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skelavender · 9 months

Text

“But you hate autopsies.” “No I don’t!” Mulder protests. Scully lifts an eyebrow. “Ok just because I almost passed out once–” “ Four times , Mulder.” “Okay, fine a couple times, but really, it was because I hadn’t eaten!”

read chapter three of heartbeats on ao3, or below the cut!

Mulder’s hand dances across Scully’s back as they step up onto Gianna Bishop’s porch. He tells himself it’s in case she slips on the wood in those death traps she calls heels, but he hasn’t seen her do that once, so it’s really just an excuse.

Scully rings the bell, and the door swings open immediately to reveal a middle aged woman with a concerned expression. Her eyes rake up and down the agents’ bodies before she asks, “Can I help you?”

Scully speaks before Mulder gets a chance to. “Gianna Bishop? Agents Scully and Mulder, FBI.” They both flash their badges. “Would we be able to come in for a second to speak with you?”

Her concerned expression deepens, “Oh, this is about Terry, isn’t it?”

Scully just nods.

Mrs. Bishop opens the door to them and guides them into the living room, where the agents settle on the couch across from the chair Mrs. Bishop chooses.

They’ve sat in thousands of living rooms in this same configuration. Usually, however, the person on the other side of the coffee table already knows that their loved one is dead. That’s one good thing about being a unit that travels to their cases: they aren’t usually around until a couple days after the fact, and don’t usually need to take on the burden of telling a mother that her son has died.

“Mrs. Bishop, I’m afraid we come bearing bad news.” Mulder opens. He fucking hates doing this. Why the hell did he volunteer for it.

“Terry’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, God.” She buries her face in her hands.

“How did you know? Did you think Terry was in trouble?” Scully inquires, leaning forward.

“I woke up early this morning, and had a feeling something horrible had occurred. It was like a fuzzy feeling in my chest. I knew Terry would be awake, he’s usually up late playing his games, but when I called, he didn’t pick up.”

“When was this?”

“Just after three this morning. I’ve been awake since.” She removes her face from her hands and sniffles, looking up at Scully. “Please, what happened to my son?”

“He was found in a park a couple hours ago. His injuries were similar to a series of attacks Agent Mulder and I are investigating.” Scully explains. “Do you know if he went out last night? Had you spoken to him about any plans yesterday?”

“Terry was over for dinner on Sunday, but that was the last I spoke to him.”

“Is it normal for you and Terry to go five days without talking?” Mulder asks.

“Yes. He’s very busy at school, but he always makes time to come back on Sundays, so it’s alright.”

“Do you know who might know where he was last night? Does he have a friend or roommate you have contact information for?”

“You’re best off talking to Hannah. I have her information somewhere but I… I don’t know where, it might take me a while to dig it up…”

“Would you be able to do that for us today? It’s imperative that we figure out where Terry was last night, so we can retrace his steps and find out what happened to him.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bishop.” Scully retrieves a business card and a pen from her jacket. “I’ll leave my card with you, and I’m writing down the local detective’s cell phone number for you to pass on to Terry’s friend, or in case you think of anything else that might help us.” She writes the phone numbers in her looping, Catholic school cursive and hands it over before she and Mulder rise.

“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Bishop.” Mulder reaches out to shake her hand. “And we’re so sorry for your loss.”

Mrs. Bishop’s eyes well up with tears and she moves her spare hand to cover her mouth, “Oh god, people are going to be saying that to me all the time, aren’t they?”

Mulder gives her a sympathetic smile, “Unfortunately, that seems likely. People never know what else to say.” The group makes it back towards the front door, and Mrs. Bishop shuts it behind Mulder and Scully.

They both pretend not to hear the sobbing as they descend the porch stairs.

***

When they get to the morgue, Scully is surprised to see Mulder turn off the car and get out with her.

“You’re coming in?” She asks over the roof of the car, surprised.

“Yeah, I might as well. Nowhere to go until Mrs. Bishop calls with an update on the guy’s friends.”

“But you hate autopsies.”

“No I don’t!” Mulder protests. Scully lifts an eyebrow. “Ok just because I almost passed out once–”

“Four times, Mulder.”

“Okay, fine a couple times, but really, it was because I hadn’t eaten!”

“Mhmm. And this has nothing to do with the fact that the last time you left me alone in a morgue I got hurt.” Mulder looks a little sheepish at that. Scully continues, this time her voice is softer, “I’ll be fine, Mulder. There are no so-called witches to attack me here.”

“And I’ll know that for sure if I stay.”

She takes a deep breath, “Fine,” she relents, “But I’m not waving smelling salts under your nose this time.” She starts to head inside.

Mulder catches up with her in two paces, despite her head start. “Not once have you had to use smelling salts on me, Scully, because not once have I passed all the way out!”

She laughs. “I think that by using the phrase ‘pass all the way out’ you’ve just proved my point.”

***

Scully has another man’s heart in her hands. It’s not an irregular occurrence, but she often finds herself struck by the concept, even after all these years of med school and autopsies. It used to keep a man moving. Now it sits quiet and still between her palms, at rest.

The local M.E. has been accommodating enough, but seems a little bitter about Scully swooping in and taking the only interesting case she would see this week. She’s been perfectly civil with Mulder though, chatting idly in the office while Scully slices and dices Terry Bishop.

“So you’re married?” Dr. Abigail asks. Scully can hear every word of her conversation with Mulder through the open door. A glace up would reveal Mulder leaning against an unused desk, his back to the window to the autopsy bay, and Dr. Abigail in the chair of her own desk.

“Yes, I got married a few months ago.”

“It’s a beautiful ring.” Abigail notes.

“It is. She picked it out, hers has the same pattern.”

“She’s alright with all the traveling?”

“She understands the demands of my job.”

“Understatement of the year” Scully murmurs into Terry Bishop’s chest cavity. She gently lifts the heart out.

“You miss her?”

Easy as breathing, Mulder replies, “Every second she’s not by my side.”

Halfway to the hanging scale and holding the propelling object of a human life, Scully freezes. Her mouth pops open slightly in shock and her head snaps in the direction of the office window to look at the side of Mulder’s head. He’s fiddling with the ring, a private smile on his face.

At first, she thinks he’s lying to protect their cover. Saying what one would expect from a newlywed. As far as she knows, neither of them have ever outright lied about their relationship, they’ve only even answered people’s questions in an evasive manner while barely skimming along the confines of the truth. But examining Mulder’s face, Scully doesn’t think he’s lying. It’s worse than that.

He’s telling the truth.

Scully tries not to look like she’s desperately in love with him.

She fails.

Whatever. She doesn’t think Terry Bishop will judge her too harshly.

***

Scully peels her gloves off and tosses them in the biohazard bin by the office door.

“All done?” Mulder asks, stepping off his position against the desk and towards his partner.

“What’d you find?”

“Well, his death was likely an accident. Terry Bishop was severely hemophiliac. Given the fact that no other victims have died, the wounds didn’t measure any deeper, and there’s no clear difference between Bishop and the other victims to suggest a copycat, I’d say that the perpetrators didn’t mean to kill him. They just cut his back like the rest of their victims, and he bled out because his blood couldn't clot correctly. It’s not an escalation, it was an unintentional death.”

“Well that sounds like good news, right?” Dr. Abigail asks.

Scully levels her with a disapproving look “Well I wouldn't say good, a man is still dead. But it’s reassuring that we have no evidence of escalation.” She turns to her partner, “Have you had a chance to check those message boards you found?”

“Yeah, they mentioned a bar called Lucky’s.”

“Some fortune it brought Bishop.”

Mulder scoffs, “Also, I hope you don’t mind that I picked up your cell, but Mrs. Bishop called with the information for the kid’s friends. You ready to go talk to them?”

“Yeah, just let me get out of…” she motions to her clothing, “I don’t think autopsy scrubs are appropriate for the ‘hey, tell me about your dead friend’ conversation.”

“Probably not.” Mulder concedes, and Scully heads to change.

***

Bishop’s friends lead them to the same bar mentioned in the message boards, which provides them with another tape. This one features a woman, short and curvy, with sleek brown hair running down her back and a glitch following the features of her face as she dances around the bar with Terry Bishop.

When Scully calls the lab at the local field office to tell them that she has another tape, she’s greeted with the information that the one of Casey DiMarco’s assault has been analyzed and they could not find any source for the glitch. Sanchez had compiled a collection of similar tapes from other victims, none of which had revealed additional information.

“Nothing?” Scully asks.

“Not a thing. There’s nothing wrong with the camera or the videotape, it’s just what it captured. He might as well have been wearing a mask.” the woman on the other end of the phone says.

“So it’s possible that he had some sort of tech that emitted a, a frequency of some sort that confused the cameras, in a way they couldn’t pick up and wouldn't live in the video?”

“I mean, I guess so? But I don’t know of any tech that can do that.”

“Neither do I, but that doesn’t mean no one’s come up with it. Thank you for your help.” Scully hangs up, and turns to Mulder, “You got that?”

“Nothing from the tape?”

“I don’t know what I expected, someone tampering with the tape in any normal way would make our jobs too easy.”

Mulder pulls the car into the parking spot, and they both step out into the motel parking lot. Neither of them speak as they get ready for bed. It’s not until they’re under the covers that Mulder speaks to the ceiling.

“I hate having to tell people that their only child is dead.” Scully turns toward him and inspects his profile. “She’s alone now. No husband, no children. What’s she going to do?”

“Grieve,” Scully replies, and Mulder turns his head to look right back at her. “Just like we have.” She shifts onto her side, “Just like we’ve each grieved our fathers and sisters.”

Mulder scoffs, “Hopefully in a more healthy way than me.”

“She’ll follow the same strokes. She’ll cry. She’ll bury him and visit his grave weekly. She’ll throw herself into something, work, or a relationship, or a hobby. Hopefully we’ll be able to give her some kind of closure, so she can fixate on something less destructive than solving her son’s murder. And she’ll heal.”

Mulder grabs her hand where it rests between them and shifts to mirror the position in which she lays. “We have to give her that closure, Scully.”

“We will,” she says, “I have a good feeling about it. We’ll catch them.”

“A good feeling? We have no suspects, no explanation for how they’re able to erase their victims memories or wipe their faces from the security cameras, just a bunch of stray leads pointing us to different bars, different crowds, different perps. We have nowhere to go.”

Scully is quiet for a moment. She has an idea, but he won’t like it.

“Oh I know that face,” his voice is laced with a tone of disapproval.

“I’m not making a face!”

“Yes you are, that’s your ’I’m about to suggest something Mulder won’t like’ face.”

“I do not have a face for that.”

“Yes you do, and you’re making it right now. C’mon, Scully, spit it out, what is it?”

She bites her lip, “They post what bar they’re going to before they go, right?”

“Yes.”

“I think we should go to the bar.”

“Ok. So what’s the catch?”

She bites her lip. “I think I should go and… try to entice them.”

“Scully…”

“Mulder, listen. We can have a van outside, with Sanchez and Dapshutte monitoring the video cameras for someone with the glitch. You can be inside watching me, in case someone approaches. I’ll be bait, but I won’t engage.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I know, but I think it’s our best option.”

Mulder sighs. She’s right, they have to do something more proactive to catch them, to shut them down. “We have to give Mrs. Bishop closure,” he whispers.

“Exactly.” she pauses, and puts her empty hand on their clasped ones. “Mulder, I’ll be fine. We’ll be safe about it.”

“Okay. We’ll call Sanchez and Dapshutte in the morning,” he relents.

“Thank you, Mulder.” She doesn’t need his approval, they both know that, but she appreciates him being on her side. They fall into sleepy silence for a couple minutes, until Mulder breaks it with a tone not dissimilar to a 10 year old girl whispering to her friend at a sleepover past midnight.

“Hey, Scully?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I going to have to take you shopping again? For a dress to seduce a siren?”

“Oh, shut up Mulder.”

<- previous chapter next chapter ->

#LTWrites #fall into place series #the x files #txf fic #LTW: heartbeats

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blondrichclosetwitch · 8 months

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Katie 1/23/17

.....can be *trusted*? What about all the stuff about her being Jesus, and me being the Virgin Mary?

How am i supposed to know what’s real, and what’s not real, Horse? Like, is the stuff about Blond real?

(dramatic sigh)

But Jane is saying that i can’t trust my guides.

(Jane is a medium in cali who warned me things were going to go haywire the night before katie died)

That i can’t read for myself. Is that true?

That Random and God and you are all gonna say the same thing that katie says.

Well, is it true that all the phone calls have been from Blond’s people? Almost all of them?

(pause)

And is it true that she’s pregnant?

And is it true that she’s going to miscarry on april 17th?

I’m just thinking about...jakk. I heard what you said the other night, i did. You know i listen to you. (yawns) i need to lie down a bit more.

(break in tape, a buzzing in the background, now talking to “katie”)

And i think that that’s what jane doesn’t understand. You’re not a normal 9 year old..is that correct?

And i think that’s what she wasn’t getting. But that’s just so obvious to me. Like, i feel that. It would be obvious to me if you were just a normal year old. If my niece had just died, and..i know that that is deeper.

You know?

But...(transmission)

i get that. I know that.

I like the way that i can feel you reacting in my body.

(pause)

I just heard a man calling Blond....a man calling Blond in my head...and leaving her a voicemail. Saying “you need to stop Blondrich Closetwitch, do you hear me “

Is that just because i’m angry? Is that just because i’m tired of it.

“No”?

Should i give someone her phone number? Patrick?

(Pause)

That’s bad though, that’s the dark, that’s the dark..right? That’s the dark. That’s Blond’s way. (tearful) that’s the dark, that’s Blond’s way (more tears) and i just have to, like, focus. And ask for God’s help.

So you think it’s almost time to call my father. Thousand dollars meeting with healers, trying to figure out what happened...tell him i’ve done that, 800$ meeting with healers, and they all...i

can play it all for him. (getting manic) and that right now i need his help. I can quit the business and i can get a job waiting tables. (smiling) like you told me to

And then i’ll just see the normal clients that i like.

Right?

Do i need to wash my hair today?

I do?

Should we go to the tree now? It’s only 7. I guess we could go out there this early. Ok. i guess. (noises of getting dressed & prepped for the world )

( a long pause)

Katie....did jakk get a job somewhere else?

In the chef position?

So now he feels like he can file for divorce. Ohhhhhhhh. So he’ll have more money. That’s what he was telling me.

Is it a new place?

No....no(surprised)...it’s an established place? (she ruminates)

It’s not one of the DC restaurants, is it?

It is?

Is it saam?

Is it saambar?

(shocked) no! No it’s not, (thrilled) no it’s not. Really? He loves saam. He loves it.

(running water)

I know it sounds crazy.

.*really*?

What!

Is this an alternative world? (low laugh) did he actually get the chef position at saam bar?

( sounds of her moving around, until the tape ends)

NR 71 1/24/17

We’ve got a little time. Hold on i have to put my hair up, sorry. It’s like a rat’s nest. So was Blond Judas?

So Blond goes back, like, through time! Playing the role of..the traitor.

Is jakk...is jakk...so jakk is hearing my conversations with him?

And he’s trying to figure out how to get out of the situation with Blond.

Is he keeping his phone locked?

Good.

Is it safe for me to start texting him again?

You think so.

Is he really the chef of saambar?

I’m trying to get if that’s like....

Yes. that’s a yes.

Chef of saam bar.

(googling) new chef of saam bar...(perusing the website )

You’re saying yes

Huh

Have they announced it yet?

But he got it.

“Matt asked him.”

(shrieks) oh my god

(translating transmission)

So matt’s moving on to somewhere else....and asked jakk to take the position.

(freaking) oh god. Oh my god.

So, it’s not happening just yet.

Is it gonna be..more than 2 weeks?

Oh my god, that’s so great.

It really is happening then.

(pause)

I think i’m gonna go back to bed, my head still hurts. We can talk later. Is that ok? I’ve got to get one more hour of sleep.

But that’s great news. It’s really great news.

But does that mean that he’s still gonna go to europe?

Or does that mean i’m gonna go to europe?

(small laugh)

I’m going to europe

He’s gonna stay here and work and i’m gonna go to europe

I guess it makes sense.

Am i gonna have the money to go to europe? Is someone gonna give me the money? Cause i can’t be poor in europe. Am, i going to italy?

What about the cat? Is she coming with me?

And katie’s coming with me.

(concerned) Is my brother gonna kill himself?

Soon?

Is it true that dad admitted to claire what he did?

(pause)

I don’t know any italian

And we’re gonna write.....one more hour of sleep.

oh i see it’s because he’s the Magician.

I see why it’s happening. (end of tape)

NR 72 1/24/17

(talking to “Psychic Jakk”)

(angry) Took down my slixa, took down my eros, took down my backpage....like i’ve taken everything down, i’ve taken everything down...and she’s still trying to set up people, she’s contacting...i don’t know exactly how she’s finding them. But it does seem to be happening, somehow.

She is doing this.

She’s just trying to get me busted and she’s trying to use any means possible. Is this because she...is this because of the spells?

“Because she doesn’t want to go to jail for the spells. “

Well......does laurie know that i want to talk to her about the spells?

Yes, okay. Is she planning on talking to me? I had a feeling she would.

I am...i’m not giving up. It seems like Blond knows a lot of people. But that’s ok. Oh man it’s really raining. She knows a lot of people but that’s alright.

Do you know how she’s doing this?

Did she send out like a massive email or something? She did.

Did she say this woman is trying to wreck my marriage?

Huh.

Don’t you think her mother should see the email?

Well, .......she’s not going to get to me. Can you find me a restaurant job? Can you like have one of your friends call me and hire me, stat? Just don’t let her know about it.

That would be a huge help.

You know i’m good. You know i’m great with people. And i’m gonna work on my resume tonight, i just have to go to the bank and make sure my account isn’t overdrawn.

And figure out if i’m getting a roommate or what, i guess. Which i really didn’t want to do but oh well..i’d rather just have you as my roommate.

But ...do you think that i should hold off on messaging laurie again? Ok

( translating transmission)

You’re handling it.

Alright i’m gonna let you get to work, i’m going to go to the bank...we’ll talk more later. Ok. alright. Ok. i love you.

ok bye.

Alright katie...we’re gonna get ready to go...out in the rain.

(end of tape)

#watch the tapes

0 notes

kokokabana · 2 years

Text

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞

✧ Austin Russo and Damien Jones ✧ prisoner ✧ interests: reading, foodie, fitness, parties, technology, dancing, true crime, travel, drinks, romance, volunteering, adrenaline, sex

Oh no… my Kryptonite. Hot bad boys who lost hope to ever find love until they meet you where they realize that there is someone out there who is by their side no matter what for which they show their gratitude by offering a soft, romantic side only they get to see.

« 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

✧-✧-✧

How to read this guide

The choices are portrayed like this: A | B. The one in bold or with an exclamation mark gets you (the most) affection.

Sometimes both choices work! They get you a different dialogue from your match, but you or they give the same amount of emoji reactions, balancing everything out.

Make sure to equip the interest that is about to be unlocked when you fill up that relationship bar! That gives you 15 additional gems. Don’t accept the gems and close the app when you haven’t already.

Message me or comment below if you found something else!

✧-✧-✧

Chat History

#1 Texting

✧ Chill out! | Sorry…

✧ nobody’s really asked me that before → 🤔 | 😮!

✧ My hobby is flirting! | My favorite hobbies are always changing.

✧ it’s cool, glad we have something in common → 😎 | 🥹!

✧ 1st CG for 180 💎 -> 🔥! | 😍

-> filled up relationship bar 1x

✧-✧-✧

#2 Texting

✧ You’re impossible… | Yeah, kinda.

✧ Very cool | Pretending to know what that means...

✧ 2nd CG for 300 💎 -> 🥹! | 😊

✧ oh you like to play with my words? -> 🍆! | 😈

✧-✧-✧

#3 Texting

✧ I think people are truly good at heart. | I can only speak for myself.

✧ Oh! I really like it! | Interesting…

✧ there’s more where that came from! -> 👏 | 🎉!

✧-✧-✧

#4 Texting

✧ 3rd CG for 300 💎

✧-✧-✧

#5 Texting

✧ I missed you SO much!! | New phone who dis

✧ More about your dad! (gem scene for 120 💎) | Any other family?

✧ i got none -> 😭! | 😮

✧-✧-✧

#6 Texting

✧ it doesn’t help that I already got a spicy temper -> 🌶! | 😐

✧ You can always change! | Try to be cautious, not cold.

✧-✧-✧

#7 Texting

✧ Feeling really good! | Feeling a little lonely… -> i was looking forward to talking to you all day… 💏! | 👍

OR (no choose the first one!!!)

✧ Feeling really good! | Feeling a little lonely… -> why don’t you go see them -> 😭! | 😐

✧ Nobody’s perfect! | How bad could it be?

✧-✧-✧

#8 Texting

✧ Please tell me you’re rich! | There’s more to life than money…

✧-✧-✧

#9 Texting

✧ You don’t really hate your family, do you? | I don’t like my family either… -> no decisive choice but I like his response for the second choice

✧ Bennie is the reason i’m on death row 👎 -> 😱! | ☹️

✧-✧-✧

#10 Texting

✧ Yes, of course I’ll still talk to you. (gem choice for 120 💎) | You’re on DEATH ROW… -> 1 screen of fluff but more for boost

✧ Quit lying to me! | If you say it’s true, I believe you.

✧-✧-✧

#11 Texting

✧ woke up with the gun in my hand and the cops in my face… -> 🫢! | 😫

✧-✧-✧

#12 Texting

✧ 5th CG for 300 💎

✧ and no – according to the cops, the jury, the judge... -> 😭! | 👎

✧ Not a bad idea, I love learning about true crime! | Can I just study your lips instead?

✧-✧-✧

#13 Texting

✧ it’s your fault 😬 -> 😘! | 😬

-> this must be my favorite part omg TIME STOPS? PB AND J?!!?!? HELLO SOMEBODY TALK TO ME ABOUT THIS

✧-✧-✧

#14 Texting

✧ you’re already helping by just talking 🙂 -> 😘! | 👍

✧ It’s worth the risk 😘 | I can handle myself 😎

✧-✧-✧

#15 Texting

✧ 6th CG for 300 💎

✧ What if I had actually lost you?! | You should have killed them 😐

✧ if you actually lost me, then you’d remember the good times we had 😊 -> 🥹! | 🙂

✧-✧-✧

#16 Texting

✧ Embarrassed much? | There’s no going back now! TELL!!

✧ it was just kinda intense -> 🔥! | 😳

✧ OMG YAAASSS, that’s so hot!! | That’s kinda strange…

✧ 7th CG for 300 💎

✧-✧-✧

#17 Texting

✧ i wasn’t expecting that... -> 😈! | 🙄

✧-✧-✧

#18 Texting

✧ Finally getting desperate? | Yay, revenge!!

✧ i don’t need to hurt him, i just need evidence -> 🙄! | ☹️

✧ What did you see?? | I’ve had a near death experience too! -> no decisive choice but he tells you his most important memories. also this is not about MC stop always trying to be in the spotlight lmao

✧ Can’t we be a little spontaneous? | Of course – this is serious business!

✧ PROMISE me you won’t go after Bennie yet! -> 😈 | 👍!

✧-✧-✧

#19 Texting

✧ That’s fucking disgusting! | I’d HAPPILY pat you down 😊 -> no decisive choice but hey, nothing against sexting

✧ I think I found Bennie. Does this look familiar? (gem choice for 120 💎) | I can’t do this… I need to go. -> only for boost and 8th CG which will be added later

✧-✧-✧

#20 Texting

✧ and now there’s nothing i can do to save you 😭 -> 🥹 | 💋!

✧ The one and only 😎 | Last time I checked…

✧ I’ve never seen you that scared 😏 | You should have more confidence in me! -> i’d be fucking devastated if Bennie killed you too!! -> 🥺 | ❤️!

OR (no the first one’s cuter)

✧ I’ve never seen you that scared 😏 | You should have more confidence in me! -> it’s a little difficult when you don’t listen to me 🙄 -> 😈! | 😐

✧ Almost – but I’m fine. | As if 😎

✧ Of course, I know how much it meant to you! (gem choice for 150 💎) | Lucky guess 😉 -> only boost but anything for Austin

✧ LOL I guess it runs in the family 😏 | I can’t really blame him!

✧-✧-✧

#21 Texting

✧ it looked like you said Bennie’s taking you out on a date 😂 -> 🤢! | 🫢

✧ That’s about the gist of it 😬 | It’s even funnier because it’s true!

✧ clothing item 🎁 (black jeans for 170)

✧ PLEASE wait until i’m back before you head out so we can actually make a plan this time!! -> ❤️! | 👍

✧-✧-✧

#22 Texting

✧ Okay, I’ll bring a knife to the date. (gem choice for 180 💎) | Seriously? I’ll be fine…

-> if this works, I’ll buy you some knee knives, a new kitchen, and become your personal chef 😜 -> 😍! | 👍 (AAAAAHHHHHH)

✧ Okay, I’ll bring a knife to the date. (gem choice for 180 💎) | Seriously? I’ll be fine…

-> OMG… i meant to defend yourself! -> 👏! | 😬

✧-✧-✧

#23 Texting & First Date

Nothing.

✧-✧-✧

#24 Texting

Nothing.

✧-✧-✧

#25 Texting

✧ goodbye -> ☹️ | 😭!

✧ OMG I’m so sorry, I was running and missed your texts!! (gem choice for 150 💎) | Wait. I’m going to re-read the texts you just sent -> only for boost

✧-��-✧

#26 Texting

✧ He almost did... | Nope, I’m a boss 😎

✧ Of course, you’ll be free in no time! | Don’t get your hopes up 😬

✧ i’m speechless - you stuck by me this whole time! -> 😘! | 👍

✧-✧-✧

#27 Texting

✧ Great, he’s cracked... | That was so beautiful!

✧ I love you too! (gem choice for 150 💎) | Austin, you’re not making sense. -> AAAHHHHHHHH

✧ you read my mind! that’s how i feel too!! -> 💏 | ❤️!

✧ Oh, it was nothing | Fuck YAAAAAAAASSS!!

✧ you’ve done more than enough, but i’ll DEFINITELY dream of you tonight -> 🍆! | 😏

✧-✧-✧

Full Relationship Bar

-> depending on many gem scenes you bought, you will get the dialogue with this 9th CG sooner or later once you filled up the bar 4 times

✧-✧-✧

#28 Texting

✧ now there’s a manhunt for Bennie and another trial later -> 🥂! | 👍

✧ You owe me one! | Eh, don’t mention it. -> gets you 🫢

✧ I am pretty good at solving mysteries! | Too dangerous for my taste 😬 -> gets you 😂

✧-✧-✧

#29 Texting

✧ i’m in GRAVE danger -> 🫢! | 😐

✧ Try to calm down 😮 | I’ve never seen you this worried before!

✧ Time to man-up! | Okay, that’s a BIG problem!

✧ i’m trying!! -> 🙏 | ❤️!

✧ 10th CG for 300 💎

✧ i love you -> 😍! | 🥹

✧-✧-✧

#30 Texting

✧ long time no talk 😎 -> 😍! | 😳

✧ OMG... I’m SO happy to hear from you! | Sorry, already moved on 😜

✧ 11th CG for 300 💎

✧ Bennie was released from jail -> 💔! | 😱

✧ The justice system is failing you | I’m still optimistic

✧-✧-✧

#31 Texting

✧ WTF?! | Tell me you’re okay

✧ he knows it was you who helped me try to get him locked up -> 😬 | 😱!

✧ i said no one better lay a finger on you i lost control and swung -> 🫢 | 😍!

✧ You defended me 😍 | Don’t make a bad situation worse

✧ Wish I could be there to help heal those bruises faster | I’m sure I could take you down with the right maneuver 😏

✧ I’m on, guide away ❤️ (gem choice for 150 💎) | Think I’ll pass -> just 4.5 screens of fluff, mostly from MCs side, not really worth it

✧-✧-✧

#32 Texting

✧ As about as relaxed as I can be with a target on my back | I’m finding solace in knowing I have your support

✧ u should know im prepared to do whatever it takes to keep you safe -> 🥹! | 😍

✧ You’re the only innocent one between the two of us 😈 (gem choice for 150 💎) I feel the same about you -> 4 screens of judge-plaintiff role play huh… not my thing

✧ Yes, but it’s always worth repeating | Awwww you’re so sweet. Totally made my day!

✧ tbh, sometimes, i think i love you more than i love myself -> 😍! | 🫢

✧-✧-✧

#33 Texting

Nothing.

✧-✧-✧

#34 Texting

✧ I always have time for you ❤️ | Oh no! You sound worried...

✧ but Bennie has pull with multiple prison gangs- including this one -> 😱! | 😭

✧ We’re both in this together | I’m an adult

✧ You have no clue how much I actually care about you, do you? | I don’t half-ass relationships 😜

✧ no way you care about me more than care about you -> 😘 | 😂!

✧ Prove it to me then! (gem choice for 150 💎) | LOL it’s ok, I believe u -> 100000% worth it, see my reaction here

✧ free clothing item 🎁 (black bracelet with gold plate)

✧-✧-✧

#35 Texting & Actual First Date

✧ as it turns out. it has video settings. i’m about to video call you! -> 🎉! | 🫢

✧ OMG! YES! PLEASE! | Now? I’m kind of nervous

✧ Umm, absolutely! Serenade me! (gem choice for 180 💎) | This is too dangerous! Maybe you should hang up

-> I was dying because of how romantic it is. He freestyles a poem for you and you add your own verses, I’m crying

✧ Besides, I got to see you in my bracelet, and that was worth it -> 🥹 | 💋! (gift-related)

✧ Yes- but it’s for you so l don’t care how insane it sounds | I can’t let u keep getting attacked before the trial

✧ Remember why I’m taking this risk | Save those breaths for when our lips me

✧ I promise you I’ll be careful | You won’t lose me

✧ you were worth every second. -> 🥹 | 😍!

✧-✧-✧

#36 Texting & Third Date

✧ tonight’s the night -> 😈! | 😱

✧ Is anyone ever ready to break and enter? | I’ve actually been looking forward to this

✧ Kick Bennie in the balls (gem choice for 210 💎) | Beg Bennie not to hurt you

-> idk if Bennie knowing it was you or not will have actual impact on the rest of the story, but that should’ve been a 120 gem choice on gem rush

✧-✧-✧

#37 Texting

✧ I’m still shaken up a bit but I’ll survive | Forget me, what happened with the guard?

✧ i spent all morning bribing a guard to give it back -> 🫢 | 🥹!

✧ Here you go. Do you think you can decipher this? (gem choice for 180 💎) | It’s probably nothing, I’ll throw it away

-> 12th CG

-> emotional background about him. Relatively short but very touching

✧ Now I’m really interested | This is SO frustrating!

✧ silver lining - must be something worth hiding on there for sure -> 👍 | 🥂!

✧-✧-✧

#38 Texting

✧ The risk was more than worth it | Now, all we have to do is get into that phone

✧ i can’t allow you to do something so risky -> 😬! | 🙄

✧ No risk, no reward! | I’ve thought it through and i’ve decided you’re worth it.

-> no decisive decision but he calls you sei thing I’d like to hear more of that

✧ as if i don’t think about that every single moment of every single day -> 😏! | 🥹

✧ If you knew the things that cross my mind… 🍆🍑💦😈 | I just want to touch you

✧ Let’s indulge in my fantasy. (gem choice for 180 💎) | I’m sure you can use your imagination

✧-✧-✧

#39 Texting & Fourth Date

✧ I’m relieved to hear that actually | That’s it? You had me worried for nothing!

✧ There has to be | Try to be more optimistic

✧ It WON’T happen again | We’ll cross that bridge when and if we come to it

✧ Sure! I’ll call you and tell you! (gem choice for 180 💎) | Can’t right now. I’ll just text it

-> only for boost

✧ i’m so damn happy you’re going to be here -> 😘 | ❤️!

✧-✧-✧

#40 Texting & Fifth Date

✧ I only have eyes for you 😘 | Yep- and you can find us ganging out in cell-block ‘D’ 🍆 💦

✧ i need to see your face right now -> 🫢 | 🥹!

✧ Yeah. Ring me. (gem choice for 180 💎) | Let’s just keep texting

-> generic sweet talk, cut short very fast. only for boost

✧-✧-✧

#41 Texting

to be played and to 100% to be finished this is my absolute fav storyline and fav match :3

#kikkis.guides #lovelink guides #austin russo #damien jones #lovelink austin #lovelink damien #ludia lovelink #lovelink #kikkis.swiping #kikkis.stuff

27 notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 4 years

Text

🌷 social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories 🌷

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I KINDA RUSHED IT AT THE END BUT HOPEFULLY IT MAKES SENSE?? anyway, yoongi didn’t do anything stupid (depending on your definition of stupid) so no need to worry about him being cringey,,, i spared you all from the secondhand embarrassment but i won’t be so kind next time!! anyway... enjoy || W.C. 3.8K

prev // part 11 // next masterlist here.

By the time Seokjin’s phone begins to ring, Yoongi can already feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. The familiar coil of anxiety tightens around his throat like a vice, and Yoongi has to remember how to breathe to keep himself from fainting like a corseted Victorian lady.

“Well, that must be her!” Seokjin chimes, promptly declining your call without a glance. Yoongi catches a glimpse of your contact photo anyway: it’s an unflattering angle of you from below your neck, giving the illusion of a multitude of chins. If it were any other time, Yoongi might have smiled like a lovesick fool.

“Don’t you dare let her in here,” Yoongi seethes. He tries to sound menacing, but the effect is severely diminished by how badly his voice cracks. He tugs at Seokjin by the sleeve, but the older man refuses to budge. “Hyung, I’m serious. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Are you done live-tweeting your confusion now? Finally got the memo? I always knew you were a smart boy,” Seokjin laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder with his tomato sauce-covered tongs. “Since we’re on the same page now, why don’t you change clothes while I finish cooking? I know your entire wardrobe is composed of the free t-shirts you got from job fairs, but it would do well to wear a clean, unstained shirt.”

Yoongi swipes at him, hissing like the catboy that he is. “You’re the one who wiped shit on me, asshole. And yes, I figured out what you are trying to do. You think you’re so slick, but I know that you’re just trying to embarrass me in front of Y/N!”

Seokjin shrugs. “It isn’t like I’m trying to be slick. I embarrass you all the time. Besides, I’m setting you up on a date with the love of your life! You should be thanking me, if I’m being honest.”

Yoongi stammers, his jaw dropping in shock. “Love of my–?”

Seokjin waves his tongs in his face, silencing him. “Oh, hush. Don’t even try to hide it, Yoongi. I figured out that you like Y/N. Your weird behavior finally makes sense! After years of you avoiding her, I always thought you were just bad at forming human connections, but turns out you’ve got a gigantic heart boner for my best friend!”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Yoongi groans, smashing his head against his kitchen counter. He hopes a few brain cells might have died, just so he can stop processing the words coming out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Actually, just please stop talking.”

Seokjin snorts in exasperation as if Yoongi was the dramatic one between them. “Point is, this is a favor that I’ve chosen to grant you from the goodness of my heart! As I said, I’m giving you the love life you deserve! So stop whining and get moving before Y/N gets up here.”

“There isn’t any goodness nor a heart inside of you. And more importantly, when was the last time you did anything for free, you capitalist bastard!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-chi. You’ve already paid me for my services by offering me front row seats to watch you lose your fucking mind. And that, my friend, is priceless.”

“Aha! So you do admit that this is all just a ploy to humiliate me!” Yoongi shouts. He grabs a knife from his scabbard, pointing it threateningly at Seokjin. He doesn’t even flinch, instead gently guiding Yoongi by the wrist over to the chopping board where he had placed some garlic cloves beforehand. Without prompting, Yoongi’s hand begins to move, his culinary instincts taking over.

“Yes and no,” Seokjin admits as he grabs Yoongi’s cast iron pan from the top shelf (which he has never gotten to use since he bought it, ever since Seokjin had borrowed it once and placed it too high for him to retrieve.) “I’m honestly trying to help you out here, my dude. Besides, even if shit hits the fan, Y/N isn’t gonna think any less of you. She’s too much of an idiot to resent anyone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Yoongi huffs, eyeing him with intense vitriol. “Can’t say I understand how she’s gone this long without killing you.” The next time the two of them are alone together in the wilderness, he can’t promise that his hands won’t find their way around Seokjin’s throat, and it won’t be sexy.

“Hmm. Yeah, definitely,” he says, nodding absentmindedly. As he begins to season the steak, he hands the cast iron pan to Yoongi. “Start preheating this. We need it to be smoking hot before we can place the steak on there.”

“I know how to cook a steak, fucker. And who said you’re allowed to serve my Wagyu steak? I was saving that for a special occasion!”

Seokjin looks up from his ministrations long enough to raise a brow at him. “So going on your first ever date with Y/N isn’t considered a special occasion?”

Yoongi falters, eyes widening. “N-no, that’s not what I mean!” he defends hotly, but he quickly snaps out of it. “Wait, no! This is not a date! Not when both parties did not agree to any of this!”

Seokjin pauses from his cooking to place a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “I mean, Y/N agreed to it, so are you going to reject her? Huh? Too good for her and my spaghetti?”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, she did not agree to this. She doesn’t even know you’re forcing her to eat lunch with me.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Seokjin challenges, puffing his cheeks. “You don’t even know what I told her!”

Except I do know what you said, Yoongi thinks darkly to himself. And more importantly, I know what she thinks you were implying. He is pretty sure that the words “crush on him during high school” have seared themselves underneath his eyelids forevermore.

But instead, he says, “Yeah, well. If what you told her is as vague as what you told me, I have a pretty good hunch that this is going to blow up into a huge misunderstanding.”

Like the absolute menace that he is, all Seokjin does is shrug nonchalantly. “Suppose you are right… Who cares? It’s not like the two of you are strangers, so I’m sure this is going to go great!”

“What the fuck? She is a stranger! I’ve literally only spoken two words to her in the past four years!” Yoongi seethes, his temple throbbing from an oncoming migraine.

Seokjin ignores him, as per his want. “Grab that plate, will you? I gotta plate the pasta before Y/N starts calling again to let her into the building,” he says, nudging the tongs into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi squawks, quickly turning the stove off to keep the food from burning.

Seokjin tears off his (read: Yoongi’s) apron off, wiping his hands on his jeans with a quick smile. “Great! While you finish up here, I’ll distract Y/N for a bit in my room before I lead her in here, alright? You better hurry unless you want to keep her waiting!”

“Oh, like how you kept her waiting downstairs for the past–” Yoongi checks his wall clock, “–seven minutes?”

Seokjin cackles madly, rushing out the door. “Well, that’s where you and I differ, Yoongi-chi! I give no shits about how Y/N thinks about me, so good luck!” After sending Yoongi three flying kisses for good measure, Seokjin slams the door shut, leaving Yoongi to simmer in his bad life choices.

The worst choice that he’s ever made? Being friends with one (1) Kim Seokjin.

“God, just end me,” Yoongi mutters, placing his $80 steak on his pan. It sizzles deliciously, much like how his (nonexistent) love life is about to get burnt to a crisp.

x x x x x

“Took you long enough.” You watch as Seokjin taunts you with a funny little dance by the lobby of his dormitory, the building receptionist not even batting an eye at his eccentricity. That’s the sad side effect of living in close proximity with Seokjin: you start getting desensitized to most things, not even flinching at the sight of a man without a functioning central nervous system.

Seokjin slides his card to open the door, finally allowing you entry. “Sorry. Got busy preparing your lunch! Which by the way, you should be thanking me for.”

“The moment I thank you for anything is the day that you slip on your own cum and die,” you grouse, nudging past him to get on the elevator first. You punch the button for the 5th floor before rapidly trying to close the elevator door on him. Unfortunately, Seokjin makes it in time before his ass gets clamped by the two steel doors.

“Thinking about my cum? Oh my, Y/N… I know you’ve had a dry spell for too long, but I didn’t think you’d be that desperate for some of my butter,” Seokjin says, leaning closely to wink at you.

Against your will, your cheeks brighten furiously, weakly pushing Seokjin away from you. “You wish. At least I don’t spend my spare time loitering outside the campus gym to ogle all the sweaty hot people.”

“And the invitation to join me still stands by the way!” Seokjin singsongs, leaping out of the elevator once you reach his floor. You walk side by side until you reach his room, but you catch him shooting a furtive glance at his next-door neighbor.

“Is Yoongi joining us for lunch?” you ask, failing to keep your curiosity from showing in your voice. If Yoongi does end up joining you for lunch (which has never happened in the past four years, convincing you that he must have a personal grudge against you), then at least it can confirm to you straight away that whatever this “date” is just another prank by Seokjin. You don’t know if you should be disappointed or grateful if it is just a joke.

Seokjin beams in response, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what? He is going to join us, actually!”

He had been in the midst of unlocking his dorm when he changes direction, leading you to Yoongi’s door instead. He rifles through his other keys, and you notice one of them looks similar to his own house key, except with a Hello Kitty sticker on it. He pulls that key out and promptly unlocks Yoongi’s door without missing a beat.

What kind of weirdo must Yoongi be to give Seokjin a spare key to his dorm? You’d rather shit out a cactus than let Seokjin have free entry to your home whenever he pleases.

You hesitate by Yoongi’s door, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Um, Seokjin? Are you sure it’s okay for me to–?”

“HONEY I’M HOOOOME!” Seokjin’s loud guffaw cuts you off before you can finish your question. He bursts through the door and leaves you by the hallway, and you watch as he nearly tackles Yoongi to the ground.

Yoongi, despite looking like he’s half the size of Seokjin on a good day, manages to keep upright despite how his back is now bent parallel to the floor. “Get off me!” he yells, roughly pushing Seokjin off of him.

Seokjin tumbles to the floor, but the shit-eating grin on his face hardly wavers. He points at you by the doorway, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Look, Yoongi-chi! I brought a guest!”

Yoongi spares you half a glance before returning his attention to whatever he was cooking. “I suppose you did.”

Okay, this date is definitely a joke. Why the hell did you even think for a second that Seokjin might have been into you?

“Um,” you stutter nervously. You grind your heel into the carpet self-consciously, your gaze downcast. “Hello, Yoongi. Sorry for the intrusion, by the way…”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies, albeit a little curtly. He clears his throat, his face still tilted away from you so you can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed or not.

You point a glare at Seokjin, who looks shamelessly pleased with himself. After taking a deep breath, you take your first steps into Yoongi’s home before gently closing the door.

As you look around at your new surroundings, you notice that his home is a lot cleaner than you would have expected, though you’re not exactly sure what you should have expected in the first place. It’s minimalist, but not in a barren type of way; it’s seems like Yoongi is fond of simple designs more than anything. It’s certainly a nice change of pace compared to Seokjin’s abomination of a room, with his vaguely yellow-stained bedsheets.

The smell of freshly cooked pasta and meat being grilled catches your senses immediately. You watch as Yoongi flips over a hefty piece of steak, the aroma causing your mouth to salivate instantly.

“I… What is… Huh?” you start, not knowing what to ask. You catch Seokjin snickering quietly to himself, but promptly shuts up when you mime punching him in the dick.

“It’ll be finished in a second. Why don’t you sit down?” Yoongi announces quietly, his gaze still fixed away from you. Confused but left with no other choice, you tentatively make your way to his couch, unable to relax as your spine remains ramrod straight and your jaw stays clenched.

You hear Seokjin shuffling behind you until he eventually makes his way to sit with you, plopping onto the couch as if it were his home. “Ah… I’m soooo hungry. Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asks you, his brow wiggling too much to be considered normal. Either that, or he was having a stroke.

“Yeah, it does,” you say, greatly uncomfortable. You peek at Yoongi once more, who is still dutifully attending to the steak. Making sure he isn’t looking, you twist Seokjin by the nipple, causing the elder to let out a high-pitched squeal. To an outsider, it might have almost sounded like he was being pleasured.

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” Seokjin whines, rubbing his tenderized nipples.

“You know what that was for,” you hiss, keeping your volume low. “What the hell are we doing here? Why are you making Yoongi cook for us?!”

“For us? It’s for you!” Seokjin snaps back. “Didn’t you say you would only come over if you got fed? Well, this is how you get fed!”

“I was under the assumption that you would be feeding me, not him!” you seethe. You check back on Yoongi, who still hasn’t looked your way once. “The poor boy… No wonder he doesn’t like me! He must think I’m as bad as you!”

Seokjin snorts. “Of course he likes you! This whole lunch date wouldn’t have even fucking happened if he wasn’t assdeep in lo–”

“Lunch is finished,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, his spatula rattling loudly against his pan. The sudden noise makes you jump away from Seokjin, who appears vaguely triumphant.

“T-thanks,” you stutter, standing up and resisting the random urge to shake his hand. Everything about this situation is so tense and awkward that it feels like you’re being filmed for a prank Youtube video or something. Knowing Seokjin, the odds of that happening are great.

“That’s my cue to leave then! Bye! You guys have fun!” Seokjin says, jumping to his feet.

You vaguely hear Yoongi gasp quietly when you launch yourself at Seokjin, just narrowly keeping from escaping. “Oh no, you don’t! Who said you could leave? You’re not going anywhere!”

But like the slippery snake that he is, Seokjin manages to wriggle out of your arms and hop over Yoongi’s coffee table to get to the door. “Too bad! I have classes to get to, so I gotta blast! Use this time to get to know each other or whatever it is that kids do these days,” he says, winking salaciously. With one final sputter of (evil) laughter, Seokjin makes his exit, leaving you and Yoongi to fester in some good ol’ fashioned discomforting silence.

“Um,” you say, just as Yoongi opens his mouth to say something too.

“No, you go first–”

“You go ahead–”

The two of you pause mid-sentence, staring at each other. You grin sheepishly at him, motioning for him to speak first.

He returns your smile half-heartedly. “So, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for letting Seokjin rope you into this. I tried stopping him, but… You know how he is.”

You laugh, sounding a little crazed even to your own ears. That’s the longest sentence you’ve ever heard him speak!

“Yeah, believe me… I am intimately aware of how he is. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” you joke.

Amazingly, your little quip makes his smile widen, his cheeks puffing up imperceptibly. “Glad we can agree that Seokjin has the amazing ability to ruin people’s lives. It’s almost welcoming to find solidarity in a shared experience.”

“Shared experience? Try shared trauma. That dude is a walking serotonin sucker,” you say dryly.

You don’t think what you said was remotely funny enough to warrant a laugh, but it causes Yoongi to let out a loud snort regardless. But the amusement on his face is short-lived, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He slaps a hand to his mouth, breaking eye contact once more. “Oh fuck, that was so unflattering,” he groans, clearly mortified.

His blush, multiplied by his shy demeanor, makes you want to coo at him, but you doubt he’d take that too kindly. So instead, you change the subject to save him. “So, uhh… The food? You don’t have to give me any, by the way. I wouldn’t want you to waste your lunch on me or anything.”

Yoongi snaps out of his previous embarrassment, returning to the more familiar stoic expression you’ve come to associate with Yoongi. “No, that’s fine. Seokjin–er, rather… I made enough for two people, so it would be a waste if you didn’t eat at least some of it. But I don’t care either way if you want it or not.”

For two people? you wonder. So Yoongi had known Seokjin wasn’t going to join for lunch?

“Oh, if it’s fine with you…” you trail off, meekly making your way towards him. The spaghetti and steak look absolutely delicious, though you don’t need to tell him that when your stomach speaks for you. “Oh shit, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, your cheeks heating up this time.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Haven’t eaten breakfast yet, I assume? That’s pretty stupid if you ask me. Don’t you have class until 5? How the hell would you have survived until then?”

You choke in surprise. Where did all that sass suddenly come from? “Excuse me? I’m not stupid! I would’ve been fine with a sandwich from the cafeteria if you must know!” you say indignantly. You’re too busy being offended that you don’t fully comprehend his words, failing to notice how he had known you had class until 5 in the first place.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi starts shifting through his cupboards and pulling out a pink tupperware. He begins to load them with food, nearly overflowing the containers with how much he tries to stuff in them.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“Packing your lunch. You have class in a bit, yeah? It’s almost 11:50 and it takes around 15 minutes to get to the main campus. You won’t have time to eat here and make it in time,” he says, pointing you with a look. “Wait. Did you have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah? So?” you ask, defensive. “Are you gonna call me stupid again for not having caffeine or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “If you’re caffeinated, then that means it should only take you 7 minutes to get to class.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” you exclaim, but you can’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. You’re kinda weird, did you know that?”

“You barely even know me, so how would you know?” he retorts. He finishes placing food into the tupperware and promptly clicks the lid in place. He offers it to you, smirking slightly.

You huff, but your ire is all for show. You aren’t actually annoyed by him–he’s just… different from what you expected. A little shy, a little rough around the edges… but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You understand why Seokjin loves to torment him; he seems like a fun person to tease.

“That can be amended,” you respond, taking the tupperware from him. Your fingers graze the backs of his hand by accident, causing him to quickly retract his hand as though he’d been burned. You nearly drop the container in surprise, but luckily your reflexes save your precious food just in time.

“Sorry. About… you know.” Yoongi gesticulates wildly, his gaze darting anywhere but at you.

You smile secretly to yourself, amused. Ah. He’s like a human seesaw. Blushy one second and grumpy the next. “No worries, Yoongi. I’ll be sure to return this container soon, so don’t you worry.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Keep it if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Says the guy who has an entire cupboard full of color coordinating food containers. “Roger that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi walks you out the door, pausing outside the hallway with you. “Do you…” he hesitates, swallowing loudly enough for you to hear. “Do you… want me to walk you out?”

His sudden offer almost makes you want to laugh, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, you just shake your head with a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost. I think I remember where the door is.”

He pouts, his lips jutting out cutely. “Yeah, well. I was just trying to be nice, but you do you.”

You giggle lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You were more than nice,” you say, winking for added effect. It does more than you thought it would, causing Yoongi’s cheeks to bloom once more.

With one last wave, you make your way out of the dormitory, your heart a little lighter than before.

“Huh. That was weird.” You glance at the pink little tupperware in your hands, its warmth keeping your hands safe from the winter chill. As you walk to class, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a shy boy with soft hands and even softer cheeks. Maybe Tuesday isn’t going to be so bad after all.

#btsghostie #bts social media au #bts smau #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #seokjin x reader

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atinydise · 3 years

Text

Ateez arguing with their s/o in a middle of a make out session (part 2)

❦ Genre: Fluff & Suggestive.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 3K.

❦ Requested: Heck yes lol, thank you! 🦋

❦ A/N Note: ⚠️Since I took again an eternity to post it, I advice to read the first part again (or for the first time)! Thank you for liking the 1st one tho! hehe

HONGJOONG

Jongho called the leader once again, even waved in front of his face but still nothing. "Is he ignoring me?" He asked San. His friends shrugged. "He's lost in his thoughts. And he's probably really far away from here." "HYUNG!" Yelled Jongho in the leader's ear. His brain finally reconnected to the reality. "The hell-" "It's been 2 minutes since I'm trying to get your attention." Said Jongho, a bit pissed. "What's going on?" He grabbed his phone, hoping to see any notification. "We need to go back practicing." "Ah.... then I'll join in 2 minutes. I need to call someone." He said, leaving the room. "What on the earth is going on with him?" Whispered San. "No idea." Replied the maknae. Hongjoong went to the restroom, the most far away from the practice room, just to be sure that nobody will bother him. "Okay, please babe pick up." He begged quietly plugging his Air Pods on. [“Hello, it’s the girl who always chosen after her boyfriend’s career. What can I do for you?”] At least you didn’t lose your humor sense.

[“Babe I’m sorry.”] Apologized Hongjoong. [“You are sorry for what exactly?”] [“For ruining the intimate moment, we were about to share.”] [“And?”] Hongjoong rolled his eyes. Good thing for him you weren’t able to see it. [“And to always let my career pass before you.”] [“And?”] You repeated. Your boyfriend was confused for a second. He ignored for what he needed to apologize. [“And... and...”] he stuttered. [“I don’t know.”] He heard a long and heavy growl coming from your side. [“Well. I guess it’s already more than fine.”] You claimed. [“What do you wanted me to say?”] He asked curiously. [“I don’t know... maybe something like ‘to apologize, I’m coming right now and for sure tomorrow you won’t be able to walk’.”] You said, imitating his voice. [“Are you on your period?”] Asked Hongjoong. He knew you so well that he immediately understands when you dirty talked to him, without even a simple stutter. You let a quick silence settle before finally say: [“Yeah.”] [“Then let’s wait a little bit longer then.”] He sneered. [“Coward.”] You replied. [“Love you too.”] [“Me too.”] [“So, we are good?”] He asked. [“Give me at least a hug and we will be good.”] You replied. [“See you tonight then.”] He smiled.

SEONGHWA

[“Hello! You are on Y/N’s voicemail I’m not av-”] Seonghwa growled and let his phone fall on the couch. “She’s not answering I guess.” Claimed Mingi. “No.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “She’s ghosting me since... 2 days now.” “Did you try to meet her at school?” “Yeah. I’ve waited 3 hours there. To finally remember that she’s on spring break.” “And at her apartment?” Asked Mingi. “Of course, Sherlock. But nothing.” Sighed Seonghwa. “It’s like she disappeared.” Mingi raised a brow. “She’s probably doing her own life.” The eldest member was suddenly hit by the reality. “Mingi you are a genius!” “Yeah, I know but why?” “We are Thursday!” Claimed Seonghwa, putting his shoes on. “Yeah and?” “Y/N is doing her laundry every Thursday evening! She might be there.” Seonghwa left the dorm so quickly that Mingi was still processing what just happened. “The beck is wrong with him...” Your boyfriend ran to the laundry shop which you are used to go. He prayed the whole way, that you would be sitting there, reading a book or watching a ton of TikTok while your clothes were washing. His heart missed a beat when he spotted you there. As fast as possible, he opened the door. “Babe!” “Hwa?” You raised a brow. “You came here to tell me how to wash my stuff?” Seonghwa ignored your question and turned around. He saw a cute grandma tidying her clothes. “Excuse me ma’am. But I will need you to leave quickly because I’m about to take my girlfriend, right here and right now.” “Seonghwa!” You yelled, outrageously. “Oh, it’s okay darling. I was young too.” Giggled the old lady. You grabbed your boyfriend by the wrist and guided him outside. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, mad. “I want to apologize!” “Do you think it’s the right way to do it?” “I want to prove you that nothing can bother me to have sex with you now. Not a stain and not even an old grandma.” “And the CCTV?” You pointed at the camera fixed where you were standing 2 minutes ago. “I don’t mind having public.” He smirked. “You are unbelievable.” You sneered. “Does it mean you are forgiving me?” “Maybe.” You replied cockily while entering back inside. “Grr. I love when you play hard-to-get.” “What the hell happened to you Park Seonghwa.” You laughed happily.

YUNHO

Yunho was tormented. It was 3AM and he didn’t close his eyes for a second. He was staring at the white ceiling, trying to know how to resolve this situation. You didn’t talk to him after the little incident. Yunho understood why you were mad. He didn’t tell you the truth and the real reason behind his shyness. He glanced at you. The sheet was barely covering your back. He was about to put it right, but the little voice in his head claimed that it was a bad idea. So, he stared at the big spec between both of you. For sure, you could put a third person in the middle. Yunho sighed. What could you to be less mad? The reason of why he decided to stop earlier was because of the stress, not because you weren’t attractive enough. It was the opposite actually. He truly believes that you will think that is too dumb. Just because he’s scared of doing something wrong. Or worse hurting you. But more he was thinking, more it started to be overwhelming for him. “Y/N.” He whispered. “Hm?” You muttered sleepily. “Y/N.” “What? It’s 3AM.” You grunted, still not facing him. “I’m sorry for what happened this evening. I was terrified. I don’t want to do anything wrong with you.” He continued. “I really find you attractive. Even too much sometimes but... I want to have sex with you of course.” You couldn’t help but to smile secretly. His words were well chosen. All the insecurities you had earlier were vanished. Yunho stayed quiet for few seconds, waiting for you to say something, but instead you handed your hand, still facing the wall. He understood that it was an invitation to cuddle. “So, we are good now?” He asked, positioning behind you. “Yeah.” You replied, rubbing his hand which was resting on your stomach. “Cool.” He whispered, finally relaxing. “Thank you for telling me.” You said. “So... do you want to try it right now?” He shyly asked. “I’m tired Yunho.” You declined. “Sure. Okay. No problem.” He replied. “But can we change our position because you are waking up the ‘beast’?” You laughed when you felt his boner pocking on your butt. “Told you... you were too much attractive sometimes.” He giggled, blushing a bit.

YEOSANG

A new notification. But not coming from you. Yeosang was waiting for you to send a message like you usually do in the morning. But the next day after your little and stupid argument, you were remaining silent. “She should have sent a message already. It’s 10AM.” Said Yeosang, frustrated. “Just let her breath.” Sighed Jongho, playing PlayStation on the upper bed. “I didn’t send a text to her yet. She should be the one apologizing.” “Why?” “We are 2 making love. So? She can buy condoms for me too!” “You right.” Started Jongho. “But you should always have a pack or at least one, on you.” “On which side are you?” Growled Yeosang. “None. Your intimacy isn’t my business. But I just admitted that both of you are wrong.” Declared the maknae. “Since when are you so mature?” Sighed his friend. “I need someone who can tell that I’m right.” Jongho stayed quiet. He would never say something like this when knew he was 100% right. “And she would never buy one because she would be ashamed of it.” Added Yeosang. “The cashier doesn’t care. You are not the only one in the earth to buy one.” Replied Jongho. “We are going to see if you have the same speech when you’ll buy for yourself.” “I do already.” “W-wait what?” Just when Yeosang was getting curious, you entered the room like a storm. “Kang Yeosang!” You threw the plastic bag on him. “What th- ouch!” “Jongho, I will ask you to leave the room for an hour. Or 2.” You removed your jacket. Yeosang opened the bag and threw everything on the bed. His eyes widened when he saw a dozen condoms’ pack. “The hell Y/N-” “I bought exactly 12 packs to show that you don’t need to be ashamed about it and that no one cares.” Jongho exited the room completely flustered, but with a bigger esteem for you. “Okay now remove your pants.” You ordered, pulling out your hoodie. “Like? Right now? Not even a make out-” “It’s been 10 hours that I’m waiting.” “O-Okay.” Yeosang was a bit taken a back, but it was fast forgotten when you unclasped your bra.

SAN

You rolled on your bed once again. You were so frustrated and mad at San. The vein on your forehead couldn't stop popping out every time you remembered him picking up his phone. Angrily, you covered your entire face with a pillow. Desperately, you tried to erase of these thoughts. Just when you were finally finding some peace, the fire alarm resonated in your apartment. You jumped out of your bed and went straight to the kitchen. Instead of seeing a big fire, you saw San opening the window as wide as he could. "What is going on?!" You claimed, grabbing a chair. San was panicked as you, or even more. He was trying to push the smoke out of the room while wondering what you were doing. On your tippytoe, you pushed the button to stop this annoying and loud noise. "Thanks God." Sighed San, relieved. "The heck you are trying to do. Burn my apartment?" You turned off the stove. "I wanted to prepare a royal breakfast for you." He pouted, disappointed that his surprise failed. You looked around you, now that the smoke was slowly disappearing, you could see the entire mess in the kitchen. Flour was spread on every parcel of the counter, one or two eggs were smashed on the floor, milk was spilled on cupboard and an incredible number of dishes were stacked in the sink. "Yeah, that's the first time I make pancakes by myself." He scratched his head. "Choi San..." "I want to apologize for yesterday! But I wanted to do it right!" "Oh nice. So, you said 'to apologize to Y/N because I've completely ghosted her to talk with my teammate that I can see every day, I'll burn her apartment'?" "Babe! I'm really sorry." He apologized once again. "I will do everything you want for a week." "Everything?" You raised a brow, curious. "Yeah." "Okay, then start by cleaning your mess." You pointed at the counter. "After that let's clean the entire apartment." "Sure." He nodded. "After that... we will eat at our favorite restaurant. And you are going to pay." "Wow. Sex must be really important for you." Declared San, when the list didn't stop. "Never stop a horny woman." You warned him.

MINGI

["I'm parked in front of your building. Let's talk really quick."] You read this text message at least 10 times to be sure you understood well. It's been 2 days since the practice room accident. You only exchanged few messages but nothing more. You didn't mind giving him a proper answer. You just put your hoodie back on, and of course by "your" it means "his", and left the dorm, without warning your roommates. But honestly, by the way you went out, dressed like this, they could only assume that you were about to meet Mingi. Just when you got out of the building, you spotted your boyfriend's car, as he said, right in front of the door. You hesitated a second, but finally hoped in. "You should have wear something warmer. It's cold outside." He said instantly, when he saw your bare legs. "Good evening to you too Mingi." You greeted him sarcastically. "Do you drove here, just to scold me about my outfit?" "No, of course no." He whispered, looking right at the street in front of him. Since, a big and awkward silence settled. None of you wanted to say something, too afraid to tell something risky and lead one of you to be mad. It felt like walking on a really straight and thin line. You played nervously with the hem of the hoodie, which was barely covering your legs, you noticed. That's probably why he scolded you. For your own good. As always. "I'm sorry." You both apologized at the same time. You glanced at each other, surprised and giggled cutely. "I'm sorry." Insisted Mingi, grabbing your hand. "Me too." You smiled to him. "Sorry for almost crushing you with my weight." He added. "You did." "And sorry for almost make you bald." "You did it too." Mingi pinched your leg gently, happy to see that you were still bratty sometimes. "Ooookay! I'm kidding! I'm sorry for what I've said too. That's wasn't really nice." "Yeah, it wasn't." "Song Mingi-" "Soo..." you didn't have enough time to say anything that he started the car. "Where are we going?" You asked enthusiastically, putting your seatbelt. "Just want to bring you somewhere. So, we can talk about these 2 terrible days." "Oh, I thought you wanted to go in a Love Hotel." You joked. "That's the plan too." "I-"

WOOYOUNG

2 weeks since your argument but 4 weeks since you shared an intimate moment. You needed to admit that even a flick on your forehead would turn you on. You were so needy. But no way Wooyoung could know it. You tried your best to stay far away from him when sleeping, so you wouldn't end by griding your butt on him, desperately. Usually, Wooyoung was really touchy, and he would initiate a make out session the first one, but surprisingly, he only exchanged a peck or a hug from time to time. You spotted him covering his manhood, with a blanket sometimes. He would always pretext that he is cold. But you are not dumb. He takes shower way much longer than usual tooo. On his side, Wooyoung was really struggling to not give up the first one. He was barely looking at you. He knew that with only one shorty or croc-top, it was over for him. In conclusion, you were 2 idiots trying to suppress their arousal for each other, just because of an argument. "Do you want to watch a movie?" Offered Wooyoung. "Sure, and I know how much you like movies." You smirked. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and ignored your comment. Instead of insisting on the subject again, he played the first movie that appeared. It was a really nice and chill one until the main actress discovered the wild side of college. It started by a scene and then other one. Followed by 3 more. Inside Wooyoung was hoping that you wouldn't notice the form on his sweatpants. "What a movie huh." He laughed nervously. "Yeah." You nodded. "They are really getting it huh." "They are really liking these scenes." "They are really well made." He replied dumbly. "Maybe that's what they want." "Of course, everyone wants that." "Yeah. Everyone." You repeated. "Everyone." "You exchanged a quick glance. Wooyoung was finally the first one to give up. "Do you-" "Heck yes!" You replied. "You should have told me!" "No, I was too mad at you!" "Do you really want to argue again? Right now?" He asked. "No." "Okay then go because I'm going to explode!"

JONGHO

"I still don't understand how you ended here, right in front of my college." You raised a brow at Seonghwa and Yeosang. "We were just having a cool walk and unconsciously ended here." Replied Seonghwa, the most natural possible. "The campus is 30 minutes away from KQ Quarter. And 30 minutes with a car." "We had a pretty long walk, okay?" Replied Yeosang, nervously and almost aggressively. "Okay okay... relax dude." You rolled your eyes. "You should come with us a bit." Started Seonghwa. "There's a park next to the campus. Let's talk there few minutes." Added Yeosang. "You guys... are acting really strangely." You claimed. Without asking your authorization, they each picked your arm and brought you to the park. You could fight or ask them to leave you alone, they wouldn't. Seonghwa almost needed oo ask people to not all the police. "What the heck guys? I really need to study and-" You stopped right when you saw your boyfriend sitting peacefully in front of you. A big blanket and a bunch of food were cautiously set on the grass. "Hi babe." Smiled Jongho. "What is this?" You asked. "You prepared all of this?" "Yeah." He scratched his head. "I hope you like it." "And we helped." Whispered Yeosang. "Are you doing this because you said your coach's name when we were making out." "You what?" Almost chocked Yeosang. "Eeew, this is disgusting!" Added Seonghwa. "It was an accident!" He rolled his eyes. "An accident." You crossed your arms on your chest. "I'm really sorry baby. I swear it was only because I've worked with her few hours ago." Explained Jongho. "Anyway, it's not like she's sexy. She's 60 years old and so strict and rude." Said Seonghwa. "She is sexy." Said Yeosang. All of you stared at him. "I'm joking. Relax." He sighed. "Y'all ready need to chill sometimes..." "So do you want to spend an afternoon with me?" Asked the maknae. "Of course." You accepted happily. "Cool! Then sit here." He pointed at the comfy place settled between pillows. "Thank you, Mark." "Mark?" "I'm kidding!" You giggled. "1 point for me now." "Unbelievable." Smiled Jongho.

#ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez suggestive #ateez imagines #ateez writings #ateez #ateez kpop #ateez cute

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pftones3482 · 3 years

Text

Sometimes Stupid

Commission for @randomfandomfan from one of their many prompts they gave me. Took forever bc of work and life and also???? Now I have a cat??? So that's fun. But this was fun to write. Read it here on AO3

Set post TLO and pre HOO (and a little bit post HOO). Under a cut for length.

Contrary to popular belief, Leo Valdez was not stupid.

He was an idiot, at times – for instance, maybe running away from his seventh (fifteenth? He’d really lost track at this point) foster home wasn’t the best decision he could have made, especially given that it was the middle of summer and oh, also, hurricane season. And okay, maybe he should’ve taken more with him than a single change of clothes, a box of Ritz crackers, a pocketknife, and a water bottle that had definitely seen better days, but he was in a rush, okay?

But he wasn’t stupid.

When he ran away from his foster homes, Leo tended to stay away from people where he could. And if he had to be around them, he cleaned up, smiled brightly, “Yes ma’am”ed and “Yes’sir”ed to an obnoxious point, and lied his pants off. People were less likely to call the police on a Hispanic kid if they thought he was just a darling little angel waiting for mom at the grocery store, and the last thing he needed was the cops in his business.

Not that it hadn’t happened, of course. He’d dealt with cops of all kinds – nice cops, bad cops, black cops, white cops (WAY too many of those, in his opinion), the occasional cop who would speak Spanish with him, cops who were just there to write a report and move on with their days – cops.

He tried to stay away from them.

Which meant sticking to beaches and forests, lakes and campgrounds, middle of nowhere places with no people for miles. Leo was good at disappearing. Hiding.

But there were always times when he needed an adult. When he needed to hitchhike, or when he needed food to the point of near passing out. Once for serious medical attention. There was a system to what adults you could trust.

Never cops. You could never trust the cops, no matter what naïve white parents thought. Leo had been in cuffs enough to know that was false.

You also couldn’t usually trust priests. They meant well, sure, but they always ended up calling the authorities in the end. That, or they tried to convert Leo to Catholicism, and while one of those encounters had ended with a swiped bottle of watered-down red wine and a night that made him vow to never drink again, he wasn’t trying to contact the church.

(THAT night, Leo would say he had been stupid. He could admit that)

Homeless people were usually okay. While a lot of them were very suspicious of everyone, almost every homeless person he’d ever met would point him in the direction of food, water, free showers, free clothes, or a library (his saving grace during the heat of the summer and the cold of the winter). The times when he came across gay homeless people were when he felt safest – they especially never pressed him about his background. Ironic, really, that he felt safer with strangers on the street than his foster homes.

Moms were sometimes okay. Especially if they were Hispanic, or black, or just anything but white. They, at least, wouldn’t call the cops on him. But they were also hit or miss – sometimes they helped in way of a meal, or a new bottle of water. One mom even took him to the store and got him new socks and underwear (he had cried that night). But other moms rushed him away from their precious babies. Some moms called him ungrateful for the “space he had.”

Dads were a never. Leo never went to men if he could help it, even if they had children with them. He didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them, and that wasn’t very far.

But it was hurricane season. And he was on the coast. And it was downpouring, and he was starving, and the only people he had seen for miles were a white couple, a man and a woman, standing on the porch of a somewhat rundown shack that Leo would’ve probably thought was abandoned if he hadn’t seen them there.

The man was tall, peppered hair that was shifting more to salt, with a rough beard and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. The woman at his side was short, probably Leo’s height, with dark curly hair and vibrantly blue eyes. It was streaked with gray, but she was, admittedly, a very pretty woman. Something about her smile put Leo at ease.

He clutched his backpack tighter in his fist and stumbled over the sand towards the shack, ankles rolling uncomfortably on the wet ground. He was sure he looked atrocious, sure that the moment they spotted him, they’d shriek and cuss him out and lock the door.

But then he coughed, hard, his shoulders shaking, and the woman whipped her head around. He watched her eyes widen, watched her tug at the man’s sleeve, and then she was bolting – barefoot, Leo noticed – down the steps and over to him.

He flinched when she wrapped an arm over his shoulders, jolting out of her grip more from habit than anything else. She froze, holding both hands up and relaxing her stance. “Hey, honey. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Somewhere deep down, Leo’s brain was scoffing at the patronizing words. But on the surface, he focused on the words, and then sharpened his eyes onto the man as he approached, phone in hand. “I-I c-can’t-”

The woman looked back, down at the phone, and her shoulders stiffened. “Paul, put the phone away, please.”

Her voice held an intonation that Leo couldn’t decipher, but the man – Paul – instantly shut the phone off and pocketed it. The moment it was gone, Leo let his shoulders loosen, and he looked at the woman anxiously. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I-I just…”

“Hey.”

Her arm was more cautious this time, sliding around Leo’s shoulders with a pace that would let him move if he wanted. He didn’t, just let it happen, and then the woman was easing him over the sticky sand and up the steps of the shack, Paul close behind them. He stopped at the door, pushing back hard against the woman’s guiding grip. “I don’t want to ruin your house,” he managed.

The woman’s laugh was…well, to be perfectly honest, it made Leo feel warm. Like she could never hurt him.

Those are usually the most dangerous people, his mind tried to reason with him.

“Sweetheart, it’s just a rental cabin. Besides, I’ve had far worse than a little sand and water on my floors before.”

Before he could wonder at that sentence, she opened the door and nudged him inside. The second that Paul closed the door, the sound of the wind died down and the chill in the air evaporated. Leo realized he was shivering.

The woman’s hands were warm on his cheeks. “My name is Sally, hon. You are-?”

He usually gave a fake name, but – “Leo, ma’am.”

“Don’t you ma’am me,” she scoffed, her voice easy as she helped Leo to the couch. “I’m not that old, am I Paul?”

Paul put his hands up. “I abstain from answering.”

Sally scoffed and pressed a cool hand on Leo’s forehead. “Can I take your backpack, sweetheart?”

Something like panic flared in Leo’s chest, and Sally must have seen it, because she pulled her hand back and held it up. “I’m not moving it far, I just want Paul to dry everything out for you, okay?”

Fingers shaking, Leo shrugged off his bag – the one he’d been carrying for nearly three states – and passed it over to her. She took it like it was a priceless artifact, and handed it to Paul with more tenderness than Leo had ever seen given to an inanimate object. “I think my son might have left some clothes here while he was with us last week,” she said, voice soft. “He’s a little older than you, so some things might be big, but is it okay if we give you some of his clothes while we dry out yours?”

Leo swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Um. Yeah.”

She stood up and left with Paul, giving Leo a moment to be alone and take in the cabin around him.

It was old, but obviously well taken care of, with weathered planks of wood gracing the walls and the floor. He was in the living room, full of mismatched couches and chairs and a bookshelf stacked full of books and games. He didn’t see a TV in sight, but he wasn’t expecting to find one. He stood shakily, suddenly very aware of how wet he was getting the couch, and wrapped his arms around himself as he explored the rest of the main room.

The kitchen was small and cramped, but he could smell something full of tomatoes and spices in the oven that made his tastebuds water. He didn’t dare look for fear of getting caught, so he stepped away and into the tiny dining area. There was sand on the floor, spread thin and fine, and it was such a small thing, but it made Leo relax even more – Sally meant it when she said she didn’t care about him ruining her floors.

But she and Paul had been gone for a while, and Leo wasn’t stupid, okay? It didn’t matter how well intentioned someone was, they always thought they knew better, and if they were gone too long, it meant they were trying to decide for him. So he crept towards the hallway they’d vanished to, praying that he didn’t step on a squeaky board. Old homes always had them in the most inconvenient places.

“-not answering?” he picked up Paul’s voice saying.

“No,” Sally said, a sigh in her voice. “He did say he and Annabeth were on a date, but I didn’t expect them to be in Paris of all places. How did they even-?”

“Can you get ahold of Chiron?”

Not the police, then, Leo reasoned, unless they knew an officer by that name. He leaned a little closer.

“No – I try not to call the camp unless I need to. Phone lines and all that, you know?”

Paul huffed. “I know. And Rachel is at art camp, right?”

“Yup,” Sally said, and Leo heard a sound like a blowing raspberry. “He clearly isn’t aware of anything, Paul. He’s terrified.”

“Probably a runaway,” Paul hummed, and Leo flinched at the damning statement. “Met a couple kids like that teaching.”

He looked like a teacher. You couldn’t trust most teachers either, Leo had learned. They were just like priests. Tried their best, but they always inevitably called someone.

“What did you do? Who did you call?” Sally asked, and Leo stiffened. Here it comes, his brain taunted.

“No one,” Paul said.

Leo blinked, taking a slight step back. What?

“Kids don’t run away for no reason, Sal. Especially not kids like him. Perce taught me that. I mean, maybe in my early days of teaching, I might have called the authorities, but ever since this summer I…how could I risk that? Even before then, I mean…the stories I’ve heard from some of these kids I’ve talked to. We don’t know anything about him. If he ran away, all this way, in this weather? It was bad, love.”

Leo’s throat ached.

He’d never, the whole time he’d been in foster care, ever heard an adult admit that they were wrong to call the authorities on him. Never heard an adult take his perspective into account, especially without even knowing him. Never had an adult admit that his life could be anything other than ideal.

He took another step back and oh shit, there it was, the cursed piece of wood in every old house to ever exist. He cussed under his breath and ducked his head as Sally stepped into the hallway. He refused to look up at her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You were just gone for a while a-and I thought you might be calling someone.”

No verbal response. Instead, a soft bundle of fabric was pressed into Leo’s hands. He startled, gripping onto the clothing, and looked up at Sally and Paul with wide eyes. Paul shook his head. “We’re not calling anyone, son. Not if you don’t want us to. But we do ask that you get cleaned up, before you catch pneumonia.”

Sally tilted her head towards the door across the hall. “Let me know when you’re done, I’ll toss your clothes in the dryer. Paul was just finishing up dinner when you came along. Do you like lasagna?”

Leo’s mouth watered at the thought of eating any kind of food that wasn’t stale crackers and canned tuna. “Yes ma’am.”

“What’d I say about that ma’am nonsense?” Sally scolded.

Leo ducked his head, trying to press down the tears. “Yes, miss,” he chuckled.

Sally laughed as Paul headed for the kitchen. “It’s a start, love.”

Sally’s son’s clothes were soft, well loved. They smelled like sea water and lavender detergent, and though the t-shirt was a gaudy orange with letters so faded that Leo couldn’t read them, he sank into the fabric with a sigh. Sally had also passed him a pair of sweatpants, and Leo hoped that her son wouldn’t be mad if he ever found out that some random foster kid had borrowed them.

If he was anything like Sally, though, Leo had the feeling he’d like him.

His hair was still wet, but this time from a shower, and Leo couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to stand under an actual stream of hot water without people literally timing him to make sure he didn’t take too long. He stood in front of the mirror, sighing a little at how skinny he’d gotten. He’d always been small – being skinny only made him more of a punching bag for the bigger foster kids. His hair, untamed from weeks of running, hung in his eyes, and he wondered briefly if Sally might have a hair tie he could borrow.

He left the bathroom and crept into the dining room, where Sally was setting the table and Paul was pulling one of the most beautiful lasagnas he’d ever seen out of the oven.

“-texted me, said they’d be back tomorrow morning. He offered to come back sooner,” Sally was saying as Leo stood in the doorway, “but I know he and ‘beth haven’t really gotten to go on any non-monstrous dates recently.”

She blinked when she saw him standing there, and her smile softened into something warm and inviting. “Come on, hon. Paul was just getting dinner out.”

Maybe it was the malnourishment, or Paul’s cooking skills, or Leo’s exhaustion, or a combination of the three, but Leo had never tasted such good Italian food in his life. He downed one, two, three pieces and a full salad before he finally slowed down. To his relief, neither Paul nor Sally gave him any grief about how many pieces he took. Honestly, he thought he watched Paul actively make his slices bigger than theirs.

They’d clearly been talking about their son when he came in the room. This guy was in Paris, on a date with his girlfriend, and he was coming back tomorrow. Leo wondered just how rich this family was – the dad was a teacher, but Sally hadn’t said what she did, and Leo was a little afraid to ask.

When Paul brought out a pie for dessert, Leo almost cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had any dessert fancier than a stolen Ding Dong from a corner store. Paul definitely gave him a larger slice than them, and as he ate it, Sally poked at her own pie.

“Leo, we’re not going to pry,” she started, gentle. “Your story is yours, and I know how tricky it can be to share yourself and your past with new people.”

The sad smile Paul shot her didn’t go unnoticed by Leo, and he internally bristled at the thought that this wonderful mom in front of him could understand anything about how he felt, because that meant that she’d gone through shit she didn’t deserve. He said nothing, though, just nodded.

Sally eyed her pie thoughtfully, stabbing a blackberry that had escaped the crust. “But I feel like…well, I feel as though my son especially can relate to how you’re feeling, or at least some of it. If you’d be willing to wait for him to come home, maybe we can figure some things out together.”

Leo felt lost. He’d been lost a lot before, but this was the first time it was mental and not physical. “What?”

Sally looked up, seeming to realize that she’d baffled him. “I mean…”

She looked at Paul, and Leo looked between the two of them, tightening his grip on his fork. They were having a silent conversation. Leo hated when adults did that. “You mean you want to wait until I’m asleep so you can call the cops o-or foster services or-or just wait until your son gets back so he can tell me to get out.”

He shoved his chair back from the table, tears prickling at his eyes. Every time. Every time. He always got his hopes up, always thought he’d found the perfect people, people who got it, and every fucking time, he-

Hands settled on his shoulders, and he ripped away, scowling at Sally. Her eyes were sad, and Leo felt an unwelcome stab of guilt in his chest. “That is not what we were suggesting, ever, honey. I would never call foster services, first of all. They’re atrocious, especially for kids of color.”

Leo jolted back. He’d never had a white woman actively acknowledge his race so bluntly before – it was usually partnered with some demeaning comment about “his kind” of people. He eyed Sally warily.

She lowered her hands, keeping them on her hips where he could see them. “Second, I’d never call the police either. You’re not a problem, and my son has had enough unfortunate encounters with them for me to…distrust them severely, to say the least.”

Her son had-?

“I just…we know a place. Where you would genuinely be safe, hon. No foster homes, no cops, with people who get it.”

She was lying. She had to be lying, no matter what Leo’s heart said. But she wasn’t going to let this go, and he knew it. So he sighed, fidgeted with his fingers. He wished he had something to build. “Okay. I’ll wait for your son to get home.”

Sally relaxed, and Leo gave her a thin smile.

He helped her and Paul clean up the kitchen, put away the leftover lasagna. Sat with them and did a puzzle, played a game of Clue with them. Fixed their radio for them, much to their surprise, and then watched with a small smile on his face as Paul and Sally danced around the living room together. They tried to get him to join, but he’d never been much of a dancer, so he declined.

They bid him goodnight around 11, and he shut the door of their son’s room, let the hours tick on.

At three am, he got up, changed back into his own clothes, left the borrowed ones folded neatly on the foot of the bed. He took a flashlight from the bedside table and slid it into his backpack, stepped out of the bedroom and avoided the squeaky floorboard.

The tool kit from fixing the radio was still on the coffee table, and he picked it up with only the slightest feelings of guilt. Went through the cabinets and pulled out sleeves of crackers, a box of granola, eyed the leftover lasagna with a sad gaze. He found a roll of toilet paper under the sink, a bottle of hand sanitizer in a junk drawer.

He paused by the game of Clue, left out on the table from their match, and let his fingers trace over it sadly. His gut screamed at him to leave. His heart screamed at him to stay. He wasn’t stupid.

Leo had always trusted his gut.

He pocketed the candlestick piece and turned for the door, flinching the second his eyes landed on Sally.

Her hair was done up in a braid, her pajamas wrinkled, and the moon shining through the window reflected the sadness in her eyes. Leo opened his mouth, but couldn’t find it in him to speak – the lump was back.

She stepped forward and he shut his eyes, expecting a lecture. Instead, her hand cupped his cheek. Her other hand pressed into his, and he gasped as he felt the telltale touch of money in his fingers. He looked down at the wad of cash – he couldn’t see how much it was, but he knew that he didn’t deserve it. He looked up at her, panicking. “I can’t-”

“Stay, I know,” she whispered, and that wasn’t what he’d been planning to say, and he knew that she knew that. “I understand, Leo. I understand, sweetie.”

The sob slipped out before he could stop it, and Sally’s eyes softened. She bent at the hip, pressing a soft kiss to his curls. “When you end up meeting my son,” she murmured, “come visit, okay?”

Leo had no idea what that meant, but he nodded, if only to appease her. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.

She squeezed his shoulder. “Nothing to be sorry for, honey. Be safe.”

Sally watched him go, watched him shut the door behind him, and he looked down at the money in his hands with a choked feeling in his chest. It was more than he’d held in his entire life. He couldn’t take it, but he knew she’d be upset if he didn’t. And if there was one thing Leo refused to do, it was make Sally more upset than he already had.

So he pocketed it and, with an aching heart, stepped off the porch of the cabin. The storm from earlier had died down, and, fingers tight on his backpack straps, he started making his way up the beach.

Percy was bouncing up and down at the entrance to Camp Half Blood, fingers curled around Annabeth’s hand. “Do I look okay?” he asked for probably the thousandth time that morning.

Piper rolled her eyes. “Percy, it’s your mom. She doesn’t care what you look like.”

Percy shot her a mock glare. “I haven’t seen her in over a year, McClean, sue me.”

“You look fine, Perce,” Annabeth laughed, kissing his cheek. “She’s gonna mostly care that you’re alive.”

“Okay but this tattoo-”

“Sorry, you vanished on me for over a year, crossed the globe, and you got a TATTOO?” came a very scolding, very obviously Mom Voice, and Leo snickered, turning to see who was about to absolutely whoop Percy’s ass.

And he stumbled on his own feet, lips parting as Sally (Sally Jackson, his unhelpful brain mocked) appeared at the top of the hill. Her hair was a little grayer than it had been when Leo met her, her hips a little wider, but her smile was the same, her laugh as Percy launched himself at her the same peal of delight Leo remembered on his toughest nights, and when she caught his eye over Percy’s shoulder, her smile only widened.

Okay, so sometimes Leo Valdez was kind of stupid.

#percy jackson #pjo #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #pjo fanfic #my writing #sally jackson #paul blofis #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years

Text

The Adventures of Miss Mischief 1

Chapter 1

@maribatmarch-2k21 Day 23: Enemies to lovers

Ao3 *** Here *** Part 2

Obviously this turned out way to long, and it kindof went in its own direction so here is part one of i have no idea how many.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette Todd was never one to back down from anything. When her parents died leaving both her and her big brother orphans she didn’t cry. In fact, she became tough and nails. She could use her size and innocent features and be able to pickpocket and manipulate situations on her favor. But that was all turned in its head the night her big brother didn’t cone back. She knew it was dangerous and beyond reckless to go out and look for him, but she did. She went out and looked, for him anyways.

As she was running across the rooftops when she was hit and grabbed. She looked around quickly before her eyes landed on Joker.

“Shit!” Was a breathed trough her teeth.

The maniac clown walked towards her laughing.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” He laughed as he spoke. “What’s your name girly?” The henchman holding her tightened his hold on her neck effectively choking her when she didn’t answer. Mari knew she had to do something, she let fear wash over her features tapping the arm of the thug. “Let her go.”

She fell limply to the ground gasping for breath. “Not on your life.” She knocked the legs out from under the bench man and ran. She jumped off of the roof, the moment she landed she heard the crack and knew she broke her leg, but she didn’t stop. She wasn’t about to stop so she ran, turned corners, jumped over what she could, but did not stop.she would have continued to run had someone not pulled her out of oncoming traffic and in turn her flight state.

“Hey are you okay? Can you hear me? Can you understand what I’m saying?” She finally nodded at the last question. “My name is Jim Gordon what’s your’s.” She stayed quiet. “Can you speak?” She nodded. “Do you have a name?” She stayed quiet. “Do you have someone to call?” Quiet. “Are you a street kid?” Quiet again. He pulled out a phone and spoke. “Commissioner Gordon here, I have a street kid needing medical attention, broken leg.” He hung up after giving their location. “We are going to help you okay.”

Marinette stayed quiet. When officers came, she kept quiet about herself. She only told them about her injuries but stayed quiet on the rest. If Jay was still out there, I don’t want him caught by child services.

She would have gone into child services had a couple not asked what was going to happen to her. She had noticed the couple often in the hospital but never reached out.

They ended up adopting her, unfortunately they were from Paris meaning she would have to leave the place she called home. On the flight over she would have cried leaving Gotham, but that only would have brought up questions about her past, so she fell asleep.

- - -

Five years she had been living in Paris, the city of lights, and she still missed Gotham. It’s shadows and perpetual darkness was her home. It was surprising when her class was interrupted by a villain but growing up in Gotham prepared her for that. What it didn’t prepare her for was the magical mini god named Plagg who was supposed to give her powers.

“So, can you explain this to me more.”

“Sure kid. Your powers are cataclysm, you destroy whatever you touch, but you have five minutes afterwards before you transform back. Your weapons are one ore two batons, that are extendable, but weapons depend on how comparable you are me.”

“Okay so what about that partner you mentioned?”

“They will most likely have the ladybug miraculous.”

“What does that miraculous do, as in powers wise?”

“They have lucky charm and cure, but…”

“But what Plagg?” She questioned needing to know what she was going into.

“Since this seems to be the butterfly, they also need to cleanse the butterfly.”

“Okay I think I’ve got all I need to know for now, you?”

“Hungry.”

“What do you like?”

“Cheese!”

“How do cheese danishes sound?”

“Acceptable.”

She let Plagg eat comfortably before transforming and heading out. Her partner was unbearable the moment she met him, then again that wasn’t too hard to accomplish seeing as he captured the two of them in his yo-yo string. Then during the battle, he used his lucky charm but didn’t know what to do with it. In the end she ended up taking it and defeating the akuma.

“We make a pretty good team together don’t you think?” He leaned towards her.

“Catch the butterfly.”

“What?”

“Catch the butterfly, Mister Bug!”

“Okay,” he sounded defeated and he did as he was told. Releasing a now white butterfly.

“Now cast your cure.”

“My what?”

“Did your kwamii not explain anything to you?” A sheepish smile spread across his features. “You have to be kidding me. Cast your cure by tossing your Lucky Charm but do it quick you don’t have much time left before you transform back, I’ll talk with the victim.”

“Who are you two? Are you new heroes? What are your names?” The new girl who sat next her earlier appeared spewing questions. As a swarm of ladybugs covered the scene.

“I’m Mister Bug, see you around partner.” He winked at her as he swung away.

“I’m Miss Mischief. Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to check up on the victim.” She moved past the reporter and towards Ivan, she gave him a small pep talk and with his confidence up she left.

It took her almost a month to pluck up the courage to approach Nightrunner to train her.

“Excuse moi, Monsieur Nightrunner.” She had approached one night while they were both patrolling.

“You are one of the new heroes, Mischief, right?”

“Oui. Um I was wondering, wold you be willing to train me?”

“Merde how did you become a hero then?”

“Magic jewelry appeared in my room.”

“Do you know how it appeared?”

“Apparently there is a guardian, but I don’t know who they are.”

“Do you know who your partner is?” She shook her head in response. “Merde! Okay why don’t you run patrol with me, and we’ll figure something out from there.” She nodded and the two left to finish the patrol.

- - -

To say she was surprised that she still remembered some of the things and moves she learned from living off the streets of Gotham was a huge help.

But that Bug still annoyed her to no end, they had talked the night after the first akuma, and apparently the reason why he didn’t know anything was because he was so exited to be a hero that he didn’t let his kwamii explain anything. She gave him an earful after that. Unfortunately, the red annoyance got it in his head that the two of them were soulmates.

It came to a head when during the akuma Mr. Pigeon. Bug simply summoned a lucky charm handed it to her and walked out. Sure, she defeated the akuma without using her power, and sure the bug caught the akuma and purified it, but she was so done with this. She walked out holding the luIcky charm guiding Mr. Ramier out when he approached.

“Nice work Kitty Cat.” As usual reporters surrounded them, he held out his fist for a fist bump.

She simply crossed her arms, “Thanks for the help, Bug.” Sarcasm dripped from her words like venom.

“What’s with the cold shoulder all of a sudden?” He responded.

“You left me alone to fight the Akuma on my own. Do you really expect me to sing your praises when you sat out here and did nothing?”

“But…” he thought for a moment before arriving at this sentence. “We are soulmates though don’t you trust me?”

“Yes, I trust you bug, you are my partner, but that does not answer my question. The part that we are soulmates is irrelevant and incorrect. Just because our miraculous are two halves of a whole does not mean that I have to have romantic feelings towards you. I’ll see you later for patrol” she vaulted away leaving him to stew.

Luckily, they split for patrol and she shadowed Nightrunner, and after they trained outside of the city. Which helped calm her down a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @adrestar @miraculouspenta @vixen-uchiha @animegirlweeb @jumpingjoy82 @thedragonbug @astoriaandroses @icerosecrystal @t1dwarrior-of-earth @moon5606 @zalladane

#maribat #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #ml marinette #marinette todd #sibling jasonette #cat!marinette #nightrunner #maribatmarch2021 #miss mischief #miss mischief au

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Part 18

Request: Yes or No

Also kind of short

You stared out at the river, fingers warm from the heat of the mug in your hands. You felt tired, empty, and disappointed. The roof was a nice place to sit and think. Your gaze dropped down to the ground below.

"I don't believe this is the safest way to test your abilities, (Y/N). Especially since Sam doesn't have on his wings." Vision said in concern, watching Sam hype himself up. You shook your head, laughing.

"It's definitely not safe." You grinned, watching Sam. He looked down from his spot on the roof, shaking off nerves.

"Run the idea by me again." Vision said as Wanda chuckled softly.

"Alright, Sam is gonna jump off the roof and I'm gonna use my powers to keep up in the air. If they don't work, Wanda will catch him."

"You're gonna allow this, Wanda?" Vision looked at the redhead. Wanda shrugged, sipping on her tea with a small smile.

"Ready?" Sam called, sliding down his googles. You nodded, backing up a bit, grinning widely. Sam backed up out of sight before running off the roof. You raised your hand, watching him suddenly fly up. He screamed, arms and legs flailing.

"You might gonna to catch him, Vis!" You called as Sam briefly disappeared past a cloud. Vision flew up, catching Sam and flying back to the ground. Sam raised a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat as he panted.

"Again?"

"Again."

"Kind of chilly out here, don't you think?" You turned your head, looking at Tony. He took a seat beside you, sighing.

"So, how'd it go?" Tony asked, turning to look at you. You licked your lips, lightly shrugging as you sipped on your hot chocolate.

"Good. I learned a lot about my family. It was confirmed that, uh, I was indeed abandoned by my mother. It's great." You told him, giving a small nod. Tony hummed.

"It builds character." Tony said. You snorted, looking down at the hot chocolate.

"Yeah, I guess so." You muttered.

"What'd you learn?" Tony asked, watching you. You sighed, head tilting up. You stared at the passing clouds.

"That my dad was killed here... By.. The Winter Soldier." You breathed out. Tony stayed silent, frowning as he nodded.

"I.. I can't blame him. He was brainwashed and not in control. How did you react when you found out about Bucky and your parents?" You asked, looking at him. Tony licked his lips, looking away from you. He seemed to think about his words, eyes squinting slightly.

"I.. I was more hurt by Rogers than by what Barnes did. Rogers kept it from me and he never planned on telling me. Even if we didn't consider each other friends.. We were teammates. How was I supposed to be okay with trusting him with my life when he was never gonna tell me about my parents?" Tony frowned, sighing heavily. You bit your bottom lip.

"I'm sorry Steve betrayed you like that." You said softly. You wouldn't want to work with someone who betrayed you either. You took in a small breath, looking at him curiously.

"Do you think Steve knows? About my dad?"

"Unless Barnes saw some similarities between you and your dad, probably not. Your dad covered his tracks. He made sure he wouldn't be connected to his family. Very smart of him." Tony offered a small smile. You reached into your back pocket, taking out a photo. It was of the whole family. Your grandparents, Florine, Michael, and even Gerdie as a pup. You turned it around to the back, looking at the phone number.

'Call when you need me, kid'

"People really need to stop calling me kid." You mumbled, huffing softly. Tony chuckled.

"You look like one."

"Oh, fuck off, old man." You gave Tony a playful glare. He scoffed, touching his chest dramatically.

"Are you really gonna retire? I mean, at this point, you're asking to be called an old man." You pointed out, grinning when Tony rolled his eyes.

"Pepper and Morgan need me. I don't want to be an absent father. I know how it feels to have one and.. I don't want to be like my father. I won't make the same mistakes."

"You'll make new mistakes." You shrugged lightly. Tony shot you a look. "But I'm sure you're a great father!"

"Right." Tony grunted, shaking his head. You chuckled softly, placing your cup beside you. You inhaled softly.

"When I was drunk.. I vividly remembering saying that you suck before passing out. What happened?"

"Oh, you were a goddamn mess. Definitely an emotional drunk." Tony replied, making you groan softly, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

"You said I was a lucky bastard and you cried.. You also kissed me." Tony looked at you, gaze searching for a reaction. Your lips parted, brows raising.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Uhm.." You licked your lips, straightening up and clearing your throat. You stayed silent, thinking of what to say in response.

"Pepper doesn't have to know. It was a drunk kiss that nobody really saw, right? I mean, I already have enough on my plate. I don't need an angry wife on top of that." You blurted out, shrugging lightly. Tony cleared his throat, nodding.

"Yeah, of course. It barely lasted a second." Tony looked forward, scratching the side of his neck. Awkward silence took over, both you and Tony unsure on how to proceed without making things even more weird.

"How are you?" Tony suddenly asked, turning towards you. "Like, in general."

"Terrible."

"Yeah, I feel that. Wanna... Wanna talk about it?" Tony asked. You stared at him, brows furrowing.

"Are you practicing on me for when Morgan needs a talk with you?" You questioned, head tilting slightly. Tony shrugged.

"Yes and no."

"That's nice." You huffed softly, gaze drifting towards the setting sun. You watched him, shoulders slumping.

"I feel.. Incredibly alone. Yeah, Nat is here but I can't rely on her. She has her own issues to deal with. Bruce... Bruce is god fucking knows where and if I tried talking to him, he'd probably just stand there. Clint is also god fucking knows where. Thor fucked off the moment they came back from killing Thanos. The outerspace crew is kind of weird. Steve is... Steve. He'd just give me a speech and a pat on the shoulder. Carol barely comes to Earth and she's also pretty intimidating." You licked your lips, shaking your head as you brought your knees up to your chest.

"The people I used to talk to have either.. Died or chosen to leave. I have to take care of a big ass fucking farmhouse cause its goddamn owner left! My life is slowly falling apart and I have to comfort myself cause nobody seems to care enough! I am so fucking tired of feeling tired. I thought I had found a family but I guess I'm not good enough for those." You raised your voice, feeling the wind get harsh for a quick minute. You let out a deep breath, eyes shutting to keep the tears from falling. You felt an arm wrap around your shoulders, gently leaning you against a warm body. You sniffle, a shakey sigh leaving you.

"And I am so tired of crying." You whispered. Tony gently leaned his head against yours, hand squeezing your arm.

"I know.. I'm sorry." He said quietly. You relaxed against him, feeling numb and empty. You looked down at the photo. You wondered if this was the life Michael had wanted for you. To be a hero to a planet missing fifty percent of its inhabitants.

"You know what might make you feel better?" Tony asked.

"What?" You sat up, using the sleeve of your jacket to wipe your nose as you sniffled. Tony stood, motioning for you to follow. He offered his hand, watching you pick up the mug. You took his hand, holding it as Tony led you off the roof and down the stairs. You placed the mug on the nearest table, letting him guide you outside and onto the field. You stood in the middle, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"Letting it out." He finally answered, letting go of your hand and taking some steps back. He raised his arms.

"Let it out. Scream, kick, punch, curse. Let it all out." Tony said, smiling widely. You sniffled, still unsure.

"C'mon, I'll do it with you. On a count of three, okay? One... Two... Three!" You inhaled with Tony, eyes shutting as you screamed as loud as you could. You heard Tony chuckle in amazement, opening your eyes. You noticed he had been knocked down onto the grass, the trees nearby having been bent back by the wind. The grass around your feet were burned and gray clouds had formed in the sky. You noticed Tony looking up at something behind you so you turned, blinking and slowly looking up at the large ice spikes that almost reached the clouds.

"Holy shit." You whispered, taking a step back.

"You're still on the tip of the iceberg with your powers, Elsa." Tony said, getting up as it began to thunder. You felt some weight off your chest, turning to face you.

"You know.. That actually did help." You chuckled, smiling gently.

"Well, I am a genius." Tony replied, digging into his pocket and pulling out car keys.

"I should get going. Pepper's cooking dinner and I don't want to miss it." Tony said. You nodded, walking with him towards the road. A sports car drove out of the garage, stopping infront of Tony.

"All my things have already been sent home." Tony said, looking at you. You hummed, nodding.

"You can be an asshole sometimes but.. You'll be missed." You told him softly. Tony gave a genuine soft smile.

"You should visit, kid. You might like my new place." Tony said, opening the door and getting in.

"Give me a call and I'll visit when I can." You said, watching him buckle up. Tony nodded, sliding on sunglasses.

"I'll be seeing you."

"Not really looking forward to it." You replied, hearing a small snort before the car drove off. You watched it go, sighing softly. You looked over at the spikes, licking your lips.

"What more can I do?"

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace @jjk-is-my-shit

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lunaekalenda · 3 years

Note

heyyy can I request a fic where your helping Jean get with Mikasa in a modern au and it works. It hurts a lot tho because you like him but at least he’s happy. But then his friend Marco asks you out and you’ve always thought he was attractive and you find yourself happier with Marco and Jean sees you two on a date and he gets all sour and jealous? I love your work btw!💕

wow yes!! :D thank you so much and i hope you like it! i’m sorry for the waiting <3

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

❁ jean x mikasa, reader x marco.

❁ modern au

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

"Look, Kirstein, is all about the tactics."

"Tactics?" he asks. You nod twice. He's sitting on your sofa, his hands holding a slice of pizza that he bought coming here. He told you he needed your help so bad. So bad.

“Mikasa is not going to go out with you if you just look at her shyly while she walks. You need to talk to her.” He looks at you, understanding. It hurts you to help him get with Mikasa, the girl that he liked since the start. Marco appears from your kitchen with a glass of water on his hand. He sits next to Jean, taking also a slice of pizza from the box. Marco is Jean’s best friend, so when he told he was head to your house, you also expected him to bring Marco.

“Mikasa has zero interest in you. Just think there are more people out there that are really cute and are looking for someone like you.” Marco says.

You wish Jean to notice you. It’s fine, he does like Mikasa a lot, but you like him as much as he does. You’re helping him to get with Mikasa because you know how much he likes her. You don’t want to be that bad friend who just wants him to yourself. You want to be happy and free, want him to choose because it’s his life and not yours.

On the other side of the sofa, Marco knows you like Jean. He obviously knows. Jean seems to be the only one that doesn’t get it. Marco doesn’t know why he is so blind. Maybe because he has that fixation on Mikasa, he’s loosing the amazing person that is looking at him with such a beautiful smile.

Marco has noticed you, of course he did. It’s not difficult to feel a little bit attracted to you. How you're always smiling and helping everyone. Your beautiful face and the precious body you have. All those things always make Marco blush when you talk to him.

Jean is now convinced to speak to Mikasa, so he takes out his phone and asks her if she wants to drink something the next afternoon.

“Jean! That’s too repenting!” Marco says, but, Jean smiles. His phone has sounded and a notification entered.

“She said yes.” He says quietly. Marco looks at you surprised, and you look at Jean’s fingers, writing an answer for her. You smile at him when he looks at you, but you’re a little bit sad. Marco keeps his gaze on you, searching any reaction. But you smile at him again.

“Wow, it’s your opportunity, Jean!” you say. He nods happily.

The date went well the next day. Jean sent you a whole audio message telling you how well it went. Eventually, those two started dating. You and Marco got closer, since the three of you usually made plans, but now Jean was spending a lot of time with Mikasa, so you two madr plans together.

"I hope Jean and Mikasa last, like he really loved her." Marco says. You play with the straw of your milkshake between your fingers, and the boy in front of you looks around. "Are you sad yet?". You look at him, his cheeks full of freckles and his sweet eyes looking at you. He smiles. "You'll find another one, you're a great person." he says. Maybe he has said too much? He looks at you but you're still playing with the straw.

"Yes. Well, if he didn't notice it, and we were literally inseparable, i don't know who is going to notice me..." you say quietly. Marco is looking at your fingers moving around the straw, and you look at him. You always felt an strange attraction to Marco. He is the opposite to Jean: his sweet and soft smile, his cheeks full of freckles, his messy hairstyle and his generous eyes against Jean's flirty smile, his plump lips and his sharp features. They were totally different, though the two of them were nice to you. Jean is more flirty and teasing; Marco is more sweet and warm-hearted.

"Y/N?" he asks. You have been looking at him and thinking on your own things you didn't notice when he talked again.

"Sorry, Marco." he laugh quietly.

"It's fine. Should we go?" he asks. You nod. The night is cold but quiet. You two walk in silence. Jean send you a text.

"Are you still drinking something? Am i late?" he asks. You answer that he is. "Sorry, I promise to go to the next one!" he says. You send him an emoji and keep walking.

"Jean?" he asks. You nod. The conversation dies there, and you keep walking silently. "I don't know how he didn't notice you." he says. You look at him. "You always looked at him with such an interest. Always there to help him and to have his back. He should give you an opportunity. You're amazing." You look at Marco. He gives you a soft smile.

"I think I'm maybe not that amazing." you say. What does Mikasa have than you don't have?

"You are. Don't put less value on yourself just because he has choosen her." he says. His shoulder finds yours jokingly.

But you don't think he's joking. He is serious, his words are serious. That's what he thinks about you.

Does Marco like you? Were you involved in a love triangle all this time, but all the relations were one-sided?

Since he showed you what he thinks about you, a little love flame started to grow between you two. A slow burn love that started to gain weight on all the afternoons you spend with him, waiting for a Jean that never comes, and always apologizes. "Mikasa told me to accompany her" "Mikasa is helping Eren, so I should go and help too." You're not angry with him, he's enjoying his new relationship. And so are you two, sitting a little bit closer every day and touching each other more naturally. You don't know how you two started dating, none of you asked the other. He knew he wanted to be with you and you knew you wanted to be with him. A first kiss on your main door closed the pact about your relationship.

You are now sitting on the grass, your head on Marco's lap. His hands caressing your hair under a tree shadow. It was a hot day, and you two decided to spend it on a date. A real date, not you two waiting for Jean. One only you knew.

"Ah, it's really hot today." he says. His hands braid your hair softly, and you hum in response. "Should we go and drink something? We could go to the cafeteria that has that cookies milkshake you like..." he says. You smile and, opening your eyes to look at him, find his smile. He tilts his head down and gives you a little kiss. "Let's go, then."

You're not playing with the straw this time. You have something that grabs your hand. A big, soft and warm hand cages yours and a cute boy smiles at you while you talk. Marco's personality was made for you, as yours was made for him. That's something he likes to remind you, how you two are like puzzle pieces.

"Oh, hi!" you hear a voice you know really well behind you. Jean is walking, with Mikasa on his side. She smiles at you and you smile at her back. But the repentine voice scared you a bit. Jean's hazel eyes looks at your hands, yours inside Marco's. He raises an eyebrow a little bit, just a little. "Am I interrupting?" he asks. Marco shakes his head, smiling at him as if nothing happens. Jean nods. "Yeah. So, you two...?" he asks. He doesn't end the phrase but you know what he wants to say.

"Well, we're dating." Marco answers simply. He has changed from the sweet boy you saw earlier, he's more sharp. Jean nods.

"Good for you two. Well, we reserved the next table for our date." Jean says, his hand searching Mikasa's, holding her. "So, well. We'll go and enjoy the date."

"So we do." Marco smiles at him. What's this game going on between this two?

"Oh, you're on a date?" Jean says. His hazel eyes are now fixed on Marco's ones. Mikasa looks at you and you look at her. She's beautiful, her long black hair moving softly every time she moves her head to look at her boyfriend. Marco caresses your hand with his thumb, maybe knowing all the thoughts you're having. You shake your head a bit. Marco doesn't deserve that. Hou should forget about Jean. He was your first crush and he doesn't have interest in you. Also, you're now dating a wonderful boy. You can't do this to Marco.

"We are. That's what couples do. I thought maybe y/n would like to have their favorite milkshake after a long day out." he says. Jean looks now at your glass, half empty. All the cookies are mixed with the cream. He nods.

"Fine. We'll have also some milkshakes. The ones made here are the best of the city." he says. Now he talks to Mikasa. "Strawberry milkshake, sweetie?"

She nods shyly. Marco looks at him.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your date as much as we do." he says, venenous words coming out of his mouth. Jean smiles.

"We'll do. We'll do. Marco, y/n." he says, before leaving with Mikasa.

Even when his hands are on Mikasa's waist, guiding her towards the table, he only thinks about you.

Maybe it's the old tale about a boy that doesn't know what he has until he loses it.

And Jean hates losing.

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alj4890 · 3 years

Text

All Through The Night

A Choices: The Royal Romance Dark AU fanfiction.

A/N Other than my few Bloodbound shorts, I’ve never written anything with supernatural overtones before. After receiving requests to see Liam and Riley’s story if he was a vampire, this storyline was born. Since it is set in one of my favorite books from Pixelberry, I had to include as many of the main and supporting characters as I could. The following chapters will explain more where they and what our main characters are. Not going to lie, I am very anxious to step out of my comfort zone for this, but I’m also super excited to see how it goes. Along with The Royal Romance, I will be referencing and altering both The Crown and The Flame and The Royal Masquerade.

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @twinkleallnight @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms

Masterlist

Prologue

Once upon a time...

"Father!" Zenobia rushed down the stairwell. "Kenna is at the gates!"

King Luthor's frown deepened as he studied the places his troops had been destroyed. His hope to unite the five kingdoms and wipe off the abomination was for naught.

Kenna would not stop until he and his surviving offspring's heads were on pikes.

...until their blood filled the crystal goblets of the Dark Queen.

"What do we do?" His son, Diavolos, asked.

Luthor knew it was only himself Kenna wanted. After he had killed her mother, hoping to stop the monsters once and for all, Kenna would have her revenge.

If only he had known that she was a vampire...just like her mother.

"Listen carefully." His voice trembled at this possibly being the last time he was able to speak to his son and daughter. "A Nevarkis must always be ready to fight the creatures that prey on the weak and vulnerable."

"But..." Zenobia sniffed. "How? How can we possibly kill the unkillable?"

"She can be killed just like her mother before her." Luthor snapped. "Sunlight. A dagger to the heart. Cutting the head off." His features hardened with resolve. "Know that those are our true allies. Continue your training with daggers. Never stop being vigilant. Educate your children. And remember: where there's one vampire, many more lie in wait in the shadows."

Diavolos stepped forward and gripped his father's shoulder. "We will fight for you."

"No." Luthor corrected. "Fight for our people. The innocent. Fight for a chance to live without fear of monsters."

He cleared his throat. "If I should die--"

"Don't say that!" Zenobia screeched. "We'll be--"

"Kenna is coming for me." Luthor interrupted. "I know I must face the consequences of my actions."

"But--" Divalos lowered his head. "What are we to do?"

"Kill her." Luthor ordered. "Let your emotion be your strength." He took their hands. "And remember that a vampire is nature's evil incarnate. They will do whatever they want and kill anyone who they think is in their way." His voice turned to pleading. "Kill Kenna before she has a chance to kill you."

Zenobia nodded in a jerky manner. Diavolos swallowed with tears in his eyes.

"Good. Now prepare yourselves." Luthor pulled his sword from its sheath. "The devil herself is here."

*****************

Two years later...

Kenna cuddled her infant son, humming a lullaby.

Dom came in, a soft smile gracing his lips at the sight of his family.

"How are we this evening?" He asked, placing a kiss first on her lips then one on his son's forehead.

"A little fussy." Kenna explained. "But otherwise perfect."

"Good." Dom stretched then went to stoke the fire. "I will be going out later tonight."

Kenna's head jerked up. "Why? Are there more rumors?"

He nodded, a determined frown formed on his lips. "The Nevarkis brats refuse to let us live in peace." He moved to stand before the window that looked out toward the kingdom he had once lived in.

High in the mountains, the couple and those like them had found sanctuary. They built a kingdom, one of darkness and shadow that allowed them to live freely. He and Kenna were crowned the rulers, chosen by their people...those that were cursed as monsters.

"Si and I will be standing guard." He explained. "I will not risk you or our child."

"Dom..." Kenna pulled him close, capturing his lips in a long tender kiss. "This must end. I was foolish to let my need for revenge take over." Tears sparkled in her eyes. "Luthor might have left us alone if I had given him a chance."

Dom's face contorted into furious hatred. "A Nevarkis can never be trusted!" He gripped her waist, hands heating as he lost his temper. "He would have plunged a dagger into your heart the first chance he had."

"Dom." She said softly when he singed her clothes.

He wrenched his hands from her with a grimace. "I didn't burn you, did I?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine." She tried to lighten the mood. "Just a little overheated."

He took deep breaths to get himself under control. "Stay here where it is safe." His eyes searched hers. "Have you fed recently?"

"No, but I should be fine until you return." Kenna lifted a bottle with blood for their son. "I can call on one of the servants to help me if I need to."

"Promise me you won't go outside." He pleaded.

"Only if you promise to come back to me." She responded.

His lips quirked in that cocky smile she has always adored.

"Always, my queen." He kissed her once more, then slipped out the door to search out their enemies.

******************

Present Day New York...

"Cordonia...land of both beauty and mystery." Riley wrinkled her nose. "Boring."

"No, it isn't." Hana argued. "I think that is the perfect beginning."

"Look at the comments from our last video." Riley swiveled her laptop so her friend could see. "People love our walkthroughs and all but hate my narration."

"Well..." Hana's brow furrowed. "Maybe we should try to add more to it than just narration." She pulled out some sketches. "We could add some animation of the history before showing our footage of the country."

"That might work." Riley mumbled, tapping her pen against her notebook.

The two set to work planning their next project.

After years of trying, they had finally achieved their dream of traveling for a living. The two college friends had taken every class they could on how to make their hopes into a reality. With Riley's love of history and business and Hana's talent with art and fashion, the pair had created a successful travel channel that showcased rarely visited countries and cities around the world.

Hana took care of all the shopping and dining found at their chosen destinations. Her "day trips" were hailed as must see for anyone planning a vacation. Riley took over for what could be found at night. Myths and legends blended in with what could be discovered once the sun set. A place's nightlife was thoroughly researched and reached a wide variety of their audience, causing many to plan a vacation just on her recommendations alone.

"Did your mom suggest where we should go first?" Riley asked, after skimming the same few articles about the elusive country.

"Not really." Hana hedged.

Riley glanced up. "Is she giving you a hard time again?"

"Yes." Hana slumped in her chair. "She told me to call when I was done playing tour guide."

"Geez." Riley grumbled. "Does she not realize that we have created a legit business?"

"Ladies shouldn't be involved in anything that does not pertain to their husband and family." Hana quoted. "I was supposed to have my debut to Cordonian society last year." Angry tears filled her eyes. "She still hasn't forgiven me for missing out on the Masquerade Ball."

Riley wrapped her in a comforting hug. "I'm sorry."

Hana patted her back. "Don't be. I finally feel like I can accomplish anything."

"That's because you can." Riley sat back with a grin. "Especially with planning out what we should focus on first."

Hana giggled as she went to search out some of her old books she had inherited from her grandparents. "These might help you with your part."

Riley's eyebrows lifted over the titles. "The Crown, the Flame, and The Night Queen."

"That is the earliest recorded story of vampires and monsters in Cordonia." Hana explained. "Queen Kenna Rhys and King Luthor Nevarkis both fought over uniting the kingdoms that make up Cordonia." She shook her head in disbelief. "There is a legend that Queen Kenna was a vampire that married a man who could transform into a dragon."

"For real?" Riley eagerly opened the book. "What happened?"

"Luthor died." Hana reached for another history book. "Some say it was a sword fight while others say she ripped his throat out with her fangs."

"Whoa. Either way, she sounds pretty epic."

"His son got revenge though." Hana flipped to another chapter. "He sneaked in one day and supposedly dragged Kenna into the sunlight. Before her husband could save her, she burned to ash."

"Brutal." Riley shivered. "What did the dragon do?"

Hana shrugged. "Supposedly he left with their child to protect him." She pointed at some drawings rendered from the Dark Ages. "Kenna's son came back to extract revenge. He eliminated one entire side of the Nevarkis family tree."

"And let me guess," Riley picked up another book. "The remaining Nevarkis's struck back?"

"It's supposedly been a feud for centuries between the Nevarkis and the Rhys' families." Hana pulled up an image on her phone. "Though one is currently ruling Cordonia."

Riley studied the image. "Queen Olivia Nevarkis. Looks like the Rhys lost the throne."

Hana shrugged. "There's a myth that they still rule Cordonia from the shadows."

"Mythical royal vampires, huh?" Riley laughed at the thought. "I hope I bump into one just so I can figure out who's really in charge."

Hana giggled at the thought. "You would be the only person to ask a logical, government question instead of the usual, whoa you're a real live vampire!"

Riley threw a pillow at her. "Hey! I can be calm and collected when faced with the unknown."

Hana threw the pillow back. "Tell that to the supposed haunted house we visited on our last trip." She broke out into laughter with Riley's defense that squeaking doors were the true villains. "On that note, I'm going to start packing. Our flight leaves first thing in the morning."

"I'll be ready." Riley promised.

Once alone, she flipped to a more current timeline of the supposed Dark Kingdom.

King Constantine Rhys the Third rules over what is his rightful kingdom. Rumors swirl that he is simply biding his time until he can eliminate the usurper, Queen Olivia Nevarkis, First of Her Name. The people know that one day, a Rhys will sit upon the throne, uniting the Dark Kingdom and Cordonia once and for all.

****************

Cordonia's Royal Palace, 2 a.m.

"Heeeerah! Olivia threw her daggers as hard as she could while doing a roundhouse kick.

The blades struck into the chest, head, and groin of the makeshift dummy.

She brushed the few strands of red hair that had escaped her hair clip out of her eyes. With a great deal of scrutiny, she studied her dagger placement.

"The one to the head needs to go deeper."

She spun around with a start at that all too familiar voice.

"You're late." She folded her arms and tapped her foot.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Had to stop off for a quick bite."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "That's not funny."

"Not that kind of bite." He teased, holding up a styrofoam box.

"Oh." She blinked in surprise. "I forget that you enjoy normal food too."

He chuckled at that. "There are certain foods that I don't think any man could ever give up."

Olivia decided to ignore that as she wiped the sweat from her face and neck. "Now that you're here, let's get the formalities over with."

"Very well." Liam gestured toward her. "You may go first."

She sat down on a bench lining one side of the palace gym. She motioned for him to join her.

"Not you!" She hissed when she saw his all too familiar guard.

Drake Walker bristled at her tone. His brown eyes clashed with her green.

"Give us a moment, please." Liam asked him.

"Don't let your guard down." Drake warned. "Remember, she's a Nevarkis."

Olivia tensed. "Perhaps you should remember what happened the last time you said something like that."

She quirked one eyebrow at the man and felt a sense of glee when he winced in memory.

His hand automatically drifted to his side where one of her daggers had once struck true.

With a quick bow to Liam, Drake stepped back out into the hallway.

Liam shook his head. "Are you two ever going to get along?"

"Stop talking stupid." Olivia snapped. "Now then, as you know...I must have my revenge."

"I know." Liam folded his arms and leaned casually against a column.

She eyed him for any sign of hatred.

It drove her crazy how unvampiric he could be.

He seemed almost human.

He seemed...kind.

A vampire is nature's evil incarnate. You can never trust a Rhys.

Those words had been drummed into her skull by her parents and then her aunt after their deaths by Constantine's hand.

And yet...Liam had done the unthinkable.

He had actually been a friend to Olivia.

*************

The night after her parents' funeral, five year old Olivia had been sitting alone before the fireplace, weeping over them.

Her aunt had left her to deal with her own grief and to plan the next attack upon Constantine.

As she searched for a tissue, Olivia jumped back with a shriek at the little blonde haired boy that held the Kleenex box.

His eyes were filled with unshed tears as he handed her a tissue.

"Who are you?" She asked, remembering that a Nevarkis must always be brave.

"I'm Liam." He explained. "I wanted to...I wanted to tell you I'm sorry about your parents." He sniffed and took a tissue for himself. "My mom died too."

Olivia blinked and took a cautious step forward. "Are you...are you a vampire?!"

He nodded.

She whipped out the dagger her mother had given her and rushed at him.

Liam moved faster than she could comprehend, gently keeping her hand above her head.

"Let go of me, monster!" She ordered. "You're why I'm all alone!"

"I didn't do anything." He told her, anguish taking over his handsome features. "I don't want to hurt you or anyone."

"Liar!" She snapped. "That's what you do. Lie and kill." Her tears ran faster down her cheeks. "And now you'll kill me."

"I won't." He promised. "I swear I won't hurt you." He ignored his own tears trickling down his cheeks. His blue eyes burned with resolve. "My mother made me promise never to hurt a human."

Olivia shook her head. It had to be lies. Isn't that what vampires and monsters do? Lull you into letting your guard down so that they could have an easy kill.

"Your father will pay for what he did." She said, hoping to see his true, evil nature. "He must die!"

"I know." Liam slowly released her and took a step back.

Olivia watched in surprise as he sat down before her fireplace and pulled out a silk blue ribbon from his pocket.

He motioned for her to join him.

She slowly lowered herself down, dagger poised in her little fist in case he made a move.

"May I have your hand, please?" He asked.

He patiently waited on her to decide whether or not to give it to him.

She tentatively placed her hand in his.

His lips turned up into a relieved smile as he wrapped the ribbon over their joined hands.

"What are you doing?" She asked, lowering her dagger.

"Making a bond." He explained. "I, Liam Rhys, Crown Prince of the Dark Kingdom, promise to never seek out revenge and to end all vendettas against the Nevarkis family." His blue eyes held her green. "Just as my mother, Queen Eleanor wanted me to."

Oliva's lips parted. "You mean it?"

"I do." Liam's voice held a great deal of sincerity. "I would rather walk into the sun than not do as she asked."

"Oh." Olivia sniffed. She could understand that kind of devotion.

"Do you," Liam's cheeks colored. "Do you think we can be allies?"

"A Nevarkis will never be friends with a monster." She repeated the rhetoric that she knew by heart.

"But," Liam's shoulders slumped. "We're not all bad."

"All monsters are bad at heart."

"I'm not." He pouted. "I don't want to be."

"You're so weird." She muttered.

"Am not." Liam grumbled. "I hope I'm not."

Olivia looked down at their hands still bound together. "I guess since you promised something, I should too."

He didn't bother to hide his surprise.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I, Olivia Nevarkis, The Crown Princess of Cordonia, swear that after I kill Constantine Rhys, I will lay down my weapons." Her brow furrowed. "I'll pick them back up though if you or any other monster tries anything."

Liam's smile grew. Before she could react, he tugged her into a quick hug.

"Now we can be friends!" He cheered.

"Friends?" She shook her head. "I'm a Nevarkis and you're a Rhys. We can't be friends."

"We will be." He vowed, jumping to his feet. "I have to go before Father finds out I've sneaked out. I'll try to come back in a few nights."

Olivia didn't have a chance to tell him whether or not she wanted him to. In the blink of an eye, he had jumped from her balcony and was already out the palace gates.

*****************

That had been the beginning of Liam's visits. Through the years, he had remained true to his promise. He did all he could to befriend her and never tried to sway her from seeking vengeance.

Olivia had once asked him how he could take her threat against his father so easily.

He had merely shrugged, explaining that he knew it was the way of things. His father had killed both her parents, while he had only lost one. He hoped she didn't since he did not wish to see his father or her dead.

Olivia had then told him again how weird he was, bringing another smile to his lips.

And now here he was again, calmly taking her promised vengeance well.

"So what business brings you here tonight?" She asked.

"Father thinks it is time I chose a wife." Liam responded. "I thought you should know that I will be spending more time in your kingdom to find one."

Olivia shot up off the bench. "What? But you promised to never hurt a human!"

"And I will keep true to that." He explained.

"But..." Olivia's brow furrowed. "You'll turn her into a vampire."

"Only if she wishes it." Liam explained. "I won't force her to make such a decision."

"I see." She began to pace while thinking. "You'll have vampire children."

"Only if she's a vampire." He reminded her. "Remember my brother."

Olivia paused. She had forgotten about Leo Rhys, The Great Disappointment of the Dark Kingdom. His mother had begged Constantine not to turn her. It had never been asked before, and in his mercy he had agreed. That was when they all discovered that a monster and a human could only produce a human child. In order for the heir to the Dark Kingdom to be a vampire, both parents had to be the same being.

"And you'll be fine having human children?" She asked. "If you're chosen bride refuses the Vampire's Kiss?"

"Of course." He responded.

"Lord, you're so weird." She muttered.

His smirk flashed. "Let's hope the woman I choose doesn't think so."

"Are there no women in your kingdom you can choose from?" She asked.

"I've looked." He shook his head. "It's hard to explain, but if one doesn't have an arranged marriage, then we must search until we see the one meant for us."

"And you somehow got weirder." She brushed her hands down her pants and held one out to him. "Good luck, I suppose."

"Thank you." He grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips. "I'll keep you updated on my progress."

"There's no need."

"Of course there is." He winked at her on his way out. "We're friends."

Her lips parted to once again remind him that they couldn't be. For some reason, she decided not to say it.

Liam had somehow wormed his way into her life and had become the closest friend she had ever had.

********************

The Lee Residence, Shanghai, China...

Lorelei paled as she reread the report.

It can’t be. Not Now!

Of all the times for this to happen, it would be when her stubborn, foolish daughter decided to visit.

Given the nature of her relationship with Hana, she knew that there was no way she could convince her to postpone her trip to Cordonia.

There was only one course of action left to take. She would have to call the one man who was capable of protecting her daughter. She would promise hiim anything as long as he kept Hana out of Liam’s clutches. As much as wanted her to give up this ridiculous hobby she called a job and settled down with the right sort of man, she would never put her in the path of becoming the next vampire queen.

Setting down the packet of information from one of her informants, she checked to make certain no servant was out in the hallway and then searched for the needed phone number.

Taking a deep breath, she placed the call.

Her trepidation grew when he didn’t immediately answer.

"Hello."

"Lord Beaumont?"

"Yes." She could hear a door closing in the background. "Who is this?"

"Lorelei Lee." She replied.

"Lady Lorelei." He responded with a recognition. "How can I help you?"

"My daughter and her friend have got it in their heads to come visit Cordonia." She began. "I'm not certain how long they intend to stay, but I was hoping that I could retain your services."

"For what exactly?" Lord Beaumont asked.

"Protection." She replied. "I have heard through certain channels that the dark prince is beginning to search for a bride." She took a deep breath. "We do NOT want our daughter anywhere near that vile creature."

"I understand." He replied. "I usually don't do personal security. With my brother, Bertrand, retired," he hesitated, "it is left up to me to help protect Cordonia's borders."

"My husband and I would be in your debt if you could watch over her in the evenings." Lorelei cajoled. "I've heard that your brother is planning on extending his vineyards. We would be more than happy to invest in the production and distribution of his sparkling wine. Perhaps even let it be the only sparkling wine we serve in our hotels."

"Send me her information and picture. Call her and tell her that since our family is an old friend of yours, that I've volunteered to show them around. Find out where she's staying and when she plans on arriving."

"Oh thank you, my lord. We--"

"I'll also need a contract prepared and signed for all that you offered." He added.

"Yes of course. I'll get everything to you at once." She promised.

Once he ended the call, she sank back down onto her chair.

She bowed her head and began to pray that her daughter came to no harm these next few weeks. To lose Hana to one of the many creatures that roamed the night in Cordonia was too horrible to even contemplate.

If anyone could keep her daughter safe then it was none other than Lord Maxwell Beaumont.

#liam x riley #choices the royal romance #hana x rashad #leo x madeleine #maxwell x oc #olivia nevrakis #drake walker #trr dark au #vampire au

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a-simple-gaywitch · 4 years

Text

Composed of the Elements

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When a case takes the team to (Y/N)'s home town, her best friend Spencer helps her leave all the baggage behind.

Title Song: Sweet as Whole, Sara Bareilles

Word Count: 2705

Warnings: high school bullying, brief mentions of a case, smoking

“Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.” -Oscar Wilde

You walked into the bullpen with a coffee in one hand and your phone in the other.

“Morning, (Y/N),” your best friend, Spencer, called from his desk.

“Morning, Spence.” You sat down at your desk. Before you could get settled, JJ announced a case.

“We’ve been called in to a small town in Indiana,” JJ said, clicking on the slide projector.

“Wait. When you say small town…” you said, feeling your body tense.

“We’re going to (L/N)’s hometown,” Hotch confirmed. After going over the details of the case, he said, “Wheels up in thirty.”

Spencer reached for your arm, but you were up and moving to the bullpen before he could catch you. He watched as you grabbed your bag from your desk, ignoring Morgan’s attempts at conversation. Your usual peppy, outgoing self was gone, replaced with a stranger.

When the team gathered on the jet, they discussed the case together. You sat at the back of the cabin, staring out at the clouds, tapping on the table in front of you.

“Hey.” You looked up to see Gideon sitting in front of you. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “I never thought I’d be going back there. I thought I could leave and never look back.”

“Hey, I know it isn’t easy, but we need your help. You know this town and the people in it. That can help us.”

You sighed and stood up. “Fine.” Walking over to the team, you said, “One thing you need to know about these people: they don’t like outsiders. At all.”

“What do you mean by outsiders?” Hotch asked.

You scoffed. “Anyone who isn’t born and raised in the town. Even if you’ve lived there for years, if you weren’t born in Newton, you’re not to be trusted. You’ll see first-hand when we meet with the local PD.”

“What about the victims?” Derek asked you.

“I knew both of them in high school,” you said, flicking through the file. “But I don’t know what anyone has been doing with their lives.”

Spencer couldn’t help but notice the sadness in your eyes. Despite his aversion to touch, he reached out and rested his hand on top of yours. You were his safety net. He loved you, as more than just his best friend.

When the team got to the police station, you stuck to the back of the group while JJ and Hotch made introductions.

“Detective Miller,” Hotch said, holding his hand out. “I’m Agent Hotchner. You’ve already spoken to Agent Jareau. This is SSA Gideon, Dr. Reid, SSA Morgan, and SSA (L/N).”

“Wait. Little nerdy (Y/N) (L/N)?” the detective said, finally noticing you. “Wow, who would have thought you’d come back to Newton?” You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes down.

“Do you have a place we can set up a case board?” Spencer asked, noticing your unease.

“Sure.”

“Did you know the victims well?” JJ asked him.

The detective nodded. “We all do. Kelly’s my son’s teacher. Julia and I dated in high school. Our kids are friends.”

“Does everyone in town know each other well?” JJ asked as she helped you pin the crime scene photos to the board.

“Of course. We’re like a family. When your town only has 300 people, you have to look out for each other.” You couldn’t hold back your scoff. “You have something to say there, (Y/N)?”

“She’s Agent (L/N) to you,” Gideon interrupted. “JJ, Julia Coleman’s family is here.”

“You look different,” Detective Miller said to you as you worked late to help nail down the profile. “You look good.”

“Detective Miller-”

“Come on, you can call me Tim.” He stepped closer to you. “You don’t have to be so professional.”

“Excuse me,” you said, though it was no more than a whisper. You slipped out of the room and stood outside the precinct, leaning against the wall. You pulled a small box out of your jacket pocket.

“Since when do you smoke?” Spencer asked you, coming up next to you.

You lit a cigarette and took a drag before saying, “Since high school.” Seeing Spencer’s concern, you said, “Relax, I haven’t for a while. It’s only when I get really stressed.”

“You know, each cigarette takes about seven minutes off your life.”

“If it’s seven minutes I don’t have to spend with Timothy Miller or anyone else from this damn town, then I don’t care.”

“What did he do to you?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, (Y/N), it’s me. Talk to me. Please?”

You looked at your best friend’s pleading eyes and sighed. You put out your cigarette and said, “You know I didn’t have a good high school experience. After my mom died, my dad moved us to his childhood home. I moved schools halfway through the first semester. I was the weird new kid who wore all black with braces and clunky glasses and was way too into Stephen King books. I was an easy target.” You cleared your throat. “Julia and Tim were my biggest tormentors. When they dated, it was worse.”

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked.

You chewed your lip. “Tim asked me to the prom when he and Julie were on an off period of their relationship. I got so excited, like an idiot. I mean, I knew he didn’t like me in that way. After all, why would he?” You laughed, but there was no joy behind it. Spencer felt his heart clench at how you saw yourself. He thought you were the most beautiful, amazing woman to ever exist.

“But I thought at least I’d have a friend, you know? I rented a dress and did my hair, all that stuff. Tim said he was going to pick me up. He never came.” Your eyes burned with tears at the memory. “The worst part was, my dad didn’t know there was anything going on. After-after my mom died, he gave up. When he wasn’t working, he was drinking and smoking.” You shook your head. “Tim just brought all those feelings back.”

Spencer reached out and wiped the tears off your cheek. “You didn’t deserve any of that. No one deserves that.”

“Carrie was my favorite book in high school. I wonder what that says about me.”

“Why don’t we head back to the hotel?” Spencer offered, holding his hand out to you. “Rest might help us with the case.”

The next morning, the team discovered there was another murder. Misty Lincoln had been killed in the same way as the other two victims. Spencer was graphing the geographical profile while you sat at the table, staring at the crime scene photos.

“You see something?” Hotch asked you.

“I’m not sure. Uh, could I- could I take like two hours? I think there might be something that’ll help us in my dad’s old things.”

“Sure. But you’re not going alone. Take Reid with you.”

You knew better than to argue with your boss. “Yes, sir.”

When you and Spencer got into the SUV, your fingers started tapping the steering wheel as you drove, letting muscle memory guide you. You pulled into the parking lot of a storage facility. Spencer followed behind you as you passed row after row of storage units. When you finally stopped, you flipped through your keychain until you found one you were looking for. You hadn’t spoken to Spencer since getting in the car back at the station, and he was starting to worry.

After you opened the door to the unit, you looked at Spencer. “After my dad died, I moved all his stuff here. I got rid of some stuff, of course. What would I ever do with an old couch that had more cigarette burns than upholstery?” You ran your hand over a white garment bag. The golden lettering was faded, but Spencer could still make out the word bridal, and what he could infer was the word boutique from the few remaining letters. “Some things I just couldn’t get rid of.”

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Spencer asked you, picking up a picture at the top of an open box. You were between who he could only assume were your parents, and you all looked happy. You looked just like your mother. The small you, who couldn’t be much older than 8, clung to the woman’s side. Your father had his arm around your mother’s waist. It all looked very domestic.

“Sure,” you said, digging through a box at the back of the unit.

“Why have you been acting so different since we got here? I mean, you’ve been acting so meek and timid, which isn’t you. I once heard you threaten a cop that you would, and I quote, ‘shove your foot so far up his ass that he would taste the mud on your shoe.’ What’s going on?” He set the frame back on the top of the box.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess… I spent so long trying to distance myself from this place and when I came back, I was back to being a scared little 15-year-old.”

“But, you’re not, (Y/N). You’re strong and confident.” It was then Spencer heard you sniffle and noticed you were crying. “(Y/N)?”

You wiped your face. “Sorry. It’s just… I worked so hard for the image of me that you all see and-and I’m just so afraid that being here is going to erase all that. I worked so hard at the Academy to form an identity that wasn’t this and-”

“(Y/N), (Y/N), hey,” he said, taking your hands in his. “Breathe. Our image of you is not going to change just because your old tormentors are here. I- uh, we, the team, we love you. You’re our family. I think Garcia would riot if Hotch ever tried to get rid of you.” You chuckled at that and it made him smile. “Now, how about we get out of here and work more on our profile?”

When you got back to the precinct, Hotch asked you, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yeah.” You pulled an old yearbook out of your bag. “All the victims are from the same graduating class, and they were all in the same extracurriculars. Look.”

“We’re ready to give the profile,” Gideon said after flipping through the book.

Your team gathered the police department to deliver your preliminary profile.

“We’ve come to the conclusion that our unsub can only be a local,” Spencer said. “He-”

“There’s no way,” Officer Miller interrupted. “No one in this town would do that. Besides, why would I trust this walking stick insect over the people I’ve known my whole life? You’re wrong, Stick-Bug.”

“How dare you,” you said, stepping forward. The rest of your team stepped away. They knew what was coming. No one would say it, but they all knew how you and Spencer felt about each other. “How dare you talk to Spencer that way. Captain Bell invited us here to help you find out who’s murdering members of your community. You have no right to talk to my family that way.”

“Your family? These people are your family?”

“A family is anyone who makes you feel loved, and by that definition, yes. These people are my family. And if you ever talk to any of them like that again, I will bring your life crashing down around you with one simple phone call.”

“Oh, look who’s finally got a backbone,” Tim laughed. “Little (Y/N) thinks she sounds all big and threatening.”

“It’s not a threat, Timothy, it’s a promise,” you said. “And I’m sure Captain Bell would take you off this case if I told him you have a conflict of interest. I’m sure he’d love to know you’d had an affair with one of the victims. You and Julia never could stay away from each other, could you?”

Spencer fought a smile at seeing you return to yourself, as well as seeing Timothy’s face pale. He chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to think of a way to thank you.

The case was finally over. Like always, Spencer had been right. The unsub was a guy from your graduating class who felt the women from your class shunned and mistreated him. Thankfully, you were able to sympathize with him and get him to come in without any extra violence.

Hotch was giving the team the night in the hotel before heading back to Quantico in the morning. You were flipping through the channels on the hotel’s TV, already in your pajamas by 8:30. You finally settled on some old reruns of Friends when there was a knock at your door. You groaned and extracted yourself from your blanket cocoon and trudged over to the door.

“Spence? What are you doing here?” you asked after opening your door to reveal Spencer, still in his work clothes.

“Come with me, I want to show you something.”

“Spencer, I’m in my pajamas-”

“That doesn’t matter. Just, come with me. Please?”

You tugged your old sweatshirt on and followed Spencer down the hallway, to the elevator.

“Where are we going?” you asked him.

“It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?”

“You trust me, right?”

“Of course, I do, Spence. You know that.”

“Okay well,” he covered your eyes with his hands and guided you forward. He dropped his hands and said, “surprise.”

You were standing on the patio of the hotel’s restaurant, the tables had been pushed to the side and lights were strung up all around.

“Spence, what’s all this?” you asked as he gently pulled you to the center of the patio.

“A way to say thank you,” he said. When he saw the confusion on your face, he said, “For sticking up for me at the precinct. I know it must have been hard to stand up to Detective Miller. And-and I remember you telling me that you don’t have many good memories here, and then I thought about your prom story, so…” He held his hand out to you as music started playing. “May I have this dance?”

You smiled and took Spencer’s hand. He rested his free hand on your waist, and your free hand rested on his shoulder as the two of you gently swayed to the soft music coming from the patio’s speakers.

“How’d you pull this off?” you asked him.

His smile was a bit sheepish. “Morgan and Garcia helped me pull some strings.”

“Of course they did. Garcia is the all-powerful puppet master.”

Spencer laughed as the two of you continued to dance. When Spencer heard you sniffle, he stopped and pulled away.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He brushed a tear off your cheek. “Did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head and smiled at him. “No. It’s happy tears.” When you saw that Spencer still looked confused, you explained, “I never thought I’d have someone in my life who cares about me this much. I mean, look at all this. You did this just to make me happy.” You rested your forehead against Spencer’s and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with his hair. Spencer’s arms wound around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Of course I did. I love you. I-I mean, I care about you. Because you’re my best friend and-”

“Spence,” you said, stopping his rambling. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering for just a moment.

Spencer’s brain, which usually worked at three times the speed of the average person, slowed to practically a halt. You had just kissed him. The girl he’s been longing for just kissed him. She kissed him . You were about to say something to him when his brain finally caught up and he kissed you back.

When the two of you pulled apart, you said, “Well, I guess my prom was worth the wait.”

Spencer smiled at you and kissed your forehead before continuing to dance with you.

"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." -Anais Nin

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #x reader #criminal minds

199 notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 135

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,665ish

Summary: Y/N wants a small wedding. Tony and her find out the gender of their baby. Steve and Y/N go for lunch. (Read note and the end of the chapter.)

“I want our wedding to be small,” Y/N stated randomly a few days after the proposal. She was currently sitting in Tony’s new workshop, watching him set things up.

“Okay, honey,” Tony responded, not really hearing everything.

“Like, really small.”

“Whatever you want, you know that.”

“Like only me, you, and whoever’s marrying us.”

Tony looked at Y/N. “What if I already told both Rhodey and Happy they could be my best men? And invited Pepper?”

“Really, Tony? I just… I think it would be easier, for me, if it was just us.”

Tony dropped what he was doing and turned so that he was giving Y/N his full attention. “May I ask why?”

“I just… this wedding… I… it’s stupid. Never mind.”

“No, no, no, no, no.” Tony rolled his chair so that the was right in front of Y/N, and took hold o her heads. “You tell me and I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

Y/N inhaled and exhaled shakily as Tony rubbed his thumbs over her hands. “I… I have no one to walk me down the aisle.”

“Oh, honey.” He reached up with one hand and cupped her cheek. She leaned into it. “I didn’t think about that.”

“I know that Steve’s still alive, but… I’m not ready for that yet. He didn’t trust me… and he—“ Y/N’s voice broke as she got emotional, “—he hasn’t for a long time. He’s also never liked the idea of me and you. So why would Steve even be willing to walk me down the aisle? And if he won’t, who will?”

Tony pulled Y/N onto her lap with a sigh. “If it makes you feel better, none of my family would be there either.”

Y/N buried her head in her hands. “Oh my gosh, I’m being so selfish. At least I have a family member still alive.”

“You are not being selfish, you’re being realistic.” He pressed a kiss to her head before gently guiding her hands away form her face. “How about… well, you know I really don’t like your brother right now either, but why don’t you try and ask him to walk you down the aisle? I think it would be good for the two of you, healing in a way. Maybe even tell him about the baby.”

“I’m not telling anyone until the second trimester.”

“Then wait until then. Meet him somewhere for lunch—“

“If there’s still a place open.”

“—and tell him.”

“I’m just… scared.”

“I know, honey. But I’m worried this will do you and the baby more harm than good.”

“Okay… in a few weeks, I’ll reach out.”

“That’s my girl.” He kissed her softly.

“I don’t want to be fat in our wedding pictures,” Y/N blurted out, pulling away from the kiss.

Tony chuckled. “Then we’ll get married after the baby is born. We’ll wait until the baby is old enough and we can get Happy and Pepper to take care of it.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Maybe cause you’re so good to me.”

~~~

Week 10 started with the “pregnancy glow” and Tony constantly commenting on how big Y/N’s breasts were getting.

Week 11, her growing baby bump was causing aches and cramping. At one point, Tony found Y/N curled up on the floor, crying. He felt terrible that she was going through this. Tony carefully lifted her up, tucking her into bed, and spent the day cuddling her.

Week 12, the nausea was basically gone, making the couple happy.

Week 13 was full of dizziness. Y/N was struggling to stand up or stay standing by herself. This caused Tony to order her to bed rest, over-dramatically.

Week 14 came and it was the start of the second trimester. The doctor came over to check on both mother and baby, as well as reveal the gender. Y/N was hesitant to know the gender, wanting it to be a surprise. But Tony was an impatient child who was going to end up getting his way, legally or otherwise.

“Okay,” the doctor hummed, beginning the ultrasound. “We have ten toes, a strong heart beat, ten fingers.” Tony held onto Y/N’s hand tighter as he watched the screen intently. “Are you sure you’re ready to know the gender.”

“Yes!” / “No.”

“Come on, honey,” Tony begged. “I just want to know so we can start decorating and picking out names. Please?”

Unfortunately, Tony’s big brown eyes were hard to say no to. Y/N was going to be totally screwed if their child ended up with his eyes, but at least Tony would then get a taste of his own medicine.

“Fine,” she conceded.

“Yay!” Tony celebrated, giving her a kiss. “Now, doc, what is it?”

“Congratulations, it’s a girl,” the doctor told them with a smile.

“Yes!” Tony cheered. “I knew it!”

“You knew it?” Y/N questioned.

“I told you, I had a dream about it. So real. And we named her Morgan.”

“So I’m guessing any other names are off the table because you had a dream about it?”

“Like I said, it was so real.”

“I’ll have to think about it. While I do, can you go grab me a water, I’m dying of thirst.”

“Of course.” Tony kissed her templed before rushing off.

“Doc,” Y/N turned her attention to the doctor, “is it… this is so awkward but, is it okay to have sex? Even while being pregnant?”

“It’s completely safe,” the doctor chuckled slightly. “I’m guessing your sex drive as gotten a boost this week?”

“You have no idea. Literally anything Tony does makes me want horny. I was just scared—“

“Every new parent is. But you’re fine. The baby is well protected and higher up than you think.”

“So it won’t, like mess anything up?”

“Nope, you’re completely fine. I say enjoy it while it lasts, because it won’t last very long.”

“Thank you so much.”

~~~

That night, Tony was getting ready for bed while Y/N laid down, watching him.

“Tony?” She called.

“Yes, dear?” He responded, looking her way.

“The doctor said it was okay to have sex.”

Tony choked a little. “Wh-what? You asked them that?”

“Well, lately, my sex drive has started to kick up and everything you do makes me horny.”

“Everything I do, huh?” He wiggled his brows.

“So, please, help me?”

He came over and placed a seductive kiss on her lips. “I will always help you,” he whispered.

~~~

Week 15 came with extra clumsiness and a dreaded phone call. Tony was out getting groceries as Y/N at there, staring at her phone. She needed to call Steve and tell him everything. Things either needed to start getting better or they needed to fall apart once and for all. After taking a deep breath, Y/N finally pressed call and held the ringing phone to her ear. She felt like it had rung for hours before she finally heard Steve’s voice.

“Y/N?” He wondered, clearly confused. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“I’m fine, Steve. I was just calling to see if you would like to meet up for lunch soon?” Y/N said, trying to remain calm. “We need to talk.”

She heard him sigh. “Yeah, I suppose we do. I’m free tomorrow. I know a place in the city that’s open. I’ll text you the address. Say we meet up around 1?”

“That sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

“Right. Okay. See you then.”

Y/N hung up and leaned back agains the couch, closing her eyes. She could do this, she had to do this.

~~~

Steve was nervous. So nervous, that he had arrived at the restaurant about an hour and a half before he was to meet Y/N. They had always had their differences, but he knew that the past couple of years had really driven a rift between the two. With him being the main reason for that. He was stuck in his own head when Y/N finally sat across from him.

“Steve,” she greeted, not giving anything away.

“Y/N,” he responded, with a small smile. “How have you been?”

“I’ve be fine. You?”

“Same.”

Before the conversation could actually go anywhere, the server came up and they ordered. Steve was a bit surprised at how much Y/N had ordered.

“You hungry?” He tried to joke after the server left.

“Well it’s really hard not to be when you’re eating for two,” Y/N responded.

“W-wh-what? Eating for… t-two?”

“I’m pregnant, Steve.”

“Wha—how? I-I-I mean, who’s is it?”

“Really, Steve? Guess.”

“Well from what I was told you were seeing both Bucky and Stark. So I really—“

“It’s Tony’s. I… while I was dating both of them, I had rules. Like no sex.”

“And so Bucky dies and you break that rule?”

“Really, Steve? You know what?” She shook her head, pushing herself to stand up. “I don’t know why I let Tony talk me into doing this. I don’t need you there at the wedding. I can—“

“Hold up, Y/N, sit down. I’m sorry. I was just… I haven’t been good with my emotions for a very long time. Can you just sit back down, so we can talk about this?”

“Fine,” Y/N huffed.

“Before I get into anything more, I just want to make sure that I heard you correct. Did you say something about a wedding?”

“Tony and I are getting married.”

“That’s… that’s… good. You both deserve some happiness.”

“Thanks. We’re going to get married after the baby arrives.”

“Smart.”

“And I was… I was hoping that you might walk me down the aisle. And before you say anything, I realize that you, and Tony and I don’t have the best relationship, but I have no family. Only you.”

“I… I’d be honored too. But are you sure Tony wants me there? That you want me there?”

“You’re my twin and my only living relative, of course I want you there. But only if you want to be there. And, Tony just wants me to be happy. That’s all he’s ever wanted.”

“I’d love to walk you down the aisle. On one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You tell me the baby’s gender.”

“It’s a girl.” Y/N smiled, rubbing her belly. “Her name is Morgan.”

“Morgan. I like it. Are you planning to give her a middle name?”

“Currently that’s up for debate. I like Sarah or Maria, but Tony’s insisting on Howard.”

“Howard?”

“Yeah, I know. He’ll probably end up getting his way. Just can’t let him know that yet.”

Y/N and Steve sat at the table, talking and laughing, for a few hours. It was nice, good, different. Especially after all that had happened. Steve walked Y/N to her car.

“Can we do this more often?” Steve asked, a little nervous. “I’ve missed this, missed us.”

“I’d like that,” Y/N responded. She hugged Steve. “I love you, Steve.”

“Love you too.”

~~~

“Hey,” Tony greeted as Y/N entered his workshop. “How was lunch?”

“It was good,” she responded, leaning in for a kiss. “Of course, not everything is fixed and we still have a long way to go before we ever get back to where we once were.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony smirked, giving her another kiss. “Do you want to see what I’ve done for Morgan’s room today?”

“I think you’re nesting more than I am.”

“Probably right. I just want everything to be perfect and ready for our little girl.”

“And, knowing you, nothing with be. There’s always going to be something that needs fixing or updating.”

“How lucky am I to have a woman that knows me so well?”

“Extremely.”

~~~

Week 16, Y/N began experiencing her skin darkening around her nipples, inner thigh, armpits, and navel. She grew concerned but luckily Tony had already read all about it and told her that there was nothing to worry about. This week she also began to wedding plan. Nothing big, just looking at dresses and flowers and cakes. Steve and her had also began texting back and forth, as had her and Nat.

Week 17 was full of backaches and pregnancy brain. Tony couldn’t help but laugh at the pregnancy brain, though was immediately there to help soothe the backaches.

It was now the beginning was week 18, and Y/N felt like her boobs were huge. Tony enjoyed it, which led to them having sex a few times. They had just finished showering. Tony was getting dressed after helping Y/N do so, as Y/N laid in bed. Her hand was on her stomach when she suddenly she felt this uncomfortable pressure. She groaned.

“You okay, honey?” Tony asked, slightly concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N responded. “I’m sure it’s—ugh.”

Tony was quickly by her side. “What is it?”

“There’s these pressure.” She rubbed her stomach. “It’s coming and going and—ah!”

“Maybe I should call the doctor.”

“No, no, I think I’ll—ah!”

“Yep, calling the doctor. Unless…”

“Unless what, Tony?”

“Hang on.”

Tony pushed Y/N’s shirt up, revealing her growing bump, and rested his hands on it. The pressure happened again. Y/N winced.

“There is it again,” she said through clenched teeth. Tony couldn’t help but break out into giddy laughter. “What are you laughing at?”

“She’s kicking,” Tony responded with a large grin. “Morgan’s kicking.”

“What?” There is was again.

“Hey there, Morguna, I can feel you,” Tony leaned in and spoke to the baby. “Be kinder on your momma, will ya?”

“She’s kicking,” Y/N repeated softly. “She’s kicking.”

“Yeah she is. And I can already tell she’s a fighter, just like her parents.”

~~~

Week 19 was full of heartburn and constipation. Steve and Y/N also met up for lunch, slowly making amends.

Week 20, Morgan was restless. Kicking up a storm. Y/N was getting little sleep. It wasn’t helping that she also had leg cramps and swelling int he hands and feet. The only time Morgan would calm down was when Tony was talking to her. But Y/N couldn’t wake Tony all the time, that just wasn’t fair. So Tony, ever the clever Tony, recorded himself telling stories and singing songs to play so that they could get sleep. Still wasn’t helping Y/N all that much, but it was at least calming Morgan down.

Week 21 was almost just as restless as the previous and added shortness of breath. Tony was extremely worried about that. Luckily the doctor was already planning on coming by. The doctor said that it was normal and that Y/N just needed to take it real easy. The doctor also told them that Morgan was looking very healthy, which put the parents at ease.

“She’s going to look just like you,” Y/N told Tony one night as he was rubbing her belly and talking to Morgan. “I know it.”

“You don’t want her looking like me,” Tony chuckled with a shake of his head. “Besides, she’s going to be beautiful, just like her mother.” Tony got quiet and solemn looking. “Do you think I’ll be like my father?”

Y/N knew this question was going to come up eventually. She was just hoping it would be later. “I knew knew Howard as a father. I just knew him as a good man. And I’ve always felt bad about how he treated you, that you didn’t know the man I did. But, Tony,” she cupped his face and made eye contact with him, “you are not your father. And you have learned from him. You will be the greatest father for our child.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I would have never let this continue on if I didn’t.”

“I’m so lucky to have you by my side.”

“I know."

next chapter >

I leave for Disney World in a week. It is the last big family vacation that I will be on for a while.Because of that, I will not be on tumblr March 19th through March 24th. I will actually be deleting the app so that it’s not a distraction.

Most likely, nothing will be posted during that time. If something is, it will have been queued up. Things that are posted while I’m out of town will not have tag lists attached. I will put this note in all the fic posts until then.

So do not come at me for spending time with my family instead of including the tag list. (I say that knowing that people won’t care and still come at me.... be respectful and get over yourself.)

And in case you didn’t read the note at the end of the last chapter, I will be doing two endings (Tony’s Ending and Bucky’s Ending).

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#tony stark #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #iron man fanfiction #Iron Man #tony stark x rogers!reader #the avengers x rogers!reader #avengers x rogers!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x sister!reader

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polaroid15 · 3 years

Text

Guy in the Chair

Summary: Having a superhero for a best friend isn’t easy. But with the help of Mr. Stark, Ned things he might just be able to swing it.

Or, 5 times Ned was there for Peter and 1 time they were there for each other.

Read on Ao3 here.

-----

Ned hates funerals.

But mostly he hates seeing Peter in so much pain.

He sits beside his friend now, silent and relieved to be hearing him breathe evenly. The service for Ben had ended less than an hour ago. Overwhelmed, Peter had let Ned guide him away from the grave. They’re close enough to see May kneeling beside the freshly upturned dirt, her head in her hands, but far enough away that Peter no longer hyperventilates.

The cement bench they sit on is freezing. Snow comes up to their ankles. Both are shivering but too numb to move.

“Peter?”

Nothing.

Expecting it, Ned looks to his friend. Peter is curled in on himself, eyes open with frozen tear tracks running all the way down to his chin. He doesn’t give off any external cues that he’s heard Ned’s prompt, his sight unseeing.

“Peter?” he tries again, and when it still doesn’t elicit a response, he reaches out cold fingers to rest on Peter’s arm. Lightly, carefully, like he’s touching something fragile. “Hey man. You with me?”

Eyebrows creasing, Ned watches as a glimmer of coherence returns to Peter’s eyes. And with it, pain. Sharp and raw. Peter sucks in a long breath that rattles in his chest- like it’s the first real breath he’s taken in hours. It blows out in a puff of air that obscures the grave ahead of them.

“Peter.”

With some confusion, Peter swivels his head. He reaches a trembling hand to his face and uses his fingertips to feel the ice on his skin. “N-Ned?” he stammers. “I- when did we... I don’t remember coming over here.”

“It’s okay man. We came after the service.”

“May?”

“Over there. She’s okay.”

Breathing deep again, Peter’s eyes shine with new moisture. He buries his head deep into his elbow and leaves it there, his knuckles white where they clutch at his coat. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “God, I’m going crazy.”

Ned’s stomach hollows out. “Don’t be sorry.”

“I am,” Peter sniffs. “It’s cold.”

“It’s not that cold.”

Peter lifts his head and offers Ned a weak smile, though it falls fast. He hopes it isn’t permanent. “I just- I can’t believe he’s really gone.”

Ned bites his lip. He hadn’t known Peter when his parents had died, but he knows well enough from their sleepovers that he wakes up in cold sweats. He also knows that Peter has a tendency to blame himself for things that aren’t his fault, that he walks as if the world is on his shoulders.

And Peter had been there. In the alley. He had tried to keep Ben alive as he bled out.

And it didn't work. God, why couldn’t it have worked?

“Me either.”

Peter chokes on his next breath. Holds it. “What- what are we going to do without him?”

“Peter-”

“May can’t…I can’t-” Peter breaks off, gasping. “He can’t be gone.”

Words are impossible. Ned reaches deep within himself and whispers, “I’m sorry Peter. I’m so sorry.”

Peter’s lip wobbles. His eyes fill until there’s nowhere for the tears to go but out. At the same time they reach for each other, and Ned holds onto Peter as if it’s his sole purpose in this life. “It’s my fault Ned,” Peter sobs into his shoulder. “I couldn’t save him. It was me. He’s d-dead because of me.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“We had a fight,” Peter continues, delirious in his grief. “We had a fight and he died and I should’ve been able to save him.”

“It’s not your fault, man. What happened to Ben was terrible, but it wasn’t your fault, okay? He wouldn’t have wanted you to blame yourself. You know that.”

Peter tries to speak but is crying too hard for Ned to make out the words. So instead he pats Peter’s back and hugs him as hard as he can. He holds on. He whispers ‘he loved you’ and ‘it’s not your fault’ in between Peter’s sobs. He’s not sure how long it goes on for. He feels like a skipping record, his condolences an endless loop.

Eventually, Peter’s head lolls against Ned’s cheek. He stops crying. Stops everything. “I’m sorry,” he says. Then, more sure, “you’re a good friend, Ned. Thanks- thanks for being here with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Always,” Ned says. It’s a promise, a vow. “No matter what.”

And with every nerve in his body, he means it.

------

Peter is Spider-Man.

In a way, Ned still feels the aftershocks of the surprise. It hits him over and over again whenever he sees Peter with a limp or a bruise, or a cut that he can tell from it’s scar Peter had stitched himself.

But it’s nothing in comparison to Homecoming.

What’s supposed to be a fun night turns into a full out adrenaline high with life or death stakes. Instead of dancing, he fires Peter’s web shooters and works tirelessly in the computer lab. Being the guy in the chair.

And then there’s silence. An awful, consuming silence.

Ned expects Peter to come back to the party, and when he doesn’t, he tries calling. All thirteen calls go straight to voicemail.

He tries again now.

“Hey, it’s Peter. I promise I’m not ignoring you. Uh, leave a message. Thanks.”

Failing to ignore his worry, Ned drags his aching feet home. His mom is working a late shift at the hospital so he unlocks the door to his apartment and flicks on the lights, rubbing at his face in exhaustion.

He barely makes it two steps before he hears it.

A thud, like something heavy hitting hardwood.

Ned grabs the item closest to him, an umbrella propped up in the corner by the door and walks with caution towards his bedroom where the noise came from. Not for the first time that night, his heart beats viciously in his chest. Did Liz’s dad figure out he was helping Peter? Did the guy from the bus lot follow him home?

“Hello?” he calls, wincing when his voice shakes. He holds the umbrella a little tighter, the thin metal sticks digging into his palm. “Who- who’s there?”

When there’s no answer he pauses outside his door and cranes for clues. Hearing nothing, he braces himself before kicking open the door. The first thing he sees is his open window, and then-

“Oh my God! Peter!”

His friend is slumped under the glass, pale and covered in sweat and blood. Though his eyes are half lidded, he smiles at Ned when he sees him. “Why’re you holding an umbrella?” he slurs.

Ned dips his head to look at the makeshift weapon before tossing it to the side. His hands are shaking horribly. “I thought- I thought someone broke in!”

“Well technically,” Peter coughs, wincing, “I did break in.”

“It’s different,” Ned says, his legs like jelly as he stumbles forward. He kneels beside Peter and holds his hands out gingerly, sure whatever part of Peter he touches will shatter. “What the hell happened to you?”

Peter frowns. There’s too much blood. “I crashed Mr. Stark’s plane,” he says.

“What?”

“Liz’s dad was trying to steal it. I stopped him though.”

“You’re hurt.”

“I get hurt all the time.”

“Not like this,” Ned argues, and Peter’s eyes darken.

“I’m okay,” he whispers.

Grinding his nails into his knees, Ned shakes his head. Peter hasn’t moved since he found him, his arms curled tightly around his chest. “Why’d you come here?”

Gaping, Peter pales further. “Oh. I didn’t... I’m sorry-”

“No,” Ned says quickly. “Not like that. I mean, isn’t Mr. Stark supposed to help you with stuff like this?”

Peter closes his eyes, his face shadowed. “Mr. Stark doesn’t want to see me anymore. He ended things, remember?”

“But if he knew you were hurt-”

“Ned.”

“You’re bleeding really bad. I don’t know how to help you.”

Peter smiles again, but it’s sad. Broken, like the day of Ben’s funeral. It makes Ned feel sick. “Can I use your shower?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Definitely. I’m covered in sand and ash and concrete-” Peter shudders, eyes becoming distant for a moment. “Please?”

“Right. Of course, man. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks.”

Peter tries to stand but needs Ned’s help in the end. They limp to the bathroom together and Ned helps Peter pull the top half of his suit off because Peter can’t lift his arms above his head. Peter is quiet during the process, but Ned doesn’t miss the way he sways and bites his lip.

When the suit is finally stripped away, Ned is sure he’ll have nightmares of for the rest of his life. Impossibly dark bruising covers nearly every inch of his friend’s skin, puncture marks still leaking blood and surrounded by countless smaller cuts and scrapes. He notices that Peter doesn’t look in the mirror. He doesn’t even look down, his hands shaking as he stares in determination at the opposite wall.

It’s only now that Ned truly understands the weight of what Peter is taking on. That having superpowers comes with a cost.

I just wanted to be like you, Peter had told Mr. Stark.

And I want you to be safe, thinks Ned, aching.

“Peter,” he whispers. He feels strangely detached from his body, as if he’s viewing the massacre through someone else’s eyes. “This- this is really bad. Like, hospital bad.”

Peter doesn’t argue, which Ned knows is a bad sign. Instead, his eyes glisten as if he’s about to cry. “I heal fast.”

“But-”

“I’m going to shower now.”

“Peter.”

“Ned please. I know you mean well, but- but I can’t think about it right now, okay? I just need to shower and then I’ll be okay.”

Ned stills. Swallows. Then, with great reluctance, he nods. “Okay.”

Looking weak with relief, Peter gives him a watery smile. When he speaks, his voice cracks. “Thanks man. I- I really owe you one.”

“It’s nothing. Guy in the chair, remember?”

“Thanks Ned.”

After their handshake, Ned leaves. It takes a minute of standing by the bathroom door and breathing intently through his nose to get his heart to calm. When it does, his pocket vibrates. He pulls out his phone, expecting it to be his mom.

Instead, it’s an unknown number.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Ned answers, making sure to move away from the bathroom. “Hello?”

There’s staticy silence. Then, heavy breathing. “Is this Peter’s friend?”

“Who’s this?”

“I’ll take that as a yes. This is Happy Hogan. You called me earlier.”

An unexpected surge of anger makes his ears hot. Hand tightening around the phone, Ned doesn’t try to keep the annoyance from his voice. “What do you want?”

Happy sighs. “Peter. Have you seen him?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Now. He’s at my apartment.”

More silence. Ned paces.

“How is he?” Happy asks finally.

“Why do you care?” Ned snaps. His heart is beating fast again. He can hear it in the base of his eardrums. “I tried to warn you earlier and you hung up on me.”

“Kid, listen-”

“He’s not okay,” Ned interrupts. “He’s hurt really bad. And he wouldn’t be if you had just listened.”

Ned expects deflection, but Happy’s words surprise him with their concern. “Wait. Peter’s hurt?”

It leaches his anger. “Yeah.”

“Can I talk to him?”

Ned opens his mouth to respond but pauses at the sound of a muffled conversation on the other end of the line. There’s a short struggle and then a new voice fills his ears. One that he’s more than familiar with.

“Ted, right?” Tony Stark asks. “Put Peter on the phone. Pronto. ASAP.”

“I- I-”

“He’s with you, isn’t he?” the man urges.

“I- yes.”

“Well then?”

Ned, despite how freaking cool it is to be talking to Iron Man, can’t help but feel a streak of protectiveness for his friend. “He didn’t call you for a reason.”

Tony is quiet, which Ned doesn’t expect. He plows on. “He thinks you don’t care. And maybe you don’t. But you can’t just choose when you want to help him. He’s here and he’s hurt, and I’m just about the least qualified person to be helping him. There’s blood on my floor and my mom is going to freak out-”

“Take a breath kid,” Tony interjects, his voice pinched. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Just let me talk to him.”

“He’s in the shower.”

“We’ll come pick him up, then. What’s your address?”

Ned closes his eyes, feeling two seconds away from a breakdown. He should be excited, but instead he just feels hollow. How did this become my life?

He rattles off his address and hangs up before Tony can respond. Then he sits on his floor beside Peter’s blood and cries silently into his hands.

-------

Ned tries to talk to Peter about Homecoming, but his friend just defects. Ned tries not to let it bother him.

But it does.

Physically, Peter recovers quickly. The ugly cuts and bruises disappear after the weekend, but the weariness that accompanies them never really leaves. The dark circles under Peter’s eyes get worse everyday and it’s harder to get a genuine smile out of his friend.

It all comes to a head on Wednesday.

They’re in the hall grabbing textbooks from their lockers between classes. Peter has been especially quiet today and Ned has done his best not to say anything about it. He’s reaching for his physics binder when it happens.

A loud crash, the sound of metal hitting the floor. Heart jumping, Ned spins to see a table flipped on its side beside a group of snickering kids. He exhales, shaking his head. “Man, that scared me.” He turns to Peter to laugh it off and freezes, insides turning to ice.

“Peter?”

His friend has lost all the color in his face, his eyes wide, unblinking, and staring out at nothing. When he doesn’t respond Ned takes a step forward to nudge his arm and Peter flinches back as if burned, hitting one of their classmates who scowls and pushes him off.

Peter barely manages to catch himself, his chest heaving like he’s just finished running a marathon. More careful this time, Ned grabs Peter’s elbow and steers him away from the hall and towards the bathroom. When they get there Peter detaches himself from Ned’s grip and stumbles until he hits the wall, sliding down to curl into a ball on the dirty tile. Now that it’s quieter, Ned can hear just how strained his breathing is.

“Peter?” he asks softly, squatting down to his level. “You’re scaring me man. What’s going on?”

Peter looks up at him helplessly, clutching at his chest as he pales further. “S-sorry. Just- ah. Gimme a minute.”

Ned opens his mouth to argue but closes it decidedly. The door to the bathroom swings open behind them and Ned shoos the freshman who appears away with his hands.

Peter’s upbeat ringtone cuts through the tension. Obviously not coordinated enough to answer, Ned helps Peter pull it out of his pocket and stills at the contact.

“It’s Mr. Stark,” Ned says in awe. “What- what do I do?”

“Don’ answer it-”

But his thumb is already on the green. He gives Peter a panicked look of apology before yanking the device up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Ted? Why do you have Peter’s phone?”

“It’s Ned. And he- he can’t really talk right now.”

Tony curses. “Is he with you? His watch sent me a spike in his vitals. Don’t tell me he’s actively bleeding out.”

Peter must hear what he’s saying because he groans, his breathing becoming increasingly laboured. He sticks his head between his knees and digs his knuckles into the tile until tiny cracks appear under the pressure.

“He’s not bleeding out,” Ned assures. “He’s- well, I don’t really know what’s happening. He said he can’t breathe.”

“Damn it. Damn it. Okay. He’s having a panic attack. Put me on speaker.”

“But-”

“Now, Ned!”

Gulping, Ned obliges. He holds out the phone between himself and Peter like some sort of offering and feels some distant part of him relax as Tony takes control.

“Pete?” Tony asks, his voice sharp and clear. “Focus on my voice kiddo. Alright? Imagine that I’m there with you.”

“Mr. St-Stark-’

“Shh, kiddo. It’s okay. I’m going to help you breathe. I need you to tell me five things you can see. Can you do that?”

Eyes gaining some clarity, Ned watches them wander. “Uh, Ned. The phone. The- the sinks. A mirror. And- and, uh. Paper towel.”

“Bathroom. Classy. Alright, now four things you can touch.”

“Ground. Wall. C-clothes. Backpack.”

“Good, kiddo. You’re doing so well. Keep breathing. Three things you can hear?”

“You. Ned. Kids outside.”

With every answer, the tension in Tony’s own voice seems to ease. For some reason, it softens some of the resentment Ned’s been holding against the man ever since the ferry incident. He continues with urgency. “Two things you can smell?”

“Soap. Sweat.”

“Good. And one thing you can taste?”

Peter exhales, long and slow. He closes his eyes. “Spearmint.”

“That’s great,” Tony encourages. “Feeling any better?”

At this, Peter’s face scrunches up as if he’s about to start crying. Instead, he relaxes more fully against the wall and reaches up to wipe his eyes. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. That’s better. I’m really sorry-”

“Nope,” Tony interrupts. “Gonna stop you right there kid. We’ll talk in person. I can be there in twenty.”

“What?” Peter stalls, eyebrows drawing together. “I have class.”

“Not anymore. See you soon. Ned, can I talk to you real quick?”

Another shot of adrenaline spiking through him, Ned fumbles with the phone until it’s off speaker and pushes it up against his face, though he knows full well Peter will still be able to hear. “Yeah Mr. Stark?”

A short pause. “Has this happened before?”

“Not at school.”

“And not at school?”

Peter looks down at his shoes. Ned frowns. “I don’t know.”

Tony sighs. “Thanks for watching out for him. Do you know what triggered it?”

“Um. A table got flipped over. It was really loud.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it. Damn it. Can you stay with him until I get there? Give him water and make sure he doesn’t fall asleep. You got that?”

“Yeah. Yes. Of course.”

He doesn’t get a response, the line going dead. He pulls it away in disbelief and sets it on the floor. Peter smirks weakly at him from where he’s slumped against the wall. “It’s okay,” he mumbles. “He hangs up on everyone.”

------

For a while, it gets better.

“Ned! Oh my God- MJ said yes! I’m freaking out man!”

Stomach dropping with excitement, Ned spins a full 360 in his room, hands reaching up to his hair. “No freaking way! I told you!”

Peter’s excited rambling continues through his phone. It makes Ned’s heart soar. “What do I do? Where do I take her? The movies? The park?”

“Swinging through New York,” Ned offers with a smile, and Peter laughs.

“No, seriously. It needs to be perfect.”

“Laser tag?”

“Don’t forget that I’m broke, man.”

“How about the Pride Parade? That’s happening this weekend. Seems like her kind of thing.”

Peter pauses, warmth filling the other end of the line. “That’s perfect! God, you’re a genius. Thanks man!”

“You owe me,” he teases.

“I so do. We still on for the death star 2.0 tonight?”

“Wise is Yoda the most?”

Peter laughs again. It’s nice. “Right. See you soon.”

“See you.”

When Ned hangs up, tears bite at his eyes.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s heard Peter so happy.

--------

Of course, it doesn’t last long.

Ned gets the text during band practice.

It’s from Peter and the empty seat next to him feels more pronounced. He almost ignores it, feeling, despite reason, a deep bitterness for his loneliness. But the message is short.

Help.

Ned nearly tilts out of his chair, his mouth adopting a strange metallic quality and his stomach dropping down to his toes. Before he can even get his shaking hands to cooperate another message lights his screen.

Bleachers.

Ned stands before he can process how strange it must look. His teacher, Miss Gregerson, raises her pencil thin eyebrows. “Ned? What is it?”

“Bathroom,” he blurts, and parts the music stands blocking his exit before she can say another word. He hears laughter follow him but can’t find it within himself to care, his heart beating loud in his ears as he jogs through the empty hallways. Peter needs you. Something is wrong.

He had thought having a best friend for a superhero would be cool. But the longer the time stretches, the more Ned realizes how much sleep he’s been losing over his friend’s safety.

Please don’t be dying.

Ned bursts through the back doors and trips his way down the hill to the track. The yard is empty, filtered with pink and orange light from the sinking sun. It’s warm and the air is still, but the deep sense of foreboding doesn’t leave him.

“Peter?” he calls, even though the bleachers are distant and his throat is closing with fear. He walks faster and it’s only when his feet hit the red dirt of the track that he sees Peter’s hunched form. He’s sitting on the lowest step of the bleacher, his face pinched and the edges of his suit showing from his open backpack. He’s pale and covered in sweat, and when he sees Ned, he sags, his eyes fluttering with what can only be a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

“Peter,” Ned repeats, skidding to his friend’s side. His hands hover, unsure again what to do or how to help. Assess the problem, his mind supplies. Find out what’s hurt.

It doesn’t take long. He follows Peter’s tense posture to his hand, which is clamped down hard over his side. His skin is painted red underneath, the material of his dark shirt shining in the fading light. There’s a cut on his temple that bleeds too, and Ned notices how hard Peter is trying to concentrate on his form, his eyes seeming incapable of adjusting.

“Hey man,” he croaks.

“Oh my God,” Ned breathes. His whole body is shaking now. Weak. Because he’s not equipped for this. “What happened?”

Peter struggles to process his question, blinking heavy and biting hard on his bottom lip. Then he swallows, sways, and musters a weak smile. “Stabbed. Long knife.”

When Peter falls to the side, Ned has to lunge to catch him, supporting his entire weight against his body. The new position allows him to see the blood that’s been pooling on the metal where Peter’s been sitting. A distant part of his brain wonders if the stain it’ll leave will be permanent.

“You need to go to a hospital,” Ned says. Peter’s head is pressed hard into his rib cage. They’re both shaking, their breaths uneven and loud.

“No,” Peter says. “You can help.”

“I can’t.”

“Please.”

It’s desperate. More desperate than Ned’s ever heard his friend. Even after Homecoming. “Peter-” he starts, but there’s no words to convey the weight in his chest.

“We can fix this,” Peter says. “We can fix it.”

“You’re bleeding too much.”

“I just need some help.” Peter lifts himself away with Ned with trembling arms. He’s even more pale, his skin close to translucent. He struggles with the side pocket on his backpack before revealing a small sewing kit. He transfers it into Ned’s palm where it leaves a thick smudge of red. He stares at it for a long time and won’t realize until much later that he’s in shock.

“What?” he stutters, transfixed by how much blood is on the sewing kit.

“My hands... my hands are shaking too much to thread the needle.”

Ned stares. He’s numb.

“Ned?” Peter prompts. He reaches out a hand and bracelets Ned’s wrist in his blood. “Can you- can you thread the needle for me?” he pauses, and almost sheepishly, he smiles. “I need my guy in the chair.”

It’s like a damn breaking. Ned snaps back into awareness, sad, angry, and unable to fully comprehend why. Guy in the chair.

“I’ll help you,” he says, “but not in the way you want.”

Before Peter can protest, Ned pulls out his phone. He dials in the number and tries to ignore the way Peter’s chest falls, or how a tear cuts a line through the grime on his face.

“Mr. Stark?” he asks when the line connects. “I need your help.”

In the background, Ned can already hear the mechanical thrum of what can only be a suit being activated. Mr. Stark doesn’t question it. He doesn’t waste time. “I’ll be there in three minutes,” he says, and then the line disconnects.

Peter blinks slow. His lip trembles. “I wish you didn’t do that,” he says.

And then he collapses.

Ned cries out as he catches him. His shirt will be ruined. Peter’s head lolls sickeningly against his neck, his arms going limp at his sides. Acting on instinct alone, Ned reaches to put pressure over the still bleeding wound in Peter’s side. It’s warm and he gags. His eyes burn with tears.

“P-Peter?” he cries, but Peter remains still against him. He wonders if this is how Peter had felt when Ben had died, and for the first time understands the guilt Peter had pinned on himself. “Wake up, man. Mr. Stark is coming. He’s going to- he’s going to help.”

But Peter doesn’t wake up. He doesn’t even twitch until Mr. Stark hits the dirt hard beside them, his suit retracting from his face to reveal a look of complete terror. It catches Ned off guard, but not as much as the way Mr. Stark gently maneuvers Peter out of Ned’s arms and into his own lap.

“Hey Underoos,” Mr. Stark says. His voice is soft but urgent. He taps on Peter’s face and brushes back his hair. “This isn’t a good look, kiddo.”

Ned is frozen. Stuck. He feels the tacky wetness of blood on his hands and is unable to look at them.

“Pete,” Mr. Stark continues, louder this time. “Wake up. That’s an order.”

Ned holds his breath as Peter’s eyes open to slits. They’re hazy, confused, but his lips manage to quirk up into a smile that betrays the pain in his eyes. “Tony,” he whispers.

Mr. Stark sags and Ned can practically see the relief leak out of him. He plays with Peter’s hair, his free hand pressed down hard against the worst of the bleeding. “You never do things halfway, do you kid?” he asks with a smile that even Ned can tell is for Peter’s benefit alone. “If it weren’t for Ned, you’d be six feet under right about now.”

Peter’s eyes drift to find Ned. His smile widens when they connect. “He’s my guy in the chair,” he slurs.

Tony hugs Peter tighter and Ned is struck just how paternal the hero is acting. Like Peter is the most important thing in the world. A lot has changed since Homecoming, he realizes. “Let’s get you some help, buddy. You up for a flight?”

But Peter doesn’t seem to hear. His eyes are still glued to Ned. He doesn’t speak, but Ned understands anyway.

Tony stands, bringing Peter up with him, and Peter goes limp once more. Ned doesn’t miss the way Tony’s breath hitches or the urgency in his movements. He stops before he takes off, regarding Ned with a look of gratitude. “Happy is on his way to pick you up. Wait here for him, okay?”

Ned can only nod, and when they both disappear into the air, he sinks to the ground. It takes hours for the blood on his hands to wash off, and when he finally makes it to Peter’s room in medbay, he finds Tony Stark with his head pillowed on Peter’s thigh. They’re both sleeping, their arms linked.

And for the first time, it all makes sense.

------

It’s been two weeks since the blip’s reversal.

They’re back at school. Ned shuffles awkwardly at his locker, uncomfortable, like his skin is on too tight. Graduation pictures of his classmates hang on the wall.

Five years.

A deep, unrelenting sadness pulls at his heart. He should be happy to be back, but he’s not. Not really. His little sister, who what seems like yesterday was half his height, now reaches his chin. The calendar in his room is useless.

So much time.

Across the hall, he sees Peter. It calms the sharp edges of his anxiety and as if mirroring his own relief, he sees his friend’s shoulders lose their tension. Ned begins walking towards him and Peter drifts too. It’s slow, cautious, like everything will vaporize in a moment if they move too fast.

But at last, they meet. And in the middle of the hall, surrounded by faces Ned no longer recognizes, they hug. Peter’s grip is strong. Almost bruising. It reminds Ned of Ben’s funeral and the heaviness in his chest doubles.

Peter sniffs. He trembles like he’s cold.

“Are you okay?” Ned whispers in his ear.

Peter is quiet. Ned can hear his measured breathing, an exercise taught to him by Mr. Stark shortly after the incident in the school bathroom.

Mr. Stark, who had died to save them all.

“Not yet,” Peter says after some time. They still haven’t pulled apart. “I just- I really miss him, Ned.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Peter’s fingers curl into his hoodie. People are staring at them, and for the first time in his life, Ned can’t bring himself to care.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Peter says, and Ned feels his eyes sting.

Five long years.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you either.”

Finally, Peter pulls away. He wipes his sleeve across his cheekbones and takes in a rattling breath. “Wanna help me with my web shooters after school? May’s making lasagna. Pepper and Morgan are coming over, too.”

Ned smiles. Because after all the injuries he’s seen Peter sustain over the years, he’s seen them all heal too.

He’ll heal.

They both will.

“That sounds great, man.”

After a particularly sloppy handshakes, they walk to class with their shoulders bumping.

And though it may just be a trick of the light, Ned swears he sees Mr. Stark standing in the crowd of students, a wide smile on his face as he looks at them.

And just like Ben, Ned knows that Peter has Tony forever.

#spider man #peter parker #tony stark #ned leeds #irondad fic #peter & ned #hurt/comfort #hurt peter parker #peter parker whump #protective ned leeds #protective tony stark

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

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The Return

It's been 2 years since you were last in Dublin. 2 years since you up and left without warning, saying goodbye to your life there and restarting somewhere completely new. Sometimes, you have to go backwards in order to move forwards.

Requested by @noctvrnalmoth I hope you like it!

*Featuring Jim from the Delinquent Season*

Stepping off the train into the platform, you sighed. It all looked the same, and yet so different. Pulling the buggy open, you gently strapped your sleeping son in and made your way to the taxi rank, your suitcase trailing behind you. A kind lady helped you with your bags and waited with you for an available taxi.

"You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders there, are you okay?" She sat next to you on the bench as your son murmured adorably in his sleep. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry..."

"No don't be sorry.. just been a long time since I came back here is all. Few loose ends to tie up." You glanced at your son's sleepy features as his eyes started to open. Beautiful, ocean blue eyes alongside his dark hair, growing more every day... The memories of that night flooding back before you took a large gulp of water from the bottle in your bag, forcing them back down. You'd done so well... 2 years and you'd built a new life in London. New friends, amazing new job allowing you to put that degree in marketing to good use - you were finally making a complete fresh start. But the secrets you had buried deep inside kept coming to the surface the more your son grew. He deserved to know his roots, who his father was, you knew that, but you couldn't do it.

Choking a tear back, you thanked the kind lady for helping you as a taxi pulled up and she helped you to get in.

Pulling up outside your cousin Natalie's townhouse in the city centre, she was waiting for you at the gate to help with Jackson and your bags. Grinning from ear to ear she pulled you in for a huge hug once you'd got inside and settled on her couch as Jackson sat in this new lady's lap tugging at her earrings.

"I can't believe I'm only just meeting him y/n.. he's the image of you!!" She kissed his cheek, bringing him up to look at him properly for the first time not over Skype.

"I never see it, I just see.... I just see him I guess..." You mind wandered to the man you actually saw, but you didn't let it slip.

"Those EYES!!! So blue and vibrant, just beautiful!" Natalie was swooning now, she'd never seen eyes that blue on a baby. Your eyes were brown, so he clearly inherited them from his father, although you had never revealed his identity - just a drunken one night stand and he wasn't involved. You weren't lying, technically...

After catching up properly, Natalie told you she'd planned a few people coming over to welcome you back that evening - nothing major, just a few friends from years ago that were keen to see you after so long away.

"Oh.. yes, that would be nice... Um, who's coming?"

"Well I think David and Amanda, possibly Caroline.. I think Liam is asking Jim too but I'm not sure if he's up for it - he's been through a tough time lately.." you caught a gasp in your throat at the sound of his name. Last you heard, through Natalie, he and Danielle were going through a rough patch. Cheating accusations on both sides, they'd agreed to a trial separation. "Apparently she isn't as broken hearted as once thought - already shacked up with someone new, fancy house on the coast, new Jag on the driveway, she's doing quite well for herself!" Your chin began to wobble, not unnoticed by Natalie, who placed Jackson in his bouncer on the floor and moved to place a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm fine Nat, honestly I'm good. It was a long time ago, things have changed. I'm not that silly little girl with a crush anymore..." Natalie looked into your eyes. Nothing ever got past her.

"Y/n.. when I said I'd never seen eyes that blue, I meant on a baby. Only one person I know has eyes like that, and I think you know too. Tell me the truth, please?" You were frozen, until tears escaped and you couldn't stop them. Jackson looked to see his mum crying and began crying too. Scooping him up, you held him close.

"It happened once... Just once Nat... And he doesn't know and he doesn't need to know, let's just leave it there, yeah?"

"What?? This is Jim's son? I was almost kidding y/n... How could you keep this from him for 2 years??" She was stood up now in complete shock. Jim wasn't just her friend, he was her husband's brother - this made things even more intense. The atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

"Please Nat... This wasn't easy okay? I was 21, I slept with a married man, and I got pregnant... Then mum died.. I had to go back to London to sort out the funeral and the will... I didn't want to be seen as the homewrecker that got herself knocked up..."

"And what about Jackson? Doesn't he deserve to know his father?"

"Of course... And he would.. when I was ready Nat. And I'm not ready..."

"Not ready for what?" Liam, Natalie's husband was stood in the doorway, as you heard the front door close. Now standing next to him was the man you were desperately trying to avoid... Jim stood behind him, eyes wide at the sight of you with a baby in your arms.

"Baby, we need to go pick up that delivery from the post office, remember the one we missed last week?" Natalie pulled a confused Liam out of the room, leaving his brother and you alone.

"Y/n... Hey.. um.. how are you?" You tried to smile in response but your heart was pounding in your chest, you could barely breathe.

"I.. yeah.. um, yeah I'm okay.." you glanced down at his hand.. the wedding ring was gone. "I'm sorry to hear about you and Olivia..."

"Probably for the best eh... We weren't exactly getting along, just stayed together for the kids I think. They're older now though, they're fine. Y/n.. where did you go? Why did you go?"

"My mum was ill... She'd had a stroke and they couldn't save her, I had to go... I just stayed.. and things happened.."

"You had a baby..." He looked at the little boy in your arms, feeling extremely nervous now. "He must be just over a year old, right?" You nodded.

"13 months.."

"And we... We had sex y/n.. the day before you left..." His own breath was faltering now as the dates in his mind started to catch up. Again, you nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. The realisation of what was happening dawned on Jim. He started to back away, before shaking his head and storming out of the house, the door slamming behind him making you and your son jump.

Your sobs came out in full force now, Liam and Natalie coming back into the room. Liam took Jackson into the kitchen to find him something to eat as Natalie held you.

"It's okay y/n... Give him time yeah? Poor guys just had the shock of his life, he'll come round." Your heart was sinking.. you hadn't meant for any of this to happen, but here it was. The memory of that afternoon had never left you, you hadn't even been able to move on - your son, for starters, looked just like him, how could you find love with anyone with the constant reminder of the man you'd never have around you 24/7.

Flashback

"I'm so sorry Jim, I didn't know who else to call..." You climbed into his car, cheeks burning as he picked you up from outside the pharmacy. You'd been walking along the road when a pothole in the pavement took you by surprise and you'd tripped, your ankle turning funny - the pain was horrific, but no one seemed to be answering your phone calls when you rang around for someone to come pick you up. Reluctantly, you'd dialled Jim's number, your cousin's brother in law. He'd given you his number the previous week, after offering to help you move into your new apartment later that month.

"No problem, I was just dropping the kids at school so I was only round the corner." He helped you into the car and drove you back to his house. "I figured your place is in boxes, no chance of a first aid kit either, I'm guessing?"

"No," You laughed. "Thank you so much.." you grimaced as you turned your foot round, trying to ease the pain.

"Definitely not broken, just need to rest it. I'll put the kettle on." Jim led you into the kitchen and sat you down at the kitchen table, and grabbed an ice pack from the fridge. Lifting your leg onto the chair opposite, he placed the ice pack onto your ankle. "Feeling okay?" He asked, flicking the kettle on and preparing two mugs of coffee.

"Much better.. thank you." Definitely better.. the physical contact from him was driving you insane, you had to swallow the blushes in your cheeks, praying he hadn't noticed.

"I've only got instant coffee... Hope that's okay - Danielle won't let me buy a coffee machine." He rolled his eyes. His wife was one of the tightest women he'd ever met.

"It's fine, thank you.. and I honestly can't thank you enough for coming to get me.. I can't believe how clumsy I am!"

"Hey those pavements are a nightmare - I'm surprised no one's broken a leg yet! Don't you be moving now, I'll take you back home once that swelling has gone down."

"How did you know how to fix it all?"

"I have a son, y/n, who at one stage a few years ago thought he was an actual superhero and would fling himself off anything to check if he could fly.. you learn the difference between a broken ankle and a twisted one pretty quick!" He laughed, remembering the time his son climbed the tallest tree in the park, giving him a heart attack before throwing himself from the top - luckily Jim caught him before he hit the floor.

"I think it's better now, Jim, I can try and walk." You said, after chatting for a while in the large kitchen.

"Let me help you.." he held your hands and guided you upright, your chests now pressed together as you placed your foot gingerly on the floor, testing it's strength. Stumbling slightly, Jim caught you, your bodies now even closer together. You could feel his heart racing, could he feel yours? His hands wrapping around yours, holding you up, an arm snaking round your waist. You looked up and found him looking right back at you, your face inches from his. Before you had time to think, you kissed him, before quickly pulling back.

"Shit I'm sorry... Oh god.. no... I'm sorry..." He took your hand in his and pulled you back to him, pressing his lips back to yours. This time you didn't pull back, your mouth opening allowing his tongue to dance against yours. Lifting you up, he sat you on top of the counter, his hands roaming your body hungrily.

"I can't... I shouldn't..." He murmured against your neck, the vibrations driving you wild with need. "You're so fucking beautiful y/n..." He ground your hips against yours, you could feel his erection through his jeans as you reached down to cup it through them, kneading it slightly. He growled, pulling your hand up to his chest, his heart hammering underneath his shirt. "You feel that? Feel how fast that's going?" Silently you took his hand and placed against your chest.

"Feel mine...." You pushed his hand down lower.. over your breast... Down your stomach and under the waistband of your skirt. His fingers found your folds, and he gasped your name. "I'm wet... I'm so fucking wet..." Lifting your skirt up, he pulled your underwear down. You relieved him of his jeans and they fell to the floor, revealing no underwear, just his huge, hard cock already leaking.

"I see you are too..." You ran a finger along the slit, taking some of the precum and lifting it to your mouth. "You taste good..."

"You want this...?" He asked, lining himself up against you. You nodded, and he pushed in easily, you gasped his name and threw your head back as he filled you completely. Pulling on your hips, he rocked you against him as he moved his own hips back and forth, fucking you against the countertop. You legs wrapped round his waist as his thrusts came harder, deeper, faster.

"Fuck... Right there... Jim... Oh god...." He bit down on your exposed neck, hands pushing against your still covered breasts, he moaned.

"Feels so good y/n... You feel so good... That's it baby, I need to feel you... Cum for me..." You leaned back, and eyes locked with his you drew a hand down to circle your clit as he moved inside you.

"Gonna make myself cum on you... Gonna cum hard for you... Faster Jim..." He pounded into you now, your moans echoing through the kitchen as you came over him, his release following seconds later. Both of you leaned your heads together as your worlds came back into focus.

Present Day

"Hey."

"Hey.." you'd agreed to meet Jim for a coffee a few days later. He'd called you the evening before, slightly tipsy which made you chuckle. Liam and Natalie were watching Jackson while the two of you caught up.

"How's the hangover?" You smiled, he grimaced.

"Well I've definitely felt fresher.. it was a bit of a shock y/n..."

"Listen.. for what it's worth.. I'm sorry. I didn't know I was pregnant until I was nearly 20weeks. With the stress of losing mum and the funeral, I hadn't had a period for a while but I thought it was just the stress.. then my friend convinced me to take a test and the doctors confirming it.. it was too late to do anything about it.. then I heard you and Danielle were trying for another baby and I just couldn't do it Jim.. I couldn't destroy your life like that.." your hands were shaking. He leaned over and took your hands in his.

"I understand y/n.. I do. I spent most of this week thinking about it. I don't blame you for what you did.. but I do wish you'd told me."

"I'd done enough damage Jim, sleeping with a married man? On his kitchen counter where he makes his kids breakfast? Where his wife makes her coffee in the morning? I couldn't face you.. I couldn't face what I'd done.."

"You know where my wife was, that morning?" He leaned back, smiling a little. "At her office, bent over the desk while her boss fucked her from behind. She called my number by accident while it happened. I didn't answer, obviously, I was busy.. but my voicemail picked up the whole thing. I'd had my suspicions for a long time, but that confirmed it. We were never trying for another baby - that's just what she told people to distract them from the fact we were clearly falling apart at the seams. Couldn't exactly be mad at her after what I'd done with you though."

"Did you tell her?"

"Yes, but she didn't know it was you. Then you up and left.. I thought there was no need to tell her who it was. I guess now we kinda have to, right?"

"Jim, I don't expect anything from you, okay? I have an inheritance from my mum, I'm fine for money, there's no need to be involved if it'll cause you problems.."

"No. You've kept him from me for nearly 2 years y/n, don't do this again, please? I'm not asking you to move in, I'm not asking for a relationship, I just want to get to know our boy.. that's all.. please?" You saw it in his eyes. It was there, for all to see. Was it love?

"I'll call Nat.. ask her to bring him over, maybe we could go for a walk?" Jim smiled, nodding. You made the call, and an hour later you were walking to the local park, Jim pushing the stroller. He took Jackson out of the buggy and placed him inside a baby swing, pushing him gently while pulling silly faces making him giggle. Your heart swelled watching them.

"He's incredible.. those eyes.."

"Your eyes, Jim." He looked up at you and smiled listening to his son's giggle, before he started becoming grouchy again.

"He's teething... Come on little man, let's get you back shall we?" Jim lifted him from the swing and placed his little finger in Jackson's mouth. He responded by sucking his gums along it, finding relief. You smiled, watching Him soothe your son's whimpers of pain as his teeth came through.

Making your way inside Natalie's house, you were surprised to find it empty. A note on the kitchen counter read that they'd gone out for the afternoon, they wouldn't be home until the evening. You warmed a bottle of milk for Jackson as Jim gave him some Calpol. Taking the bottle from you, he fed his son, as you watched, heart pounding as you watched the man you were still in love with take such good care of your baby. Within 15 minutes, Jackson was fed and had been rocked to sleep in his father's arms, you took him and placed him upstairs in his cot to nap. You knew he'd be out for at least an hour after all that fresh air. Walking back into the lounge, you found Jim sat on the sofa waiting for you.

"Come here, y/n..." You sat next to him as he turned to face you, hand gently caressing your cheek. "What are we going to do now?"

"I'm heading back to London tomorrow Jim..." His eyes glistened slightly. He'd just found his son, and now he was going again. He'd just got you back in his life, and now you were disappearing again...

"What can I do to make you stay?" His question took you by surprise. Stay?

"Jim, I..."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you.. about what happened 2 years ago. How long I'd wanted you, how long I'd dreamt of you, how I still dream of you even now.. and we share a son y/n.. I can't let you go again, it'd break me.."

"I'm half your age Jim! I'm barely older than your eldest child, how can this possibly work?" He answered with a kiss. Leaning forward to take your mouth against his, without thinking you returned it, linking your fingers with his as he pulled you into his lap.

"It'll work because we'll make it work.. nothing else matters.. all of that other stuff is irrelevant.." he felt you grind your hips against his and his erection was burning against his jeans. He needed you, now.

"And Danielle?"

"Is fucking a man old enough to be her own father - opinion invalid. I don't care about her, I care about you.. please.." he was aware of how desperate he sounded but he didn't care. He had his hand under your t-shirt against your breast, no bra in the way this time. Lifting you up, he carried you upstairs to the guest room you were staying in, and laid you down softly on the bed underneath him.

"Birth control?" He looked at you, smiling.

"The coil - don't worry, I'm covered this time.." You smiled back as he lifted your t-shirt over your head and kissed you again. The reason for being at the pharmacy 2 years ago was to collect your prescription for the pill - you'd not taken it for a couple of days after running out suddenly. After Jackson was born, you switched to a more efficient form of birth control.

Pulling your skirt down and off, along with your underwear, he nestled his face between your thighs, now parted by his hands.

"I want you to watch me y/n... Watch me as I make you cum..." Your core burning, you raised yourself up on your elbows as he blew a hot breath against your wet folds, causing you to shiver under him. He parted your lips with his fingers, before licking from your pulsing hole up to your clit, finding a rhythm that made you cry out and shudder underneath his tongue. Smiling, groaning into you, you tried to keep your eyes on him as he licked and sucked your throbbing clit in his mouth.

"Jim.. don't stop.. oh god..." You hadn't had sex since that afternoon 2 year ago, no one being good enough to compete with the man currently buried between your legs. No pleasure you'd given yourself since was a patch on this, and you felt that burning feeling in your stomach starting to rise. "I'm close... Mm... Fuck I'm close..." Your words barely a whisper but he heard them, pushing harder with his tongue as a finger entered you, hooking upwards to find that spot inside, the one you didn't think actually existed, but there it was.. you bucked against his mouth, coming hard and fast - you felt your liquids gush over his chin, there was no stopping them... "Aha... Oh god Jim... Fuck... Stop, it's too much..." He smiled, blowing another warm breath over you before moving back to your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips, turning you on even more.

Flipping him onto his back, you lifted his clothes off him and kissed down his chest. Your core needed a breather before you took him inside you. Licking the top of his now rock hard cock, you slowly sank your lips down, taking him fully inside your mouth. You'd never had a strong gag reflex, and you enjoyed the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"Holy fuck... Jesus y/n... That's it baby..." Up and down your head bobbed, swapping between hard and light sucks, your teeth gently scraping the underside of his cock and your fingers lightly playing with his balls underneath you. Every time you felt them tighten, you'd ease off, allowing him to catch his breath, before bringing him into your mouth again. After a few near explosions, he couldn't take anymore and lifted you off motioning for you to sit on him. "Ride me y/n..." You smiled, and sank your pussy onto him, allowing him to fill you. Slowly so as to adjust to his length, your hips moved, back and forth, up and down, finding the right rhythm for you both. He sat up, chests together and his hands under your thighs as he rotated his hips from underneath, driving his cock against that magical spot again.

"Yes... God that feels good... Jim..."

"I'm not gonna last long y/n..."

"That's okay.. we've got plenty of time to make up for this... Cum in me, give me all of you..." You felt his cock twitch inside you as he moved your hips faster. Leaning back, you rode him hard, the bed frame squeaking underneath as you both cried out, your climaxes arriving simultaneously. Coming back to rest your head against his, you clenched your core once more causing him to gasp as you drew yourself off him slowly. Lay down next to each other, he pulled you into his arms.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked, kissing your head gently. "Plenty of time?"

"I meant it, Jim... I need to get back to London to sort a few things, put my flat up for sale.. my job... But yes. If you'll have us, we'll come back.." you looked into his eyes. He lifted your head to kiss you and you felt it. All the love you thought you'd never find, in the man you thought you'd never find it with.

Everything was going to be fine, you couldn't wait to start your life over again, this time for the last time.

@margoo0 @queenshelby @peakyscillian @cloudofdisney @ntmynouis @being-worthy

#delinquent season #jim delinquent season x y/n #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian x smut

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