasionally, once every few months, to catch up over pints and share stories from over the years.

Ron was seated on a stool at the bar, alternating between chatting about the Chudley Canons' most recent season with Seamus and flirting awkwardly with the unfamiliar blonde who had sidled up beside him only a few minutes after he had walked into the pub.

Yet, he didn't miss the flash of brown, curly hair that appeared and disappeared from his view frequently throughout the evening. And he was left entirely too frustrated by the notion that this particular person had their eye on him. After about the fifth occurrence, Ron grabbed his pint and politely excused himself from the disappointed woman next him, as he walked through the crowd, pausing at various points to greet old friends.

Old friends and lovers, that is. Ron stopped short just behind the familiar stature of one of his oldest friends, who also happened to be his ex-girlfriend. She was chatting away with Luna, seemingly oblivious to him standing behind her. It had been quite the year since they had decided, or rather Hermione had decided, they were best off going their separate ways. We argue too much, she had said, there is no way we can make this relationship work and we should end it before we lose our friendship completely. However, Ron thought bitterly to himself, there didn't seem to be much of a friendship left between them anyway. They had barely spoken over the recent months, instead exchanging only a few lackluster letters back and forth about their various travels and work endeavors. Of course, he had seen her quite a bit through mutual friend outings, but it was all very stiff and cordial. Their relationship wasn’t the same anymore and breaking up didn’t seem to resolve any issues between them.

From Ron's current position, he could see Hermione surreptitiously glance over to the spot at the bar where he once was, brows now furrowed over in confusion as she found the spot to be vacant. Luna cleared her throat and gestured for Hermione to look backwards and it was then that Hermione's head whipped around to face Ron, and her lips parted in surprise.

"Ron...hi," she breathed out quietly, almost too quietly to be heard over the boisterous noise in the room.

"Why are you watching me, Hermione?" His tone remained neutral and flat, not bothering with any sort of formal greeting.

Hermione instantly frowned at the question. He surveyed her face as it contorted into anger. "What are you going on about? I am not watching you."

“You are. I’ve caught you five...no, six times, if you count the last look I just witnessed.” He pointed to his previous seat at the bar. Hermione turned scarlet from his words and Ron could see a muscle in her jaw twitch.

“I’m surprised you’ve noticed anything with the way you were gawking over Rosie Cantini,” she sneered back. Was that the blonde’s name? Ron wouldn’t have known because he was too busy trying to sort out Hermione’s infuriating glances, although he would never admit that to her.

“You left me. You don’t get to come in here and act like a jealous girlfriend when I’m just trying to enjoy my night.”

Hermione scoffed in his face, as her nostrils flared. “Oh, that’s rich! I haven’t been bothering you, have I? And may I just point out that you are the one that approached me tonight. I am not jealous!”

“Sure you’re not,” Ron spat out, just before he stormed off towards the loo without bothering to wait for a response.

Hermione felt the rage pulse through her veins. She spun quickly on her heel and followed Ron determinedly to the opposite side of the pub, bypassing anyone who tried to get her attention along the way. She managed to reach the door he had dragged himself through just before it closed and she pushed it open wide with all of her might, fueled by the anger that flooded through her.

Ron's eyes went round as Hermione propelled her way into the restroom, slamming the door shut behind her with a flick of her wand. She added silencing and locking charms before turning towards Ron, her eyes blazing with fire.

“Are you bloody mental?” Ron shouted, his temper sparked by her invasion of privacy.

"If I am, so what? I'm not going to just let you run off in the middle of a conversation, like a petulant child! Is it too hard to think that we can both be civilized adults about all of this?"

"Fuck you."

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Ron growled through gritted teeth, taking a step forward. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as he had her effectively pinned now to the back of the door. “Fuck you, and your rules, your incessant nagging, and your constant need to always be right. For once, just admit that the sight of me with another woman drives you mad.”

Hermione’s pupils flared and her lower lip quivered slightly, as her rage-filled expression morphed into a burning one filled with desire.

Her lips were on Ron’s before he could even process the change in her tempered gaze. Ron let out a guttural moan as he pushed her hard into the door with a bang. One of his hands slid up to cup her cheek, his tongue gliding across her bottom lip just before he bit down on it, causing Hermione to whimper and dig her fingernails into his back. Ron’s other hand trailed its way down her body until he had firmly gripped her arse tight, driving her pelvis into his hardened erection poking through his trousers.

He lifted her up off the floor, her legs wrapping around his hips instinctively, and he deposited her bum down onto the cold, solid countertop next to the sink.

"Just one more time," Ron mumbled against her lips, already hiking her dress above her hips.

"Yeah….one more time," Hermione agreed through labored breaths, her hands undoing the buttons on his trousers. Although, they had said this very same statement one month ago, right before they shagged on Hermione's kitchen table. And the month before that, and the month before that…

In one fell swoop, Ron had shoved his trousers and boxers down to his knees and Hermione slid out of her knickers to reveal her pulsating flesh. Not even having to ask about protection, knowing Hermione always took the potion regularly, he positioned himself at her entrance and pressed into her until he filled her completely.

Both let out immediate grunts of pleasure, each comforted by the familiarity of the other’s body. Hermione gripped the edge of the countertop for leverage as Ron slammed into her over and over again. He buried his nose into the curls that bunched around Hermione’s shoulders and Hermione’s teeth grazed his shoulder through the cloth of his shirt. Neither took the time to comprehend the situation they had found themselves in, both instead choosing to absorb the sensation of skin against skin as they clung together.

Their pleasure-filled moans echoed off the silenced walls. The anger that had been building between them had boiled over and the fast release was mutually satisfying.

They didn’t speak. They never did, even when he would show up at her flat randomly, or when she would grab him by the arm at one of Ginny’s quidditch matches and pull him behind the stands.

"We can't keep doing this," Ron eventually whispered, his voice raw and hoarse.

"I know."

Ron nuzzled his nose with Hermione's. Her scent was intoxicating. Her body seemingly fit perfectly with his. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, he was consumed by her. He wasn’t quite sure if that feeling would ever go away.

"Come home with me."

Hermione’s eyes glistened as she stared into the depths of Ron’s deep blue orbs, not willing to look away. "Okay."

Maybe tomorrow would be the day they would finally let go. Or maybe not. Maybe they aren’t ready yet. Or maybe they never will be. Maybe they were both still clinging to the hope, the hope that the other person would realize that they are meant for each other and that there is just simply nothing else that matters.

#romione #romione fanfic #fanfiction #writing #writing prompt #cheesyficwriter #ron x hermione #ron weasley #hermione granger #smut #smut fic #angst #love

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calebmontg · 4 years ago

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* DYLAN O’BRIEN , CIS MALE + HE / HIM | you know CALEB MONTGOMERY , right ? they’re TWENTY SIX , and they’ve lived in irving for , like , A COUPLE MONTHS AT MOST ? well , their spotify wrapped says they listened to WAVES BY DEAN LEWIS like , a million times this year , which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole RUBBING GLITTER ON PUNCTURE WOUNDS , SITTING CROSS LEGGED IN A SMOKE CIRCLE , SCREAMING SONG LYRICS ON A STRANGER’S ROOFTOP thing going on . i just checked and their birthday is AUGUST 3RD , so they’re a LEO , which is unsurprising , all things considered .

TW INCLUDE drugs tw , addiction tw , rehab tw , death tw , drunk driving tw , depression tw

alli known for disappearing constantly and never sticking to one muse back again with a muse near and dear to my heort that makes me smile ok that was gross lets get into it <3

AESTHETICS :

rubbing glitter on puncture wounds, sitting crossed legged in a smoke circle, screaming song lyrics on a stranger’s rooftop, inciting riots and running from your own shadow, sweaty dancing, hanging out the sunroof of a moving car, pretending to be someone else, accessorizing eyebags and sweatpants with feather boas, a coming of age movie soundtrack, liquor stores and afterparties, a map without directions.

CHARACTER INSPO :

huckleberry finn ( the adventures of huckleberry finn ) , seth cohen ( the oc ) , klaus hargreeves ( the umbrella academy ) , elliot goss ( search party ) , charlie kelly ( it’s always sunny ) , hamlet ( hamlet , don’t ask about this one but the connection is there ) , a series of strange headcanons i’ve developed over that years that can’t be accurately put to words

GENERAL STATISTICS :

full name : caleb augustus montgomery

age / dob : twenty six / august 3rd

gender : cis male

pronouns : he / him

faceclaim : dylan o’brien

orientation : homosexual

residence : abernathy creek

occupation : drug dealer / mooch

pinterest : HERE !

BIOGRAPHY :

caleb was born in new york city ( the upper east side ) to two doctors, his lovely but hollow mother and his cold and distant father. when he was a baby his father had an affair with another married woman resulting in the birth of his half sister, lydia montgomery, but they never grew up so much as knowing the other’s name.

he played lacrosse at his private preppy annoying rich kids high school, and surprisingly was really good at it, but he quit after a series of unfortunate events that would ultimately lead to his first stint in rehab.

he’s a dealer. he’s been a dealer since he was a freshman in high school, when he realized he could use the money to stop relying on his parent’s income and his inheritance that he was positive he would sooner be murdered for than ever receive.

at first he didn’t even do the drugs that he sold, he just pocketed the money and had a little hustle, but he inevitably started smoking the weed, and when he widened his range of inventory ( he called it diversifying his assets ) he took a lot of everything else as well. it meant he didn’t have to sit in his numbness anymore so alright baby!

heavy partier, heavy drinker, heavy user. his grades and his performance on the field dropped drastically. he slept around a lot ( tried to. he’s very much Gay but that realization didn’t come for a long time ) and pretty much turned into a giant dickwad.

DRUNK DRIVING TW. REHAB TW. he crashed his dad’s lamborghini one night driving blackout and when he woke up in his hospital he found his parents had packed his bags and enrolled him in rehab.

he doesn’t talk about it.

boarding school came next, and old habits die hard, but he managed to graduate. he went to college and got a degree in chemistry because he’s surprisingly smart but he’s never learned how to work an honest job and he doesn’t plan on it.

he put himself in rehab sometime between his freshman and sophomore year. he talks about it sometimes. not ashamed of it and it actually helped him quite a bit.

DEATH TW. near the end of what was supposed to be his senior year, he received the news that his mother had passed. it was most likely his father’s doing, but white rich men can get away with anything, so he sits free. caleb steals mercilessly from him to get by, but deep down, he’s really quite terrified of the man and chose to travel around aimlessly after graduation to avoid going back to new york.

wound up in irving after a bender that lead him to abernathy creek somehow and he liked it so he’s been crashing there ever since. he doesn’t really know how long it’s been so i do not know either <3 probably about two months but he doesn’t remember half of even that <3

MISCELLANEOUS :

he’s still a dealer. marijuana, pills, powder, miscellaneous concoctions, he’ll sell you anything. he’d gotten a lot better about using in the time leading up to his mother’s death but that wagon’s been fallen off.

he’s really depressed. he’s always been really depressed but he’s. on the up right now.

never not wearing sweats. pretty bad at remembering to shave. a man of culture! still will find an excuse to dress up for theme parties which are his secret lifeblood, especially if they’re stupid.

he’s gay just straight up not straight at all. had his awakening in college and hasn’t looked back.

lives to torment others, can’t take anything seriously, and genuinely a puppy of a person. quite frankly extremely annoying in the wrong crowd.

tall and lanky and scrappy he has a lot of anger the kind of person who probably bit a lot of people as a child. unapologetically chaotic.

he’s intelligent but he’s also super unmotivated. he straight up did not attend class and scraped by literally by the grace of some god. he doesn’t use his brain much at all.

lazy. hates labor. crude sense of humor.

a really fucking good time <3 he will invite himself to parties he does not need to be asked he somehow just knows. he calls it a sixth sense for sniffing out heathenism.

likes almost everyone but also dramatic. sleeps around. lives for causing chaos and being the center of attention and unapologetic about it.

WANTED CONNECTIONS :

couches he crashes on if he doesn’t think he’ll make it back to the commune because he’s too inebriated to stand or simply too lazy to find his way back.

hookups. he may call you back but only if he’s lonely. actually has a good heart but where has that ever gotten him?

friends. a whole friend group please. messy. let’s start drama.

people he sells to, people he buys from, other dealers that don’t like that this dude who somehow always has good shit has landed themselves in town and is making himself a Presence.

someone he met while singing a duet at the bar and now they’re attached at the hip. stealing from karaoke night theme because i think this is how he would genuinely make friends.

someone who doesn’t like him and he’s so self absorbed he hasn’t noticed at all.

people who live in abernathy creek and are literally like what the fuck are you doing here. you stole my bed. and he says i’m sorry <3 do u want to get a drink?

people who do not want him to leave town and every time he says i must be going say .. no please don’t.

um i don’t know i can come up with a million random scenarios for him i’ll put out a plot call and come up with more if none of these work?

#irvingintro #drugs tw #addiction tw #rehab tw #death tw #drunk driving tw #depression tw #ok this was so many tw hes had.#a rough go of it hasn't he.#bio

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