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#what was i doing about fifteen years ago? just scroll down to the right part of my playlist and see what i added
zarla-s · 2 years
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do you happen to have a playlist of music i could listen to on spotify or somewhere? i’ve found a couple songs you’ve listed on fanfics or on your tumblr that i fell in love with like go long, pretty when you cry, and rain of brass petals. i would really appreciate that!
Ah I don't use any streaming services for my music, I don't trust them like an old coot :B All my music is saved on my computer in a gigantic Winamp playlist organized chronologically. I've thought idly sometimes about setting up a youtube version of it but...
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Yeeaaaaah it turns out if you collect music for 20+ years and never delete anything you end up with a ridiculous amount haha. But! I do have a few little music things you can check out! Maybe you'll find something you like on them.
Those Responsible/Outer Loop - A FST of songs that inspired different parts of Vargas and the sidefics. These should be fairly lowkey if that's what you're after.
Ladyverse FST Volume 2 - A massive amount of songs associated with the ladies in various states - infected, cured, survivors... the first volume is here, I apparently never posted it on Tumblr it seems.
Refresh CDS - CDs I burned for driving in the car. I called them Refresh since they were rewritable CDs and I'd tweak and finetune them over time. There were a lot of these before I got my current car that supports iPods! Then I switched to a general "Car" playlist. But I had a lot of fun making these! They bring back such clear memories of certain periods of time. Each CD progresses from hyper to solemn.
Volume 1 - "GOD I love Autotune!!!"
Volume 2 - "Songs of space/dance/the internet"
Volume 3 - "I was really into TF2 at the time"
Volume 4 - "Zombieladies on the attack!"
Volume 5 - "Is 'obnoxious' a theme?"
I should post the whole set someday, I think I got up to Refresh 12 before I switched to my iPod. I also have a last.fm profile so you can see what I listen to, though I don't think you can use it to listen to any of it yourself. I also have a youtube playlist for musical vids although it's not very thorough or extensive compared to my big playlist, and one for Vocaloid songs too if you're into that, haha.
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nessatwene-art · 1 month
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TPP: EP 1
It’s the first day of school at Central High and the first day of third year for Lucas, already over it before he could amble into the building. It’s just another school year. Robyn stepped out of a car, waving her mom goodbye. She let out a soft sigh, gazing up at the high school. She just wanted to get through her first day at her new school without any trouble. 
The student body crammed their way into the gymnasium. Red, white and black confetti were scattered everywhere, and balloons arched a speaking podium in the middle of the gym. A huge red banner hung across the wall saying “Welcome Cardinals!” in big white letters. 
The pep rally was always the most annoying part of the first day, Lucas thought, sitting next to his friends on the crowded, rowdy bleachers. The marching band music, the obnoxious cheerleaders, too much pomp and circumstance. He plugged his ear buds, attempting to drown out the noise.
“Omg hi!! Hey!! How’s it going!” Clarissa waved at everyone she missed this past summer. 
Mark scrolled through his phone, passing post after post about different monster appearances around Union. Regular Monday news.
“Hi,” Robyn pointed at the open space next to Clarissa, “Is this seat taken?”
“No, go ahead!” Clarissa scooted over, “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“I’m new here.”
Clarissa gasped, starry eyed, “That’s so exciting!” Clarissa poked at Mark and Lucas, “Guys! A new student!”
Robyn gave them a nervous smile, they awkwardly waved back.
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“I’m Clarissa by the way.” Clarissa held out her hand.
“Robyn, I’m a junior,” She happily shook it. How friendly, She thought.
“The one with the glasses is Mark, and the brooding one is Lucas. They’re like my best buds.” Clarissa introduced the others. “Also juniors.”
“Clar, I’m not brooding,” Lucas yawned, “Just tired.”
“It's 7:45, dude, wake up,” Mark shoved Lucas’s shoulder. 
Mic feedback rippled through the gym and all chatter and music shushed. The principal stood against the podium, welcoming the students into a new school year with obvious cringe and outdated slang here and there. 
“Hey,” Clarissa whispered to Robyn, “If you want, we can give you a tour around campus during lunch.”
Robyn agreed, it beats feeling lost for a week. Plus she liked Clarissa’s hospitality.
Students fizzled out of the gym, cramming through the hallway. 
Clarissa offered to help Robyn locate her locker as they strolled along in front of the other two. It was sort of a special skill of Clarissa to seem like close friends to someone she met fifteen minutes ago.
Mark nudged Lucas, “Doing anything this year?”
“I don’t know…” Lucas scratched his head.
“Baseball?”
“Our team sucked last year.”
“Well you could always—”
“I’m not joining robotics, Mark,” Lucas rolled his eyes, stopping in front of his locker.
“Whoa!” Clarissa hollered just a couple lockers down, “You guys are neighbors!” She pointed at Robyn opening hers at the lower level. Robyn gave yet another awkward smile.
“What about competition? You haven’t done those in a while,” Mark leaned against the wall.
“My dad’s been on my case about fighting,” Lucas threw random supplies from his backpack into his locker, “Saying I should ‘focus on school extracurriculars and whatever,'” Lucas gave his best dad impression. “I don’t know what the issue is.”
A Skateboarder swept through the hallway, “Whoops!” swiping Lucas backpack right out of his hands, scattering books and papers across the floor.
“What the hell!” Lucas, annoyed, bent over to pick his stuff up.
“Oh gosh,” Robyn helped gather up the remaining.
The skateboarder slowly scooted back, eyeing Robyn.
“Never seen you before,” He smirked
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“Piss off, Blake,” Lucas spat.
“Take it easy,” Blake relaxed his hands in his jean pockets, “I’m just trying our new friend.”
“Well, I’m Robyn,” For better or for worse, she introduced herself one more time, “I’m new…you get the picture.”
“Right, right, and I guess you already made friends with Mucas, Crony, and braceface.”
“Hey!” Clarissa objected.
“Rude…” Mark added.
Lucas kicked Blake’s board, rolling it down the hallway.
“The hell?! That was a new board!”
“Then don’t knock over my stuff!” Lucas said, tightening his fist at Blake.
Not a second too soon the principal stood over the two with a skateboard around his arm, “Break it up!” He looked unpleasant. “If you lay a finger on each other it'll be straight to detention!”
“Sorry, Principal Finke,” Lucas and Blake said in unison as if they rehearsed it thousands of times.
“And there’s no skateboarding in the building! I’ll be confiscating this till further notice.”
“Aw come on!” Blake protested.
BRING!! The first bell rang. 
“Hurry off to homeroom, all of you. Luckily It’s meatball sub Monday so I’m in a good mood,” The principal walked off.
“Tch dork ass,” Blake insulted the principal. He turned back to Robyn, smirked and shrugged. “It was nice to meet you, Robbie,” then he sauntered away.
“Geeeezz,” Clarissa groaned.
“Yeah…uh sorry about that,” Lucas apologized. “He’s…”
“An asshole?” Robyn finished.
“Yup.”
BRING!!  the bell rang again.
“Do you mind helping me find my homeroom, Clarissa?” Robyn asked.
“Sure!” They began walking together. “Robyn tour during lunch! Don’t forget!” Clarissa called out to the boys heading their separate ways.
“307…307…” Robyn mumbled, looking for her last class before lunch. 
She walked into a science classroom, already filled with other students, Blake among them, hanging out before the bell rings. She noticed Lucas sitting at a desk in the last row, head perched on his hand, buds in his ear, and gazing out the window. Robyn took the empty desk right in front of him, they may not be close but at least he’s a familiar face.
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“Um Luke, right?”
“Close,” He took his earbuds out, “Lucas.”
“Oh right, right,” She playfully knocked her forehead. 
Robyn wondered what to talk about, Lucas seemed much more reserved than his enthusiastic friend, Clarissa. “Are you into chemistry?” This is a chemistry class…
“Eh,” Lucas shrugged, “It's fine I guess.”
“Ah.” 
Lucas folded his arms and leaned back against his chair, “Picked up a thing or two from my dad. He really wanted me to take it though. it’s like his thing.”
“Uh huh,” Robyn nodded.
“So where’re you from?”
“I’m from Union, I've been in Central for most of my life.”
“Then where'd you go? Eastman? Rolling Green? Kilbourne?
The question stung her a bit. After all she wanted to leave that behind but she knew it was inevitable.
“Um…Ravenwood…”
“Ravenwood?” Lucas leaned forward.
Robyn could feel the slight twinge of embarrassment. “Y-yeah.”
“Huh,” Lucas lingered for a second, “I could see it.”
The bell finally rang and students took their seats as their teacher rushed in through the door.
“Good morning everyone,” The teacher began scribbling her name on the whiteboard in front of the class. “I’m Elizabeth Vader, but you can call me Ms. Ellie,” She said in a bright smile. “Welcome to AP Chem!”
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Ms. Ellie passed out syllabuses then pulled out a bowl filled with small pieces of paper. “Please pick one piece of paper,” She explained while walking down the rows, “And whoever gets the same number as you is your lab partner for the semester.”
A few students groaned.
Ms. Ellie made it to the last row, Robyn and Lucas drew a lot.
“7,” Robyn’s paper read.
Lucas tapped her shoulder, holding out his paper, “7.”
“Guess we’re lab partners,” Lucas said.
“Lab partners and locker neighbors. What are the chances?” Robyn laughed.
Students talked amongst themselves for a bit, as Ms. Ellie prepared material at her front desk. Robyn overheard a couple of peers talking about the recent news, unnaturals, mysterious monsters that have appeared in Union for some time. One mentioned how he thought one of the unnaturals looked kind of cool, describing it the best he could. bright yellow eyes, huge talons, and two pairs of wings that allowed it to soar like a jet. 
“That sounds like a yellow core ave unnatural!” Robyn butted in, “not crazy rare or anything, but some aves can fly over 300 miles per hour, which is faster than the fastest bird on earth, and—” Robyn trailed off, “oh sorry…” She adjusted her glasses.
“No, no, it’s cool,” The student reassured her.
“Pffft ha!” Lucas cracked up, “Now I definitely see it.”
The bell rang and students filed out of the room heading towards the cafeteria. Robyn sat at her desk packing up while Lucas sat on the desktop texting Clarissa their ETA. 
“Oh Robyn!” Ms. Ellie walked up towards her, “Sorry for being a little nosy, but I overheard your little convo and saw you have credit from a summer program at the Union Institute.”
“Mm hm.”
“I think it’s very impressive! I don’t meet too many students who are very passionate about studying unnaturals.”
“Thanks Ms. Ellie,” Robyn blushed.
“Would you be interested in seeing the science department’s core collection?”
Robyn gasped, “I would love to!”
She followed Ms. Ellie to the department's storage room at the back of the class. Lucas jumped from the desktop, tailing behind them.
Ms. Ellie turned on the lights and opened a large cabinet next to a shelf of extra beakers and graduated cylinders. Inside were seven half gallon sized glass tubes with a metal base and a top locked with a hatch. Each held a colorful crystal orb. Half shined brilliantly while the others were dim. They all had labels taped around the thick glass with their designated nomenclature; Red cored beast, yellow cored aquatic, yellow cored flora, and so on.
“I’m sure it’s not as impressive as the Union Institute,” Ms. Ellie took one out, passing it to Robyn.
“There’s so much variety! Plus these stasis chambers look brand new!” Robyn gleefully examined. 
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Ms. Ellie noticed Lucas leaning against the door frame. “Would you like to see?” She handed him an unnatural stasis chamber before he could utter a word.
“How was the program, Robyn?” She asked.
“It was great!” Robyn hopped in excitement, “I learned so much. The labs were so cool and modern! Plus the food was pretty darn good.”
“How lovely!”
“Even better, I got to meet the lab’s director and he offered me an after school internship!”
“That’s wonderful, Robyn!”
“Wait, for real?” Lucas added, juggling the glowing red core given by Ms. Ellie with his bare hands. 
“Yeah! But…” Robyn’s excitement grew quiet. “I don’t know if my project idea will be approved if—”
“Lucas! My goodness!” Ms. Ellie interrupted.
“...What?” Lucas said, startled.
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“Don’t take active cores out of their stasis chambers!” She scolded him. “If it’s left out too long its form could regenerate!”
“It’s not like it’s gonna reform in a second,” he threw the core up, catching it like a ball.
Ms. Ellie winced. “Lucas, put it back please,” She threw her hands on her hips with a stern frown.
He groaned, putting the core back in its chamber and locking its hatch. He placed the chamber on the closest shelf stocked with extra chem equipment.
Ms. Ellie exhaled in relief. “Well,” she cleared her throat, “You two don't want to miss lunch right?” 
“Oh right, my tour!” Robyn remembered.
Ms. Ellie escorted them out of the classroom, shutting the door behind her.
The door creaked back open. A figure tiptoed through the classroom to the storage room, easily breaking in. They took the chamber sitting on the shelf placed by Lucas, unlocked  its hatch, and set the shining red core on the tiled floor. It began to simmer. The figure hurried out the room, leaving the door cracked open.
“There you guys are!” Clarissa stood outside the bustling cafeteria.  
“We had class on the third floor,” Lucas replied, walking beside Robyn, “Plus the new girl’s a teacher’s pet.”
“Hey,” Robyn objected, “For your information we were having a great conversation till he decided to mess with an unnatural core.”
“It wasn't that big of a deal,” Lucas brushed it off.
“Um? You weren’t handling it properly and—”
“Hey guys!” Mark jogged in out of breath. 
“And where were you?” Clarissa asked.
“Gym class.” 
“Well since we’re all here…Tour!” Clarissa led the way down the hallway. 
The three guided Robyn through Central High, filling her in on anecdotes and embarrassing gossip; like last year's nearly disastrous production of Singing in the Rain, the pranks pulled by the varsity football team on student council, and the time when a rival school kidnapped their mascot, Cornelius the Cardinal, and held him for “ransom”. 
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“That’s where we have anime club!” Clarissa pointed at a classroom, “you can join if you want!”
“Or Robotics. Thursdays and Fridays starting next week.” Mark added.
“Thanks, I’ll consider,” Robyn smiled, not wanting to turn them down yet.
“Did you do any clubs at your old school?” Mark asked.
“Academic olympiad and archery.” She pretended to draw and shoot a bow.
Mark, Clarissa, and Lucas awed.
“Of course your old school had an archery team,” Lucas remarked.
“Wait, where are you from anyway?” Mark raised another question as they headed up to the third floor.
Robyn hesitated at the top of the stairs. “Just another school in Union—”
“She went to Ravenwood,” Lucas killed the suspense.
Mark and Clarissa gasped.
Ravenwood Academy isn’t that different from Central High, right? The thought ran through her head. Her eyes pierced at Lucas when he passed her up the steps. He glanced back, shrugging a shoulder.
“Wait, I totally see it…” Clarissa wagged her finger when she connected the dots.
“Told ya, teacher’s pet—OW!” Clarissa nudged Lucas in his side.
“I mean, that’s a really good school,” Mark wondered, “Don’t mean to pry but how come you left?”
“Ah well.” 
The three raised their brows, eager for Robyn’s answer.
“I guess it just wasn’t for me. I mean, who wants to go to a school with a bunch of know-it-alls anyway,” Robyn laughed, “Plus I don’t have to wear a uniform anymore.”
The others giggled at her punches at Ravenwood.
“Then I’m glad I got to meet you, Robyn,” Clarissa said as they continued their tour down a third floor hallway. “I moved to Central when I was ten, so I understand what going to a new school is like.”
Robyn gave a sweet smile.
Lucas threw his gaze elsewhere—not sure what it was in him but he wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Though he’s only known Robyn for what? Four-ish hours? 
She didn’t feel ready to tell the truth yet. It weighed heavy on her heart but this is what she wanted.
They finally reach the science wing. Clarissa stepped in front of the rest, ready to end the tour. 
“And that’s our school!” She raised her arms in the air, “any questions?”
“Hmm…” Robyn pondered.
“Can we get some food, Clar? I’m staarrrvving,” Lucas’s stomach grumbled.
“Do we still have enough time for lunch?” Robyn asked.
“We can grab lunch during study hall, teachers don’t really take attendance for upperclassmen then,” Mark explained.
“First day usual?” Lucas posed.
“I’m up for it,” Mark agreed.
“What’s the first day usual?”
“Since middle school, we would go to Pelino’s Pizza and Deli after school and get a large box of the ultimate four cheeses with the works. Then go to the corner store on the same street and load up on a ton of snacks and drinks!” Clarissa eye’s eyes lit up talking about it.
“Not the fanciest, but it hits every time,” Lucas grinned.
His grin was whipped away as a shadow grew tall behind Clarissa. The others stood stunned by Its abrupt appearance, staring into its fiery red eyes as it slowly drew out its thick claws.
“And since we’re upperclassmen now, we can leave campus whe—”
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“CLARISSA!” Robyn gasped, jumping to grab her out of the way. They slide across the hallway, bumping into a wall of lockers.
SWOOSH! Its claws striked the ground.
“Holy crap!” Clarissa yelled while pinned to the floor. “What was that?”
The Unnatural stood up on its hind legs, its body was as thick as a black bear, and its fur was colored like cinnabar jasper. Two large fangs raised out from its bottom jaw and claws were as long as a sloth’s. Robyn felt a beat of sweat drip from her face. This encounter felt all too familiar but this time she knew what to do. Robyn rose on to one knee, her hands began to spark, materializing a glowing purple bow.
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“Whoa,” Clarissa was awestruck. 
She drew the string, conjuring an arrow just as brilliant as the bow. WOOSH! Robyn shot. It flew down the hallway towards the unnatural, hitting the wall just beside it.
“Gah?! I missed?!” Robyn cried.
However, she didn’t fail to get it’s attention. The unnatural turned towards the girls, stomping and lifting its claws. There was nowhere to run in time, they braced for impact. 
WAM! An azure beam shot the unnatural to the ground. 
The girls hurried up from the floor and Robyn looked around for where the shot came from. Lucas held a finger gun and blue steam wisped from the end of his index finger.
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“Oh my god!” Mark said, hiding behind Lucas, “Are you guys okay?”
Before they could answer, the unnatural stood up, escaping on all fours down the hallway.
“Damn it!” Lucas raced after it, “Mark, watch over them!” He yelled.
“Lucas, wait!” Robyn chased after them before Mark could stop her.
Robyn followed Lucas, staring carefully at the unnatural they’re pursuing. Then it clicked.
“Lucas!” Robyn caught up with him.
“Hey!” He was shocked to see her, “I thought you were staying back?”
“Lucas, look!” She pointed at the unnatural, “That’s what happens when you mess with a core!” She scolded him.
“....What?!!” 
The stopped at the top of a stairway as the unnatural stood its ground at the bottom.
“That’s a red core unnatural! That’s the one you took out of its stasis chamber!”
“What the hell are you talking about?! You saw me put it back!”
“Maybe you didn’t put it back right. I told you it’s dangerous!” Robyn argued. She drew her bow again, shooting and missing again. “Come on!” She yelled in frustration.
Lucas ran down the steps, this time hitting the unnatural with an energy fist. They locked in combat as the commotion began to draw a crowd. Robyn followed down to the second floor and watched as Lucas effortlessly fought against the unnatural. Even when he was hit he could brush it off. A punch, a kick, a shot—his grin was wide and eyes focused, like he was having a blast. As for Robyn, she could barely hit it with her arrows.
“Excuse me! Sorry!” She ran through the crowd of students, drawing her bow one more time. It hit! “Yes!” Robyn cheered.
The unnatural takes its attention from Lucas to Robyn.
“Oh no!”
It chased after her. 
She ran into a deadend and the unnatural continued to charge after her.
Perfect, Lucas thought.
“Robyn!” Lucas sprint behind the unnatural, “When I say ‘now’ shoot an arrow at its chest!”
Robyn gulped and drew her bow, closing one eye to aim. Lucas formed a finger gun and the index started to glow.
The unnatural rushed closer and closer and closer, then jumped into the air.
“Now!”
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Robyn shot her arrow and Lucas shot a beam, both striking the unnatural right in the middle. It fell to the ground and its form dissipated into a thick red smoke, leaving nothing but a glowing red core on the ground.
Robyn slid against the wall, dropping to in relief. Lucas walked over and helped her up. She brushed the dust out of her skirt as more people stepped into the hallway. Chatter among them grew louder and some even cheered.
“Nice,” Lucas smiled.
She smiled back.
Clarissa and Mark ran down the stairs, embracing both. 
“Holy cow!” Clarissa exclaimed, “are you guys okay?”
“Yeah,” despite nearly being attacked and missing almost all her shots, Robyn beamed. “We’re great!”
The principal came rushing down the hallway, hands over his head utterly flabbergasted. “WHAT IN GOD’S NAME?!”
Garbage, books, and papers were thrown everywhere, a broken fountain spat out water, and some lockers were dented and covered in claw marks. 
“Oops,” Lucas mumbled.
The hallway was a mess!
“Who is responsible for this!!??” The Principal's face was hot red.
A few in the crowd point at the culprits.
Lucas’s jaw dropped “ARE YA’LL SERIOUS??!”
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The final bell rang, Lucas and Robyn sat in an empty classroom. Robyn’s face was planted on the desk while Lucas sat with his head perched on his shoulder bored.
“First time in detention?” Lucas asked.
“Noo,” Robyn sulked, lifting her head, “But it's my first time having two entire weeks of detention!” She planted her face back on the desk. “Thanks for asking.”
“Finke has a stick up his geriatric ass. He’s always looking for someone to punish,” Lucas tried to reassure her. 
She didn’t respond.
“Um, sorry about that”
“About what?”
“The unnatural…but I swore I put the core back.”
“It’s fine,” Robyn lifted her head back up, “I wonder how it could’ve gotten out…” She took a small journal from her backpack, scribbling thoughts onto a page.
“Hell of a first day, huh?” he sat back, resting the back of his head against his hands.
“Gee, you telling me,” she agreed, “I thought getting through my first day was going to be easy but now I’m sitting in after school detention with nine more waiting for me because an unnatural somehow attacked the school! Now I’m gonna be late to my internship which I don't even know is gonna happen because I haven’t gotten my project approved because nobody wants to join!” She vented out her frustrations.
“What's the project,” Lucas asked.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not going to get approved anyway.”
“Lemme hear it.”
Robyn sighed, “I wanted to do case studies of unnaturals living and appearing around Central on a personal level—and help out if they're causing trouble, sorta like today. If you think you put it back then how did it appear in the school? Was it from a fracture?” She came to a sad pause. “I’m the only high schooler and none of the other interns wanted to join. Plus I can barely use my powers well. How am I going to help anyone, let alone myself?” Robyn sunk in her desk.
“Could I join?”
“Wait…what?” Robyn perked up.
“You have a cool power. Your bow.” Lucas complimented. “Didn’t expect you to be a poten.”
“I didn’t expect you either—”
“But,” Lucas continued, “Monsters aren’t sitting targets. Your technique is too hesitant, that’s why you missed so much.”
“Oh! Uhhhh.”
“And if you’re standing there to load up your shots, you’re easy prey.”
 “Hm…” Robyn thinks for a moment, wondering how much he was paying at attention to her during the fight. He seemed too focused; like he was in his own world.
“So I figured, your project is gonna be like this, you’re gonna need someone who knows their way around a fight.” Lucas shrugged, “Maybe help you to learn your abilities.” He tried to come off as nonchalant, but his interest was genuine.
Robyn wondered, “I don’t know if the director would allow it since you're not an intern and all.”
“C’mon,” Lucas insisted, “If I teach you, you teach me. I think we can work something out.”
Robyn beamed, remembering how his face looked when he was fighting the unnatural. That was his element.
“Okay,” She agreed, “Then let's go after school tomorrow! I can’t wait for you to see the lab and meet the director! It’s going to be so cool!”
They chatted through the rest of detention. One person was one step closer. Despite all that happened today, more was awaiting them.
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Ms. Ellie opened the door to the science department storage. Holding the core in her hand, she placed the core back in its chamber, locking it tightly. 
“Gosh, how troublesome.” She placed the chamber back in the cabinet with the others. “I’m just glad that nobody was hurt,” She sighed in relief. She closed the cabinet, locking it securely with a padlock. Ms. Ellie walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Unknown to her, another stasis chamber sat hidden behind the shelf of extra books and equipment, unlocked and empty.
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whoreforharleezy03 · 2 years
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Jack imahine suggestion : maybe him and the reader have been together since they were teenagers. reader sees pictures and news websites of him and Dua Lipa and they fight cause he never told the reader what they were doing. starts with angst ends in fluff maybe? Love your writing x
Love thissss🫶🏻🫶🏻 thank you so much I hope this is okay🫶🏻
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It was raining outide, you were cuddled up In your favourite cozy blanket scrolling on Tiktok. The TV was on but you stopped paying attention to it an hour ago. As you scrolled through video after video, you stumbled upon a familiar face. An influencer you had been following for a while, she was known for always spilling the biggest celebrity drama and gossip. But this time, your boyfriends name appeared on the screen.
“Okay so everyone has been asking and we want to know, are Dua Lipa and Jack Harlow dating.”
Your heart skipped a beat. What? What the fuck? Dating?
You had often seen rumours about girls dating Jack but it was nothing like this, this was way more of a problem.
When Jack made the song Dua Lipa, he told you he was joking. Of course you didn’t find it funny, but you also didn’t quite always understand his humour, so you let that slide.
Deciding to look more into it, you decided to search on ‘the most reliable source’ google.
‘Jack Harlow and dua lipa dating?’
Over a hundred articles came up, again and again and again.
All the same.
‘Dua lipa and Jack Harlow reportedly dating!’
‘Did Jack Harlow manifest dating Dua lipa with his song?’
‘Jack Harlow’s new girlfriend?’
This cut deep. New girlfriend? YOU were his girlfriend.
You and Jack had been dating since you were fifteen, you’ve been there for him for almost all of his rap career, and this is what happens.
To be fair, you kind of expected something like this would happen when you guys decided you were going to be private, you had to accept that this is the part of that. But this just didn’t sit right with you.
You hadn’t realised that you had been crying until you accidentally opened the camera app showing the mascara running down your face.
“Okay, Y/n, don’t think about this too much, just take a nap then everything will be good again.” You told yourself.
-
“Ma, I’m home!”
Jack put his keys on the table as he took off his jacket. His entrance startled you causing you to wake up.
“Y/n, where are you?”
You sighed, not really wanting him to see you right now.
“In the living room.”
Jack walked over to the kitchen, looking at his phone the whole time.
“What do you want for dinner?” He asked you still not noticing you.
Your eyes started tearing again, no wait, you started to full on cry. Jack heard your sniffs and finally looked up from his phone. He stood there, not really knowing what happened or what he did.
“Y/n? Are you okay?? Did something happen?”
You had to confront him about this.
“Jack, I won’t get mad, I just need an honest answer from you, okay?”
Jack was beginning to be nervous, he sat down as he shook his head yes.
“Are you cheating on me?”
He froze. Where did you get that from? How dare you say that?
“What are you talking about, Y/n?”
“Dua Lipa.” Was the only thing you said and Jack knew exactly why you were mad.
“You don’t actually believe that bullshit? Do you?”
“Well it’s hard not to when you made a ass whole fucking song about her, and then flirted with her at that lunch thing you had, have you realised that you haven’t even made one song about your actual girlfriend who you’ve been with for nine fucking years!” You were practically yelling at this point.
“I’ve never made one song about you? Never made one fucking song about you, Y/n, I have made so many goddamn songs about you!”
“Name one.” You blood was boiling, not only was he flirting with a girl he said that ‘ he want to do more with her than do a feature ‘ but also he was lying.
“Y/n, I don’t even know why we’re arguing about this right now.”
“Because you’re cheating!”
Now Jack was angry, he was being accused of something that he didn’t do.
“Y/n, it might look bad on social media and shit, but I can reassure you that I am not cheating on you.”
You didn’t know if you should believe him or not, he looked like he was telling the truth and you trust him but… Were you maybe jealous? Were you insecure? No, it just all felt so real. Jack was your first everything so even though you were 24, this was a first.
“I’m sorry, Jack.”
Now Jack felt bad, it wasn’t your fault that news reporters and paparazzi were pushing those thoughts in your head.
“No, Y/n I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.”
You smiled, you trusted him. If he said he wasn’t cheating, you should believe him.
“Want to cuddle and watch the office?” You asked him.
“Would love nothing more.”
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sommerflue-22 · 1 year
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SWIPE RIGHT | Armin Arlert x Reader
Part 1
One swipe to the right and you found yourself going on dates with Armin Arlert, loving how he treated you right. Who could possibly resist such a gentle and compassionate man? It's only a matter of time before he officially asked you to be his girlfriend...
Pairing(s): Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader
Warning: -
Word count: 2.3k
Author Note
Hi, guys! Some of you might have read this AU before on Tumblr. Apparently it was posted on my secondary blog? Which means I cannot interact with the comment and such, that's a bummer T^T So I took the post down and republished it here. I hope you enjoy the story and stay tuned for the next part! :3
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It all started with a quick swipe to the right in your phone. He was one of the few people you swiped right on in that damn yellow dating app. You wouldn’t have downloaded the app in the first place if Sasha hadn’t told you to. After your messy break up with your last ex almost two years ago, you didn’t feel like finding someone else to date. However, once you came across the name “Armin”, you couldn’t help but swipe right. You scrolled down to read his profile. He appeared to be normal, almost too normal. You lost count of how many cringe-worthy men you’ve encountered there. Seeing his profile gave you a new hope that there were still men out there who were okay. 
Lucky for you, Armin also swiped right. The chat was wonderful; you two had a lot in common. You found out that Armin was pursuing his master degree in Political Science at one of the most prestigious universities in your country. Fine art and literature were a few of his interests. A week after you both matched on the app, Armin began calling you. At first he only called for a maximum of ten to fifteen minutes, during which you both exchanged stories about your days. A month later, you received an unexpected text from him.
Would you like to meet up next Thursday?
“Say yes!” Sasha, who was with you at the time the notification popped up, squealed. “Ooh! Say yes, (Y/N)! So far he’s nice, right?”
“He’s a stranger, though.”
“You guys call each other almost every night; at this point he’s not a stranger. Not really.”
You left the text unanswered for several hours. After Sasha had left your apartment, you finally opened it and typed:
Sure. Just name the time and place :)
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
The days went by incredibly quickly. It was Thursday night, and you were standing outside your apartment building. Armin said he would pick you up at seven. You knew he was taking you to dinner, but you had no idea where. So, you dressed rather casually. Just a simple polo shirt, a tennis skirt, and some sneakers. Sasha urged you to dress more formally, but you refused. You didn’t really want to overdo it on your first date.
“But isn’t it a date?” Sasha motioned for you to put on one of her blazers and pants. “Come on, I bet Armin’s taking you somewhere fancy. He looks like some Mister Fancypants.”
“I don’t know, this might not be a date. I’ll just be out with a friend. A new friend.”
“Yeah, friend,” Sasha scoffed, rolling her eyes.
A pair of bright headlights appeared from a nearby crossroad, followed by a black convertible. You weren’t sure if it was Armin’s car, but it pulled over in front of your apartment. The front window rolled down and you saw Armin for the first time. 
Armin smiled and quickly exited his car. You noticed he was around four inches taller than you and wore his blond hair in a long undercut with bangs. He’s dressed simply in a  white button-up shirt with two of the top buttons undone.
“(Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you!” Armin walked up to you with his arms open.
You weren’t quite sure of what to do. Was he expecting you to hug him? You had no idea! You decided to wait until he was a few inches away from you before leaning in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his back. The scent of his cologne, a light earthy scent, filled your nostrils. 
“Hello, Armin. How was the drive here?”
“Ah, I took a few wrong turns, but here I am!” Armin drew back, but his hand was still on your upper arm. “Are you ready for dinner?”
You smiled and nodded. He opened the door for you, muttering ‘be careful’ as you slid into the passenger seat, before going around the car and got behind the steering wheel. He even helped you fasten your seat belt, which made your heart flutters a little. After ensuring that you’re comfortable in your seat, the car swerved and you were both on your way to the restaurant. 
Neither you nor Armin talked much along the way. You weren’t really a talkative person and neither was Armin. Besides, there was music playing from the stereo. He offered you to play your own music but you told him it’s okay. You liked seeing him enjoy his playlist, which mostly consisted of 50s or 60s music. 
It took nearly twenty minutes to get uptown. You went there every day because you worked in one of the stores, but you always left right after work. You had no clue what it looked like at night and you were mesmerized. Your gaze wandered out the window, as if soaking in every single detail of the buildings and lights. Before you could take in your surroundings any further, the car turned into the lobby of a restaurant, and you regretted Sasha’s suggestion to wear a blazer. The restaurant appeared to be quite fancy from the outside. You really felt out of place. Running away sounded like a good idea.
Before you could plan your escape, Armin had already stopped the car and handed the keys to the valet. He walked around the vehicle to open your door and held out his hand to you.
“Are you feeling alright, (Y/N)?” His smile faded, replaced by a concerned expression.
“I’m fine.” You tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace. You took his hand and got out of the car.
As if he could read your mind, Armin wrapped his hand around your waist, pulled you closer, and guided you to the entrance of the place. “You look lovely, (Y/N).” He spoke in hushed tones. 
You felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Fortunately, Armin handled all of the talking with the servers. Apparently he reserved a private dining room for the two of you. As you both walked to the room, you couldn’t help but admire the interior design of the place. Dim lighting, dark walls with a few windows looking out onto the outdoor area, rows and rows of wine bottles behind the bar, jazz music playing in the background, and minimalist yet expensive-looking dining tables. 
The ambiance continued in the private room. Armin drew the chair for you before sitting across from it. The server handed the menu. It was quite expensive, for sure. Everything on the menu looked delicious but intimidating. You ended up ordering the crusted salmon with broccolini, while Armin chose the veal milanese. Armin also ordered some appetizers, desserts, and two mocktails for both of you. 
After the server left, you turned to face Armin. “If you had told me where we were going I would have dressed more appropriately.”
“Why? What’s the matter with your outfit? I think it is perfectly fine.”
“Other women out there are dressed in blazers and dresses.”
“True, but none of them are as lovely as you.”
You could tell Armin was a smooth talker from the way he texted you. Meeting the man in person, on the other hand, was a whole new experience for you.
While waiting for your meals to be served, you had an interesting conversation with Armin about things he studied in his master’s program and what you do for work as a freelance virtual assistant and a marketing manager. The conversation continued even after the meals were served, all the way until you were both enjoying your desserts.
You discovered that Armin was well off and came from a wealthy family. While finishing his master’s degree, he was working as a market research analyst for one of his family’s businesses. He studied abroad in his final year of undergraduate school, eventually graduating with double degrees. You were starting to realize that outside the dating app, Armin is so out of your league. However, you didn’t sense even a slight of arrogance in Armin’s demeanor. He listened to your stories and asked questions, showing you that he was paying attention to what you were saying.
After finishing your desserts, you both left the restaurant. Of course, Armin paid for everything and wrapped his hand around your waist again on your way out. He didn’t let go until the valet returned his car, and he opened the door for you again. When the car was back on the street, the feeling of uneasiness dissipated and you leaned your head against the window.
“You don’t have a curfew, do you?” Armin asked, his eyes fixed on the road.
“Nah, but my best friend might call to check up on me.” 
“Fantastic. Fancy for a night ride?”
You turned your head so fast and nodded excitedly. You always loved a night ride. You used to have a lot of fun with Sasha and your other best friend, Connie. Unfortunately, due to his job Connie was transferred to another city. He was the one who had a driver’s license. So neither you nor Sasha could go on night rides anymore.
Armin’s car sped through the streets before merging onto a highway.
“I hope you’re not feeling sick.” Armin pushed a button and the hardtop of the car was retracted. You let out a gasp.
“I love it.” You raised one of your hands up, feeling the summer breeze against your skin. “Summer nights are the best time to go for a night ride, you know? I used to do this a lot with my friends… Just, not in a convertible.”
“I agree.” Armin gave a nod.
The highway came to an end and you were hugging yourself. Apparently, the wind was too cold and you didn’t realize it until your fingertips froze. The car came to a halt before a red light.
“(Y/N), here. Have my jacket.” Armin reached back into the backseat for his jacket and handed it to you. “Do you want me to pull back the hardtop?”
“No, no! It’s fine, Armin. I’m just a little cold.”
Armin carefully put the jacket around your shoulders and grabbed your hands, taking them in his own hands and rubbing them to keep you warm. The light turned green. Armin focused back to the road, but he kept your hand in one of his while the other gripped the steering wheel.
Again, neither of you talked a lot during the ride, though you could feel his glances on you a few times. Around 10.30 PM, Armin drove you back to your apartment. You didn’t want the evening to end, but you knew you had to go home. Especially since you had to work the following day. 
Armin parked in a parking lot near your apartment building. He helped you out, and walked you home. He moved his hand from holding your hand, to wrapping it around your shoulder, making sure his jacket didn’t slip off. 
You stopped at the entrance. “You wanna drop by?”
“Only if you insist.”
You brought him inside, entered the elevator, and were soon on your floor. Armin trailed close behind you. You knew Sasha would freak out if she found out. As much as she encouraged you to go on dates, you knew she wouldn’t approve of you inviting a stranger into your apartment.
Armin is not just some random stranger, you thought to yourself.
You finally arrived in front of your unit and searched your bag for the keys.
“Now, before you come in, I must warn you that my place is not the tidiest⁠—”
“(Y/N), thank you for the invitation, but I’m only here to make sure you reach your apartment safely.”
You turned around, stunned, and stared at him. “I see…” You felt so foolish for inviting him in.
“Don’t get me wrong, (Y/N). I just don’t think it’s a good idea. After all, this is only our first date. I will gladly stop by and have an even more pleasant conversation with you on our next date.”
“...This is a date? This is not just a friendly outing?”
“Of course.”
“And now you’re asking me out for a second date?”
“Indeed. I had a great time with you, (Y/N). I would love to go on another date with you, and another one, and then another. That is, if you are up to it.”
“Of course. Yeah, sure. I would like to. I would love to.” You nodded, internally cursing yourself for your pathetic response. You couldn’t help yourself. Something about the way Armin spoke made your stomach flutters and your brain turned into a useless, gooey mush.
“Wonderful! (Y/N)...” Armin seemed like he was about to say something.
“Yes?” You tilted your head, trying to encourage him to speak up.
“I’m sorry if this is rude and disrespectful but… may I kiss you?”
“You… what?”
“I’m so sorry, it’s just… I thought you’re very pretty and cute, and I wanted to kiss you all evening but⁠—”
You quickly stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. Armin stopped speaking and stared into your eyes for what felt like an eternity. The next thing you knew, his hand was on your cheek and he was kissing your lips. The moment your lips touched, tons of fireworks exploded inside you. It was a brief, innocent kiss, but it felt endless.
You hated when Armin pulled away, but the fireworks erupted again as he pecked the top of your head.
“Thank you for today, (Y/N).” Armin stroked your cheek, “Now get some rest. I’ll text you first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Okay.” You simply nodded. Armin must have noticed how red your face was because after you answered he just chuckled and returned to the elevator.
Once Armin was out of sight, you dashed into your apartment and slammed the door shut. You didn’t give much thought to what happened as you cleaned up. However, once you were in bed, you found yourself tossing and turning, unable to sleep. You couldn’t think of anything other than Armin and the evening you spent with him.
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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and stay tuned for the next part!
This fic is also available on Ao3
Read Part 2
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Koushiro Week 2022 - Day 7: Free Day
Days: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Title: Overcoming Characters: Koushiro Izumi, Jou Kido, Tentomon and Akemi Murakami (OC). Summary: Koushiro is nervous about his first date with Akemi and turns to Jou for support. Koushiro didn’t know how long he had spent sitting on his bed. The clock kept tickling, but he still wasn’t able to move an inch. He knew he would be late and it was the last thing he wanted, but his nervousness and fear were paralyzing him. Somehow he found the strength to pick up his phone and tried to call Sora, but she didn’t pick up. So he kept scrolling down his contact list and pressed the call button as soon as he came across his second choice. “Hello?” “Hey, Jou. It’s me.” “Is everything alright?” “Yes, yes, it is. At least, I think so.” Koushiro took a deep breath. “Actually, no, it’s not.” “What happened, Koushiro?” “I’m freaking out.” “Why? What’s wrong?” “I have a date and don’t know what to do or to say.” “Okay, take a deep breath. It’s not the end of the world. You can do this.” “What am I supposed to do?” He asked desperately. “Is it a rule to kiss a girl on the first date? Should I pay for her?” “The kissing part depends on how the date goes.” “And how do I know that?” “If you two are having fun; if you can talk to each other almost all the time. These are two of the things that indicate the date is going well. Then a kiss can happen at some point.” “I should just cancel it.” Koushiro ruffled his red hair roughly. “It’s better for everyone.” “How much do you like this girl?” “What?” “How much do you like this girl?” Jou repeated. “And does she like you too?” “I suppose so. We kind of asked each other out together, so that must mean something. Right?” “Usually, yes. How would you feel if she canceled it with you?” “I would be upset, probably.” “So you have your answer.” “How do you know so much about this?” “Actually, I’ve recently started dating.” “What?” Koushiro asked surprised. “You’re dating? Is it someone from the hospital?” “Yes, she’s a pediatrician. We met when we were doing rounds during med school. But I’ll tell you about her another time. What about you?” “We met in college. She’s a friend of one of my classmates. We got along right away and walk home together everyday.” “Interesting. And tell me… do you miss it when you don’t go home together?” “Yes…” He confessed. “I do. Does that mean I’m in love with her?” “That’s something you’ll figure out on your own. But you do have feelings for her, though you’ve realized it by now.” “Yeah… what do I do, Jou?” “You go out with her and see what happens. The best thing it can happen is you end up with a girlfriend.” “And the worst one?” “You realize you two are better of as friends, which is totally fine by the way.” “I guess so.” “I guarantee you’ll enjoy it. It’s almost like going out with a friend, like how you and Mimi did a few years ago.” “Okay, I can do that.” Koushiro looked at his watch. “I have to go, or I’ll be late.” “Alright. Good luck.” “Thank you.”
About fifteen minutes later, Koushiro was standing in front of the bathroom mirror taking a final look at himself after he fixed his tie. Then he returned to his bedroom and grabbed his two favorite colognes. “Tentomon, can you help me with something?” “Sure.” The Digimon landed beside him. “What do you need?” “Which one do you think it’s better?” He sprayed the perfumes on his partner and he immediately started sneezing. “Oh my God, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were allergic to perfume.” “The smell is very strong.” “I think so too. I’m very sorry about this.” “Don’t worry about it.” Tentomon said tearful. “I get so emotional seeing you getting ready to go out on a date. I’ve been waiting for this moment so long.” “Oh no, don’t cry, Tentomon. It’s not a big deal, really.” “To me, it is. I’m so happy!” “Silly.” Koushiro couldn’t help but laugh. “So which one?” “The second one, for sure. Where did you get it?” “That’s my favorite one too. Takeru gave me for my birthday last year. I didn’t enjoy the scent back then, but now I think it’s not so bad.” He sprayed some of the cologne on himself and turned to Tentomon. “So, how do I look?” “You look great, Koushiro!” “Do you think it’s too formal? Maybe I should take my tie off.” “Maybe a little, but if you’re comfortable about it, that’s what matters.” “I am, but I want to try something more casual.” “Like leave the top button open like Taichi does sometimes?” “That’s a little too much for me.” The man laughed and removed his tie. “What do you think?” “Definitely without tie.” “I think so too. It’s settled then.” Koushiro put it back on a hanger and put it away. “Are you ready?” “Can’t I really go with you? I promise I’ll stay outside and won’t bother you.” “It’s safer if you stay with Jou while I’m out. I promise I will pick you up when the date is over.” “Okay.” “Come on, it will be fun with him and Gomamon.” “I know, I just really wanted to meet your girlfriend.” “She’s not my girlfriend, Tentomon.” “But she will be.” “You’ll get to meet her soon, I promise. Let’s go, I’m already late to meet her.” “Alright.” Tentomon followed his partner closely out of their apartment and then to the garage.
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Imagine Valentina sending Yelena to kill you Natasha's former protégé
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A Few Hours Before Time Travel
"Here I want you to have this" Natasha said tossing something in your direction.
You were scrolling absentmindedly through your phone watching old news videos to take your mind. Off of everything that was going on barely paying attention to what she was saying. So instead of catching the item it hit you right in the face making you jump up and drop your phone on the table.
"Hey a heads up would've been nice Nat" you sputtered grasping the soft clothing item, and pulling it off your face. It was nice forest green vest mixed with some black and a lot of pockets. While vests weren't usually part of her outfit for fighting. This one you recognized from the first battle with Thanos, and you didn't think anything of it then. But that was a pretty rough battle and if she managed to not only hold onto it, but also made sure to repair any damages it sustained. Then the vest had to be special to her, and now that peaked your curiosity.
"I did give you one you were too busy playing on your phone" She shot back with a playful smile.
"Well its not like I have a big mission to prepare for or anything. Because you won't let me go time traveling with the rest of the Avengers, or did you forget?"
Natasha let out a sigh as a small frown took over her face.
This was an argument the two of you had multiple times in the past couple of days. Since Tony returned to the Compound and agreed to help figure out how to conquer the Quantum Realm, and when Clint was able to travel back in time successfully. The argument only got worse and the only thing that made you back down was when Tony and Steve stood by Natasha on her decision. There was no way you were going to be able to sneak your way onto the mission with all three of them watching you so closely.
You stood up ready to walk away not wanting to hear her excuses for excluding you again. On your way out you tossed the vest in the chair. You didn't even make it five steps before she reached you grabbing your shoulder, and swinging you around. Her other hand taking your chin in a gentle but firm hold. In order to prevent you from turning your head away.
"Y/N I know you're still upset and nothing is going to change that, but this isn't your fight-"
You cut her off at that with a fury in your eyes. "How is it not my fight I was there seven years ago. When he snapped his fingers and wiped out half of the population. I lost Peter he was my only real friend that knew what all of this was like."
"You shouldn't have been there in the first place neither of you should've been there. Why do you think Tony agreed with me? Gosh y/n it's a miracle Thanos didn't get you too." Natasha told you her eyes tearing up at the end. Her hand released your chin to caress your cheek, and then her other hand came up to graze the other one. "You're the only family I have left y/n, and just the thought of you not making it kills me inside. I need you to stay here and stay safe. There will be other wars for you to fight y/n and one day I won't be here to stop you. So please for now let me do this."
All you could was nod and wrap your arms around her in a tight hug. She returned it without hesitation kissing the top of your head. For a while the two of you just stayed like that. Until Steve announced on the intercom it was almost time for the mission, and to meet him in the main hall in about fifteen minutes.
Natasha pulled away to grab the vest out of the chair, and unzipped it before holding it out for your arms. You slipped them in letting her put it on.
"See a perfect fit like I said before I want you to have this. It means a lot to me and if I don't come back it's yours."
"Nat don't talk like that you're going to be fine but yeah I'll keep it safe for you. I'll never take it off until it's time to return it to its rightful owner." You promised fake saluting her
"Well if everything go as planned you'll be meeting her in a day or so." she said giving you a wink.
You raised an eyebrow trying to figure out what she meant by that, but she tugging on your arm demanding that you escort her to the platform. You figured it was a question that would be answered later.
Late never came and even though you never found out who the original owner was. You kept your promise to hold onto the vest for her never letting it out of your sight, and keeping it in perfect condition.
Present Day
"Rhodey are you sure this is legal?" You whispered crawling through the air ducts to a government owned building.
"No probably not but it's the only way to know if the intel Sam got from those terrorist is good or not" he replied back.
"We're Avengers why not just ask them?"
"Y/N since when is government ever honest with anyone about anything" Rhodey pointed out.
"Okay I get it but still if I get caught you guys better break me out the way Rogers did for them." You warned coming to a stop peeking through the cracks to make sure it was the right room.
"Oh please you were trained by the best" was the last thing he said. Before the comms were cut and you went dark. Just in case the security system was trying to pick up on the radio frequency.
You dropped down into the room landing in a crouch. The lights were off and the room was windowless which meant total darkness.
"Oh no not another poser" an unfamiliar voice said from somewhere in the shadows of the room.
You stood up looking around hoping whoever it was would make some sort of movement. Giving you an idea where they were, but whoever it was stayed very still. "Come on you got to admit the landing was pretty clean."
The stranger took the bait. "Yeah but was it really necessary, or do you just like showing off?"
It sounded the person was on your right. You pulled a throwing knife from the holster on your thigh. With a flick of your wrist the knife went flying in that direction. Your ears were able to pick up on some minimal moving and a thunk sound. The knife had struck the wall instead meaning your enemy moved.
"Not bad you might actually make this a bit entertaining for me" The person said with a small chuckle.
"Please walk away now and I won't bruise your ego too bad." You shot back circling the room when they started moving again.
"You sound pretty confident for someone who can't even see." The person was so close to now they had practically whispered in your ear.
You felt their breath on your neck but it was too late a blow to the jaw snapped your head to the side, and then a blow to the gut had you on your knees. You heard a small whistling sound and dropped back onto the floor rolling away. Hoping there was enough distance between you and her. It had to be a woman from her voice, and maybe it was the way she moved. You got back too your feet and raised your arms ready to block any attack.
"And you're pretty confident for a cheater." You countered closing your eyes to focus extra hard on the any sudden sounds.
She snorted "please there is no such thing as a fair fight in this world today. How do I know you don't have powers?"
"Don't you think I would've used them by now." Your ears strained to hear anything and finally there was a small squealing sound. You went low and threw your leg out in a sweeping motion. Your move landed because a second later there was a thud and a grunt of pain.
"What was that about me being at a disadvantage" You taunted.
"Oh now you're dead" were her last words and then she was back on her feet and on you in under five seconds. This time she didn't care if you could hear or feel her coming. She definitely had on some night vision goggles or something. Because for every hit you managed to block, she would immediately follow it up with one you didn't see coming. Which in the long run meant you were taking a freaking beating with only maybe one or two of your hits landing. She had no problem brushing them off refusing to give you an inch in this fight. A harsh kick to the gut knocked you off your feet and back into a door. Your back collided with the doorknob making you cry out in pain.
The vest you had on did somehow absorb some of the blow. Thank heavens for that or you might be down for the count, but it didn't seem like it really mattered. A clicking sound filled the darkness letting you know she had pulled a gun.
"Okay this was fun but I have other contracts to fulfill, and its obvious you're no match for me. You know usually I wouldn't do this but any last words?" She asked
You gave her a small nod eyes drifting up slowly. Right now the only thing you cared about was getting out alive. "How does it feel with the lights on?" In a last act of desperation you scrambled for the wall feeling around for a light switch. Maybe your question caught her off the guard, or maybe she just wanted to see what your plan was. Either way your hand was able to find the switch and flip it on. The room was thrown into light revealing your assailant who was dressed in all black including a black mask. She let out a cry of pain and shook her head dropping the gun. Her hands grasped desperately at the mask to pull it off.
You took the opportunity to stumble too your feet and yank the door open. But before you could even take one step towards freedom a hand grabbed the back of your suit. She pulled you back sticking out a leg causing to trip and fall backwards. You tried to get back up but a knee planted in your stomach kept your body pinned.
"Neat trick but this is over and even though I should-" Her voice trailed off as she loomed over you gun pointed at your head. Her eyes squinted as she observed something about you.
This finally gave you a chance to get a good look at your opponent. She was a pretty blonde with her hair braided back in the same style as yours, and green eyes. The look on her face was pretty relaxed even in the heat of the battle, but the longer she stared at you. The more distressed she seemed to become.
"Um are you just going to stare at me or..." You left the question hanging in the air. When she moved the gun away from your head placing it on the floor. One of her hands reached out to take a fistful of the vest.
"Where did you get this?" She asked her voice barely a whisper.
"My mentor gave it to me and I've been keeping it safe for her. Just until I can find the original owner" You answered. Not really knowing why you were telling the whole story. Maybe it was the way she was looking at it like she was seeing a ghost.
"Who was your mentor?"
"Natasha Romanoff you know the Black Widow" You told her. The next thing you knew her knee was gone from your chest, and she had pulled you to your feet.
"You knew my sister" she choked out.
In that moment it was like a distant memory was unlocked as you thought back to a picture. You found on Nat's nightstand when you were cleaning out her room in the Compound. It was her with the blonde girl standing in front of you right now. On the back of the picture was a single name. Your name felt around on the vest until you found the right pocket. She had released you by now giving you enough space, and waiting patiently to see what you were doing.
Eventually you did find the right pocket and dug the contents of it out. A necklace with an arrow charm and a crumpled picture but when it was straightened out. It was shown to be the same picture from the night stand.
You flipped it around to the back. "Are you Yelena?" I think I've been looking for you."
Yelena let out a sob reaching out for the picture her hand hovered over it for a second. Until you gave too her and went to remove the vest.
Yelena held up a hand "no you can keep it I'm sorry I didn't know who you were. Natasha never mentioned having a student or anything."
You shook your head shrugging out of the vest. "I promised her I would return it so let me do it please. Its okay I think she intended on introducing us to each other after saving the world."
Yelena clutched the vest to her chest with tears falling from her eyes. You were doing your best to not to fall apart with her but the memory of Natasha was back now and in full effect. Without a word Yelena pulled you into her embrace allowing you to bury your face in your shoulder and sob.
"Its okay sestra I'll protect you now" she said.
"No we'll protect each other" you insisted.
"I don't know you might need some more training before you can protect me" she joked with a teary laugh.
"I was holding back"
"Sure"
Taglist: @danveration @yelenabelovasgf @xxromanoffxx @romanoffomixam @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mellowladyangel @lizlil @meimei-a @natashasilverfox
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thebiggestfan1 · 3 years
Text
Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 1)
part two here
part three here
word count: 1860 words
TW: language, angst (?)
let me know if you want part two, I’m somehow still not sure
...
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It was so hot that day. The movers were already gone, the place feeling empty without all the furniture. In a few hours, you'd be long gone, flying far away from Chesterfield.
Some small part of you felt sorry for selling your parents' house - the house you spent your whole childhood living in. But they moved out a few years ago and told you many times they didn't mind at all selling it.
Wiping the sweat off of your eyebrows you made your way through the blooming garden, trying to memorize every little detail. You remembered climbing this tree, you remembered the hole in the fence you made so the neighbour's dog could come play with you, you remembered the time capsule you and Matt buried here when you were fifteen.
Until now, you completely forgot about that. Even though you two didn't talk after he got drafted, it'd be a good idea to meet again since you might never see him again. You might be moving to Calgary but that city was so big it'd be a miracle to meet Matthew somewhere.
So you scrolled through your phone, praying he didn't change his number after all those years as you dialed it.
The phone rang twice before someone picked it up.
"Yes?"
Matthew's voice was so different since the last time you talked.
"Hey Matt, this is Y/N, I'm moving out today and I thought we could dig up the time capsule we buried at my place as kids before I leave. Are you in town?" It was off-season so you might get lucky.
"You are moving out already? But yeah, I can meet you in an hour if you have the time."
"Yes, I'll still be here, don't worry."
"Okay..." There was a moment of awkward silence, neither of you knew how to break it. Was it a bad idea? Of course you wouldn't be as good friends as you once were. But you didn't know it would be this... weird. He didn't say goodbye back when he left to Calgary and didn't answer to any of your calls or messages. What were you thinking? That he wanted to see you?
"So, where are you moving to?" Matt finally continued, making the conversation more bareable.
"Calgary, they offered me an amazing job there."
"Really? I've been there for a few years."
"I heard." Not from you, was what you didn't say. It seemed like he'd heard it nonetheless.
Silence. You hated how distant you've grown - once, a long time ago, you were best friends. You went together to kindergarden and since then you've been the best of best friends. But even after all you went through, you didn't know what to say.
"Nevermind, I have to get going. I'll be at your place at three, okay?"
"Okay. I'll meet you there."
As you hung up, sadness enveloped you. Maybe you shouldn't have called. Maybe it'd be better to never meet Matt again, to remember only the good old times.
But he might be already on his way and you wanted to say a proper goodbye before going far, far away.
You loved him once, you recalled. It broke your heart when he left without looking back.
It irritated you that you couldn't do the same as easily.
...
"Y/N?" a now familiar voice called, the sound of closing car doors echoing through the silent street.
Matt looked same as he did four years ago and still totally different. It was like staring at a stranger you could swear you've already seen before. The curly, those pretty grey-blue eyes and the crooked smile you remembered and thought about too often. He got taller and more mascular over the time he played hockey professionally.
"Hey," you said nervously, tucking your slightly trembling hands into the pockets of your shorts.
Again, that uncomfortable silence took place.
"How long is it?" Since you've last seen each other. Since he'd ignored your calls and messages. Since he'd left you crying as he left this town - as he left you.
"Five years," you said.
Regret flashed in those pretty eyes as he took you in. Did you look to him the same as you did the last time he saw you?
"I'm sorry I didn't call." That was it? After five fucking years of silence, this was his apology for everything. This was a mistake. You didn't think it through when you called him today. Just now you started remembering all the things he's done to you.
"That doesn't make it hurt less, does it?" You whipped around, going to the line of fruit trees where you left the two shovels you borrowed from the neighbour.
Matt's hand slightly gripped your elbow, stopping you in your tracks.
"I know that I made a bunch of wrong decisions before I left."
"I've been trying for 6 months to reach you before giving up completely. And you? You've been living the best version of your life anyone could ever imagine."
"That's not true and you know it." Matthew said and you wanted to leave right then, forget this stupid meeting.
"I do not." you hissed, trying to calm down your rising temper.
Matt sighed, not wanting to argue over this. So he made his way to the tree line, picked one shovel from the ground and started digging where he remembered the time capsule was.
You didn't help him dig it up. You were too lost in memories, clinging to the past as you thought of younger version of Matt.
The clang of metal on metal attracted your attention back to him. He grunted as he pulled up the metal box and laid it on the grass.
You ducked low next to him, dusting off the dirt of the box. It was an old, weirdly dented thing.  Your eyes laid on the lock and you nearly sighed in annoyance just when Matt grabbed at his necklace, the key dangling from it. When you two buried the capsule, each of you got a key made for it. You had yours somewhere in the boxes that had already been shipped to your new apartment and Matt's... he didn't forget. He kept it through the years, guarding it and not losing it as you expected.
You didn't say anything, just patiently waited for him to open the box.
There was a letter inside, along with a bunch of things you thought of as long forgotten. Your bracelets of friendship, the colors faded already; a puck with which you and Matthew played your first hockey game together when you were six; so many polaroid photos with your faces on them; USB with a playlist you two always danced to.
Your eyes watered - how were you supposed to say goodbye to all of this?
Silently, you looked over all of the photos - you and Matt in the rink with small hockey sticks and skates, you and Matt sticking out your tongues colored blue with slushies, you and Matt, you and Matt, you and Matt...
Then Matthew's hand found yours, your fingers automatically intertwining with his. You started crying, first silently but then the sobs shook with your whole body.
"Come here," he murmured, hugging you. His body was so soft and warm, as if begging you to lean into his touch.
"How- how could you leave this all behind?" you mumbled between the sobs.
"It's not leaving if you don't say goodbye." Matt said, his fingers playing with yours.
"Then you are a fucking coward, Matthew."
Silence. He didn't argue with you on that, so you must have been right.
You stopped crying after a while, checking your watch while wiping your nose.
Shit. It was so late already - you had to call an uber to get you to the airport in the next hour or you'd be super late.
"I'll have to go," you said quietly, but Matt interrupted you.
"You are right," he tucked on the edge of his shirt, clearly nervous. He was nervous. "I was a coward. I thought that if I didn't say goodbye to you as I left, it'd hurt less. I was wrong and I was a fucking coward for not picking up your calls or replying to your messages because it would make it so real - that I was leaving and probably never coming back. But I want to make it all right again, I want to be a part of your life - if you will let me."
You thought about his offer and still, you couldn't answer. You weren't sure about letting him into your heart just for him to storm out again without a goodbye, leaving you behind, broken.
"Can I at least take you to the airport?" To that, you nodded, picking up the time capsule, putting all the items back in. Then you gave back the lent shovels to your neighbour and with a last glance at your house, you got into Matt's car.
...
On the way to the airport Matt played the playlist from the USB that was in the time capsule and the nostalgy hit you hard.
You remembered the lyrics, the melody; you remembered everything.
The drive was too short and you started panicking as the engine stopped.
Matthew helped you with your suitcase and went inside with you. The two of you stopped at the first gate.
"Here," he said, giving you a piece of paper. "It's my adress. Hopefully, you won't live so far away, so we could meet there if you wanted to."
You tucked it in your pocket without a word.
"Also, take this. I wrote it in ninth grade so don't think much of it. But I want you to read it, Y/N."
It was the letter from the time capsule, with your name on the blank envelope.
"I will." you promised.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward this time.
"I'll let you know my decision about what you said earlier. I just... I need some time."
Matt noded, giving you the space you so desperately needed.
"So, until we meet again - goodbye, Y/N."
"Goodbye, Matt."
...
The plane took off and you finally had the time to read the letter he gave you.
You immediately recognised his scrambled handwriting and you smiled at how messy it was before you started reading.
Dear Y/N,
I'm writing this in case I leave. Dad has been telling me for some time already that if I'll get drafted, I'll have to leave. He also said that if I'll be smart, I will never look back at my past.
I don't want you to be my past. I want you to be my present and my future.
He said I'll meet a lot of girls but I know that none of them is going to be like you.
So, I promise you, I will never say goodbye to you.
I love you,
Matt
With trembling fingers, you pulled out your phone, the tears already staining the screen.
That's why he never said goodbye. Because of this stupid letter and his stupid promise.
The phone rang once before he picked it up.
"Y/N? What is it?"
A ragged breath escaped you and you laughed and cried at the same time.
"I don't want you to be my past. I want you to be my present and my future."
"Oh, that was cheesy, wasn't it-"
"No, you dumbass. That's my answer."
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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years
Text
Just Doin’ My Job, Darlin’
Summary: Your job as a Ravager gets you into trouble with the intergalactic hero known as Captain Marvel.
Pairing: Reader x Carol Danvers
Warnings: some blood, light violence
Words: 3,547
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"Uh... hey," you practically stuttered out, startled to find someone behind you.
You were a ravager, and you were damn good at your job. That meant knowing your surroundings, especially when you were on a job. Yet, somehow, she'd managed to sneak up on you. If you hadn't been quick enough to shove the ring deep into your pocket, you'd have been caught red-handed.
You were damn good at your job, and you composed yourself in seconds. The ring slipped out from where it was clutched between your fingers and you withdrew your hands from within your pockets. You plastered a confident smile on your face as you crossed your arms across your chest.
"Hey there," the blonde offered, an equally confident smile on her face. "What's up?"
"Nothin'," you shrugged, uncrossing your arms and looping your thumbs through the belt loops on your pants. "Taking a walk. Beautiful night, isn't it, Beautiful?"
The blonde's eyes sparkled in amusement. She took a few steps closer. Confidence still coursing through your veins, you let her. You didn't make any move to back down. She noticed that. When she stopped, she was only a few feet away from you. Another step and she could have reached out and touched you.
The blonde's lips crept into a cocky expression. "Beautiful night indeed."
You didn't dare make it obvious how you were checking out the area for the second time. When you'd entered, you'd made note of every entrance and exit to the area. The blonde was blocking the one that lay directly ahead, but not the one behind you. That was free for you to turn and run to. You just needed to wait. If you went now, she'd be right behind you and able to catch up to you in mere seconds.
"Headed somewhere? I could walk you?" She offered. "You know, Fennal isn't always safe at night."
"I'm just going up the street. I'm good thanks."
You could feel the ring pressed against your leg in your pocket. You knew she knew you were up to no good. You also knew that she knew you knew she knew. Neither of you would say that aloud, though. It was a bit of a game, at this point. She wanted that little piece of jewelry in your pocket. You wanted it too. No, you wanted the pay you were promised for stealing it.
"You sure? I'm probably headed in the same direction."
"I doubt it," you laughed.
The blonde smirked a little. You kept your eyes with hers, unable to ignore just how beautiful her light brown irises really were. But you wouldn't tell her that. You wouldn't tell her jack shit. You were waiting for her to get distracted for one brief moment so that you could turn and sprint down that alley. It seemed your wishes were heard.
"Hey, Carol!" A voice called.
The blonde, Carol, let her gaze flicker toward the voice for a mere millisecond and you took the opportunity to turn and dart as fast as you could down the alley behind you. Your ears strained to hear over the sound of your own shoes hitting the gravel beneath your feet. Unmistakably, though, you heard the set of footsteps chasing after you. You pushed even harder.
You ducked through a backyard, pushing out of your way a jacket that was hanging on a clothesline. At the other side of the yard, you hopped over the fence and landed smoothly on the ground on the other side. But now, you didn't hear Carol's steps. You didn't risk slowing down. You kept onward in the direction of your pod.
As you ran, you became aware of your shadow growing in front of you. It was surrounded by a glowing orange light. Even as your lungs struggled to get enough oxygen, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When your shadow began to spin around your body until it was behind you, you realized why. You could have huffed aloud at the complete unfairness of the situation.
Carol was fifteen feet off the ground, surrounded by a bright orange glow. She still had that same smirk on her face as she looked down on you. You were hesitating in your step, now, not sure you could outrun her. You knew one thing, though. Despite these powers the blonde had, you weren't about to give up. You turned on your heel.
You watched your own shadow to keep track of Carol. She was following you. Your shadow shrunk and indicated she was getting closer. When your shadow began to shrink faster, you made a sharp turn to the left. The shadow grew a little as she fell behind a few feet, not prepared for the sudden change in direction. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, but you weren't a stranger to chases. You'd had more than a few run-ins with guards from many planets throughout the galaxy.
You smirked at the sight in front of you. One of the planet's natives had just inserted the keys into a hover bike but hadn't yet gotten on. You struggled to go faster than you thought you could. You pushed him to the ground, hopped on, and immediately pushed the bike as fast as it would go. You had to grip the handles tight as your inertia tried to hold you back.
The bike seemed to rival Carol's speed. The size of your shadow in front of you stayed constant and you managed to take a quick glance behind you. Carol was high in the air, hands down by her hips, moving more quickly than a person should be able to in order to keep up with the bike you were on. Then your pod came into view and you let a small smirk come over your face. You turned to the bike made to move past the ship, then jumped off.
Pain raced through your body. You ignored it, rolling a couple times to take the impact, racing up the ramp as quick as you possibly could, and slamming your hand down on the red button to shut the hatch. Carol wasn't thirty feet away. You took the last of your energy to roll onto your back.
"Athena, max speed!" You shouted.
The AI heard. She ignored every protocol about seatbelts and closed doors as the captain's voice override her programming. The pod had a max speed of 50,000 kilometers per hour. It was nothing compared to the main ship, but it was sure faster than Carol. The ship's acceleration got the best of her, and soon enough you were barreling through space and leaving her far behind.
As it had sped up faster than physics should have allowed, though, your body had slammed into the wall behind you. You groaned as you rolled away from it, every bone, organ, and tissue in your body aching from the speed. Your organs seemed to have caught up to the ship, finally. You resisted the urge to puke as you pulled yourself to your feet, rubbing a sore shoulder and swiping your fingers over the blood dripping down your forehead.
"Thanks, Athena. Take us home."
"Roger that, Boss."
You let yourself drop into your chair. You took the black mask off from where it had rested over the top half of your face, rubbing the pad of your index finger over the spot where it had pushed into the bridge of your nose, grumbling in frustration. You could feel the indent in your skin.
"ETA?"
"Twenty-seven minutes."
Those twenty-seven minutes seemed to take forever. The pod was small. There wasn't anywhere you could lay your head back. There wasn't a damn bathroom, a fact you couldn't seem to get your mind off. When the pod had secured itself to the mothership, you practically sprinted out and to the nearest toilet.
Your red jacket was undone as you stepped onto the bridge of The Athena. It was the middle of the night based on your home planet, the time that you and your crew followed to at least keep a semblance of a schedule. Because of the time, though, most of the crew had retreated to their quarters for the night and were fast asleep.  
"Hey, Cap."
The greeting caught your attention. You turned toward the voice, smiling when you met the gaze of your first mate. He wasn't much younger than you were. He was from a planet called Dervius, having retreated from the planet to live a life with the Ravagers after living a life of poverty there for ten years, having been cast out by his family at only eight. It was your third day as the leader of your clan when you picked him up and took him in, giving him a spot in your crew. That was already five years ago and the Dervion had worked his way all the way up to first mate.
"Vyn," you greeted.
"How'd it go?"
You pulled the sparkling ring from your pocket. Vyn grinned at the sight of it. He pulled a device out of his pocket, tapping on the screen a few times and then humming quietly as he scrolled. He let out a soft exclamation of victory as he found what he had been searching for.
"Three hundred thousand. Damn, Cap. That thing can't be worth 100k."
"Well, we charge for the stealing part too, Vyn."
Vyn shrugged. "Fair enough. Why don't you go catch some shuteye? We should be back to the buyer in a few hours. Who's doing the delivery?"
"I will," you said, sticking the ring back into your pocket.
Vyn chuckled. "You know, Cap, that most clan leaders aren't so hands on with the dirty work."
"I'm not most clan leaders, Vyn," you winked. "I'm heading down to my quarters. Call for me when we get there."
︽✵︽
You straightened out your red jacket as you stepped out of your pod. You nodded at the landing strip attendant as you ventured onto the familiar planet. You whistled merrily on your way, flashing wide smiles at whoever you happened to make eye contact with. You glanced at your phone as it directed you where to go. You could have caught a ride, but you were up for a bit of a walk.
It was a half hour walk to the place you were looking for. You stepped in quietly. It was a bar, and not exactly a very nice looking one. You wouldn't be surprised if half the people in there were criminals. In fact, you wouldn't be surprised if you weren't the only Ravager in there. When you entered you pulled the mask over your face again, clipping the flames of the Ravagers over your chest.
You stepped up to the bar and ordered a drink. You took it when it came and slid into one of the booths. You'd arrived early, and knew it'd be a while before the client arrived. You scanned the area as you waited, sipping quietly as you watched the planet natives, finding entertainment in two particularly large guys fighting over who had made the illegal move in a game of darts.
"Captain Red?"
Of course, that wasn't your real name. You'd never give your real name to a client. You only nodded, gesturing to the seat across from you. He sat down and fumbled with his hands a little, clearly nervous. It wasn't an uncommon reaction. He was meeting with a thief for hire and paying a good sum of money for stolen goods.
"I have the money."
"Straight to business, I see," you hummed, sipping from your glass. "That's alright with me."
You reached into your pocket, pulling out the ring. His eyes immediately locked to it. He reached out and you pulled away, keeping the piece out of his reach. You raised a single eyebrow as his eyes moved back up to yours. You clicked your tongue as a small smile of amusement played over your lips.
"Units first."
He nodded. He pulled out a device from his pocket, pressing some buttons on it. Yours, which sat out on the table in front of you, beeped. You glanced at it to find the transfer complete. Then you nodded, placing the ring flat in your palm, and holding it out in front of you.
"Pleasure doing business with you, sir."
He grabbed the ring, nodded, and scampered out without another word. You chuckled lightly to yourself, draining what was left in your glass. You pulled the mask off again and took the pin off your chest. Everyone else in the room was too drunk to notice the change. You stepped up to the bar once more.
"I'll take another."
The bartender nodded. He filled your glass as you put a finger to the comm in your ear and let Vyn know you were going to stick around for a little fun, should anyone want to join. But the Ravagers had made their own fun the previous night and were far too hungover to think of joining you in the bar. You rolled her eyes as you lowered your hand.
"Prettiest girl in the bar, aren't ya?" A voice slurred to your left.
You turned just in time to see the man flashed you a wide grin. You nodded and tilted your head a little. "I'd expect."
"So why don't ya come sit a little closer?"
You laughed. "I'm alright just where I am."
He sneered. "Listen here-"
But a shadow appeared between you and he, cast upon the bar top. It distracted the both of you. You turned to see who had stepped up to the two of you, and your jaw could have hit the ground. But your face stayed blank as the blonde's gaze met you for just a brief second before turning back to the man who had been hitting on you. She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Everything alright here?"
"'Course."
"I'd hope," she hummed. "Because I seem to remember you and I having a nice, long talk about good manners."
"We did," he coughed. He stood up, nodding at you and retreating back across the room to where his friends were all jesting and shouting, spilling their drinks on the tabletops, the floor, and themselves.
You turned your attention back to the woman who had stepped up next to you. She was taking the seat beside yours, ordering a drink for herself and another for you. You smirked a little when she turned to you. Despite your lack of a mask and the absence of the flames upon your chest, she recognized you immediately.
"Long time no see," she offered.
You chuckled. "Very. What's a Fenarian guard like you hangin' out in a place like this for, Carol?"
"Caught my name, I see," she said, accepting the drink that was slid toward her. "But the guard thing isn't quite accurate."
"Oh, no?"
That didn't get a reply. You sipped your drink, watching her the entire time. She only shrugged her shoulders, drinking from her own glass. It stayed like that for a long while. Your egos were both too big to dare be the one to break the silence that had fallen upon you. So, you drank in silence. In fact, you'd both drained your glasses before Carol finally took it upon herself to be the one to speak the first words.
"You know my name, and I don't know yours."
"That's intentional," you told her. "But if you must call me something, I usually just go by Captain. Cap works."
"That's a title, not a name."
"A fact I am well aware of, Carol."
When she didn't reply, you smirked a little. You weren't shy about the way you were eyeing her up and down. She was, to be frank, one of the most attractive women you'd ever met. She was smirking too, once your eyes had finally made their way back up to hers. You only offered a small tilt of your head in acknowledgement.
Carol stood. She placed a few coins down on the bar, enough to cover her own tab, yours, and a little more. She offered you a hand. You were confident, cocky even. You weren't one bit afraid of this woman. You put your hand into hers and let her pull you to your feet. She led you away from your stool, out the door, and into the bright sunlight of the planet. Then she kept going, moving away from the bar and leading you down the streets. At some point your fingers had intertwined with hers and now you were walking hand in hand down the streets.
"You know I didn't need anyone to save me from that guy, right?"
"A thanks might have sufficed," she replied.
"It might have," you agreed.
Finally, you both arrived back at the landing strips. She led you right back to your own pod. You hadn't yet paid the fee for having kept it parked there for the last hour and a half but, judging from the look on Carol's face, you weren't going anywhere just yet. This time it was you leading as you pulled her on board, closing the hatch behind you. Once it was closed you moved.
Your hands moved and took Carol's waist, pulling her close to you. Her body was flush against yours, her hands in your hair, as she kissed you back. She let out a soft noise as you pushed her against the wall behind her. You smirked against her lips. It was a long moment before Carol pushed you away breathlessly. But you weren't done.
Your lips moved down to her neck, bringing the skin between your lips as you sucked roughly at it. It was a full moan that tumbled from her lips this time. You wanted to laugh in victory, but instead you released the skin, running your tongue softly over the mark you'd left on her. You moved back up to her lips and pecked them once, pulling back to glance into those light brown irises.
"That all you got then, Y/N?"
"I thought you didn't know my name."
Carol rolled her eyes. "Sorry, love. I could call you Captain if you wanted."
You put a hand against her cheek. "That would be extraordinarily hot."
Carol laughed. She put her lips against yours again, kissing you once more. She spun the both of you so that you traded places. This time it was your back against the wall. You leaned into it without much fight, letting her take her turn controlling the pace of the kiss. When you finally separated, she rest her forehead against yours.
"I love you."
You laughed. "We just met."
"Oh, fuck off," she laughed too.
You brought her hand into yours, thumb gliding across the ring you'd put on her finger five years ago. Her eyes darted to the identical one on yours. Her smirk faded into a smile and she brought you hand up to her lips, kissing your knuckles softly. You leaned a little further into her touch, pecking her lips once more.
"I love you, too," you muttered against her.
She laughed. She put two fingers beneath your chin, tilting your gaze up to meet hers. You loved those eyes with that cunning sparkle in light brown irises that you'd fallen so hard for all those years ago. Just as she was about to kiss you once again, there was a banging on the outside of the pod. You huffed in frustration.
You didn't even bother going out. You quickly transferred the fee you owed electronically. The banging stopped, and so you assumed everything had gone through without a problem. You shoved the small device back into your pocket and then turned your attention back to Carol. She was watching you with amusement sparking in her eyes.
"You're cute when you're angry," she commented.
"Yeah, yeah," you rolled your eyes. "We should get out of here before someone, you know, chases me off the planet."
Carol laughed, she put her arms around your waist. "I'm Captain Marvel. I can't let some thief get away with stealing valuables. Maybe they shouldn't have run."
"Just doin' my job, darlin'," you chuckled, arms resting on her shoulders and hands linking loosely behind her neck.
She hummed softly at that, kissing you again. It had been five years and her touch still made you melt. You were sure another five years could pass and that still wouldn't have changed. Your eyes fluttered shut and your lips moved with hers and the world could have disappeared around you and you wouldn't have noticed. But it didn't. There was banging on the door again.
"I need this spot!" The attendant shouted from the other side of the door.
You huffed. You forced yourself to peel away from Carol's body. You took a seat in front of the controls, and Carol took the one next to you. You started everything up, checking that they'd recharged the battery while you'd been there. Once you were sure of everything, you lay a hand on Carol's thigh and glanced out the front window.
"Take us away, Athena," you said.
"Roger that, Captain Danvers." 
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scuttle-buttle · 3 years
Text
Psychopathia Sexualis - Chapter 1
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Sequel to The Interpretation of Dreams
Pairing: Modern AU Professor Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader
Summary: After experiencing a whirlwind enemies-turned-lovers romance with the imposing Professor Laszlo Kreizler, things have been wonderful for you. Your studies are coming along, work is enjoyable, and you are in a stable relationship with the man you believe to be the love of your life. Suddenly, everything threatens to come crashing down with the arrival of a face from the past. Will jealousy and desire consume you and destroy the love you finally found?
WC: 1116
Rated: M (will increase in later chapters)
Chapter Tags: domestic fluff, age difference, technically student/teacher relationship, mentions of daddy kinks & sugar daddies
🧠
Time passed quickly since the day you and the doctor finally admitted your feelings for each other. After that you were practically inseparable. You resumed work as his TA, only occasionally getting distracted, but the term was over after a few short weeks anyway. You had agreed to keep everything rather low key, so as not to encourage the wrath of the university. There was no actual rule against graduate students coupling with professors. Nevertheless, the practice was often frowned upon, and you didn’t want Laszlo to get in trouble. If anyone asked, you were just ‘friendly coworkers that sometimes ate meals together after work’. Most didn't pay attention to you anyway since you weren't friends with any underclassmen. Despite the fifteen year age difference you were both on the same page with the seriousness of the relationship. You knew how you felt about each other.
Sara and John found out right away. Because they had expected it to happen anyway there was no reason to hide it from them. The two were beyond happy for you. Whether Laszlo had noticed John slip a twenty dollar bill into Sara’s hand after the admission you’ll never know; at your raised brow John just shrugged and said that it was "about damn time". Bitsy was equally as delighted for you. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was also glad you would be out of the house more often so that she could spend time with her own boyfriend, Lucius.
Now, you are laying on your Laszlo’s bed scrolling through social media. The wintery weather outside his bedroom window gives you a chill despite the warmth of the fireplace he has burning. You were still not over just how nice his place was. It was in a rather upscale part of town and was roughly three times the size of your place. The townhouse style was similar in fashion to his office at the university - full of dark ornate wood and books and even a chandelier in the foyer. When you had asked how he afforded something like this in the heart of the city, he had just said a wealthy great uncle or other had left it in the family. With Laszlo being the only surviving member he inherited it.
Your love was getting himself ready in the bathroom. He had a department meeting to attend on campus in an hour. Tomorrow the new spring term would begin, and you were to resume your post as his TA. An errant thought crosses your mind as you admire the expensive looking painting hung on his wall.
“Laz?”
“Yes, Bärchen?” his response echoes in the large bathroom. You smile at the nickname, little bear. He’d given it to you because he said your presence was like that of a bear, ready to fight to protect herself and those she cared about.
“Are you my sugar daddy?” You can see his reflection in the mirror. He looks scandalized by the implications of your question.
“What would prompt you to ask that?” A blush forms on the apples of his cheeks.
“I mean think about it, I spend time with you - an older, exceedingly handsome, wealthy man - and in return I get orgasms and nice things.” Truth is, you are joking entirely, you know the relationship is conventional. You just like to watch him squirm with teasing like this.
He walks into the bedroom and picks his sweater off the bed next to you. “You're teasing me," he accuses with a grin. "I hardly think it can be considered as that sort of arrangement when you get paid because you are employed to work for me. It is merely happenstance that the other characteristics should parallel themselves to that of a…” he searches for the words, “financial benefactor.” You laugh at his unwillingness to say ‘sugar daddy’. “As for the orgasms…” he smirks and drops a kiss to your head.
He finishes dressing as you bury yourself under the duvet. “What are your plans while I’m detained?”
“I don’t know, figured I would just take it easy today. I need to be well rested for my first day at work tomorrow - I hear some pretty ruthless things about this German doctor I’m going to be working with.” You get off the bed and wrap your arms around Laszlo’s waist. “But I don't know, I think I’ll like the guy.” He leans in to give you a chaste kiss.
Checking his watch he sees that he needs to leave lest he be late for the meeting. “You’re welcome to stay here while I’m gone. It shouldn’t be more than an hour or two at most. Perhaps we will go to Delmonicos for dinner to celebrate the beginning of a new term.”
“Sounds great, daddy,” you wink. Normally you didn’t tease him this much, but you were in a playful mood.
He rolls his eyes. “Remind me why it is that I tolerate you?”
“‘Cause you love me,” you retort with a broad smile.
He brings your hand up, kissing the back of it as he turns to leave. Softly he whispers “Indeed I do.”
_
Laszlo fiddles with the pen in his hand. The upcoming semester was no different than previous ones. He had stopped taking ‘notes’ long ago as the head of the department continued to drone on. Laszlo would admit, the meeting had drawn on longer than anticipated and he had lost focus on the last few minutes. He would rather be at home in your company than here.
“Before we end the meeting I do have one last exciting announcement - many of you have been around long enough to remember, but we are pleased to be welcoming back Dr. Stratton as a visiting professor this semester!” the department head cheered. At the mention of a Dr. Stratton Laszlo perked up.
“Dr. Karen Stratton will be conducting outside research in the city, so I have asked that she grace us with her presence in teaching an elective on her speciality: sexual deviancy. Unfortunately, she is on a flight to the states as we speak, otherwise I know she would be here to greet you all herself.”
Karen was coming to New York?
The thought excited him, as he hadn’t seen her since he moved to the States four years ago. He and Karen had followed each other's work for years before meeting at a symposium in Vienna almost six years prior. The two remained close until he accepted the current position and fell out of touch.
Meeting over, Laszlo sent you a text to be ready for Delmonico’s when he got home. He had much to look forward to this term.
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hansolmates · 4 years
Text
jjk; off-league
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summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation.  pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity  w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet​ BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write! 
“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.” 
“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach. 
It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason. 
You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs. 
It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy. 
You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache. 
“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud. 
Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long? 
Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?” 
“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly. 
“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong. 
But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon. 
The most recent message is to a person named John Kook. 
You scream. 
Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—” 
“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!” 
“Well… is he at least cute?” 
“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!” 
“Tasteful nudes.” 
“I’m gonna die.” 
“He’s gonna die, of happiness.” 
Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates. 
Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM. 
“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?” 
“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.” 
Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot. 
You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram. 
Of course, he’s stupid hot. 
He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well. 
To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more. 
Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend. 
Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league. 
By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on. 
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“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen. 
Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen. 
Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.
“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?” 
You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot. 
“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?” 
“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?” 
“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.” 
“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”
“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!” 
The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”
“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.” 
“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”
“—interrupting something?” 
You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance. 
And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing. 
“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.” 
Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures. 
“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.” 
You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something. 
“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie. 
Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.” 
“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”
“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink. 
“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.” 
Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy. 
You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really. 
Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing. 
“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”
It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?” 
“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.” 
Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment. 
“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film. 
You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic. 
“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?” 
He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.” 
“You think right.” 
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair. 
“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?” 
You frown, “At least put some thought into it.” 
“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier. 
His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot. 
You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud. 
Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes. 
After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container. 
“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?” 
Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display. 
“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”  
The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?” 
“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.” 
Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation. 
“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.” 
You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking. 
“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.” 
Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.” 
“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?” 
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.” 
For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.
“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize. 
“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.” 
“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.” 
If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.” 
“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?” 
Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.” 
“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.” 
You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you. 
The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down. 
When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks. 
Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts. 
Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed. 
[March 12th, 3:53AM]
You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…
John Kook: ??? 
John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it
John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?
[March 12th, 12:02 PM]
John Kook: are u mad
John Kook: you’re mad
John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you
John Kook: im making it weird. 
[March 31st, 6:24 PM]
John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…
You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture. 
John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today. 
Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.” 
You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.” 
“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.” 
“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.” 
“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?” 
"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.” 
You choke on your saliva. 
“You okay?”
“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?” 
“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.” 
“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?” 
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?” 
“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!” 
“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”
“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.” 
You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.” 
“I’ll throw up on you, try me.” 
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Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off. 
“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?” 
“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?” 
Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.” 
Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.” 
He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens. 
Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists. 
“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger. 
You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine. 
Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.” 
He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.” 
You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?” 
“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.” 
If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag. 
Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin. 
“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio. 
“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”
You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony. 
“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him. 
“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.” 
“It was.” 
“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table. 
He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.” 
You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.” 
His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity. 
The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die. 
Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more. 
“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 
He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 
You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them. 
As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.
Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.” 
There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists. 
Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset. 
“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself. 
“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.” 
“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.” 
He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink. 
Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set. 
Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.” 
“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.
“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.” 
You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.” 
“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?” 
Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—
“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that. 
“Thinking about what?”
“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”
“Excuse me?” 
“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?” 
“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.
“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?” 
“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.” 
And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself. 
“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.” 
Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.” 
“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.
“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.” 
You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame. 
“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home. 
You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead. 
“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade. 
“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?” 
He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?” 
“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?” 
With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this. 
“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.” 
2K notes · View notes
bleep-bleep-richie · 3 years
Text
part one
part two
He's not panicking.
Just because he knows Eddie had court at 9am and they had plans to talk at lunch, and it's now 7pm and he still hasn't called.
Nope, definitely not panicking.
He isn't pacing the apartment either. No, he's just taking a leisurely stroll back and forth across his living room. There's just nothing good on TV. He isn't panicking, there's no reason to panic.
He had texted him at 1 and, after getting no answer, again at 5. He picks his phone up where he'd thrown it not even five minutes ago face down on the couch. He swipes his way to his messages.
Nothing.
He clicks "💖Edwardo💖" and scrolls through their messages from the last couple days. He sighs and clicks the text box.
Hey, I'm gonna stay up until I hear from you, so call me whenever.
He sends it and throws the phone to the side, collapsing against the back of his sofa. He picks up his laptop, clicks on the video chat app, and stares at the stupid picture Eddie had chosen as his icon. The edge of his mouth lifts in spite of the sick churning in his stomach. "Eddie fucking Kaspbrak," he mumbles with a shake of his head. He's still looking at Eddie's picture when he starts to doze off.
He has no idea how much time has gone by when he's woken up by the sound of a call coming through his computer. His vision's blurry, he pushes his glasses back up on his face, and sees Eddie's smile way too close to the camera. He accepts the call. "What the fuck, man?"
"Richie!" Eddie cries. "Did I wake you? You said you were staying up."
Richie stretches and yawns before picking the laptop up and putting it on his coffee table. "Guess I fell asleep." He narrows his eyes. "Where are you?"
"Out! With Matt!"
Richie wants to ask who the hell Matt is but the camera is on the guy before he gets the chance.
"Look, Matt, it's my boyfriend," he hears Eddie say, "the guy I was telling you about!"
Richie has a moment of disconnect. "Uh," he says cleverly.
Matt leans closer. "Wait, holy shit, you really are Richie Tozier." He grins. "When Eddie said he was dating a celebrity, I didn't believe him."
"Fuck you!"
"Uh, hi?" Richie says. He's still reeling from 'boyfriend' and 'dating.' "Sorry, who are you again?"
Eddie turns the phone back, his face swims into view unsteadily. "My new manager! I hired him last week, he's gonna manage the New York branch when I leave."
"Okay, you're screaming."
"I'm celebrating!" he yells, raising a glass. He knocks it back and drains it to prove his point.
It's loud, Richie can hear the sounds of other people talking and laughing. He guesses they're in a bar. "Can you go outside or something? I can barely hear you."
Eddie's nodding as he gets to his feet. "Shit, yeah, sorry," he says when he swallows. "Matt, I'll be right back."
"Take your time, boss. Nice to meet you, Mr. Tozier!"
Richie makes a face. "Did he just call me Mister Tozier?"
Eddie laughs. He leans against the cool bricks of the building once he gets outside. "Yeah, he's like that."
"So," Richie starts after a beat, "how'd it go?"
"Oh! We found a place!"
"A place?"
"Yeah, an office building," Eddie replies excitedly. "Matt found it on the computer. And! He put up an ad for people to email me their resumes. It was so much easier than I was making it, big shocker there, right."
Richie tilts his head for a second. "That's fantastic, Eds, but what about court?"
"Oh, oh! Richie!" Eddie's smile splits his face. "She signed the papers! She dropped everything she was asking for, a share in the company, all the alimony. She told me on the way out it's because she's already engaged, and all I could think was 'that poor schmuck." He laughs, open and cheerful. Richie doesn't know if he's ever seen him so happy.
"Wow, that's awesome. Congratulations."
Something in his voice must give him away. Eddie's eyes soften and his smile fades. "Oh, Rich, I'm so sorry. I was supposed to call. I was just so excited to get everything done, we worked right through lunch. I'm booking a flight to LA tomorrow. Richie, we're going to he together before the end of the week." His eyes are so bright and happy, Richie wants to drown himself in them.
"That's- Wow, Eds, that's amazing." He pauses. "You're amazing." Eddie's eyes start to water and Richie figures he must be way drunker than he's letting on. "Wait, how are you video chatting from your phone?"
Eddie blinks. "Oh, there's an app for it."
"Yes, I know there's an app for it. How in the hell did you know there was an app for it? The only app you have on your phone is a calculator."
"Matt downloaded it for me. I saw your text and mentioned I needed to call you, so he showed me how to do it."
"That's great," Richie says flatly. "Matt's great."
"Yeah, he really is a whiz at the technology stuff."
"That's what happens when you hire a 20 year old."
"He's 25." He considers Richie a moment. "Wait, what was that?"
"What was what?"
Eddie eyes him. "That tone was hostile and, like, jealous. Are you-"
"I'm definitely not jealous."
Eddie's eyes widen. "You're lying! That's your lying face!"
"I have a lying face?" Richie asks, raising his eyebrows.
"You do, and you're making it right now. Why would you be jealous of Matt?"
"I'm not!" he protests. He sighs. "I dunno, man, it's just like, the most important day of your life and that's who you're celebrating with."
"Richie," Eddie says. His voice is gentle, like trying to coax a wild animal into a cage. It makes Richie want to punch a wall at how ridiculously easy it is for Eddie to turn him to mush. "I would rather celebrate with you than anyone in the world. But, baby, you're not here."
Richie's mind short circuits so hard over the word 'baby' that it takes him a full 30 seconds to process the rest of that sentence. He scoffs a laugh, completely humorless. "Yeah, and whose fault is that?"
Eddie's face crumbles and he looks down and away from the camera, like he's ashamed. Like Richie is embarrassing him.
He instantly feels like a jackass. "I'm sorry, Eds, I'm not trying to rain on your parade. I was just worried, when you didn't call."
"I said I was sorry. I got busy."
"I texted you three times," Richie replies. He feels like a petulant housewife who spent all day cooking a dinner that her husband never came home to eat. He guesses that's exactly how he sounds, too.
Eddie turns his sad eyes on Richie. "I didn't even look at my phone until like fifteen minutes ago. I called as soon as I saw them."
"I know, I know." He shakes his head. "'I'm sorry, 'm being a dick."
Eddie smirks. "Imagine that."
Richie breathes out his nose and wills himself not to be angry. Always understanding, never upset. Always with a joke but never with a complaint. How he's been all year, all his life with Eddie, if he's honest with himself. Never too emotional or serious, just in case it overwhelms. "I'll let you get back. Just let me know when you book your flight, I'll clean the guest room."
"The guest room?" Eddie's face falls. "I have to sleep in my own room? You're that mad that I forgot to call?"
"No, it's not- I just didn't want to assume-"
"Or is it because I'm out with Matt?" Eddie continues like Richie hadn't even spoken. "Because I barely even know him, Rich. I was just in a good mood and we both needed to eat. It doesn't- I don't know if he's even gay."
Richie feels green. "He's cute," he says neutrally. "He's there. You're drunk."
"Richie."
He shakes his head, rubs his palms against the denim on his knees. "I know, I know. I'm being stupid because I miss you and I missed today and I- I'm sorry."
Eddie eyes go big and wistful. "I would never- Rich, I've spent the entire time since I've met him waxing poetic about you. Besides business shit, you're the only thing we've talked about. He's probably getting sick of it, honestly."
The sudden leap of his stomach makes him want to puke. "It's okay, Eds, you don't have to-"
"Richie," Eddie cuts him off. He pulls the phone closer to his face. "Richie, I'm crazy about you. You know, sometimes-" He laughs, blushes, glances away for a second. Richie wants to look at him forever. "Somtimes after we hang up, I jerk off to the memory of the sound of your voice. It's kind of pathetic. I'm completely gone on you, is the point I'm making."
"I-" he stops himself. He'd sworn at least a hundred times over the passed year that he wasn't going to say it until Eddie is in front of him. And he's going to keep that promise. "You're- you're everything, sweetheart. I- You know how I feel about you, don't you, Eddie?"
Eddie's smile is blinding. "Yeah, I think you waiting on me for almost a year while I got my shit together is a pretty big clue."
Richie grins back.
"I have to go settle the tab," Eddie says after a moment.
"You could call me," Richie tells him, "when you get back to your room. Jerk off to my actual voice, instead of the memory. I could say something worth jerking off to."
Pink rises on Eddie's cheekbones and flushes down onto his neck, right where Richie wants to bite him. "Thanks, now I have to go back in there at half mast."
"Oh, you are so very welcome. No need to thank me. The pleasure's all mine, really." The sad thing is, he isn't lying. Nothing gets him going faster than the mere idea that Eddie wants him. The evidence of it, the confession, has him rock hard in his pants already.
"You're insufferable."
"Insatiable, Edward. The word is insatiable."
Eddie rolls his eyes with a chuckle. "I'm going to call you in 45 minutes," he promises.
Richie nods. "I'll have my script ready. The never ending list of things I'd do to corrupt the pure and innocent Eddie Kaspbrak."
"Insufferable!" He pauses, still smiling even though he's griping. "45 minutes."
"I'll be here, Eds." He flushes with the honesty of it. "I'll always be here."
89 notes · View notes
fatefulfaerie · 3 years
Text
Once Upon A Time
Long one shot under the cut. Every once in a while I obsess over Gelato (Roman x Neo) so...yeah...
Spoilers for RWBY: Roman Holiday (read it if you haven’t it’s so good!!)
He didn’t know how to treat it like anything but a heist.
Roman had definitely kissed a girl before, Bleu Berry at the orphanage when he was twelve, Crimsen Blank when he was fifteen, Verd Webster when he was seventeen, and then of course the off and on thing with Chameleon while he worked for Lil’ Miss.
But something about kissing Neo was special, something not to be messed up or done lightly like every other young woman he had kissed. He had to do it right.
It had seemed like a lifetime ago since Roman had planned a heist without Neo, and he found himself at a loss because of it. She really was the brains of their partnership...and the brawn…
Why was he even here?
Neo gave him a distinct look. She snapped her fingers in front of his face.
“Sorry.”
He was staring again, at her instead of the television. His cover story was that he stared into space when he was really tired.
Lie.
It was really him taking glances from under her nose, like pickpocketing a stranger’s wallet.
Steal.
Cheat.
Survive
Love.
When did that get in there?
Normally when they sat down together to watch the large, holographic screen that emitted from Neo’s facedown scroll -- Roman still hadn’t gotten his hands on a new scroll. He was perfectly able to steal one of course, especially since the Vale City Mall had the most pathetic security. He just kept straight up forgetting -- they were watching themselves on TV, laughing about the coverage of their recent ridiculous robbery and eating spicy hot wings from the Cuckoo Crazy Chicken Shack.
This was the first time that Roman was thinking about someone else while watching his own name flash across the screen.
He was catching feelings for her, and there was no doubt about it. He had been catching feelings ever since she saved his life in the alley where she first showed off her semblance, and then more and more as they spent time together.
Roman pinpointed the moment she showed him the fabulous outfit she had made for him as that oh moment that you read about in romance novels.
Not that he read. He accidentally stole a book once. Once. Neo was the reader. He could hardly summon the patience. When Neo gave him a book to read, he skipped to the end. Roman didn’t see the point in all the rest.
But for some reason with this conundrum, this real-life conundrum, he couldn’t bring himself to skip to the end, to just kiss her like it meant just as much as any other kiss.
He tried to plan it like a heist, watching Neo, memorizing her routine, figuring the best moment of the day to perform the act, but it didn’t work. Neo was too unpredictable. She wasn’t like a bank or a warehouse that had their security guards on the same schedule every day. Her chaos was part of her charm, always doing the unexpected, but Roman was absolutely lost as to when he should make his move, if at all. They had a good thing going here, after all, and for all he knew he could kiss her one second and be knocked out cold the next.
Roman felt a slap on his shoulder and he looked over.
What the hell?
Neo was mute yet Roman could hear her say it. She must have been doing airplane arms before she slapped him.
She pointed at him and then her right ear, her forehead creased with inquisition.
“No, I am not going deaf,” Roman said.
She must have been clapping and snapping to get his attention.
“I’m just thinking,” he explained, the words spilling out just as he realized he might have to come up with an answer for what he was thinking.
But Neo nodded in understanding. What a wonderful human being. She mimed sleep, resting her head on hands that touched palms.
“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “Sleep. Good idea.”
Since his fancy condo was ambushed by Lil’ Miss, the two partners in crime had settled in an abandoned building that had gone from being a restaurant to a convenience store to a nail salon in the span of three months, before being abandoned for a year now. This street was a terrible place for an above-board business and even the Vale Government had let it rot, too small and inconsequential to be made into a factory or a warehouse of any sort.
Neo and Roman found it a week after the skirmish at the Vanille mansion. It was dilapidated and falling apart but it was only as broken as each of them were before they found each other. They quickly saw it as home.
So Roman stood up in order to head towards his bedroll in the corner. Neo watched him with a suspicious eye.
“Now that we’ve done as much damage as we could with the information from Mr. Vanille’s computer…”
Neo had already noticed that Roman never referred to the late Jimmy Vanille as her dad. Biologically he was her dad but he never treated her like a daughter.
“We may as well start on this dust business,” he continued. “Dust Till Dawn seems like the easiest target to me but I’d rather start bigger, something more fun.”
He turned around in case Neo had anything to add but she only stood up and paced towards him, using her semblance to change into Roman Torchwick himself. Roman looked at the mirrored version of himself as Neo made fun of the way he had been acting, staring with a blank expression, losing his train of thought. She then changed back into herself and shrugged her shoulders with her hands up as if to ask him why.
“I…I don’t know.”
He stammered. He rarely stammered.
She crossed her hands over her heart, then offered her hands to him. He knew what that meant.
Can I help?
She was always so thoughtful.
“It, umm…”
He had to be confident about this, he absolutely had to. He was Roman Torchwick, after all, the fabulous, the famous. He was fearless. He was clever and could get any girl he wanted, even the best of the best that stood in front of him. He could do this.
“Roman Torchwick this is the VPD,” a voice bellowed. Roman closed and opened his eyes.
“Why is it never you?” He asked Neo quietly, who was smirking. She stuck out her tongue.
“Come out with your hands up,” the loud voice continued. “We’ve got you surrounded.”
Neo turned back into Roman.
“Meet you at Forever Fall?” He asked.
Neo nodded and ran off to get caught by the police. Roman pocketed Neo’s scroll and grabbed Melodic Cudger and Hush, the two hooks of which clinked in his grasp.
“Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Torchwick,” he heard as he was halfway out the window in the back. Roman froze and listened. He dared to let his vanity doom him. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t do you justice.”
Roman turned his head.
What was that supposed to mean?
He could see the scene barely, through a gap in one of the distant boarded windows. Neo, in his image of course, stood with her hands in surrender.
“A volatile jokester,” the policeman continued, circling around Neo. “Always has something to remark. Doesn’t seem to want to shut up.” He stopped his spherical pacing and turned on his heel. “Do you know where I got these phrases?”
Neo shook her head.
“Vale Police Department records,” he said. “It’s how they describe you, and it’s how I know you aren’t really in front of me right now, are you Torchwick?”
He felt the panic in his heart, he tried to slip out the window but his forehead met a gun as it cocked with a click.
Their strategy had worked twice already, a disguised Neo getting arrested as Roman fled to a rendezvous location. Neo would use her semblance to escape captivity easily and they would have cheated the system. But it seems the police caught on.
Roman was almost impressed as he bumped shoulders with Neo in the back of the cop car, their weapons confiscated and Neo’s scroll slammed in half by the heel of one of the officers. Their hands were literally tied and Roman might have found a way to fight his way out of this but hey, he had never seen the interior of the Vale Police Department before. He figured it was time for a grand tour of the rathole’s rat hole.
“What’s that?” were the next words out of his mouth twenty minutes later. The VPD building was disappointing. Roman regretted wanting a look inside within a couple steps.
“Semblance inhibitor,” the officer replied, latching a second pair of handcuffs onto Neo’s wrists and only Neo’s wrists. “New tech from Atlas. It drains aura.”
Neo looked at Roman with a flash of panic in her eyes. She was always so confident in her chaos that it was a rare sight to see her scared.
“It’s okay,” he managed softly.
“We’re submitting her for questioning,” the officer continued, nearly interrupted as if Roman hadn’t said anything. “And we’re sending you back to Mistral. Lil’ Miss will be elated to learn that you are alive.”
They began to pull them away along two different hallways.
“No,” Roman said, struggling. “No!”
He lurched for Neo with all his might and caught her lips. That one moment of vulnerability where she tried to keep him with her cost him his better sense as he was very nearly yanked away, only seeing Neo’s face in shock.
“She’s mute, you idiots!” Neo heard Roman exclaim. “She couldn’t answer even if she wanted to. You lay a hand on her and so help me gods I’ll--”
A door slammed shut. Neo didn’t get to hear that last bit.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Trivia Vanille a.k.a. “Neopolitan”
Height: 4’10”
Age: 19
Prisoner ID Number: 827338
It was the first time in several years that she genuinely smiled in a picture, and it was a mugshot. Although she could see in her file the name that was dead to her, they referred to her verbally only as Neopolitan. The respect made Neo over the moon with happiness, made her almost forget her concern to get out of this without her semblance. The lock on her normal handcuffs were simple enough to pick once she was left alone but the one that shone blue and drained her energy even now would take a bit more creativity.
Roman Torchwick
Height: 5’11”
Age: 27
Prisoner ID Number: 827299
How many times did he have to tell them? He was six foot three. Six. Feet. Three. Inches. They never listened to him and it bothered him that it was on his permanent record that he didn’t measure up to at least six feet. For goodness sake, he was a celebrity. Any dunce on the street knows that he has orange hair, a white jacket, a grey scarf tied around his neck, and dashing emerald eyes. Everyone knows that he gave himself the birthday of October 31st (the mother who abandoned him at the orphanage didn’t care to specify the day that he had an excuse to steal cake) and that he was six foot three. It was on his mugshot and everything. He pleaded until he had two hands on the bars of his temporary holding cell. He was on his knees.
“Lights out.”
He sighed.
“Fine.”
He heard a foot stomp behind him. His cellmate was standing against the barred window that let in only streaks of moonlight, only fractions of nightlife and remnants of an already crumbled world.
He was a quite heavyset man and Roman’s heart skipped a beat. Roman was good in a fight but he wasn’t sure about these odds as he slowly stood up. This guy looked to have the strength of ten men and his arms were crossed.
Descending pink triangles dispelled the illusion and Roman choked a sigh of relief when the burly man turned into the small silhouette of Neo herself. Her hip cocked to the side and Roman knew, although he couldn’t see it, that she was smirking.
Roman rushed forth and hugged her, embraced her desperately like he never had before. He must have really thought they weren’t getting out of this one together.
“How?” he asked when they separated, his eyes searching her moonlit face.
Neo mimed picking a lock but then shook her head. She then mimed smashing her heel into an invisible pair of handcuffs between her two wrists and gave Roman a thumbs up.
“Good to know Atlas technology goes so fancy on design that brute force is the solution to breaking it. Would you like to pick the cell lock or shall I?”
Neo nodded and skipped to do just that, as if that were the easy part. Neo plucked pins from her mess of brown and pink hair and got to work kneeling before the lock and snaking her arms around the other side of the bars. Roman leaned on the bedpost and ignored his actual cellmate, the actual burly, wideset man who was knocked out on the bottom bunk and had a gnarly bruise the resembled Neo’s heeled boots across his face.
“About earlier, I…” Roman hesitated. “I guess I just wanted to apologize if I took you by surprise. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do, don’t get me wrong, I just…”
After several clicks, the door swung open and Neo turned around to face Roman, approaching him. Roman wondered if she had even heard him until she grasped his tied gray scarf and pulled him into her lips. It was all the answer Roman needed as they explored each other’s mouths, Neo slowly backing up and Roman chasing her, walking forward. When she let loose his lips they were out of the cell. She smiled. Roman was absolutely smitten.
She turned into a security guard, one they had seen earlier and she took his hand, Roman giggling under his breath as they fled from the Vale Police Department and into the wild night they had claimed as their own.
The memory became foggy, as it always did. It turned into a million other nights of chaos with him, all melding into a single lifetime that was now deceased. Trivia Vanille once died in the burning rubble of the Vanille Estate and left Neopolitan in her stead, but the moment Neo saw a blinding “X” over Roman’s aura gage a different Neopolitan had emerged. This one wasn’t languishing in her new sense of identity, wasn’t happy beyond belief in her friendship with this Torchwick guy. No, this Neopolitan was in pain, deep soulful, cutthroat, bleeding pain. When she threw a parasol and made her dad bleed she felt nothing. When her parents died because of the dust her dad harbored, she felt free. But when Roman died, she felt grief for the very first time, felt loss and lost in this world that didn’t understand her, would never understand her like he did.
Neo blinked her eyes open.
She liked when her dreams dipped into her memories up until the point where she woke up, where reality reminded her what was past and what was present.
It smelled like blood here. Neo had started to wonder if this is what it was like to be in the womb, gestating, trapped, waiting to be reborn in Salem’s image. The thought made Neo gag. This was the last place she wanted to be, seen as a mere chess piece in Salem’s game. She grew up as a chess piece that had been discarded, then used, then discarded again, like a dirty towel her parents kept forgetting about. What once liberated her was her newfound knowledge that her decisions could be her own but now she was CInder’s helper? beneficiary?
She would have to stomach it until Cinder upheld her end of the deal and got her to Ruby Rose.
Neo pushed against the bed she was assigned and sat up, although she would use the term bed extremely loosely. It was a hunk of red rock and the small room looked like the maw of a Grimm more than anything else. Neo would quantify it to a torture chamber if there wasn’t a small young man literally being tortured a few rooms over. She at least had it better off than him, but that didn’t say much.
Neo steadied her breath and closed her eyes. She thought of him, not the boy who screamed in anguish down the hallway but him. Roman. She thought of his brown, leather slip-on shoes and how much he hated the hassle of tying laces. She thought of his dark grey pants and how they collected around his ankles. She thought of his white coat and remembered tailoring it to his size, remembered thinking of the moment she would surprise him with it. She remembered his gloves and how it felt to be held by those hands. She remember his grey scarf and tried not to think about how it was on her neck instead of his. She tried to think of his piercing green eyes and his pumpkin orange hair, his bowler hat that had a red ribbon and a grey feather. She tried to remember his voice.
She opened her eyes and stood up slowly, pacing towards the illusion she had created, feeling tears sting in her eyes, feeling her heart beat with relief she tried to subdue.
“Neo,” he said softly.
She bawled, tears streaming down her face. She took the hat off her head and put it on her doll. She cupped his face with her hands and found herself missing having to go on her tippy toes like this.
Neo thought she could hold the illusion long enough to at least hug him, to at least derive some comfort from her memories and what her semblance was able to do with them. Yet, the illusion just as soon shattered, crumbling into shards of glass. Neo’s gasp was shaky as she looked down into her palms. Her breaths matched no rhythm and her soul bled as if she had lost him all over again. She looked up.
Cinder.
Her lip quivered. Neo couldn’t help it. Her brow furrowed in anger despite her sadness. The pink and the brown were like flames. And yet Cinder couldn’t even see her hate. No one could see anything of her.
“Salem wants everyone on the bridge,” Cinder said. “Welcome to reality.”
She walked off without a care and Neo fell to her knees, gathering the glass shards. She seethed with anger as she held them delicately in her hands. Her panting increased as balled her hands into fists, not caring in the slightest the sharp pain in her palms or the blood staining her white gloves.
She made a silent promise to Roman then, not to live for herself like she once did but to survive long enough to give Ruby Rose everything she deserved.
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charlies-gillespie · 3 years
Text
reminence | charlie gillespie
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paring: fem!reader x charlie gillespie
summary: reader stays the night in a hotel but there are no rooms. her ex, Charlie, overheard her talking and offers reader to spend the night in his room
length: mediumish
rating: PG
warnings: none
!! NOT MY GIF !!
MASTERLIST
You get out of the Uber you took to get here from LAX. You thank the driver and get your suitcase out of the trunk of his car. You drag your suitcase and dufflebag into the hotel that you plan in staying at tonight. It’s about five and the lobby is kind of packed. The parking lot was pretty full. You get in line at the desk behind a couple and their child.
The desk receptionist hands the couple a key and they walk off. You approach the desk with a smile and say, “Hi, my name is Y/N L/N and I booked a room here for one night.” The desk receptionist nods and types on the computer.
She makes a face and says, “I’m sorry, Miss L/N but that was our last room available.”
Confused, you say, “I called three days ago and made a reservation for a room.”
“I am all out of rooms tonight, I apologize,” she says. “If you’d like to stay and wait in case someone checks out then you can. I thought we had more than one room available for tonight.”
With a sigh, you open your mouth to say something until you hear someone go “Y/N?” behind you. You turn your head to see Charlie Gillespie standing behind you. You blink at him. You haven’t seen him since he broke up with you almost two years ago after a three year relationship. His hair has gotten longer and he’s gotten ... cuter.
You say, “Charlie, wow. It’s been a long time.”
Charlie approaches you and asks, “Are you staying here tonight?”
“I was going to but they just gave away the last room when I called three days ago reserving a room,” you say. “Why are you staying here?”
He says, “I flew in from Canada yesterday and have been staying here until my friend gets back from Canada so I can stay at his place. Wait, did you say that they don’t have anymore rooms?” You nod. “You can stay with me tonight. I have a second bed in my room that you can use.”
With a smile forming on your lips, you say, “Thank you, Charlie.” The desk receptionist hands you a key to Charlie’s room and the two of you take the elevator up to the fourth floor.
When you’re on the elevator, you take a second to look at the man next to you. His hair was much shorter than it is now. He’s wearing a blue and white button-up shirt that’s a little big on him and the top three or four buttons are undone, revealing his chest. He wears khaki shorts and converse sneakers.
The elevator dings and you get off with Charlie, who leads you down the hallway to his hotel room. He uses his key to let you both in and he lets you walk in first. You look around the room. The bed he probably slept in last night is a mess and isn’t made. There’s a shirt thrown over a chair at the little circular table. A coffee mug sits on the table between the beds.
“It’s a little messy but I wasn’t expecting company,” Charlie says, closing the door behind you. “Sorry.”
You smile and say, “It’s okay. It’s not like you need to impress me or anything.”
Charlie chuckles a bit and says, “I can run and grab us some food while you unpack. I know you probably had a long flight and probably need real food.”
“Yes, please,” you say. “Are there any McDonald’s around here? Or Taco Bell?”
He grabs his wallet and asks, “Your usual from either?” You nod in response. “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes then.” Charlie leaves the room and you sit on the neatly made bed.
Sometimes you don’t remember why your relationship with Charlie ended. He’s a sweetheart, even after not seeing you for two years.
Your mind wanders while you unpack some of your clothes, putting them in an unused drawer. You check the minifridge to see what Charlie has. He just has a few cans of soda and a few water bottles. You sigh and sit back down on your bed.
Charlie walks in moments later with a Taco Bell bag and two drinks. He sets everything down on the little table and says, “Three soft shell tacos, Nacho Fries, and a Baja Blast. After all this time, I still know your regular at Taco Bell.”
With a laugh, you get up and say, “It’s not that hard to remember three soft shell tacos, Nacho Fries, and a Baja Blast. But thank you, Charlie.”
He smiles as you take your food, your drink, and a few napkins before sitting with your legs cross on your bed.
“What do the channels look like here? Any good ones?” you ask, opening one of your tacos.
Charlie shrugs and says, “There’s HBO we can watch. I know know what movie is on right now. Let’s check though.” He plops down on his bed with his Crunchwrap Supreme and his own Baja Blast. He grabs the remote and scrolls to HBO. He puts the channel on and you recognize the movie as Five Feet Apart. You look at Charlie and he switches to a static filled channel. “Not that one.”
Five Feet Apart was the movie you and Charlie watched the day before your relationship with him ended. You saw it in the movie theater a few weeks after it came out. You haven’t been able to watch it since.
Quickly, Charlie scrolls through the guide and puts on Friends. “This is a good compromise,” you tell him. “We both love Friends.”
“It’s one of the greatest shows ever,” Charlie says enthusiastically.
You laugh and say, “You made me watch this show so many times when we were together. The theme song always got stuck in my head after we watched it.”
Charlie swallows the bite of his Crunchwrap that he took before he asks, “Do you know how much Grey’s Anatomy you made me watch?” You laugh. “We’re even, Y/N.”
After swallowing a bite of your taco, you say, “You made me watch un ungodly amount of Friends, Charlie. It was everyday. I only made you watch Grey’s on Thursdays when it aired.”
He chuckles and says, “Okay, you got me there. You made me watch a lot of TikToks though, Miss L/N. You spent hours showing me videos.”
“You were laughing so I didn’t stop!” you say, jumping to your defense. “Remember that one time we tried making a TikTok by dancing to Obsessed by Mariah Carrey. It took us hours because you couldn’t learn the moves.”
Your ex laughs and says, “I did learn the moves eventually though. I still remember them.”
You finish your taco and says, “I wanna see this. Show me.”
Charlie smiles and gets off the bed. He stands in front of you and starts to do the Obsessed dance from TikTok. You laugh as you watch how badly he does the dance.
“For a musician, you have no rhythm,” you tease.
He sits back down on his bed with a sigh as he says, “For a small person, you eat a lot. I don’t know where it goes.”
With a laugh, you say, “I have no idea where it all goes either.”
It feels nice to laugh and talk with Charlie. Neither of you have spoken to each other since you broke up in late 2019. Just seeing him again has made you really happy. You didn’t think you’d see him again. He’s still his crazy self that he was years ago.
Both of you finish and you sit back against the headboard of your bed with a pillow behind you. You’re watching and laughing with Friends even though you’ve seen this episode a thousand times.
Charlie sudden asks, “Do you remember why we broke up?”
You look over at Charlie, who’s laying in the same position that you are, and say, “We just grew apart after high school. You moved down here part time after you graduated and I still had a few months left.” Charlie graduated early, you still had six months left. You were 17 when you and Charlie started dating at the beginning of your senior year of high school. He had just turned 17 right before the school year started. You were 20 when the relationship ended and Charlie was just about to turn 21. It wasn’t quite three years when you broke up but it was close.
He says, “I tried to make it work with us, Y/N. You know that right? Between living down here and acting, I did try.”
“I know you did,” you tell him, sitting up and looking at him. “It just got tough for both of us. We ended things on good terms.”
Charlie nods and says, “We did.”
You blink and ask, “What have you been doing since we broke up? Focusing on music, I hope.”
With a little laugh, he says, “I was on Netflix.”
Almost surprised, you say, “I didn’t know you were on Netflix, Charlie! That’s incredible. Was it a show or movie?”
“A show,” he says. “It’s called Julie and the Phantoms. We’re still waiting to be picked up for a second season but we trending in the top ten for a little bit on there after the show dropped in September last year.” Charlie tells you all about his time on set. He tells you about the show too, and you’re happy to hear that he was able to do two of the things he loves to do while being on the show.
You smile and ask, “Can I hear a song from the show? I know you have a guitar somewhere in this room. You never go anywhere without one.”
Charlie laughs and says, “You’re right.” He gets up and opens the closet door, pulling out a guitar he has stashed away in there. You laugh and shake your head. You know him too well sometimes.
He sits at the end of your bed and you cross your legs, looking at him. He pulls the guitar out of it’s case and he grabs a pick. He tunes the guitar before he looks at you.
“The song I’m about to play is song I wrote with my co-star, Madi,” he says. “It’s called Perfect Harmony. I may or may not have been kind of thinking of you when coming up with the lyrics.”
You smile and say, “Awe, I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Charlie.”
A laugh leaves Charlie’s lips as he begins to play the chords.
Step into my world Bittersweet love story about a girl Shook me to the core Voice like an angel, I've never heard before
As he plays, you sway to the music. You smile, having always enjoyed hearing his voice and watching him play guitar. He’d spend hours practicing or writing songs and you’d sit outside whatever room he was in or sit beside him while he sang and played.
Charlie looks at you occasionally as he plays, almost like he’s singing to you.
You set me free You and me together is more than chemistry Love me as I am I'll hold your music here inside my hands
You watch him intently, the smile never leaving your face as he plays. Hearing his voice again makes you so happy.
I feel your rhythm in my heart, yeah-yeah You are my brightest, burning star, woah-woah I never knew a love so real (So real) We're heaven on earth, melody and words
As he finishes up the song, you stop swaying and you look at him. Charlie finishes and he looks at you. He laughs a bit and says, “And that’s Perfect Harmony.”
“It’s beautiful,” you tell him. “And I’m not just saying that because you kind of wrote the song while thinking about me. I think it’s really good, Charlie. You’re so talented.”
Charlie’s face gets a little flustered and he says, “I’m just decent at guitar and decent at singing.”
You say, “You wouldn’t have landed a huge Netflix role if you weren’t crazy talented, Charlie. You know that right?”
He packs up his guitar and says, “You don’t have to lie to me like we’re still dating, Y/N.” Charlie gets up and puts his guitar back in the closet he took it about from. You get up and walk over to him.
When he turns around, he jumps a bit, startled that you were right there. You stare up at him and say, “I’m telling you right now that you are insanely talented. I’m face to face with you now so you can’t tell me that I’m lying.”
After a moment of staring up into Charlie’s eyes, he takes a step toward you. Your heart begins to race in your chest and you take a deep breath. You feel his fingers touch your hand and butterflies erupt in your belly. His callused fingers intertwine with yours and you gasp.
“Can I kiss you?” Charlie suddenly asks.
You nod slowly, tilting your head up. It’s been so long since Charlie’s kissed you, and you always loved his kisses. Whenever you were upset, he’d kiss your forehead or your cheek or your neck and you’d feel better almost immediately.
Charlie’s free hand comes up to your face, cupping your cheek. He leans down and ghosts his lips over yours hesitantly. You lean your head up as Charlie becomes more sure and crashes his lips to yours. You gasp softly before kissing him back. The kiss is slow and soft as you both take in the moment.
In the two years apart, you’ve never lost feelings for Charlie. You tried to date but it never worked out because you never were able to get over the only man you ever really loved. Being able to hold his hand and kiss him again feels heavenly.
Both of you stand like this for a few moments before you pull back, looking up at Charlie. He looks down at you and asks, “How long will you be in Los Angeles?”
You say, “I’m moving into my new apartment tomorrow. I just flew in a day early.”
He smiles and asks, “So you’re here permanently?”
“I’m here permanently,” you say, smiling. “So if you’re willing to try the relationship thing again then-”
Charlie cuts you off with another kiss, this one rougher than the last. You laugh as Charlie pulls back, saying, “Are you kidding? I’d love to try the relationship thing again. The only reason I’m staying with my friend is because I’m looking for a new apartment too.”
With a huge smile on both your faces, you wrap your arms around Charlie’s neck. You hug him tight and say, “Looks like we ended up finding our way back to each other.”
“Thank God,” Charlie says against your ear. You laugh.
You spend the night wrapped around Charlie in some way until you begin to fall asleep.
As you doze off to sleep, you hear Charlie begin to sing softly.
The truth is finally breaking through Two worlds collide when I'm with you Our voices rise and soar so high We come to life when we're In perfect harmony
A smile forms on your face as you snuggle against Charlie’s side, falling asleep in his arms.
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emwritesstuff · 3 years
Text
as the world caves in | ch. 5 | bucky barnes x reader
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synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.
You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.
But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.  
This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode four. Thread carefully!
masterlist | AO3
notes: I was going to make it only one chapter with the plot of episode four but it ended up HUGE, so I'm splitting this one in two. I’m posting the next one very very soon (probably tomorrow), just need to finish reviewing it sksksk
(warnings: mentions of death, gunshots, blood) (word count: 4K)
five: funeral
Ayo considered you for a moment, then turned to Bucky. “Eight hours. Do not forget.”
You exhaled slowly after she was gone, allowing yourself to return to a more relaxed state.
“You know Ayo?” Bucky said, after he made sure the door was well closed.
Sam mused from behind you.
“And you speak Xhosa!”
“When King T’Challa opened Wakanda to the world, I ended up leading the relations between our countries from our side. Learning the language was the least I could do.” You shrugged, smiling fondly when you remember the awkward phase where you still mispronounced everything, and how astoundingly lenient the King had been during it.
“Accomplished. It was sweet of you to defend me, at least.”
You raised an eyebrow at the glass of water you’re drinking, grateful that Zemo didn’t speak the language. If only he knew.
Well, you had a feeling he would. Eight hours. T-minus-fifteen.
“Hey, you shut it. No one is defending you. You killed Nagel.” Sam bit at Zemo, and you put down your water and took your phone.
It had been blowing up since the signal returned after your flight to Latvia, every single person who ever had your contact was looking for you. Understandably. It was your first “vacation” in a long time.
You swiped the notifications away, and your eyes met Bucky’s while Sam and Zemo squabbled.
“You shouldn’t be good at that. It’s not fair.”
“It’s just a phone, Buck.” You smirk up at him, and a corner of his lip tugs upwards in response. “And I’ve been around long enough to know how to deal with the ever-changing technology.”
“Does that mean you’re the older one now? I’ve been frozen.”
“Do I get older privilege?” You asked, not looking up from the screen. The news feed caught your attention, and you were quick to scroll past the one talking about The Winter Soldier’s appearance in Madripoor.
“…No.” Bucky pushed his bottom lip forward, shaking his head. You bit your lip to refrain yourself from telling him just how much of a child he was, but couldn’t hide your grin.
The next headline made the grin fall out of your mouth, it being replaced by a frown. You slid the phone to Bucky, you two sharing a concerned look as soon as he read it too.
“Sam. Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.”
You rubbed your temples and started pacing as Bucky explained to the other two men the situation. Three dead. Eleven wounded. Your heart wrenched, and you pressed a fist to your chest when you imagine how dire the things have to be for that to had become the latest desperate measure.
Wars have civilian casualties. People are bound to be caught in the crossfire. You knew this. You’d seen it. This was a deliberate attack, and it was a different time and conjecture, but you felt almost the same as you did when you walked through the rubble made of Europe, 80 years ago.
Seeds for a new war. You’d hoped you wouldn’t get to see it sprout again.
You finally looked up as Zemo questioned the three of you about having the will to complete the mission.
“She’s just a kid.”
You moved to rest a hand on Sam’s shoulder, but in the end, you might have been more looking to ground yourself than anything. He nodded at you either way, and you could see Bucky’s eyes on you from your peripheral.
“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there. You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist. The very concept of Super Soldier will always trouble people.” Zemo spoke with certainty, as if he was a professor and the three of you his pupils.
“I doubt she sees things that way.” You raised your finger as soon as he opened his mouth to retort. “Not everyone has the chance to be studying politics and understand how revolutionary movements can become extremism. Most people are just fighting to get to see another day.”
You wondered if Baron Helmut Zemo would ever understand that, the struggle. The uncertainty that wakes up with you and goes to sleep when you do, only to pose itself the next morning.
“It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.” His next line seemed to be enough of an answer. You let your hand slide off Sam’s shoulder, realizing you had it in a tight grip the whole time, and resumed your pacing.
You doubted Karli Morgenthau had much chance to reflect on the long-term consequences of her mobilization. She was helping people, people who needed things right away; she was providing immediate relief. The world only had given violence in return.
“She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her. Or she kills you.”
“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The Serum never corrupted Steve.” Bucky retorted, but that obviously wasn’t enough to shake Zemo’s convictions.
The ache in our chest grew just a tad stronger, and you sank on the large sectional couch; Bucky seemed to have sensed your wariness, because soon enough he was bumping knees with you on the empty seat to your left. He radiated irritation, squared shoulders and head thrown back.
You laced your arm with his, nodding along with Sam as he talked about his aunt, understanding his plan when he reasoned that they might be doing a funeral ceremony for Donya. Bucky seemed to have loosened it up a little, and you agreed with him. It was worth a shot.
“You doin’ okay?” Bucky whispered, adjusting his arm so yours could have more room.
You raised your eyes at Zemo, stopping for a few seconds to observe the golden embroidery of the couch behind Bucky’s head before looking at him.
You squeezed his bicep. You mustered a small, strained smile.
Bucky’s eyes did not leave yours the entire time, two pools of blue and warmth and comfort that made you ache with how much you’d missed them all of these years.
“Jus’ fine.”
Bucky nodded.
“Liar.”
You flicked his ear with your free hand, which made him grunt. You giggled as Bucky shook his head and muttered something about you being such a child, and you could feel your nervousness easing up.
“Don’t be so grumpy, old man.”
---
You parted ways as Sam, Bucky and Zemo went to the displacement camp, and you went to the GRC office in Riga in search of information. You hadn’t been seen with them yet, so you took the chance of still being considered just a diplomat on a trip, seeking to maybe be of assistance in trying times.
It hadn’t been the most productive of mornings. The people at the office knew as little as you did of Donya Madani, or any of the other displaced people, which was appalling at the least. All they had was some half-assed records of when the camp had been formed, and that was months ago. Who knew how many people had joined by then. No wonder the Flag Smashers were at large, with more people joining and supporting the cause every day.
John Walker and Lemar Hoskins walked through the building’s doors, just as you were ready to leave. Hoskins recognized you immediately, whispering something to the new Captain America before both men approached you.
You shook their hands graciously, but your eyes remained on the door, you not wanting to waste precious time with the two. Especially Walker, who seemed to wear the shield on his back like it was a badge of honor, or even a safe-conduct to back up his moves.
It didn’t sit right with you, and not just because the man who wielded the shield before him was unreplaceable to you, and the man who stood before you seemed to have been handpicked to step inside Steve’s shoes, same size and all. His height, his built, his set jaw, the blue eyes, the blonde hair; as far as looks went, the perfect impersonator. It was the way he carried himself that set you off though, proud of himself and his own privilege. And you had barely any interaction with him aside from watching him perform in front of cameras, and, well, now.
“I’m very sorry gentlemen – but I should get going. This detour of my vacation is already on borrowed time.”
Hoskins nodded solemnly, but Walker took another step towards you. “I know about your previous work with Steve, it would be nice to have you on your side too.”
“Like I said, I’m off duty. Try not to make a mess out of it.” The lie slips off your lips easily, and you offer them an apologetic smile before turning to leave.
“There’s some Avengers on the hunt for the Flag Smashers too.”
Hoskins’ voice stopped you in your tracks, and you studied the two, wondering just how much they actually knew.
“Just think about it, okay? If you’re gonna help someone, make sure you’re helping the right people.”
That’s exactly what you were doing, but you weren’t about to tell him that.
“Hoskins. Cap. Have a nice day.” You nodded at them, not looking behind you as you take off to the cobblestone streets.
---
Sam and Bucky turned to watch you when arrived back at Zemo’s condo, closing the door gently behind you.
“Nothing.” You answered before they could ask, shaking your head slightly. From the defeated way they were sank on that couch, you assumed they were met with dead ends as well. “And Walker’s here, so expect things to get complicated.”
“You met with Walker?” Bucky asked, his jaw tensing up as he looked up at you.
“More like he met me. Offered me a job.” You chuckled humorlessly at the irony of it. Apparently you were now known for getting Steve out of trouble, and not for getting into it with him. How the tables turn. “He’s lacking intel as much as we are though.”
You threw your coat on the coffee table, and watched it slip down to the floor unimpressed. Bucky dipped to pick it up, draping it over the back of the couch while shaking his head and grumbling under his breath. Sam giggled, earning himself a glare.
Zemo approached your group with a tray of steaming tea. Bucky focused his glare on him.
“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky narrowed his eyes, a taunting tone to his voice.
Zemo paused, and his eyes jumped from Bucky, to Sam, to you, and the ground. The mood is restless, charged with tension, ready to spark like an open wire at the edge of water.
The Sokovian visibly relaxes his posture when he bends down to serve himself tea. “The funeral is this afternoon.”
It wasn’t not surprising to you that he was withholding information, though it was bold. His confidence was baffling, if anything.
“You’re on thin ice, Zemo.” You narrow your eyes at him, and he offers you a small, lofty smile.
Bucky looked at you and nodded before reminding Zemo of the Dora Milaje and demanding he kept talking.
“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli.” He retorts to Bucky and hums, shaking his head. “There’s still much I want to know, including why an American diplomat is tagging along for an altercation against a group of Super Soldiers.”
Zemo looked at you, inspecting your form as you leaned over a tiled column. He lingers on, but you know you have the higher ground. You don’t look the part of super soldier, in the way like the Flag Smashers don’t also. It’s advantageous, it gets you to blend in with the rest of world. You were aware that Zemo has been suspicious ever since you walked through the heavy wooden doors the first time, though, and he was trying to carve information out of you through veiled threats.
“I prefer to keep my leverage.”
This seemed to spur Bucky on. He got up from the couch, stalking towards Zemo in a casual gait, only to grab the teacup from the other man’s grasp and throw it violently at another column.
Your breath hitched.
“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?”
It sounded almost alien to you, the venom that dripped from Bucky’s words. You definitely hadn’t kept that in your memories of him, and you remind yourself that Bucky was no longer just that gallant boy from Brooklyn, he had more wars and baggage than anyone should carry.
So did you.
Sam got to Bucky before you could get your legs to move. “Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”
As if on cue, Zemo tilted his head upright.
Sam retreats to make a call, whacking Bucky on the shoulder as he left the room. The sound makes you shift, and you walked forward to put yourself between him and Zemo.
“Thin fuckin’ ice.” You snarl. Bucky disengaged by leaning on his heels.
“Want some cherry blossom tea?”
You huffed and nudged Bucky’s waist to prompt him to follow you, wanting nothing more to get him – and yourself – away from Zemo before disaster ensued. He still held the information you needed, though his bargaining chips were running out.
You had the distinct feeling that he knew that too.
“No, you go ahead.”
The room you found yourselves next is small, but just as luxurious as the rest of the apartment, with thick embroidered cushions littering a daybed and stained glass on the windows, casting colorful rays of light over the floor.
“You won’t go home if I ask you to, will you?” Bucky asked, and you chuckled.
“Absolutely not.”
A pained little sound left Bucky’s throat, and you sat down on the daybed to face him. He was leaning against the wall, eyebrows knitted.
“It’s like you don’t know me at all, Buck.”
“I do. That’s why I’m worried.” You rolled your eyes at him, making him look away from you, jaw clenched.
You sighed. “Bucky. I’m a highly trained super soldier.” Retired, too, and probably rusty, but you decided to not put that thought on his head. “I have more field experience than you, I bet. Don’t trouble yourself too much.”
His shoulders sagged, and you raised your hand to smooth the collar of his jacket, like you’ve done a million times before, back when you were still only a girl, and he was only a boy. The familiarity in those acts of intimacy covered you like a warm blanket, and you caught yourself wondering if Bucky felt the same.
“I worry about you too, you know. Why I’m here.”
Bucky turned his head to look at you, eyes roaming over your face. “How much did Sam tell you about Madripoor?”
“All of it, I think.”
There was torment in his eyes, that he tried concealing by looking at the floor. He nodded curtly, and the gesture propels you to leap forward and hold his face in your hands.
“Not worried like that.” You knit your eyebrows together, speaking firmly at him. “Worried about you throwing yourself into another fight. And losing you to it, again. So here I am, James, and stop trying to get rid of me.”
He either crashed into you or you into him, you’re not sure, but it barely mattered. Bucky had his arms firmly around you, his forehead resting on your shoulder. A hug that came eight decades too late, making you have to blink tears away.
“Don’t wanna lose you again too.” Bucky mumbled into your hair, and you squeezed him just a little bit tighter.
“You won’t. M’ here.”
I’m here. I’m here. You believed it, because you knew yourself. Keeping away this long, because you knew that once you were with him, you wouldn’t be leaving.
You hoped Bucky believed it, too. You’d tell him over and over, just in case.
The moment was short lived, though, coming to an end the when Sam knocks on the door. You pry yourself apart from him like a band-aid, and the door opens, leaving you and Bucky to compartmentalize and get ready for the next steps in your mission with your backs turned to each other.
“You guys good?” Sam asked, looking from you to Bucky, and you groaned internally at the sight of the slight curl at the corner of his mouth.
It’s not like that, Sam.
“Yeah. Are you?”
He quirks his brow. You quirk yours. His smirk is more out in the open, now.
“C’mon, old guard, we have a funeral to attend.”
You and Bucky shoot him a double glare and follow him back to the living room, then out to the cobblestone streets. Sam specifically said no weapons, no doubt intending to keep things civil, but you strapped a knife to your boot anyway.
Bucky smirked at you when he caught you red handed and showed you the handle of his own knife secured at his hip. It’s funny, how among so many things that haven’t changed at all, remaining intact as if eternized in marble, so many other things did.
It’s the caution. Having a plan B, C, D, up to plan Z. It’s knowing every possible exit points when you enter a room, and it’s strapping a knife to your body even if you’re going on a mission of peace.
You wanted to think that the years made to fade most of your scars, but the smallest things reminded you that faded didn’t mean gone. The weight of the blade on your left foot was doing that, as you walked through the streets of Riga beside Bucky, Sam and Zemo.
“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.”
John Walker and Lemar Hoskins jogged down the steps in your direction. Bucky opened his arms in irritation.
“Ah! How’d you find us now?”
It wasn’t really a question.
“Come on. You think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Hoskins questioned rhetorically back, and his eyes land on you. You raised your eyebrows at him. “Y/L/N.” He didn’t sound terribly surprised.
“No more keeping us in the dark. You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” Walker’s voice nearly overlapped Hoskins’, and his eyes traveled from Zemo to you.
“He did that himself, technically.” Bucky quipped, and shifted to your side slightly.
“I thought you were on vacation.” Walker sneered, making you shrug. You waved idly at the buildings.
“What? I’m sightseeing.”
“Oh, this better have an unbelievable explanation—” He raised his arms, taking a couple steps in your direction, but you didn’t budge.
You were resigned to simply rest your hands at your hips and wait for his temper tantrum to be over, but Sam clapped him on the chest and commanded him to not make things weird. Walker simmered down enough, which makes you beam proudly at Sam.
“I know where Karli is.”
You’d never be caught dead saying that out loud, but thank heavens for Zemo.
The new Captain America insisted on leading the action and turning it into a hostile one. You couldn’t stop staring at the shield on his back while he strutted ahead and turned, arguing with Sam about whether or not attempting to reason with Morgenthau was a good idea. She was indeed dangerous, but the echo of Sam saying that she was only a child earlier filled your ears.
It was risky, but Sam wasn’t reckless. You believed in him wholly.
“Is that why you roped a diplomat into this? There’s still time to change sides and save your job, Y/L/N.”
You didn’t doubt John Walker could and would get you to lose your job position, but you were aware of that possible outcome the minute you flew yourself to Latvia. That was the kind of inconvenience your future self would have to deal with. Sam looked at you for a brief second, forehead creasing with worry.
“Don’t threaten her, Walker.” Bucky warned him, and it was like you were fighting off a gang of bullies in an alleyway back home again.
“You’ll let him do this? Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier, alone?” Walker pressed on, holding Bucky’s stare.
“He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”
You highly doubted that. These men were as hard-headed as you were, but you didn’t buy into the whole we-aren’t-friends thing. It was evident, in the way they checked on each other from time to time, and had each other’s backs.
“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is right in my wheelhouse.” Sam stepped forward, and Walker was quick to resume the argument. He was desperate for a win, any win, and you caught yourself wondering if he was truly ready for the role he was given.
Hoskins seemed to be the voice of reason he lacked. Walker gave in, reluctantly, and motioned at Zemo.
“We’ll deal with you later.”
You tapped your feet impatiently.
“Boys, there’s no time for this.”
“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.”
There was a small girl waiting by the building in front of you. She guided the group to an abandoned factory of some sort, and Zemo announced that Karli was inside, and not long after he was being handcuffed to an iron vault door.
Sam stopped himself in his tracks while Walker manhandles the man, and you and him shared a look.
“You wanna come with?”
“No. It’s two against one, might set her off.” You shook your head, turning to look at Walker as he paced around. “You got this, Sam.”
Sam nodded at you and went in.
Ten minutes. You listened attentively for any signs of struggle, hoping things would go smoothly. Your knife felt heavy inside your shoe. Bucky seemed to be focused on the same task next to you.
John Walker grew more anxious by the minute, and you stopped listening to watch him pace around.
“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky sighed.
“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”
Rich, coming from him, who seemed keen on doing just that to everyone else. Walker squared his shoulders and marched on, Bucky having to stand on his way to stop him. You got off your post on the stairs and blocked the rest of the way. Walker glared at you, then at him.
“This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.”
Of course, he would consider the serum more of a blessing than the true curse it was. You exhaled sharply, struggling to keep your emotions in check, watching Bucky’s back as Walker continued.
“Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?”
You could almost see Bucky’s resolve wavering.
“Bucky, don’t.”
“You really want a casualty that big, Ambassador?”
“You need to cool down, Walker. Sam is—”
You didn’t get to finish, because Walker is barreling his way through you and towards Karli Morgenthau. Hoskins is pushing you and Bucky back as you try to get to Sam and the girl before things blew up even further.
“Walker you can’t—”
“Karli Morgenthau, you’re under arrest.”
Karli knocks Walker down, and Bucky managed to shove Hoskins away to run after her.
“Y/N, ten minutes!” Sam said as the both of you ran off to join the pursuit.
“I know, Sam! There’s no reasoning with this guy!” You groaned. “I’ll go this way, cover more ground.”
Sam nodded, his concerned expression mirroring yours.
You split up as you take off to your right, passing through archways and enclosed cubbyholes, finding nothing but old industrial machinery and junk.
Gunshots.
You counted four, at least.
You managed to pick up the source of the sound after the third discharge, somewhere at the lower level of the building. It would take you forever to find your way down the traditional way.
You landed on the ground floor with a soft thud, and couldn’t help but grin as you look up at the window you had just jumped from. Not bad, though the impact was unexpected and almost knocked the wind out of you.
The sound of smashed glass prompted you to snap back to reality and run into the basement of the factory, the place holding massive iron pipes and boilers. Zemo had his back to you, gun in hand.
A flash of red curly hair poked from behind the last pipe. You tiptoed your way to Karli, crouching next to her. She was clutching her side, blood seeping through her fingers. The receiving end of the shots.
Karli looked at you with terrified eyes, then up, and your gaze followed hers to a man you didn’t recognize, but one of her friends without doubt.
“Get out of here, kid. Go.”
She wasted no time, clambering up the stairs and disappearing through a metal door.
Faster than you and Zemo could acknowledge each other’s actions, he was hit on the heat with flying metal, sending him unconscious to the floor. John Walker stepped into the light.
“Morgenthau?”
“Gone. I was too late.”
Walker appeared to believe you, or he didn’t care, eyeing with interest the shards of fine glass littered on the floor. Zemo had smashed every single vial of serum before being hit with the shield. You kneel next to him and check his pulse.
“Is he…?”
“No. Just out.” You breathed. Walker let out a disappointed hum, leaving you to attempt to waken Zemo by yourself.
Bucky and Sam entered through the door that Karli had escaped through, and Hoskins through the doorway you came in before.
“What did we miss?”
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faunusrights · 3 years
Text
yeah, all i got is this belly button lint: a happy huntresses short fic
wrote this real quick because i love thinking about the random crap fiona has in her Inventory(tm). also i just like thinking about these clowns in general, so,
=
"Okay, so, what's actually in your Semblance right now?" Joanna asks one day in third year, when Fiona and May have sneaked away to Robyn's dorm to lose at cards and help edit her new batch of flyers promoting union creation in the workplace. Fiona had given a couple a look and accepted them as good enough, but May is weirdly exacting about her standards and is currently trying to convince Robyn to nudge the text headers over by ten pixels to the right. That's why, as she's sat on the floor and wrapped up in the drama of watching Robyn try and slowly fail to ignore May's insistent pleas for her to boot up her editor, Fiona's caught just a little bit off-guard by the question.
"My Semblance?" she asks, and Joanna nods all serious-like from her place on the bunk above Robyn. Joanna often looks very serious, because she suffers from what Robyn calls resting thoughtful bitch face, so sometimes it's hard to gauge how actually serious about something she really is. "I mean, it's probably a mess in there right now."
"I keep forgetting you actually use it like storage space," Robyn adds cheerfully, having now progressed onto shoving May away from her laptop computer every time she tries to creep closer. "Since most Semblances are, y'know, combat-only things or like... special occasions, I guess. And yet here you are, telling people you really don't need a bag for all your groceries!"
It is fun to flex on all the people struggling to carry like six bags to their car or their home, and Fiona preens. "Yeah, it's nice. I mostly keep things in it that I'd wanna have in an emergency, but it's been a while since I last sorted through it, so, who knows what garbage I've put in there."
"Tell me Robyn's braincell is in there too," May says imploringly, still trying to slide an arm around Robyn to get at the keyboard, but Fiona just shakes her head. She can't and won't be blamed for that particular disappearance any time soon. Instead, she rubs her hands together, scrunching up her face as she tests the edges of the Semblance. It's a funny thing, a Semblance like this--she never really has to think about it, but it's always just in reach, like this extra weight in her chest that she can totally forget about. It's strange to think about, so she often just doesn't.
"Okay," she starts, and she goes for the biggest item she can sense, which is an easy one to explain. In her hands materialises an acoustic guitar, worn and scuffed with age, and this attracts to attention of every girl in the room. "Well, this one's easy. This is my guitar, and honestly? If I ever leave it behind in the meatspace and don't pick it up on my way out the door, know that you've just seen my evil clone and you have to kill her."
Joanna blinks, and Robyn seems caught between asking about the guitar, the evil clone, and also the fact that Fiona insists on referring to the physical world as the meatspace. So, she does as Robyn does best, and settles on an expletive. "Shit! You play?"
"Been playing since I was... like seven? Something like that." Fiona shrugs, because she really can't be sure; her first vague memory of even seeing this guitar was a long time ago, her uncle telling her it used to belong to her grandmother who'd never managed to learn a damn thing on it. So, Fiona had taken up practice, if only because it was something for a little lowlands Mantellian Faunus to do during the long, cold polar nights and the endless sunshine of the midnight sun. "But, yeah, this is always on me in some form or another."
"You should've played it whilst we were on watch our last mission," May says, with a certain scowl that Fiona knows is 100% directed at their team leader, who is currently off doing... some sort of bullshit with their partner, no doubt. Gods, this team is a nightmare. "All those hours trying to stay awake so we could stare into nothing..."
"Sorry," Fiona says, and she means it. She'd intended to, but, well, she'd sort of chickened out. The echo in the mountains is kind of insane. "Next time?"
May nods, but Joanna cuts off whatever she's about to say next by waving her hands through the air like she can physically dissipate the conversation. "Okay, okay, cool, but now I gotta else you got hiding in there."
Re-compressing her guitar--and oh, is Fiona thankful that dematerialising and rematerialising it doesn't leave it out of tune--Fiona has a mental root around. "Uh, okay, so, we've got--"
In no particular order, she starts pulling things out: a pair of thick gloves for the brutal Solitas chill, an extra pair of socks (hugely understated by most, but never by Fiona), a ushanka that Robyn instantly cheers for, and a couple of jackets ranging from light windbreakers to thick furred jackets that feel like she's wearing a mattress around her ribs. Her Scroll and wallet are in there too, naturally, as are her keys and some extra ammunition, and she pulls out a load of old train tickets with a grimace. "Hm. I was meant to throw these away years ago."
"You're basically carrying around a wardrobe in there, then?" May asks in a way that'd maybe be a little teasing if she didn't look about as jealous as she sounds, but it becomes a thoughtful expression when Fiona shakes her head again.
"Bold of you to think I haven't got a whole pantry in here too," she says, and now Joanna looks very interested. "Check this out."
The first thing she pulls out is a gallon jug of clean water--endlessly fucking useful, she's found, especially when you're in some situation where you can't sit on your ass for an hour waiting for the water purification tablets to do their job--before pulling out a whole host of Atlesian MREs that she keeps around just in case shit really does hit the fan. Atlas rations are... not good, in a phrase, but she's owed them her life more than once, so, whatever.
"What dates are on those?" May quickly interrupts with a critical eye, trying to make out the printed numbers on the snow-patterned packets, and Fiona tosses her one if only to distract May's hands from trying to puzzle out Robyn's password when Robyn isn't directly paying attention.
"Things don't really degrade in my Semblance," Fiona admits. "I've tested it before on stuff with a short shelf-life, like cheese and milk, and honestly I can leave it in there for months and have it come out just as fresh as when it went in. Something to do with a sort of... internal stasis, I guess." Then, she adds, "One thing in my Semblance is a goldfish in a bowl, but he's part of a practical theory I'm running, so I can't materialise him for another fifteen years or so."
"That sounds very normal," Joanna says, and Fiona is glad she agrees as she barrels right over the inherent sarcasm.
As May agonises over finding the date, though, Fiona continues to unveil her pantry--there's plenty of snacks, like dried fruit and nuts and energy bars and chocolate, and when she reveals she carries extra for every member of her team and then some (then some in this instance being Robyn and Joanna, not that she'll admit it), Robyn looks delighted. "That's so sweet! Look at you, making sure nobody goes hungry. You're one in a million."
That's cute and very gay, but Fiona has a lot of stuff to be working through and so she keeps on going--there's a flask of coffee that, thanks to the maybe-stasis, is eternally hot, a bottle of dark Mantellian ale she keeps as, uh, moral support, and she blushes when she pulls out half an uneaten tuna sandwich. "I wondered where that went. Whoops."
May looks up from the MRE for a second, and then does a double-take as she takes in the sight of the very limp and sad-looking sandwich, made courtesy of the Atlas Academy cafeteria. "Wait! Isn't that the sandwich you accused me of stealing last month?!"
"Anyway!" Fiona says with a forced grin, quickly making it disappear back into the void where it can safely continue not existing. "I think the final thing in here is... wait."
She blinks, and suddenly in her hands are at least a hundred little booklets entitled The Pocket Guide to Communist Outreach, scattering right over the floor. Robyn yelps, and then reaches down the side of her bunk to pick them up. "Oh shit! I forgot I asked you to hold onto these! I thought we ran out, nice."
Joanna's face is in her hands, and May sighs long and hard before tossing the MRE back to Fiona with a distinctly pained expression.
"It goes out of date in a month," she notes with distaste, and Fiona just sucks it up without a word. She'll be thankful for it when they end up down a dark cave with no backup, but Fiona figures she'll sit on that one for a bit before being able to make the greatest told you so call in history. She can wait.
"So," she says, watching as May takes advantage of Robyn's momentary distraction to try and access her computer again. "I guess... do you wanna hear me play a song?"
Joanna watches as her partner leans too far over the side of the bunk, yelping as she nearly slams her head directly into the hard vinyl of the floor, and she grimaces. "Please do."
Grinning, Fiona finds her guitar again--somewhere buried, she mentally notes, beside the gallon of water but under the coats--and she slings the broad strap about her shoulders before settling it on her lap, crossing her legs tightly beneath herself before finding her place on the fretboard. After having not played since being back home, it relaxes her more than she'd ever realised it did. It helps to be surrounded by friends, though. Helps to be with family.
"I don't take requests," she adds, flatly, and Robyn laughs from her place on the floor before music fills the dorm, soft and deep and achingly familiar of a place far, far below.
But she's okay with calling this place home, too.
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honeypirate · 4 years
Text
Why You Should Never Eavesdrop
AHHH it’s my first ever Naruto fic!! Don’t hate me if it sucks
Kakashi x female reader.
I will soon branch out to write for like Genma and Izumo but I had to make my first fic for Kakashi since he was my first ever crush ever XD. I’m going to write a part two because this is a terrible place to end it. I just got excited and wanted to post this now lol
Naruto Masterlist
Of course you went after him. You wanted to see if everything was okay, he was your friend after all and you cared about him. But when you got lost in the trees looking for him, this was the last thing you expected.
You were a Jonin, masking your chakra was second nature and something you always did, which is why you were able to quietly and accidentally sneak up underneath them. Kakashi with his student, Sauske, in the tree, “you’re a little late to the game” you froze, should you run? Should you speak up? You held your breath so they wouldn’t hear you as you debated what you should do. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop but part of you was glad you were when you heard the words that came out his mouth next “everyone I care about is already dead”
You disappear quick after that, realizing it wasn’t a conversation you should be listening to. Also realizing that he didn’t think you were as close of friends as you did. You know about his past, his history, you know about it all, but you thought, stupidly, as you now realize, that you could be someone to him. “Ridiculous” you nutter to yourself as you take to the trees, running through them as far as you could go, far away from Kakashi.
Far as possible without leaving this village, was to the trees by the gate, it was always nice here, the clouds easier to see because it’s where there was the tallest tree and you loved to sit at the very top. You were disappointed in yourself, you were a shinobi for crying out loud! you never got so invested in your feelings before. You will not let your feelings interfere with your life. You needed to think and this was where you came when you needed space.
Kakashi didn’t even come in to your life until recently, you got back from a mission that lasted a few years, protection of a political family, now you were home after so long and just when you thought you’d be given a little time off, the Hokage told you he wanted you to be a sensei to some new young Genin. That’s what brought Kakashi into your life.
You knew him growing up, had mutual friends in the academy, but you’ve never talked to him directly. Until after one especially long day with your rowdy eleven year olds you decided to go get some ramen and de-stress. The only chair open was next to Kakashi at the bar, who wasn’t even eating anymore, he was reading his icha icha book while Naruto rambled on next to him about Sakura.
He knows when you arrived, felt you sit next to him, but he didn’t show any signs. He had a crush on you in school and when you were in ANBU at the same time, you never looked his way so he didn’t think you even knew about him. That was, until tonight.
You’re so fried right now, bags under your eyes from the missions you’ve been sent on and from teaching, plus, you don’t remember the last time you slept more than three hours a night. Given that, your filter when speaking to people is basically nonexistent.
You wait for your ramen to cool a little before eating it and your eyes wander over to the words on the page you can read over his shoulder. “This part was my favorite” you say “then the part at the end as well. Have you seen the poster for the new movie?” You ask and then turn your tired attention to your ramen, taking slow bites so you could enjoy it.
He’s glad his blush is hidden by his mask, “I’ve seen it” he says and you nod “I thought you would have. You’ve always loved those books” you say and then smile content with your ramen. “It looks like it’s going to be good” you say and he nods.
When you finish your meal you turn in your stool towards him, Naruto has been distracted by someone else he knows and so you’re not interrupting anything, “i liked that book the best” you say and push your empty bowl forward, leaning your elbow on the table and leaning your head on your hand to smile at him. You talked together about icha icha books and the movies, sharing your favorite parts and ways you thought it could be better. You talk so long that by the time you leave Naruto had already left.
He wouldn’t lie about the fact that your smile always made his heart race, no, he wouldn’t lie, but he wouldn’t tell the truth, either, if he was ever asked about it. “Goodnight y/n” he says and does his cute closed eye thing where you can tell he’s smiling. You feel your cheeks warm up in a blush but you don’t look away you place your money on the counter before hopping off from your stool “I’ll see you around Kakashi” you say and shove your hands in the pockets of your pants and walk out of the shop.
He watched you leave, a curious smile on his lips under his mask, you surprised him today and now he’s curious to know more about you. After that you somehow ran in to him every time you had ramen, and you talked every time for sometimes hours, before you knew it you grew close with him. You trusted him and believed he felt similarly to you.
It’s been a year since then, you felt like he was a good friend now and didn’t even consider it wouldn’t be the same for him. You were both called into the Hokage’s office for a mission together, you were hyped, it was going to be easy peasy, you’ll be back in three months and you’ll have more time with Kakashi. You were walking back home when you saw the fight on the roof of the hospital which led you to wanting to find Kakashi since you knew how he felt about his students, which led to you here, now in the tree tops, trying to get over your feelings and hide them like a true shinobi.
“There you are” a voice said behind you, a voice you knew well, “here I am” you said and made your face neutral before you turned around to look at him. “What’s going on?” You ask and meet his eye, tilting your head a little. You wanted to pretend nothing was wrong and act normal but you felt cold. Inside and out.
“We’re supposed to be leaving tonight?” He says and furrows his eyebrows. “Shit. I’m sorry Kakashi I lost track of time. Give me five minutes I just need to grab my pack” you say before disappearing, running back to your house to grab your bag that’s already been prepared, cursing under your breath for being so stupid for a second time today.
You’re glad that he’s never made you feel like you have to talk, you can run though the trees with him in silence and not be awkward. “Did you hear me? Y/n?” You finally realized he was talking to you and you looked over at him “what was that?” You said and he came to a stop, you following suit and stopping next to him. “I said we should stop for the night. We’ve been going for hours now. it’s probably after two am” he says and you nod “sounds good” he knows something is off but doesn’t press it “there should be a cave up ahead we can stay in” he says and takes off, you right behind him.
“I’ll take the first guard shift. Get some rest” you say as you finish setting up your bed, standing up and walking over to the entrance of the cave, the whole time not really even paying attention to Kakashi or anything he’s saying, if he’s even said anything you don’t really know. You sit at the entrance, your back to him as you keep your mind aware of everything out in the woods and unaware of the man behind you who’s staring at your back, the book in his hand forgotten about, as he keeps wondering why you’re acting weird.
After your guard shift is over you quietly make your way over next to where he’s sleeping, you place your hand on his shoulder and he wakes up instantly, his eye looking into yours. His hand reaches up to grab yours that’s still on his shoulder “oh sorry” you say and try to take it away but he doesn’t move his hand. You look back into his eye and raise your eyebrows, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he’ll ask the question you can see in his eye. He seems to make up his mind when he releases your hand and looks away, he goes to sit up and you clear your throat “like fifteen minutes ago I felt something off over to the east, but I couldn’t see anything with my Kekkei Genkai. It could be nothing but just in case” you say as you lay down on your back in your bed, using your arm to cover your eyes.
You’ve been on the road traveling for about a month now, you almost made it to your destination and once you were there you would deliver your message and then take a package back to the Hokage. You successfully shoved every feeling back into a tiny jar in your heart, now easier to pretend you never had them to begin with, although you acted a lot like you did when you were an ANBU. He’s noticed, of course he’s noticed, he notices everything about you, he has since you punched him once in the Chunin exams when you stole his scroll. He watched you now out of the corner of his eye as you run through the treetops, he missed how you used to laugh so easily with him.
You’re walking now, him a bit ahead of you, the sun has been down for a while “We can rest here since it’s a bit late or keep pushing until we get there, we could stay at an inn and have our meeting in the morning.” He matches your pace before he responds “second one is my choice” he says and you nod “we’re only about an hour out I’d guess” you say “yeah I’d bet you’re right” that was the last thing said for the rest of the walk. The lights of the city coming into view, your stomach growls for the first time in all these weeks when you pass by a ramen shop “come on” Kakashi says and walks through the door, you thanked every deity you could think of in that moment and then followed him in.
“Yummmm” You hummed over your steaming bowl, you felt like this was exactly what you needed. To warm your soul and let the unknown go. So what he doesn’t care about you. He’s just being a good Jonin and shinobi. It was fitting that it was ramen that helped you release your pent up emotions.
Kakashi was sitting across from you in the booth of the nearly empty restaurant, it was probably around 10 pm now and the only people in here other than you both were a few drunk men at a different table. “After we eat let’s get a room and a bath and we’ll meet the Kage in the morning” he says and you nod, your mouth full of noodles and your heart happier than it’s been these past few weeks. You were going to be yourself and be his friend no matter what, because you cared about him and that was all that mattered. ‘Everything will be fine.’ You think to yourself as you finish your bowl and meet his eye, smiling warmly at him. That just confused him even more. He was sitting here the entire time wondering how to talk to you about what’s going wrong and you just turn around and act normal again. What the hell. He’ll talk to you more about it later tonight.
“I’m gonna get a room at the inn down the road and then head to the bathhouse, you eat and we’ll meet up after” you say as you place enough money on the table for both of your meals before slipping out of the booth and out into the chilly night air. ‘Yea’ Kakashi thinks to himself ‘I’ll definitely have to talk to her about this later’
“Lucky you!” The person at the front desk says “it’s the last room” they hand you over your key and a string of curses go through your mind, you let go of your pent of feelings but that didn’t mean you wanted to be thrown right into intimate moments with him. You couldn’t do much about it now “do you have an extra mattress? I have a friend who needs a room as well and we might have to share” you say and frown, to which they chuckle amusedly at your unhappiness “yes we do! We’ll have one sent to your room” you nod “thank you. Where is the bathhouse?”
The cold night air is calming, you look up at the moon as you walk slowly down the road to the bathhouse, grateful to the inn keeper for the directions. Your hands in your pocket and your footsteps practically silent, just like your thoughts, surprisingly quiet for the first time in weeks. You felt a weight off your shoulders, like physical evidence of your letting go of your hard feelings. Finally coming to terms with your heart. You felt so relieved and you can’t wait to sink into the hot water so your muscles could feel the same kind of relief.
Strings of even more harsher curses run through your head as you read the sign on the bathhouse. It was co-ed. Open to all. Which means you’ll probably have to share a bath with your ninja partner. Just great. You took a deep breath and steeled your nerves before walking into the establishment. Maybe Kakashi would take his time or maybe he’d find another inn and go to bed right away. You sigh, knowing he’ll be here soon.
Luckily the bath was empty as you entered, you lowered your body into the hot water and sighed in happiness. You considered hurrying but now that your body is in the water you know you’ll stay as long as your body wants, no matter who showed up. You laid your head back and took a deep breath, feeling the hot water release the tension you’ve been holding, which was almost immediately replaced with new tension when you heard the door open.
Even though you knew who it was, you raised your left eyebrow, causing your eye to open lazily as you looked through the steam at the silver haired man. He gave you a slight nod before you closed your eye and focused on steadying your breathing. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but you knew if you saw him in this setting you’d have a heart attack and stop breathing. He’d never let you forget that either so you couldn’t let him know the affect he had on you, sure, you’ve accepted you’d never be anything more than work friends but that didn’t mean you were blind.
His body couldn’t relax in the hot water, he had no room and now he had to share a bath with you. How cruel could the universe be? The wet glint off your shoulders that peaked out of the water, your wet hair stuck to your neck, the way you looked so relaxed in the hot water, it all drove him wild. What done him in though, was the way you looked at him when he walked in, ‘sooo cute.’ He thought. This was exactly like a scene from his favorite book, it was everything he could just to keep his boner at bay. So
The sigh that left your lips as ran the warm wet washcloth over your neck, made his heart race, he couldn’t help but watch you. You don’t know what has happened, something in you snapped the longer he watched you wash your chest and shoulders, something compelled you and you didn’t fight it, you embraced it. “You want to help me wash my back or are you just enjoying the show?” You ask, your eyes still on the washcloth as it passes across your skin. His heart beat is hammering in his chest, that was the last thing he expected you to say but he couldn’t resist from moving slowly through the water and over to you, sitting behind you he reaches down and takes the cloth from you, slowly running it up your arm and over your shoulder.
Your heart is pounding in your ears, you sigh softly and your eyes flutter closed, tilting your head to the side as the cloth passes over your shoulder and neck. You pull your hair all to the front of your shoulder so your back was completely open and you hum contentedly as he begins to wash your back slowly, you lean forward when he gets midway so he could go lower if he wanted, your knees up on the side of the seats and your arms wrapped around your knees.
When you’re satisfied with his work you look over your shoulder at him with a smile before turning around to face him, looking into his eye as you take the cloth from him, you run the warm cloth up his arm starting from his wrist, when you get to his shoulder he breaks eye contact to turn around to allow you to wash his back as well. You wash his strong shoulders, leaving the cloth on one of them as you begin to massage his neck, kneading your fingers into his skin, working down his strong shoulders, kneading out knots and smiling every time he lets out of a relaxed, soft, moan. You massage down his back, working the muscles near his spine massaging in small circles with your thumbs to his lower back before running your finger tips up his back and across his ribs before grabbing the cloth and finishing washing him now that you were satisfied with how relaxed he looked. You set the cloth down to the side, softly running your finger tips across his shoulders before placing a feather kiss to the back of his neck. “Thank you for your help ‘Kashi” you whisper, finally breaking the silence, “if you don’t have a room, I’ll get another mattress and you can stay with me. Room 23.”
He was so relaxed he didn’t know you were gone until your words registered, who knows how long it’s really been, he thought he felt you kiss his neck but part of him believes he dreamed it. The longer this mission went the more confused he got.
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