#THESE ARE TECHNICALLY DOODLES SO IGNORE THE MISSING HANDS.

[sillyfairygarden]

they’re a world class singer, with a sold out show

#zombiecleo loving hours yet again #JAZZ AU JAZZ AU. brain orbiting 10 miles an hour (rather slow) but zooming up with other hermit designs to complement them #(this is a thinly veiled excuse to draw hermits in fancy clothes. i am guilty as charged your honour.) #zombiecleo fanart #zombiecleo #mcyt fanart #hermitcraft fanart #mcyt #fanart #thellos art corner #if you need me ill be over here in the corner uhhhh screaming #THESE ARE TECHNICALLY DOODLES SO IGNORE THE MISSING HANDS. #jazz au #<now featuring a tag! oh boy i wonder why

[yourmidnightlover]

Xavier x Reader piece where reader saw Bianca leaving Xavier’s dorm and assumes they’re back together after Xavier & reader would flirt here and there. Reader begins to ignore him and he’s confused as to why… idk could be cute, could be smutty just a random thought

SO CUTE AGHHH

rumors

pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: reader noticed xavier pulling away and tried to talk to him about it when she sees bianca barclay leaving his room looking more than satisfied.

warning: !not proofread! read the request ig, i also did add smut, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv, VERY soft sex bc i’m a softy myself :)

a/n: i tried to follow the request as much as possible, and i hope i did it justice! i’m also so so sorry for the tardiness of the post, even though there isn’t a specific deadline or anything. i’m working my way through my requests and my series! i want to make sure everything has at least a half decent plot <3

you weren’t stupid. you had heard the rumors. those rumors being that xavier and bianca were back together.

now, you had also thought that wasn’t true. you and xavier had hung out on many, many occasions, going as far as you you ending up on his lap during a heated make out session. so, maybe you just assumed it wasn’t true.

but it was more than flirting and kissing with you. it was conversations about constellations and religion. it was cuddling until 1 am in his room because you didn’t want to be apart from each other. it was falling asleep on the phone for a few days when weems nearly caught you. it was more.

or was it all in your head?

it had been nearly 9 months since xavier and bianca had broken up. he seemed content with the breakup, mostly unaffected by it aside from his trust issues spiking like no other.

bianca, on the other hand, seemed furious. maybe about the breakup, maybe about seeing you with him. either way, she was mad and it seemed to involve xavier.

the past few weeks he had seemed distant. he wouldn’t call you as much. there were significantly less cuddle sessions. he wouldn’t kiss you as often. you know he doesn’t technically need to do those things. it’s not a requirement, you aren’t in a relationship or anything, but you missed it like no other.

so, when you were headed to his room to talk about everything and saw bianca leaving his room, you hid behind a pillar before she saw you. but you saw her. you saw her with that smirky smile on her face.

you basically knew what that meant. now, you knew why he was being so distant. bianca and xavier were probably going to get back together. he was going to leave you in the dust.

like any logical person, you decided that instead of letting him abruptly cut you out of his life, you would cut him out first.

this world is a kill or be killed, hurt or be hurt world. you were already hurt, but you definitely didn’t want to end up dead. yet.

“hey, y/n,” he called to you in the hallway as you were walking to your next class that you happened to have with him. “y/n,” he jogged to catch up with you. you didn’t even look his way. “hey, so i was wondering what you were doing later on today?” his shoulder nudged your own, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “y/n?”

you continued to walk to class, not even bothering to look up at the gorgeous smile that you were sure was beginning to fade. you sat in the back of the class, where there was no seat beside you, instead of sitting in your rightful seat beside xavier.

the one time you mustered up the courage to look at him during class, he had this puzzled look on his face as he was doodling something he would normally show you once he was done.

“hey,” enid sat beside you in your next class with a worried tone. “ajax and i were talking, and he said that xavier is confused about you. well, more confused about why you’ve been ignoring him? and i know it’s not really any of my business, but i was just wondering if you were okay? because you can always talk to me no matter what! off the record, too!”

“enid,” you smiled as she looked at you expectedly. “i’m okay… or, i’ll be okay. i just realized some things and now i’m dealing with the repercussions the best i know how. but if it ever becomes too much, i know who to come to,” she smiled as you did the same before running back to her desk beside ajax.

you knew she cared about you. but you also knew that she cannot keep her mouth shut. you love that about her, but it also means you have to be careful what you tell her. you know you made the right decision as you hear her loudly whisper:

“she said she’s okay and that she realized some things, but i dunno, jax! i guess she might need some space?”

you chuckled to yourself as the teacher began the lesson. she was a lovely girl, only doing what she thought was best for her friends.

the next day, it happened at dinner.

you had avoided his table at all costs, not even glancing at him as you saw him trying to wave you down out of the corner of your eye. you sat down at an empty table near the trash cans, one that nobody really wanted to even sit at and began eating quickly so you could leave.

your lunch was cut short when he plopped down beside you. you waited a few seconds, ignoring whatever came out of his mouth before standing. you muttered a small, ‘not that hungry,’ before tossing your food in the trash and making your way to your room.

“y/n,” he was rapidly knocking on your door. “y/n, let me in! i don’t know what’s going on but you have got to stop ignoring me,” there was a moment of silence where you contemplated opening the door, but all you could see was the look on bianca’s face showing you all you needed to know. “please open the door.”

it was when you heard footsteps walking away that you let the tears that you didn’t know were building fall freely. hunched over at your desk, sobbing into your hands, you let yourself truly feel what you had pushed down for days.

you truly fell for this guy over the past few months of knowing him. while you hated not talking to him, you knew it would hurt more if you let yourself stay attached only for him to break things off sooner rather than later.

it had been maybe fifteen minutes if you letting yourself sob into your hands when you heard a rapping at your window. you turned to see xavier, standing outside with his hands shoved in his pockets as he shivered in the cold.

“please, let me in, y/n,” his eyes were pleading with you. you never should’ve met them. “let me in.”

with a huff, you walked to the window and unlocked it, grabbing onto his arm to help guide him in. in all of the time you had been hanging out, he had never been so desperate as to climb up the fire escape to see you.

“what the hell, thorpe?” you scolded him, knowing he hated when you called him by his last name. “you’re an idiot.”

“yea, i might be an idiot,” he nodded as he sighed, adjusting to the warmer environment in spite of how cold you had been to him. “but i’m not the one that’s been ignoring my best friend for days.”

“you’re kidding, right?” you scoffed as you went to sit down on the edge of your bed. “i wasn’t sure you’d even notice, let alone care.”

“why the hell would i not care?” he threw his hands up in defeat as he began pacing back and forth in front of you. “god, do you not get that i care about you? you’re my best friend. of course i’ll notice and care when you ice me out!”

“you did it first!” you pointed your finger accusingly at him before taking a deep breath. “you stopped hanging out with me. you would barely come over. you barely even… god i sound like a moron.”

“i barely even what?” he froze at looked longingly at you as he awaited your answer.

“you barely even kiss me anymore,” you opted to avoid his gaze by finding interest in your own hands. “and i was going to talk to you about it a few nights ago when i saw bianca walking out of your dorm. and believe me, she looked more than satisfied so don’t worry about your own performance.”

“is that…” he was lost in thought before something clicked in his head. “you thought that her and i…” his brows rose insinuatingly.

“of course, i did!” you felt the tears well in your eyes again. “and i felt… i felt stupid. and i felt used. and then it made sense, why you stopped talking to me as much and why you were distancing yourself. it clicked. because you want to get back together with her.”

“y/n, i-“

“let me finish!” you snapped. “you owe me that much. you could’ve at least told me! you could’ve told me we weren’t going anywhere before i fucking fell for you! god, i don’t know if it was a game for you to see how many ‘bitches’ you could pull or what, but i don’t-“

his lips were on your own. his hands were cupping your face and his lips were kissing you passionately. your hands went to his wrists, almost to keep him there before you remembered why he had to kiss you to shut up.

“thorpe-“

“i love you,” he pressed his forehead against your own with a sorry look on his face. “she’s been trying to get back at me since the breakup. then, she noticed how i much i cared about you. she figured out how i felt and told me to stop doing… what we were doing or she would tell you. i didn’t think you’d feel the same way. i thought you would be freaked out by the fact that i was in love with you. i’m so, so sorry.”

you lightly pressed your lips to his, only for a short moment. “you could’ve told me, xay.”

“i’m realizing that now,” he smiled softly. “let me make it up to you?”

you nodded your head, “and how did you plan on doing that?”

“well,” he lifted you up by your ass, gently scooting you up on your bed. “before she blackmailed me, i was being distant because i was planning something very, very nice for you,” he began kissing down your neck, his hands now trailing up and down your body leaving goosebumps in their wake. “something romantic,” he sucked harshly on the spot that drove you crazy before one hand shot to his hair, the other going to his shoulder to draw him closer. “something a bit nicer for what i really, really want to do with you,” he emphasized with a gentle bite to your earlobe. “to you,” you moaned at that one, grinding up on his thigh that was between your legs.

“xavier,” you whimpered. “i want you… please?” he pressed his leg further into your core leading to you throwing your head back, giving him more of your neck to work with.

“let me take my time,” he worked his hands underneath your shirt, looking up at you for permission before you helped him throw it over your head. you tugged at his own shirt with a smirk.

“mmkay,” you nodded as he kissed up your stomach, sucking and nibbling on your skin to mark you more than he already had. “missed you so much, xay. missed you so much.”

“me too, love,” you lifted your chest as he unclasped your bra. “i missed you too,” once he disregarded the bra, he began to eagerly suckle on one of your breasts. he carefully teased the nipple with his tongue, letting his hand massage the neglected one, his fingers gently pinching your nipples just the same.

“please,” you continued to hump his thigh eagerly as he continued to switch his actions to the alternate breast. “please do more?”

“whatever you want,” he smiled before pulling at the waistband of your skirt. you lifted your hips to help him pull both the skirt and underwear down your legs. “so fucking perfect. and all mine,” his fingers danced around your pelvis before he got of the bed, putting your thighs over his shoulders to drag you to the edge, a laugh leaving your mouth.

“all yours, xay,” you smiled as he began to toy with the bundle of nerves at your center. “oh my god. that feels so… so good,” your hand was now playing with his hair, the other grasping his shoulder tightly. “i think you should know,” you huffed out a breath as his lips wrapped around your center. “oh fuck. shit, please keep going,” he let a finger slowly enter your center. “oh my god.”

“are you sure?” he momentarily stopped before you guided his head back to your center, nodding eagerly as your head swung back once more.

“i’m so fucking sure,” his tongue was gently massaging your clit excellently. with each tug and take your fingers did to his hair, another moan left his mouth. the vibrations worked their way through your entire body, making you feel everything.

“god, i can’t believe we’ve never done this. i think-oh fuck-i think i’m close. please don’t stop!” your thighs began to clamp over his head as your hips rutted against his mouth. “xavier! holy shit,” you had to pull him away by his shoulders.

“you like?” he chuckled as he pressed his lips to your own. he felt you continue to grind against his leg before you pressed your hand against his bulge to massage it. “y/n,” his forehead dropped to your own.

“i wanna do this with you,” your free hand went to cup his cheek. “only if you want to, of course. but you have my full, enthusiastic consent for all of it,” it was your smile that convinced him.

“i don’t-i don’t have any-“

“just don’t use one,” you pleaded. “i’ve been on the shot for a little over a year and i’m clean…”

“have i told you how much i love you?” he groaned before you worked your hand under his pants, pulling his hard dick out and stroking it a few times before he kicked his pants off. you lined it up with your center. “i’m gonna go slow, okay?”

“mmkay,” you nodded. “just… please?” he pushed his tip in, leaving your jaw dropped from the intrusion.

your arms went underneath his arms that were beside your head to hold him up, wrapping around his shoulders. you whimpered with each inch he pushed inside of you, your nails digging into his skin.

“jesus christ, you’re so tight,” he groaned as he bottomed out inside of you. “holy fuck.”

“uh huh,” you nodded. “feels like… your in my stomach,” your whines were filling his ears. “please move? please?”

his hips began to piston in and out of you. with each thrust, a symphony of moans we’re pulled from your throat. he pulled back to look at you lovingly, letting one of his hands cup your face before he pressed a kiss to your lips. he used this distraction to pick up the pace.

the sounds of his hips hitting your thighs began to resonate throughout your single, your moans only getting louder as you breathed in each others’ air.

he brought the hand that was cupping your face down to your clit, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. with the way your pussy began to pulsate around his cock, he knew he was close to the edge.

“y/n,” he huffed out, his forehead resting against your own as you nodded.

“i know,” you held onto his arms. “me too. just-just do it inside, please? cum inside of me?”

“yea, yes,” he pressed his lips to yours once more before watching as you fell apart on his cock. your head was thrown back, but your eyes remained on his as he joined you in his own ecstasy.

“oh my god,” you held him closely as your bodies came down from the high. his hands cradled your body tenderly once you were both safely on the ground.

“oh my god is right,” he chuckled as he carefully pulled out, laughing a bit more as you winced from the sensitivity. he got up and went to your bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and dampening it so he could wiped up the mess between your thighs.

“i really do love you,” you smiled up at him as he pulled his shirt over your head. “like a lot,” you both smiled.

“i think you also really love how i made you cum, pretty girl,” a hot blush crawled up your cheeks. “you realize you were just naked underneath me, right?”

“yes!” you shrieked out. “i know that… it’s just-i don’t know. i get-i have the right to be vulnerable after having sex!”

“i know you do,” he smiled as he pulled on his pants, crawling into bed beside you before you opted to simply lay on top of him. “i’m just teasing,” he pressed a kiss to your hairline.

“meanie head,” you grumbled into his bare chest, his warm skin never feeling more comforted by anything.

“you weren’t saying that whe- ow!” you pinched his nipple and began to laugh at his whining. “what the hell?”

“stop teasing,” you said smugly. he could feel your smile against his skin.

“after that?” he scoffed. “i’ve learned my lesson,” he hugged you tighter as you littered light kisses to his chest.

“goodnight, xavier,” you let your chin rest on his chest so you could look at him with the cheesiest grin that’s ever existed.

“i love you,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your lips once more before you laid back down on him.

you fell asleep to the beat of his heart calming your own. he fell asleep to the lull of your soft breath. you both woke up with the warm embrace of your love for the other, which is how it would be from then on out.

#xavier thorpe fanfiction #xavier thorpe hurt/comfort #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday netflix #netflix #netflix series

[narrators-journal]

I'm a bad, bad magician

This! Request! Has been in what can be called the writer's equivilent of 'production hell'. I spent so long writing this in chunks due to a mix of family drama, multiple friend dramas going on, and art projects. So if this is janky, I'm very sorry, and I'm so sorry it took so fuckin' long to get out. My life ha been chaos, and on top of that I've been dealing with some mental health shit. But! I tried my best with this, and I hope that it's at least coherent lol. Bc I cannot bring myself to look this thing over a literal fifth time within three days...

Also! There is one last request for this book! But I'm not gonna lie, with the turbulence of my schedule, mental health, and family, I don't know when that will finally come out! So I just hope you enjoy this part, and if you come back to check for that last one, I appreciate it too. Or check out my fanfiction passion project that is gonna be back in the works soon!

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Bondage, master/slave or servant, orgasm denial, I kept it pretty simple for obvious reasons.

With a sigh, Gen Asagiri tossed down his book and looked around at his home. Shockingly modern for a building built after an alien race turned humanity into immortal statues and left their societies to rot and be reclaimed by overgrowth. Yet, despite the fact he’d gone from living in an apartment with little more than a plant and an agent to keep him company, the mentalist still sat alone in his living room. Reading a smut novella since Senku had revoked the television set for parts.

Letting off another sigh, the mentalist tossed his novella aside to stand up. And, without a real plan on what else to do beyond the books, he meandered around his and Senku’s home for a bit. First, to the kitchen to look through the ingredients and experiments kept in their chest freezer, then down the hall towards the bedroom. Yet, he paused when his ear caught the tell-tale sound of his beloved scientist lost in his technical terminology and complex plans. Not an unfamiliar sound at all, as Senku was almost stubbornly prone to rambling about his sciences, but it still planted a mischevious voice in Gen’s head.

Feeling an equally mischevious grin spread across his face as he crept along to the room Senku had made into his partial office and lab. Following the sound of the leek-haired man’s chattering until he pushed the office door open. And, sure enough, Senku sat at the heavy, intricately carved wooden desk with a phone to his ear, and a mat of paperwork and notes in front of him, barely glancing up when Gen slipped into the room.

Lingering by the door, the magician watched him work for a lengthy moment before meandering over to the desk as casually as he could to lean on it and tilt his head. Batting his dark lashes cutely at his partner and giving him a pleading look that Senku, expectedly, missed in favor of scrawling doodles onto his paper and listening to his call partner.

So, huffing at the leek’s cold airs, Gen moved around the desk to lean against the desk, this time a mere step away from his partner, who continued to almost play ignorant to his presence. You’re such an ass.

With that, Gen gave up on his subtle game and simply dropped to his knees to crawl under the desk. Situating himself between Senku’s legs and running the tips of his fingers up along the seam of the scientist’s crotch to finally get a noticeable reaction from the man. But, the magician didn’t stop there, he pressed on. Sliding his fingers back up Senku’s crotch to tug down his zipper.

When he felt those intellegent rubies on him, Gen looked up to meet Senku’s dirty look. His phone partner left hanging as he hissed, “What the hell are you doing, Asagiri?” But his only response was the way the dual-tone-haired man pressed his lips to the shallow tent in in his boxers. Running the palms of his hands over Senku’s thighs and the tips of his fingers along the waistband of the scientist’s underwear. Ignoring his low growl of frustration as he freed his lover’s slowly stiffening member, glancing back up at him with a devious twinkle in his blue eyes. Both aware of Gen’s smugness, and how unsavory Senku’s options were. Abruptly end his work call to punish the bratty mentalist, or try to power through regardless of his antics.

He chose the latter.

So, Gen happily continued his game. Leaving a warm trail of kisses up the scientist’s shaft, lapping at the head of his cock, and relishing each twitch or choked word the leek-haired man let slip as he talked. Especially when the man slipped his length into his mouth. Letting more and more of Senku slip past his lips bit by bit until Gen was about halfway down. Once there, the mentalist began bobbing his head slowly. Taking his time to swirl his tongue around his lover’s cock, and give specific attention to the head until he twitched against his tongue.

And, while most partners would be dissapointed in their lovers reaching their orgasm so soon, Gen found a bit of pride in seeing how, even though Senku was doing everything in his power to ignore him and stay on track with his science talk, the mentalist could still rile the man up in record time. It was thrilling, and empowering, and so many other things that Gen couldn’t quite place as he kept his focus on his lewd movements.

So, he put the thinking aside and simply continued his movements. Taking his time to lavish Senku with attention, but he also took some time to pick up his pace to draw out more twitches, jolts, or rogue noises from the scientist before a warm burst of thick, salty liquid down his throat. Not that Gen minded, happily drinking down the scientist’s cum before pulling away and smiling. Going ahead and standing up to lean back against the desk to watch Senku rush to babble out a farewell and hang up his call.

And, as soon as the odd-haired man hung up his call, he was quick to stand up and slam his hands on either side of the desk behind the man. All the while those ruby eyes pinned Gen in place like a preserved butterfly to be studied with a chilly calculation. “Asagiri.” He said again, his words matching the icy calculation the dual-tone-haired man saw in his expression. And while a small part of him didfeel bad for possibly being a thorn to his lover, a far bigger part of him was ready to melt against that intricately-carved, sturdy desk. “Yes, senku?~” He hummed, his voice dipped in his best sickly innocence, but after all of their time together, Senku saw right through it. “Is there maybe a reason you interrupted such an important call like that?” He asked, the dark, villainous edge in his low voice sending a pleased shiver down Gen’s back.

And, despite Senku seeing through his ploys, the magician threw his arms around the scientist’s neck with a dramatic, “I’m boooooooreeed, Senku! Entertain me, somehow! Since you took my damned television.” His words whiney and playfully pouty as he draped himself against the scientist’s chest and gave him his best puppy-dog eyes. His own blue eyes watching the steps of thought his boyfriend went through before a glint of his own evil ignited in those depths.

”You want me to entertain you?” He asked, as if he didn’t trust the mentalist, even when he nodded eagerly. That glint having grown into an ember that Gen felt in his own belly as Senku continued with a smirk. “Fine. But if you want to be entertained, I need you to fetch some rope.”

Rope. Such a simple request, but it was still enough to make the man gasp with quiet excitement.

Rope was always a good sign, in Gen Asagiri’s books. A promise, of sorts, that he’d be victim to some delicious, torturous game. Prey to the whims of whatever his dear ‘Master’ deemed good enough that night. Or, in simple words, it was never a boring time when Senku brought up rope. “Well? What are you waiting for?” The leek-looking man sniffed, giving a sharp gesture and a firmer order, “Go get me rope.” Stepping into his usual role so easily that Gen coudn’t help but do the same. “Yes, Master.”

With that, the magician was swift to fetch the length of rope they sometimes used for their little games. The simple feeling of the scratchy, gently frayed material in his hand making Gen’s dick twitch in his pants. Yet, he simply took a deep breath and swallowed down the lewd urges bubbling back up in his mind. Breathe, Asagiri. If you’re caught touching yourself over the rope, Senku might get EXTRA creative with his plots. You’ve pushed the boundary enough tonight.He reminded himself, letting out the breath he’d been holding slowly. Then, he took the rope back to Senku.

Finding the leek sitting back at his desk, casually looking over some complex equations with barely a disinterested glance to the magician when he walked back in. “Put the rope down, take your clothes off, and put your hands behind your back.” He said simply. And, while he strictly kept his crimson eyes glued to his papers, Gen still felt his heart race as he dropped the rope to shed his shirt in a calculated, slow movement. Not taking long enough to get scolded, but just sensually enough to channel a seductive strip tease into the way he let his clothing fall to the office floor before obediently putting his hands behind his back.

All the while, his winter-y blue eyes watched Senku take his sweet time in putting his papers down and getting up from his chair to approach. Letting nothing show in his movements as he picked up the rope and began decorating Gen’s skin with a network of bondage.

Only once the mentalist’s wrists had been securely restrained in scratchy rope was he pulled over to Senku’s desk. Watching in silent anticipation as his science-obsessed lover discarded his own pants and sat down. His already-slightly-stiffened cock on display while he dug around in the messy, paper-filled drawers for a small jar of lube he kept in his office. Gen watching with desire warming his blood for the excruciatingly long heartbeats Senku took to lube himself up with slow strokes.

Once he was fully erect, and Gen was fidgeting in his restraints, the scientist finally pulled him over and spun him around. Dragging the magician down on his erection by his tied up wrists. The slow sensation of being full flooding Gen’s head with a thrilling rush of excitement that drew out a low moan as soon as Senku’s entire length was buried in him.

Only for that bliss to be fed when his lover slid a hand around him and wrapped his fingers around the magician’s member. Running his thumb over the head, then sliding down his length entirely. But, again, at a painfully slow pace that stirred up fresh fireworks in the dual-tone-haired man’s belly. Only for that simmering warmth to be interrupted before Gen could build up anything close to his orgasm. Senku’s hand retreating once again in favor of him growling in his ear, “Now, I’m going to return to my calls. Youwill sit there. And If you move, or make a fucking sound, I will keep you blueballed for literal fucking days.” unmistakably feeling the mentalist shudder around his cock as he spoke. Especially when he added, “Am I clear?”

And, without hesitation, the bound man nodded eagerly. His only words an obedient breath of, “Yes, Master.” That seemed to please his lover. Yet, that was the end of the chit-chat between the two. Senku simply returned to making his calls and discussing his precious time machine. So, Gen was left to sit there mutely.

All the while, Senku babbled on about some scientific stuff that, of course, slid in one of Gen’s ears and right out of the other, but just the sound of his voice, and the way his inhales pressed his chest to the magician’s back sent shivers down the dual-haired man’s spine. Even if he wasn’t allowed to move, the subtle twitches of the scientist’s cock in his ass and movements of his body fanned the flames well enough.

Yet, he bit back the urge to whine for a crumb of attention, or squirm in the constricting embrace of the tight ropes the lover had used to so meticulously bind his skillful hands behind his back. Even if some more severe punishment would be all the more fun, he was told to simply sit still on the scientist’s cock until his work call was finally finished.

I really did not time this well. The man thought, his mouth twisted into more creative shapes as he half listened to Senku talk about molecules and chemical reactions for his time machine. If I’d sucked his dick further in the call, I wouldn’t be waiting this long. Yet, he had, so fittingly, this was his punishment.

Though, before the magician’s mind could wander into the recesses of fantasies and maybe a bit of sleep, Senku’s hand slid around to wrap around to his neglected erection. The simple warmth of skin-to-skin contact enough to send a shiver back through Gen’s body and bring him back to the moment entirely. So when the scientist began to slowly stroke his length, a moan nearly bubbled out of the tied man’s mouth. But, he swallowed it back down and settled for simply arching his back while his head lolled back to lay against Senku’s shoulder. The movement a firm reminder of the scientist’s member still buried in Gen’s ass like a forbidden apple, begging to be eaten. Or, in this case, ridden.

Yet, Senku’s earlier words rattled through his head still. “If you move, or make a fucking sound, I will keep you blueballed for literal fucking days.” A dangerous promise that grew more and more likely with each slow stroke of Senku’s hand along his length without missing a beat on his call. His earlier lack of composure seemingly forgotten and corrected. Or, maybe the fact Senku was the one in control this time gave him more composure. Just move. Just wiggle your hips a little bit. A dark voice in the magician’s mind encouraged, but another reminded, If I do that, I won’t get off at all. Senku’s mean enough to follow through on that cruel warning.

Gen let out a small, quiet breath as he laid back against Senku and let the crimson-eyed scientist continue to stoke the flames in his twitching belly. Slowly building that licentious fire bit by bit, log by bitterly slow log. Stewing the magician in a broiling pot of impatience, excitement, and desperate lust as if to tempt Gen to fight the bite of the ropes against his skin.

All the while that Gen Asagiri was fighting the encroaching urges slithering around beneath his skin, the scientist who’s lap he sat in simply kept rambling about his stupid time machine. Working Gen’s cock like it was little more than a lazy doodle in his chemistry textbook while he listened to his college professor. It was torture. Stomach-twisting, breath-stealing, pleasurable torture. Yet, the only acknowledgment of his dick being buried in the magician’s guts, twitching and throbbing, was a husky whisper of, “Remember what I warned you about.” in the split-haired man’s ear when a small whine slipped through the cracks of his lover’s defenses. Offered when Gen’s hands began to fidget against the coarse texture of the rope and his breathing got uneven. Each hissed word earning another addictive shiver around his cock. But, it wasn’t until Gen heard a deliciously thrilling, “Alright, I should get to bed before dawn breaks. Good night, Xeno, thanks for the lecture.”

Maybe the magician hadn’t timed himself too badly.

#Dcst #Dr stone #kinktober #Sengen #Senku ishigami x Gen Asagiri #kinktober 2023 #spicy #kinkstober2023 #ao3 #ao3 ask #Gen Asagiri #Senku Ishigami #not sfw #lemon

[captains-simp]

hello i love your work!! can you do a part 2 to worth our time? :”) maybe wherein carol is actually getting soft for the reader and wants to be together but the reader is hesitant bc of carol being known as a player? maybe some jealous carol as well? 😳😳

Soft!jock!Carol is a god tier idea and I really hope I did it justice

Shout out to @wlwmarvelenthusiast for helping me with my technical difficulties

Part 1

7.5k words

Warnings: oral, praise and double ended dildo use

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Why are you ignoring Carol?" Wanda asked with a frown as you sped out of the school car park a little too hastily. She narrowed her eyes at you, ready to read into every expression that flickered across your face.

"I'm not ignoring her, I'm avoiding her. It's different." You insisted as you kept your eyes on the road in front of you, determined to leave the school grounds before a certain blonde left the building and got into her own car.

"It's exactly the same thing just in a different font." Wanda stated as she continued to watch you.

"It's not. And anyway, I'm not obligated to talk to her." You said quieter, not finding enough confidence in your words. Of course you weren't obligated to talk to Carol, but you missed it - more than you would admit to yourself.

"I know, I thought you liked her though. You said your date went well with her but since then you run out of every room she enters."

"It wasn't really a date." You muttered as took a left and eyed your mirror.

"Y/n." Wanda laughed. "I think I know a date when it's described to me."

"But it's Carol, Wanda. Carol doesn't do dates." You insisted as you tried your hardest to avoid your friend's gaze again. You didn't want her to see the pain in your eyes.

"She did with you."

"She went down on me-"

"Yes, I remember that catch up conversation." Wanda chuckled and you threw an empty sweet packet you had left in the car at her.

"And I'm not complaining about that. It's just... you know I'm not one to judge people by rumors, but Carol seems like a pretty strict 'hookups only' type of gal. Every time me and Carol are alone together we end up fucking and again, I'm not complaining about that, but it's enough to tell me she doesn't want anything more from me. Not even fuck buddies, because she doesn't commit to girls." You breathed out deeply as you parked up outside yours and Wanda's favourite coffee shop, suddenly not able to tell if you weren't in the mood for your hot chocolate or in desperate need of one.

"I think there might be a little more to it than that." Wanda said after a moment. She knew where you were coming from but she also couldn't deny the fidgety nature and anxious look in the blonde's eyes a few days prior.

"She called it a date last time you were together, she hasn't done that before. She was worried when you were sick and she's only ever worried when her teammates are sick."

"She wasn't worried." You rolled your eyes lightly and managed a small smile at Wanda.

"Oh she definitely was."

You groaned when you heard your phone vibrate on your bedside table. You rolled over begrudgingly, only bothering to check it because you knew it was lunch break at school and it might have been Wanda sending you the class notes you had asked for.

Unknown number: when I saw you weren't in class I assumed you were dead

You frowned as you took a double take of the message and the number you didn't recognize. The fuck? You decided to respond anyway, if they were in your class and texted you maybe they would send you their notes too.

You: sorry, who is this??

Unknown number: your favourite jock ;)

They replied, pretty much instantly. You put two and two together, but really the smirking face would have been enough.

You: Carol? How did you get this number??

You rubbed your eyes and pulled you sick bowl closer to you, frowning at the discomfort you felt.

Unknown number: so I am your favourite jock?? Good to know

You rolled your eyes and groaned more, knowing Carol wouldn't be forgetting that in a hurry. You didn't respond to that, instead shutting off your phone in hopes of getting more sleep but a minute later another text came through. You knew it would be Carol, but you still reached over to check it.

Unknown number: and Wanda gave it to me

"Dammit, Wanda." You grumbled, going to write her an angry message but Carol had something else to say.

Unknown number: I asked very nicely

You fought off a smile weakly and decided to change her contact, telling yourself it might be useful to keep it.

Jackass: You home alone?

She didn't seem to want to stop talking. Although you couldn't deny that it made you smile more when you wondered if she meant was anyone there to look after you.

You: I am, parents have to work

Jackass: want me to come over and make you feel better? ;)

Suddenly you didn't feel like talking to Carol anymore. You were sick and feeling crappy and all Carol wanted to do was fuck, she was hardly subtle about it either. If you hadn't already been thinking long and hard about what the jock could possible think of you, that would have been the moment you started to ponder it.

With your mood somehow lowered even more, you turned your phone off to go back to sleep, accidentally swiping the notification that read Jackass: * :)

"I still can't believe you gave her my number." You grumbled as you swirled the chocolaty drink in front of you.

"She did ask very nicely." Wanda grinned.

"Enough about her." You said, leaning forward on your elbows to grin back at your friend. "How's your girlfriend?"

*

You were on your phone when you saw a donut being pushed across the table towards you out of the corner of your eye. It was your favourite type that also happened to be the one the cafeteria rarely sold, so when it landed in front of you you looked up with a smile, expecting to see Wanda smiling knowingly back at you.

Carol grinned as she pulled out the chair opposite you and sat herself down. Your eyes flickered over to Wanda who was trying to hide her smile and look away.

"It's for you." Carol said after a second.

"What do I have to do for it?" You asked, only half joking as you eyed the treat suspiciously.

"Come on another date with me." She winked. You leaned back and looked away from Carol and the donut, displeased but not surprised. "Nothing." Carol said quickly. "You don't have to do anything, I just know that one's your favourite." The blonde said. You had never told her that. You eyed Wanda again who quickly looked away like she hadn't been watching the interaction and leaned into Natasha.

"Thank you, Danvers." You said quietly, moving the napkin that the donut was on closer to you.

"I thought we were passed that." Carol chuckled, you wanted to smile at the sound. Carol leaned down to grab something out of her rucksack as you started on the donut, not entirely sure if you should try make conversation or just run away.

"I took notes yesterday, while you were gone." The jock said as she put her notebook on the table and flicked through her badly organised pages to find the one she was looking for. You raised your eyebrows slightly in response.

You had never once seen Carol take actual notes in class, but when she spun the book around to face you you were even more surprised to see the detailed notes she had been taking, even with a couple of small diagrams at the bottom she had probably copied from the board.

"Are they okay? Wilson's pretty good at this shit I'm sure I could get him to-"

"They're great!" You interrupted. "They're...fuck, I'm sorry but since when did you take notes?" You didn't want to seem rude but it felt like you were witnessing a never before seen event or the discovery of a new species.

"Just figured you would want them." Carol shrugged and took a sandwich out her bag.

"Yeah I... thank you." You muttered and smiled when you saw a small doodle of a star. "Can I?" You asked as you motioned to your phone's camera. Carol nodded with a smile and watched as you took photos of her notes.

Wanda coughed from across the table and you shot daggers at her, knowing what she so desperately wanted to say. She hasn't done that for anyone else.

*

"It was sweet of her though." Wanda pointed out as her eyes stayed fixed on Natasha's form.

"It was, but you've gotten me donuts before and you don't want to date me." You said as you tried to stop your eyes trailing to Carol again as they seemed to keep doing.

"Well if Natasha wasn't here..." Wanda teased with a smile. You rolled your eyes at your friend and chuckled.

"Are Carol's abs as hard as they look?" Wanda asked randomly. You couldn't help but look up at the blonde at the mention of her name and perhaps one of your favourite things about her.

It was a hot day and her team was training hard on the field, so most of the athletes had their shirts off. Carol's abs were on full display and given the amount of core stretches she had been doing they were as prominent as ever.

"They are." You muttered, remembering the first time you ran your hands across her chest.

You heard giggling in the row behind you and turned around to see a group of girls also watching Carol and her team train. It was obvious their gazes fell on the same area yours had and suddenly you remembered the long list of names that Carol used to show off proudly.

The girl's whispers became louder as did the giggling and without realizing what you were doing you found yourself comparing you to them. They were popular, effortlessly beautiful and probably had much more experience than you ever had. You couldn't compete with that. Especially when you didn't even know why Carol wanted you. You rested your head on your knees and tried to zone out the world around you as your insecurities ate at you more.

"Come on." Wanda nudged you gently as she stood up from the bleachers. You grabbed your bag and followed after her, noticing that practice was apparently over.

Natasha was standing at the bottom of the bleachers and pulled Wanda into a tight hug. You smiled at the motion, wishing you had what they did.

"Hey." Carol said to you, her eyes shining lightly in the sun.

"Hey yourself." You nodded as you began to walk behind Wanda and Nat. Carol fell into place beside you and made you think about the height difference between you. You were convinced she could give the best piggy back rides.

"You make it look easy." You blurted out. Carol arched a perfect brow at you as she pulled her shirt over her head. "Sport." You generalized, waving your hands.

"Y/n is allergic to sport." Wanda called back.

"Is that right?" Carol smirked as she looked at you.

"It is not, it's just not my thing." You defended.

"Then what is your thing?" Carol asked curiously.

"Wouldn't you like to know." You replied as you searched your brain, not really knowing if you had a thing. Nothing serious at least.

"I would." Carol fired back.

"That's too bad." The jock smiled and decided not to push.

"I'm sure there's a sport you can do." Carol pondered.

"If there is if it could be added to the curriculum that would be really helpful." You sighed.

"Y/n L/n, are you failing a class?" Carol gasped dramatically. You groaned when Wanda laughed, confirming the blonde's assumption.

"Could be worse, I fail loads of classes and everything seems to work out okay." Carol said calmly, seemingly completely unfazed.

You reached the car park and slowed down when you saw Natasha follow Wanda to her car. Wanda was your lift to school and therefore your ride home too. You had stayed behind to study in the library and joined your friend on the bleachers when it shut to see the last of the teams training, not thinking about the fact Wanda was staying behind so she could hang out with Natasha after.

"I can give you a ride home." Carol offered as she threw her car keys up in the air and caught them easily. You pondered that for a second, you really didn't want to be a third wheel to your friend, even if it was a short drive home.

"Yeah, thanks, Danvers." Wanda gave you a knowing smile as she waved goodbye and practically ran to her car with Natasha.Yeah, definitely the best call to leave them alone.

You got into Carol's car and tried to ignore all the memories you had of being in the backseat, instead resting your arm against the window to try and keep your focus on that. Carol didn't say much as you drove which surprised you. She seemed deep in thought about something and you couldn't help but wonder what.

"You want to come to mine?" She said suddenly. You froze in your seat before answering.

"Just my place will do. For me only! I mean I... I have homework." You rambled and felt your whole face heat up. You wondered if being in a car with Wanda and Natasha jumping each other could possibly be more uncomfortable than being sat with Carol and trying to decline her advances.

"I could help." She offered, seemingly genuinely.

"I can handle it." You forced a laugh. Carol nodded and didn't say anything else until she pulled up to your house.

"Thanks again, Danvers." You smiled at the blonde as you hauled you bag up and opened the door.

"I'm always happy to help you out, y/n." Carol smiled back your way genuinely and your stomach did a little flip.

*

You hummed to yourself quietly as you made your way through the school corridors and opened the double doors to the library. You smiled to the librarian as always and got a limited response but your smile faltered when you saw your usual table was taken... by Carol.

She was in her training attire and scrolling mindlessly through her phone until she glanced up and saw you. "Hey." She smiled.

"Are you lost?" You asked as you walked towards her slowly.

"No and go get changed." Was all she said as she pushed a bag of school gym clothes towards you.

"And why would I do that?" You sighed as you peered into the bag.

"Y/n," Carol started as she tilted her chair back and rested her hands behind her head with her feet on the table, her usual confident smile playing on her lips. "Does it or does it not absolutely kill you that you're failing a class?" You paused before flicking yours eyes up to her. Yes, it absolutely did.

"And am I or am I not the best athlete in the school?" Also hard to argue with. You shifted on your feet.

"Come on, y/n. I promise I'll help you at least pass the class." Carol said with certainty. You chewed your gum as you thought about it.

"What do you get out of it?" You asked as you narrowed your eyes at the blonde.

"I can go to sleep at night knowing I've helped an underling." She grinned. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile at her, Carol continued to smile back at you.

"That A* you got us on that project made me pass the class." Carol shrugged.

"Alright, Danvers." You nodded and picked up the bag. "But no funny business."

"Great!" She exclaimed and took her feet off the table to stand up.

"I'll see you in the main hall in 10."

*

Barely ten minutes into Carol's 'warm ups' you were already out of breath and in need of a break. You glared at her every time she barked orders at you with a grin, clearly enjoying bossing you around.

"Catch!" Carol exclaimed as she hauled a basketball at you. You ducked out the way and watched it fly past your head.

"You trying to kill me?!" Carol was bent over laughing at your exasperation and inability to catch a simple ball.

"Shut the fuck up, Danvers." You huffed but managed to hit the second ball that came your way.

"You really are allergic to sports huh?" She teased as you scowled at her. "Okay, let's start with the basics."

Surprisingly, from that point onward Carol wasn't that bad. She gave you a lot of pointers that honestly proved helpful because you slowly started to improve. Granted, you were still bad, but you were better.

"Arms like this." She instructed and watched as you mimicked her shooting position. "Elbows a little higher." You did as she said but she smiled at the attempt and stepped behind you. You froze up a little when she put her hands over yours and lifted them up too to a position that felt more natural.

"You got it." She assured, speaking right next to your ear so you could feel her breath against your skin. Then she withdrew her soft hands from yours and backed away. You missed the contact immediately.

"Now shoot." She instructed. You missed.

*

Carol trained you after school pretty much every day after that. Your limbs always ached after those sessions, so much so you were tempted to cave and take Carol up on her offer of a back rub.

You found that some sports were actually kind of fun to play with Carol, whether it was the absence of the pressure you got in a full class of teenagers or just because you enjoyed the blonde's company, it wasn't all that bad.

You still couldn't find a sport you were good at, but you didn't really care. You wondered what would happen when you did. Would Carol coach you at it for a bit then abandon your sessions? They couldn't keep going forever. The pang you got in your chest was the reason you had been ignoring Carol weeks prior, you didn't want to feel that for her. You just couldn't help it.

"Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night." You recalled as Valkyrie wrote it down.

"I knew it was something like that." She waved off.

"Yeah you were really close with..." You glanced at her notes. "She gives me a boner." You laughed and put your face in your hand.

"That's the modern day translation!" Valkyrie exclaimed defensively.

"Please don't put that in your exam." You sighed as you flicked through your copy of Romeo and Juliet to find the next act.

"One sec." Valkyrie said as she looked down at her phone that was vibrating on the desk with a caller ID that you couldn't read.

"Hey, Captain." Valkyrie answered. You looked her way and back at your book quickly. There was more than one Captain in the school.

"I'm in the library studying." She continued and paused for the other voice to speak. "It's not that bad, a pretty girl's teaching me Romeo and Juliet." Valkyrie winked at you and you smiled weakly back, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Fucking jocks and their shameless flirtation.

"Yeah I'll be done soon, see you then." She said and hung up the phone before turning back to you.

"Are there any quotes about boners?" The minutes after that went by painstakingly slowly. It was only a one off tutoring session that you would get an extra credit for, but you could think of a million things you would rather be doing with your lunch break.

Valkyrie nodded past you at someone at the library entrance. You turned around out of instinct and saw Carol strolling towards your table, eyes focused on you.

"Thanks for this." Valkyrie said as she packed away her things. "If I pass the exam I'm gonna have to find some way to make it up to you." She smirked as her eyes trailed over your legs.

You glanced at Carol who looked far from pleased at Valkyrie's comment and couldn't help but smile because that is exactly what she sounded like to you sometimes.

"That's okay." You muttered as you tried to avoid her gaze and put your books back in your bag.

"Alright, but I'm having a party this weekend. You should come."

"I'm not really a party person." You laughed awkwardly, wanting the encounter to be over.

"You don't have to spend long at the party itself." Valkyrie shrugged as she took a bold step towards you. "You could always stay in my room-"

"She said no." Carol cut in. Her eyes bore into Valkyrie's with a look that said the conversation was over. Her stance was firm and her jaw was tightly locked as she glared at her team mate. Valkyrie frowned and looked back at you as you fiddled with your bag zip and avoided her eye, silently thanking Carol even if she had been a tad aggressive.

"Right, sorry." Valkyrie muttered before making her way past you. Carol gave you a small smile before turning to leave with her team mate. You were sure Wanda would have something to say about that.

*

It was a few days until you saw Carol again. She had texted you to briefly say she had practice after school and you didn't see her at lunch breaks either. It annoyed you to admit you missed her company.

With every second you spent with the jock your crush on her grew. You knew that any longer and you may just end up head over heals for her which would only end in heart break for you. But every time you saw the wisp of blonde hair, shine of brown eyes with her confident smile or even just that god damn varsity jacket, you didn't care about how it could end.

It was a Thursday when she texted you during lunch to ask if you wanted to practice after school. You replied a little too eagerly with a yes and continued listening to Wanda rant about something dumb Pietro had done.

A few hours later you held a bat in your hands and prepared for Carol to throw the ball your way. She wasn't very talkative that day, a rarity for the blonde. You wanted to ask if something was up with her but the concentrated look on her face made you not want to disrupt her train of thought.

"I'm sorry." She said suddenly.

"That's alright." You sighed as you watched the ball roll across the field. That was a particularly fast throw.

"About snapping in the library." Carol corrected. "I didn't mean to make it awkward." She said as she scratched the back or her neck then stretched her arm to throw again.

"You didn't." You assured honestly. "I was already uncomfortable." You huffed as you missed another throw from Carol even after trying to apply all her tips.

"Val can be quite persistent." Carol said, still not showing her smile.

"Just like someone else I know." You shrugged. Carol faltered at the obvious call out.

"Lets switch." She said quietly and handed you her glove as she took the bat from you. She explained to you the basics of her own throwing techniques and had a few recommendations on what she thought might work best for you.

"If you ever told me no, I'd back off." Carol said as put the bat up. You were thrown off by the sudden shift in conversation.

"I know you would have." You hoped Carol noticed your use of past tense. You had already decided that sex with her again would be too dangerous for you. God only knows what you would end up blurting out. You cringed at the thought of confessing your love for Carol as she fucked you.

Your eyes shifted to the track team that were doing their laps around another part of the field. They made it look as easy as always.

"You got eyes for one of them, y/n?" Carol asked in a voice that seemed more curious than teasing.

"Not my type." You muttered as you threw the ball weakly again.

"What is your type?" Carol asked, unable to mask her curiosity that time.

"I don't know." You huffed. The blonde looked at you expectantly, clearly hoping for something more. "And what's your type, Danvers?" You asked, successfully shifting the conversation when you saw a glint in Carol's eyes. Her smile returned.

"Eh, about (your height), (your eye colour) eyes, terrible at sport but really cute so it's dorky." Carol shrugged. Damn, that could almost be me. You glanced up at the blonde to throw again and saw her smirking at you.

"Someone should warn her." You joked in a feeble attempt to hide your disappointment that we swelling in the pit of your stomach.

"I just did." Wait... Carol's smirk grew as she watched the realization spread across your face. You blushed deeply and tried to fight off a smile.

"I don't think baseball's working either." You muttered.

*

"You know it's strange, I always thought you were going to become a jock." Pietro said thoughtfully before taking a bite of his apple.

"First of all how dare you and secondly what the hell gave you that idea?" You exclaimed. Wanda was giggling besides you while Carol gave you a look of faux offence.

"That's the highest compliment!" She argued.

"I second that." Natasha nodded.

"Do you remember Wanda's 14th birthday party?" Pietro asked.

"It's a treasured memory." You grinned at Wanda. "I kicked your ass at bowling." You recalled proudly.

"You kicked everyone's ass at it. Bowling's a sport isn't it?" Apparently word had spread about Carol's private lessons. You and the blonde had spent weeks going back and forth between different sports. Overall, you were still pretty crap but you had been lifted to a passing grade in the class. You kept meaning to tell Carol that, but you didn't want the lessons to end. You concluded that as long as she didn't ask, you wouldn't tell.

"I'd say so." Wanda shrugged but Carol and Natasha clearly had different opinions.

"Fuck no!"

"Please do not align that with us!" They erupted. You and Wanda started to laugh at their outraged expression, never knowing something to piss a jock off more.

The sound of the bell overhead was followed by a few groans from those around the table as you all packed up and left the table. At least it was a Friday. You wandered across the field on your usual route of going round the main buildings to avoid the crowded corridors, lost in your thoughts until someone jogged up besides you.

"Bowling, huh?" She inquired as she slowed down to a walk.

"It's been years." You said offhandedly.

"You got plans tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"We should go bowling, if you want to. Obviously just as part of your lessons." Carol offered as she looked ahead.

"I thought you said it isn't a sport." You eyed the blonde suspiciously with a smile.

"It isn't, but this I have to see."

"Okay." You nodded without much thought. Bowling with the jock did sound fun.

"I'll pick you up at 2."

*

"These shoes are ridiculous." Carol grumbled.

"American football shoulder pads are ridiculous but you don't hear me calling that out." You fired back.

"Oh, so that was meant at someone else?"

"Sure." You shrugged as you smiled at Carol's brightly coloured shoes. You went onto your lane and gleamed at the nostalgic sound of pins being knocked over and the bright spot lights across the lanes.

Carol put your names into the scoreboard tablet as you ran your hands over the bowling balls and frowned slightly as you realized you still had to use one of the smaller ones.

"Experts first." Carol motioned to the beginning of the lane with a small smirk and you smiled back at her excitedly and grabbed a ball.

"Just remember it's been a while!" You called back to the eagerly watching blonde. She hummed back. You brought the ball up to your chest to have a feel of the weight and glared at the pins, there had to be something you could impress Carol with. With a deep breath, you swung your arm back and forward to let the ball go, center down the lane and colliding with the painted targets. All but one knocked over and you couldn't help but throw tour hands up in the air in triumph.

"That was pretty good!" You declared as you turned back to Carol happily. She beamed back at you, giving you a smile that made her eyes squint and look absolutely adorable.

You grabbed the second ball and rolled it smoothly across the polished floor, successfully hitting the last pin. Carol strolled up after you, her hands hovering over the range in front of her and landing on one for someone with a bigger hand. You scoffed quietly, not believing the jock could hold it but she picked it up with ease.

You stood, wide eyed, watched as she sauntered over to the lane and swung her arm. The ball veered off to the side and took down a couple of pins that Carol glared at.

"Unlucky is all." She grumbled as she went to get another ball. This time when she threw it it fell into the dip along the side, it was hard to hide your amusement.

"That's just bullshit." Carol grumbled.

"Do you want me to put the sides up for you, Danvers? Or maybe I could ask someone for that ramp." You teased. She flipped you off and went to sit on the small sofa and watched you carefully.

You knocked most of the pins over on your next few goes while Carol got very little. You tried to give her a few tips but apparently her ego was too big to accept them, which meant you were winning marginally.

You spun around to face the blonde after knocking the last of your pins over but she wasn't on her spot on the sofa. You were about to get your phone out to text her but you spotted her sauntering back towards your area with a bowl of nachos. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Carol gave a dramatic huff as she spotted the scoreboard and beckoned you over to the small table by the sofas. "We'll start a new round after these." She said as she put them on the table. "I didn't poison them." She quipped when you didn't move.

"Sometimes I think you'd do anything to win." You replied as you sat down opposite her and took one of the nachos. In all honesty you weren't expecting Carol to get the snack, never mind to want to share it.

Carol flexed her right hand absent mindedly as she glanced around at over areas of the alley. "Your hand hurting?" You asked as you took another nacho with a lot of cheese on it.

"A little." She shrugged and lifted it up to look at the back of her mind. Without thinking, you put your hand and pressed it gently flat against hers. Not only were her fingers longer than yours but her palm was bigger too, even her wrist was thicker. It was only when you caught Carol's eye that you went to bring your hand away but she laced her fingers through yours and put them down on the table.

"Sorry, I was just curious." You blushed even though it was clear Carol didn't mind.

"Okay." She chuckled as she continued on the nachos. You finished the rest of the snack in silence with your hands still together until you leaned back and glanced at the lane again.

"Ready to have your ass kicked again?" You quipped.

"Don't get cocky, kid." Carol mused as she rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Since when did you know Star Wars?" You asked in complete disbelief.

"I love Star Wars." Carol said casually. "And since always."

"I didn't take you for the type." You smiled as you tried to study the jock for any signs of a lie.

"That's just because you never asked." She shrugged and stood up, letting your hands slide apart. You missed the contact instantly but that didn't distract you enough from her words.

Of course you had never asked her something like that, Star Wars was the last thing you'd guess she would like. You knew there was always more to people than what they showered publicly, but Carol had always seemed like such an open book in every way. So hearing that she wasn't quite what you thought she was, even after the few months of knowing her better, simply made you impossibly more interested in the blonde. You stared at Carol in nothing short of awe, she was really something else.

"I've had enough of these shoes." She declared.

"You quitting on me Danvers?" You quipped but really your heart dropped at the thought she wanted to cut your outing short.

"I'm just thinking we could try our hand at a few other things, seeing as we're not doing sport anymore." She said as she nodded towards the arcade.

Your eyes lit up at all the games in the entrance as you found your competitiveness returning. You both returned your shoes and practically ran over to the arcade area with all its choices. You decided to head towards the air hockey first as you argued over whether or not it was a sport. Carol, of course, took the opposition.

Your reflexes weren't as good as hers but you liked to think you put up a good fight, even if you did curse under your breath every time the blonde scored. The screen above you both lit up to declare Carol's victory that she was very happy to celebrate, you watched as she danced around the table towards you in what could have been the dorkiest thing you had ever seen.

"You having fun there?" You laughed.

"So much fun." Carol grinned back and eyed her next target.

"Absolutely not!" You cried out when her eyes landed on the basketball. You took her by the hand and tried your best to ignore the electricity running up your arms at how perfectly her hand fit in yours and led her through the arcade. You came to a halt by a racing game and before you could even suggest the idea to Carol she was clambering into the seat and shoving the coins into the machine. You sat down next to her and did the same. You were both terrible. The controls were slightly broken and far too sensitive, making the cars on screen spin around when you tried to turn and never going straight.

"Piece of garbage!" Carol shouted at the screen as you passed the finish line by some miracle.

"Wanna go again?" You asked with a grin but the blonde was already jumping off the seat.

"Now this I have to win." Carol declared as she spotted the nearest shooting game. It was some kind of zombies in space crossover but you didn't much question that when you picked up the plastic gun.

"We work together on this, Danvers." You laughed.

"Count yourself lucky then." Carol said as she aimed her gun at the screen as the game started.

"The fact that you didn't know how it works doesn't make me all that confident in you." You pointed out as you started firing at the horde of zombies. You didn't see one that was charging at you from the left but Carol shot it down before it reached you.

"You're welcome." She smirked then shot some more on your right. "Come on, y/n I'm doing all the work here."

"Fuck yourself, Danvers." You fired back as you tried to reload your gun.

"Fuck me yourself you coward." She challenged. Your mouth went dry but you started to laugh. She didn't make the comment with her usual smirk and suggestive tone, instead it seemed like a genuine joke that you didn't get anxious about.

"That would be a first." You quipped with a smile. You managed to take the last few zombies.

"It really would be, I am a virgin after all." She said casually and you dropped your gun. "Oh shit, here we go!" Carol laughed as the zombie boss made its dramatic entrance.

"Wait what?" You stammered as you looked between Carol and the screen while trying to get a grip on the plastic gun.

"What? No one's ever fucked me. I fuck girls, they don't fuck me back." She shrugged simply and started rapid firing at the boss.

"Maybe you should stop being exclusive to pillow princesses." You joked in a feeble attempt to mask your surprise.

"Maybe, it's not just that." She started. It confused you that she could say something so out of character while keeping most of her attention on the screen. "I don't trust any of them. I don't know, it's just, when it comes down to it, I freak out." Carol tried to explain but seemed to struggle.

"Damn." She sighed when the screen presented 'Game Over' in an overtly bloody text. You wandered away from the booth as you thought about what Carol said. She had a content smile on her face as she looked around and you figured the conversation was over.

"I love these." You told the blonde when you came across a Wac A Mole machine. You put the coins in and lifted up the rubber mallet as you kept your eyes on the board. The first one sprung up in front of you and Carol announced its presence with a cry.

"Thank you, Danvers." You smiled after hitting the figure.

"There!" She pointed to the next one, and the next one until you shouldered her out the way, not expecting her to actual wander off. When the game was over you grinned in triumph and looked to Carol for her praise but she wasn't near by. With a frown, you ventured around the arcade and found the jock hunched over a claw machine.

"These things eat you money, you know?" You half joked but to your surprise Carol dropped a small teddy bear into the box.

"And how long did that take you?" You teased as she picked it up.

"Its for you." You ran your thumb over the left paw that had a heart over it and smiled back at the jock who kept surprising you.

"Thank you, Carol." She nodded and the pair of you started to walk out the arcade and main building. Much to your surprise it was starting to get dark and there were few cars in the car park. You guessed the place would be closing soon but you hadn't realized you had been there so long. Time always seemed to fly by with Carol.

"How long were we even..." You started to laugh lightly until you turned to Carol and realized how close together you were. Your breath hitched when your eyes locked with her own that seemed to be looking back at you with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Can I kiss you?" You whispered gently. You licked your lips and nodded slowly.

Her other hand rested on your cheek as her thumb caressed the smooth skin slightly and finally closed the distance entirely.

You had kissed Carol before, but never like that. It was slow and longing and gentle and you reciprocated in an instant, matching the rhythm she set. You brought you hands up to Carol's neck and cherished the moment of feeling connected to her in the way you had been craving before you pulled apart.

"It's only our second date, Danvers." You couldn't help but quip, not knowing what to say in such an unfamiliar scenario.

"Well this second date has taken a lot of work to get." Carol pointed out and you laughed as you continued to hold her close.

"I was scared." You admitted.

"You don't have to be scared with me." Carol assured gently.

"You mean it? You really..."

"I really love you." She confirmed.

"That's lucky for me, because I love you too." You smiled and brought Carol in for another kiss that she happily encouraged.

"So... more dates?" Carol asked with a laugh, clearly not all that familiar with the procedure either. You would work it out quickly.

"Yeah Carol." You chuckled.

"That I still have to work hard for?" She half joked.

"Not if we're girlfriends." The blonde laughed more at that.

"I'm glad to hear I've upgraded from just your favourite jock.

"You're always going to be my favourite jock too." You assured and kissed Carol once more.

*

Carol kissed a path down your stomach and smiled against your skin as she felt you shiver. Even after weeks of dating you still weren't used to her kisses, especially not across your more sensitive areas of skin.

"I got you." She whispered as she hooked her fingers over your pajama bottoms and panties and pulled them down together, kissing the newly found skin. You shivered more as her breath ghosted over your clit making you whine and buck your hips up. Carol smiled at your reaction and leaned down not before whispering "God, you're beautiful.

She wrapped her full lips around your clit and reveled in the moan that spilled from your lips. Her tongue dipped between your folds and she moaned at the sweet taste that invaded her taste buds.

You wrapped your hands in Carol's long blonde hair to bring her closer but she pulled away with a smirk. Before you could whine in protest she pulled her own trousers down to reveal a strap you hadn't seen before. It was different in shape and colour but the most noticeable different was the absence of the harness. You moaned softly at the realization it was anchored inside her.

"I want to feel it with you." Carol said as she lowered herself back towards you and placed her hands either side of your head and kissed your neck.

"Are you sure?" You asked tentatively. It would be the first time Carol had been on the receiving end to such a level. The most you had done was go down on her a few times.

"Yes, I trust you. I love you." She grinned and lined the strap up with your entrance.

"I love you too." You had really started to enjoy saying that to her.

You moaned breathlessly as Carol inched the strap into you carefully and kissed along your jaw more. She moaned with you when she bottomed out and felt the strap dig deeper into her. Her hips twitched as she took a moment to gather her own composure and held your hands above your head, your fingers intertwined.

"I got you." You assured back to her as she started to pull out and push back in. Carol moaned loudly in response and held you closer to her as she started to build up a rhythm, your thigh slapping together.

You moaned in sync as the strap pleasured you both more and more. You wrapped your legs tightly around your girlfriend's waist to push the strap deeper inside you both.

You shuddered every time Carol's skin met yours. Carol started thrusting the toy faster and harder as she chased her own release.

"It's so good!" You cried out. You both struggled to form words, only managing breathless moans as the strap pressed firmly against your g-spots in sync.

"Me too, fuck, please Carol. Cum with me." You pleaded and gave a strangled moan. Carol shuddered and moaned louder than you had ever heard as she came undone at the same time as you.

"Y/n." Your girlfriend shuddered and started to grind her hips against yours as she rode out her high with you.

"It's okay, I got you." You said as you held onto Carol's bare back. You held her close to you as she breathed heavily against your neck, the irregular patterns starting to even out. She was still shaking so you planted soft kissed across the patches of her face that weren't hidden in your neck as you stroked her hair, a content smile on your lips.

She adjusted herself slightly and the pair of you moaned softly when she eased the toy out and put it on the floor. "I'll clean it later." She whispered, eyes closed, before you could say anything.

"Okay." You chuckled and brought her closer to you. You wrapped your arms around one another as your legs tangled together under the sheets.

Carol's soft breath caressed your skin as you stroked her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. A faint smile played across her lips at the action, confirming that she was just as happy as you were.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @firenrain13 @horcruxhunter90 @wndrcarol

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#carol danvers #captain marvel #brie larson #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagines #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers x reader #marvel #jock!carol

[proserpina-magnus]

Hiiiiii could I request a Marauders x reader… platonic. Where they are just coaxing her through a bad day/migraine?

Hii! there isn't that much comforting other then them being clingy and sorta protective, but I still hope you like!!

The Marauders When You Have A Migraine

Word count; 1.8k

[ Warning: fem reader, doodles, eating, migraines/description of headaches, swearing, Sirius refers to you as “their baby” ]

Quick note, there’s a scene where the boys draw on the reader with a marker. I didn’t specify what colour the marker was, so depending on your skin colour you can interrupt the colour as you wish.

You slumped at the Gryffindor dining table, hair matted in a low messy hairstyle. You didn't even try and brush it out, you woke up and left it how it was. You couldn't even bring yourself to dress in new fresh clothing, you wore what you slept in.

Eyeing the breakfast options, you felt a pain tingle through your head. The nerves bunching and squeezing together to make it unbearable to concentrate.

" [ name ]! We have class in 15 minutes and you're not even dressed!" James bellowed from across the table, you pushed your shoes against the floor and slumped. Remus gave a confused look, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between Peter and Sirius.

"Come on, we have time to get some food in 'ya," Sirius declared, pushing toast onto your plate. The curly raven haired male even buttered your toast just the way you liked, even filling your glass with fresh squeezed orange juice.

"How 'ya feel-in?" Peter pronounced through mouthfuls of food, James swatting the blonds head in retaliation. "Wormy, don't speak with your mouth full,"

Sirius cackled from beside you, Peter stomped his foot onto Sirius in response. Sirius made a dramatic scene, falling towards the cold stone floor as he held his foot with forced shaky breaths. "My foot! My foot! I've been assaulted!" He whined, rolling from side to side.

Remus lets out a loud sigh from beside you, your head buzzing from the noise of ongoing chatter. You could hear James laugh loudly, like he always does. Usually his laugh was contagious, but it was incredibly annoying at the moment. Along with snickers and loud whines, you gripped your cup and brought it to your lips. Peter swallowed, reaching for another pancake as he watched you take long sips.

" ya never answered my question," Peter rambled before taking a gracious bite. You shrugged, Sirius sliding back into his seat. The boys all looked towards you, your fork picking at the blueberries Sirius pushed onto your plate moments prior.

"Another headache?" James asked, cleaning his pants from crumbs as he pushed his finished plate aside. You nodded briefly, a plain expression adorned on your features. Another hot buzz dangled in your mind, your forehead throbbing along with it.

"Maybe we should take you to madam Pomfry, you shouldn't be getting them this often," Remus responded. Sirius made a pouting face, before he took you into his arms.

"Our baby is hurt!" Sirius exaggerated loudly, causing staring eyes to look towards the group of friends. You flushed a bit, embarrassed by Sirius nature. You pushed him away, going back to picking at your food.

"I ain't nobody's baby," you said while pushing Sirius further away, James and Peter sniggered as Sirius made puppy dog eyes. You rolled your eyes, a bit grumpy from the constant throbbing.

"Bloody hell, it fucking hurts. It's not even bad, it's just the constant throbbing is pissing me off," you complained, shoving the piece of toast in your mouth. You watched as students finished eating, occasionally leaving for their first class of the day.

The boys all exchanged looks, Remus placing a hand on your back to give it a gentle rub. You push your plate back, your arms coming on the table as you rest in them.

As more students leave, professor Mcgonagall makes her way over to your rambunctious group. She softens at the scene, seeing the four boys rub your shoulder or arms to try and give their sympathy.

You sigh as you hear her shoes click with the ground, professor Mcgonagall stands a few inches away from you all. She clears her throat, all eyes directing towards her except for you.

"Class is about to start... is there a problem with miss [ last name ]?" The older woman asked, trying to mask her worry. Remus had explained earlier to her that you had been having numerous migraines.

"She's having another headache Minnie, our baby is dying!" Sirius exclaimed, Remus reaching over to swat him away from you with an annoyed look plastered on his face. Even though you couldn't see Sirius, you laughed as you thought about his whining face.

Professor Mcgonagall clasped her tongue, about to tell off Sirius for the nickname he'd given her. But instead, she placed her attention on you.

"I'll take her to the infirmary, surely madam Pomfrey has a potion to help," she explained, the boys all standing together in the same motion. You still kept your head pressed into your forehead.

"Can we go with her?" James whispered, hoping that they could be with you. They all hated when you were in pain, it felt like they had to protect you. You were their bestfriend, they surely couldn't let a thing ever bug you unless it was them.

"I'm sorry Potter, but you have class," Professor McGonagall frowned, the boys were about to protest to stay with you. But Minnie quickly shut them down, her hand raising as all the boys shut their jaws closed.

"It's alright, I'll see you later," you told them, raising with a throb as you walked with them all towards the doors. You parted way painfully, Sirius almost crying as he clung onto your leg. The rest of the boys watched, even James tearing up. He took his round spectacles off, dabbing his eyes with a spare cloth he had in his pocket.

"You can't be serious," you retorted at them, an annoyed look on your face as Minnie checked her watch with frowned eyes.

"Well... technically," Sirius began, but he couldn't finish his sentence as you kicked him off of you. You were upset, tired, and in pain. As much as you loved them, they were too much sometimes.

"Just go, I'll see you later," you tried to cover up your annoyed state, but the boys picked up on it. Sirius straightened up, fixing his shirt as they left with their heads down casted towards the ground.

"Idiots they are," you told Professor McGonagall, she only laughed and led you towards the infirmary.

—-

After a few missed classes, it was finally lunch. All the boys scrambled to the dining hall, shoving foods on plates. They ignored the stares, jogging up to the infirmary where you slept.

With the creak of the door, Sirius and James peaked inside. They saw no one, only a lump on the farthest bed. They all skipped over to you with slow whispers, trying to make sure you won’t wake up. Sirius pushed the blanket of your face, all of them relieved to see you still asleep.

“Prongs, do you have a spare marker on you?” Sirius asked, a growing smirk on his face. James put down the plate on a nearby table, fishing through his pockets to try and find a marker.

“Pads, no,” Remus said sternly, knowing what the raven haired male would do. Peter looked between the three boys, a bit unsure of what Sirius was going to do. The blonde boy put his plate near James, picking up half a sandwich as he sat near your feet.

“Pads yes,” Sirius smiled widely, James passing him the thick inked marker. Remus rolled his eyes, not stopping Sirius from his antics. Sirius crawled on the bed, an evil smile on his features as he unclasped the marker. He wrote “baby” with big thick letters on your forehead, giggling when you twitched and tried to swat his hand away in your sleeping state.

“Give me the marker,” James whispers, not waiting for Sirius to pass him it as he snatched it for himself. The bispecticle male drew 4 happy stick figures and a rat on your cheek, his tongue poked out in concentration.

“Why am I the only one in my amingi form?” Peter asked, frowning as James passed him the marker. He began to draw a small smiley face in your open palm, writing a messy “Peter was here” on your arm.

“Because, there wasn’t enough room and plus, you’re cuter in rat form,” James teased, but his words sounded very sweet so Peter took it as a compliment. Sirius and Remus cackled loudly, making you stir awake. Your eyes fluttered open, looking around between the boys above you.

“Uh… hello?” You greeted, stretching slightly as you looked around the empty room. Sirius pushed Peter and James away from the bed, sprawling his limbs out to hog you from their affection.

“Hi!” They all chanted at once, Remus moving closer as he pushed at Sirius to make room. The tall male sat down, rummaging through his bag for a minute before pulling out a chocolate bar.

“Eat,” Remus said, even opening the wrapper for you. He broke off a piece, swatting Sirius's wandering hand when he tried to take a piece for himself. You sat up on the bed, unaware of the markings on your skin. You chewed the gooey chocolate, resting against the bed frame with a satisfied hum.

“Did you bring me food?” You asked, a smile on your face as you realized all the plates. The boys nodded, bringing the plates over for you all to feast upon.

“What’s so funny?” You asked when Sirius started to laugh, James also chuckling. You irked slightly, touching over your face to try and see if there were crumbs. This made the boys laugh harder, making you feel embarrassed as you choke out a “what? Is there something on my face?”

You notice the little doodle Peter left you, realizing what had happened. You pushed Sirius's head, making him bump into James. You laughed at the scene, both boys rubbing their forehead with a pouty face.

“Does it come off?” You asked Remus, a sigh on your lips as you ran off towards the bathroom.

“Nope,” he called out, a small smile on his face. You looked in the mirror, seeing the obvious doodles drawn by your boys. You knew exactly who the culprit was for the big letters written on your forehead.

“Sirius! What the hell is this?” You called, stomping back to the bed where they all sat. Sirius raises his hands, pointing to James and Peter. “It’s not just me! They did it as well!”

“You bitch,” James gasped, a hand on his heart as he held a dramatic glint in his eyes. Peter dropped his head, muttering his apologies. All the boys start to bicker at Sirius, calling him a tattletale. You smile and lean back against the bed, bringing a biscuit to your mouth as you watch the quarrel unfold, this was definitely the entertainment you needed on this shitty day.

#marauders fandom #marauder x you #marauders x reader #young marauders #marauders fluff #marauders fic #the marauders era #james potter blurb #marauders blurb #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #young sirius black #young remus lupin #young peter pettigrew #sirius black x fem!reader #remus lupin x reader fluff #sirius black x reader #young peter pettigrew x you #james potter x you #young sirius black x reader #young remus lupin x reader #mama mcgonagall #madam pomfrey

[badboyjuyeon]

mind reader

Pairing: Chanhee x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: “One day in class you decide to scream something in your head to catch mind readers. As you do you see your crush flinch.” 

prompt credits to writing.prompt.s

Eyes glued to the clock, you counted down the seconds before class would start. 

It’s not that you particularly enjoyed English or any of the books you were discussing. Your teacher constantly droned on and on and, with practice, you had finally mastered the art of tuning his voice out. 

So it wasn’t exactly the class that you looked forward to, but a special person within that class.

And that person was Choi Chanhee, who had just entered with his bag slung lazily across his shoulder. Though his hair was ruffled and he was sweaty from gym class, he still looked as radiant as ever. He flashed his signature smile, the one that melted your heart, and waved at Changmin who had saved a seat for him.

Pretty people “herd” together, so it’s not a surprise that he often hung out with Younghoon, Sunwoo, and Changmin, the other popular boys that stole the hearts of every person in the school, including yours. You accepted that this crush would not go far because of his popularity, and you were perfectly content with just enjoying his presence. 

Before seeing him fifth-period four days of the week, you had only ever seen him in the hallways. You never had any real reason to talk to him, and given the chance, you’re not sure you would even try to hold a conversation with him. You know you would just become a stuttering mess and embarrass yourself. So instead of making any real efforts to do something about your crush, you just made sure to come to class a few minutes early so you could secure the seat that gave you the best view of him. 

Your English class was currently doing student-led discussions and your teacher claimed arranging the seats in a circle would help the students interact more with each other. You hated student discussions but had no complaints sitting in a circle, as it allowed you the perfect excuse to steal glances at Chanhee from any angle. 

Currently seated within the circle that seemed more like an oval, all of the students tried their hardest not to unintentionally make eye contact with the person sitting across from them. Your teacher introduced the topic the class would be discussing and you doodled at the corner of your page, letting your hand move on its own accord. Your doodles often reflected whatever you were thinking of, so your page was filled with drawings of the pink-haired boy you were currently infatuated with. 

The person sitting next to you spoke up, reminding you that you were still in class and needed to contribute to the discussion. 

You spoke once to satisfy the participation requirements and tried to ignore the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. That feeling was 10 times worse knowing that Chanhee was one of the people that was looking straight at you. You avoided looking in his direction, knowing that you would completely freeze up at the mere thought of him. His eyes were finally off of you when you finished speaking, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing. It would take another five minutes before your heart would return to its normal pace. 

Having participated, you were now free to be alone with your thoughts. 

Running out of creativity to doodle, you decided that you would play a game with yourself to pass the time. This game never failed to amuse you during all of the boring classes you’ve taken. You scanned the room to see what some of your peers were doing. Younghoon was currently speaking, Chanhee was dozing off into space, the girl from your biology class was very clearly trying to flirt with Sunwoo, who was ignoring her. 

You decided that Sunwoo would be the first person you tested. This game consisted of you trying to find out if anyone in the room could read your mind. 

Sunwoo if you can hear me, write down something in your notebook. 

You took notice of Sunwoo’s immediate actions, which would prove if he could listen to your thoughts. 

He picked up his pen. 

Your eyes widened as you waited to see what he would do next. 

He started fiddling with the pen mid-air, and it never ended up touching the paper. 

Sunwoo was not in fact a mind reader. You moved on to your next test subject. 

You shifted your undivided attention towards Younghoon, who had just finished speaking. He was staring at his notebook, the corner of the page curling underneath his fingers. 

If you can hear my thoughts, look at me within the next three seconds. 

You counted down and waited to see if he would prove himself to be a mind reader. Younghoon raised his head and his eyes scanned the circle. 

You sat up in your chair as you waited to see if he had heard you. 

Unfortunately, his eyes did not land on you as he chose to focus on the classmate that was currently speaking.

You slumped back down into your chair. This game was not as fun as it used to be. Either no one was a mind reader or they were too good at pretending not to hear you. 

I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME AND I’LL CATCH YOU. 

You screamed in your thoughts, looking around to see if anyone noticed. 

Chanhee, who was still staring into space, suddenly flinched. 

What the f-

And then Chanhee’s eyes met yours. 

You immediately shifted your gaze to focus on the notebook on your lap. He never looked at you if you weren’t speaking, the timing was all too suspicious. You made sure not to look up from your notebook for the rest of class or think about him, just in case.  

After the teacher dismissed the class, you hurriedly packed up your belongings and rushed out of class. But your shoelaces did not cooperate, and you knelt down to tie them. You heard a soft voice call your name from behind you. A voice that you knew all too well. 

Why was Chanhee trying to talk to you, today of all days? 

There was only one answer. Chanhee was actually a mind reader and he knew about your crush. He was coming to confront you. You quickly shoved your shoelaces in your shoe and ran out the school building, not looking back. 

Chanhee watched as you dashed out the school doors, the notebook that had fallen out of your backpack in his hands. He was sure he called your name loud enough but he reasoned that you probably hadn’t heard him with how hectic the hallway was. He placed your notebook in his locker and reminded himself to give it to you before the next class. 

You slammed your locker shut, startling the student next to you. You lost your notebook for English class that you’ve reused since freshman year. Sighing, you headed into English class with a substitute notebook and the motive to pay attention, since you didn’t have any of your notes. You searched for the one person that could instantly lift your spirits. 

“Chanhee?” Your teacher called out during attendance, waiting for his response. 

You quickly glanced around the room to see where Chanhee was seated, but to your dismay, he was nowhere to be found. 

On the bright side, you could think about Chanhee all you wanted without worrying about whether he could hear your thoughts. You breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in your chair. 

“Present.” 

Hearing the familiar voice, you looked up to see Chanhee standing in the doorway, out of breath, as he rushed towards his seat. You dared not to make eye contact with him again.

You wondered why he stopped to call your name after the last time you had class. There was a chance that he wasn’t actually calling your name and that you might have just imagined it. 

But you were quick to dismiss the theory that it was all in your imagination when Chanhee called out to you again after class. The hallway was rather empty and you couldn’t use the chaos as an excuse to avoid him. You nervously turned around to face him. This was technically the first time you spoke to him. 

“Hi, (y,n) right? Is this your notebook?” He held out a notebook that looked a little too similar to your missing English notebook. “I think you dropped it after class yesterday.” 

You took the notebook from him and sure enough, it was yours. Finding your lost notebook should have filled you with satisfaction, but that was the last thing you were feeling. The doodles of him scattered throughout the pages flashed in your mind. You immediately snapped the notebook shut. 

“Thank you so much.” You managed to say, hoping that he hadn’t flipped through the notebook. 

He gave you a small smile, unaware of your internal panic. “No problem.” 

Not knowing whether to continue the conversation or not, you also smiled, before turning to walk away. 

“Oh, and by the way, I know what you’re thinking...” 

What- there’s no way. How would he know what I was thinking? Oh my god. Is he an actual mind re-

You stopped in your tracks, grateful that you were turned around so he couldn’t see the sheer look of horror on your face. 

You faced him and prepared yourself for what he would say next. 

“...You’re probably wondering how I knew it was your notebook.” He looked down at your notebook, which you held protectively against your chest. 

Not expecting the words that came out of his mouth, you giggled. The question hadn’t actually crossed your mind, so it was good to know that he was NOT an actual mind reader. Your name was not on the cover, so it was a valid question to wonder. 

“I wasn’t wondering but, now that you mention it, how did you know?“

“I recognized your art style from the doodles on the cover. You’re really talented.” He continued to speak comfortably as if you had known each other for years. Your art teacher often hung up your drawings in the art classroom for everyone to see, but you were surprised that he had recognized your art style. 

“Thanks, that means a lot to me.” You finally found the courage to hold eye contact with him. You were confused as to why he kept continuing this conversation when it could have ended much earlier with little-to-no words involved. 

The corner of his lips lifted into a smirk and a mischievous spark glinted in his eyes. He cleared his throat, “I like my eggs scrambled in the morning...if you were still wondering.” 

Eggs scrambled in the morning?

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you tried to remember why that expression sounded so familiar. Or why he claimed you would be wondering that. 

Chanhee bit back a smile, as he saw your expression change from confused to panicked in a matter of seconds. Your cheeks turned as pink as his hair. 

You were just joking when you claimed that Chanhee was a mind reader, but now you were starting to think that it wasn’t a joke anymore. How do you like your eggs in the morning? That sounds exactly like something you would think.

 “What...how did you...“ You struggled to form a coherent sentence. 

Instead of answering, he just shrugged and backed away, before heading to his next class. He left you standing in the middle of the hallway unsure of what to believe.  

Remembering the notebook that was still pressed against your chest, suddenly it clicked. He had seen the last page of your notebook. 

The last page was where you wrote absolute nonsense to relieve your boredom during class. You used to write notes back and forth with your best friend back in freshman year. She would talk about her crush on Changmin and you would talk about yours on Chanhee. 

That means he read all about your crush on him. Of all the ways you imagined him finding out, this was the last and most embarrassing way ever. There was no way to save yourself in this situation. 

chanhee is so gorgeous

changmin is SO FINE 

i wonder how chanhee likes his eggs in the morning 

i want changmin’s number so bad

You cursed your younger, boy-obsessed self for setting you up like this. You groaned, any chance you had with Chanhee was officially out the window. 

Rereading the page, you noticed that there was a new addition to your conversation with your friend. The unfamiliar handwriting did not match yours or your best friend’s, and the ink seemed to be fresh. 

idk about changmin’s but i can give you mine: XXX-XXX-XXXX

p.s. i want you to draw me like one of your french girls

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[thetriggeredhappy]

in the dadspy au, what if jeremy was just going to be an assistant/cook/janitor at the base while his dad was being the mercenary (since spy didnt want him to follow the "career" but didnt want to be separated from him), but then jeremy turned out to be even better than the hired scout so they promote him to that position and spy is not happy with this at all

ok i was gonna put this in the queue to post but im impatient because im happy with this one. only thing i didnt have was spy being upset by this development

(warnings for canon-typical violence, discussion of mercenary-type things, paranoia, alcohol, and exactly one proper fight scene. consider this pg-13)

-

“Would you prefer the good news first, or the bad news?” Dad asked.

Jeremy looked up at him from where he’d snatched up the sunday comics from his dad’s newspaper and was doodling little hats on the characters while they waited for their food to arrive. “Uh,” he said, “good news first.”

“Alright. The good news is, do you remember that line I’ve been tailing? The one in New Mexico?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, then nodded a little more confidently. “Immunity, safehouse, somethin’ like that, right?”

“...Something like that,” Dad agreed carefully, and that made him raise an eyebrow. “It went well, and I think there’s the very real possibility that I’ve all but closed the deal, all they want now is an interview.”

“...Interview, singular,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That’s where the bad news begins. Unfortunately... merde, how to phrase this?” He drew a hand down his face. “They’re fully willing to hire me on, but this is a more... corporate affair than I’m used to. They have rules, stipulations. Long story short, they will not hire you as a mercenary on the basis of your age.”

Jeremy tensed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s stupid, I’m old enough to drive and buy guns and whatever the hell else.”

“But not rent a car, at least in many places in the United States.”

“But—“ he started, and remembered they were in public, and lowered his voice to a hiss, leaning in. “We’re hired killers, thieves, criminals. Do they really think we’re above having fakes? False documentation?”

“Actually, that is one of their requirements,” Dad said dryly, taking a paper from his jacket and consulting it. “I’m not happy about it either, mon lapin, but those are their rules. Already they have slightly bent them for one individual, and already I am on thin ice. But I may have a way to manage this.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked, nervous now.

“I know the woman responsible for new hires and managing the team I’ve applied for. She owes me a favor—a fairly hefty one. When I go in for the interview, one of my demands will include you being hired on, not as a mercenary, but for... for custodial purposes, something like that. Cook, janitor, security guard, secretary—whatever job there is that needs doing there, and I am sure that there will be one. Something to allow you to live there. Pay will likely be her stipulation, and the play I hope to make is that really, you’re overqualified for the position and she’s lucky to have someone so competent available, and in the worst case scenario, the pay is still good enough even for just one of us that we will not cut too deeply into the savings.”

The savings. That made Scout blink, because they only ever brought up the savings when—

“You think this could be it?” he asked quietly. “Like, it it?”

A hard exhale, and he leaned his cheek on his hand. “Potentially,” he finally said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the job promises a variety of things. Medical attention available, extremely low levels of danger, and most of all, confidentiality. The only people who will know any name we give them would be the woman in charge of hiring us and their singular medical professional. There is no mode of communication to or from the compound outside of emergency lines to the organization and a single secure payphone located two miles away, there is no civilization within a twenty-five minute drive minimum, and this operation has been going long enough that the local authorities have long since grown used to being paid off, and likely don’t even remember what for anymore. I cash in a few valuable favors and ask this employer to turn a blind eye, we’d have somewhere remote and secure to spend our time after our deaths are faked and once the contract is over, we can start over. No ties to the past.”

“Freedom,” Jeremy marveled.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the quiet chatter of the rest of the diner. “I want to warn you, this work may not be glamorous. It may not even be particularly easy. I’m giving you the option of saying no,” Dad said.

“What?! Yes, hell yes, are you joking? To get us to living like normal people? Steady work? Livin’ in one place? Count me in!” he laughed.

“What if the job is something you won’t enjoy? Long hours, boring work?” Dad asked, entirely serious.

“I’m still on board.”

“What if the other people working there are rude to you? Disrespectful?”

“Well most of the people I meet through our job now try to kill us, so really it’s an upgrade.”

“What if there’s no diner nearby?” he asked, and there was a glint of humor in his eye.

“Damn, sorry, that’s the dealbreaker,” he joked right back, and that made him snort, shake his head, greet the waitress as she came back with their coffee and soda and then informed them that their food would be out shortly.

“I’ll ask,” was what Dad said once she was gone again, and that was that, and they started driving to New Mexico two nights later.

-

“—A warm welcome to our two newest recruits. This is the Spy, and this is the Guard.”

“Guard?” asked one of the men at the table, his accent thick and distinctly Russian. It made Jeremy tense slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

“Night Guard,” Jeremy answered, voice clipped.

“He’s not technically hired on as a mercenary like you all, he won’t be joining you on missions,” the short woman apparently named Miss Pauling (Jeremy was fairly sure it was a fake name) said, hands folded in front of her neatly. “He’s here to work security. Keep an eye out during the night, filter through the camera footage, handle the archiving, things like that.”

“We’re hiring on a civvie now?” asked another man, thick Scottish accent a little harder to digest than the eyepatch and the grenade he was in the process of fiddling with the internal mechanisms of.

“He’s combat ready, and will still be armed. His job is to essentially make sure you’re all safe enough to sleep through the night,” Miss Pauling said.

“I’m not some chump,” Jeremy agreed. “I know my stuff.”

“How old is he?” another man asked, this one in a hardhat with a heavy drawl, looking concerned.

“Twenty, for your information,” Jeremy said, a little sharply, eyes narrowed.

“If you have any other questions, there’ll be time later on. For now, I do need to show our two newest recruits where they’ll be staying,” Miss Pauling cut in.

There was an audible scoff from one of the men at the table, a dramatic rolling of eyes. Jeremy glared at him. He unfolded and refolded his extremely tattoo’d tree-trunk-like arms, tugging the visor of his hat between. “Sorry,” he said, accent thick and distinctly Californian. “I just don’t have the most trust for some scrawny kid in slacks and creep in a ski mask.”

“Scout, don’t start,” Miss Pauling warned.

“Just saying,” this man, apparently called Scout, muttered under his breath regardless.

“Don’t,” she said again, more firmly, and ignored the second eye roll she got for the trouble. “If you two would follow me.”

And they were shown around the base, and Jeremy in particular was shown into a room stuck behind three locked doors, where he found camera feeds and recording equipment. She gave him a basic overview and a thick packet of instructions and policies labelled ‘highly classified’ and a phone number to call if he had any further questions, and a set of hours that were apparently meant to become the new standard for him (with the quiet addendum that if he finished early that was alright, and that technically he could turn in early if two or more members of the team were already awake for the day and he was caught up on the archiving of old tapes).

Then he was left to “get used to the equipment”, which he assumed meant his dad was getting a similar rundown of his job, and it took a pretty quick glance through the packet to understand that clearly this place ran on an extremely secretive and closely monitored series of systems. In the packet, between the sections on camera maintenance and operation hours, were a few sheets detailing what were apparently the movement patterns of the various members of the team, including frequented locations and previously recorded large-scale infractions (mostly on the part of the Soldier, the Medic, the Scout, and one from the Demoman).

He wasn’t the one with the title Spy, but fuck, it seemed like he might as well have it. His entire job wasn’t even necessarily to keep the team safe overnight—he was just meant to watch all of them to make sure nobody was anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary.

The next time he saw his dad, waiting outside the infirmary to get some sort of physical evaluation, his face was arranged carefully enough that he could tell he’d figured out something was up, too.

“Got your job assignments?” he asked quietly in French, glancing towards the door into the infirmary.

A nod, a glance. “I’m intrigued by the methods used in employee evaluation,” he deadpanned. “Especially the fact that apparently, they’re willing to assign employees for the explicit task of doing them.”

“How often?”

“Weekly.”

“Thorough,” Jeremy deadpanned, and glanced towards the hall at the distant sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere else on the base. “That’s basically mine too.”

There was a long silence, and when Jeremy looked back over, his dad was giving him an almost expectant look, waiting. All he had to offer him was a shrug, which was returned after a moment with a vague shake of the head. “I don’t believe it will be a problem,” his dad said simply. “Not for us, at the very least.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Uh, anyways, good luck with the… physical, or whatever,” he said, and received a pat on the shoulder before he walked back off down the hall, hoping to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with an entire room all to himself. He’d almost never had one before.

-

He was used to time changes and jet lag, to needing to switch his sleep schedule on the regular, but the switch to a straight up night shift was a rough one.

His nine-to-five was actually a ten-to-six, as in 10 PM through 6 AM. This meant that, assuming he managed to get his schedule in order, he’d be able to join in on the team dinners if he woke up early and could eat breakfast with them before he went to bed.

Very quickly he realized that going to dinner and breakfast with the team was going to become a staple part of his routine, because it didn’t take long before he began to feel extremely lonely all of the time. In a dark little room, everyone else asleep, scrubbing through tapes from during the day while half keeping an eye on the live feed from around the base that never showed much of anything, it was brutal. It was suffocating.

It was easy, at least. It didn’t take long before he got efficient at it and could start zoning out, and it wasn’t like he was under much pressure. His was the only room without any cameras in it. Security risk, apparently. 
And to be honest, what small amount he and Dad interacted with mercenaries and other criminal types, Jeremy didn’t really tend to like them much. A lot of them were loud and rude and had the potential to turn around and try and kill them whenever they felt like it. He didn’t expect that he’d like the team as much as he did. He especially didn’t expect to like them so much without ever really talking to them.

But watching the camera feeds from throughout the day, seeing what they were up to, they were just... nice people. Soldier out by the dumpsters practicing rocket jumps and wrangling raccoons and apparently trying to learn how to spin a rifle, Pyro’s regular minor explosions in the kitchen while cooking and the surprised and frantic way they cleaned it up every time, the Demoman’s tendency to whistle wherever he went, watching through the feed as they all played cards and argued and jostled each other. They all seemed really nice. Really cool. Really dorky, too, but mostly just really nice and really cool.

And there were a few of them he was less sure about—he couldn’t get eyes on the Medic most of the time, what with the one camera in the Medbay being tilted down at an angle that made it hard to see much of anything but the occasional bird (probably by those same birds). The Heavy tended to just sit and read, and was pretty much silent most of the time otherwise. The Scout tended to leave the base pretty often. And the Sniper didn’t even live on base, he had a van outside that he could only occasionally see movement in when he squinted at the far edge of the camera leading outside. But even then, Heavy and Sniper mostly just seemed quiet, and Medic just seemed busy, and the Scout just seemed like a little bit of a dickhead.

But then one day when Jeremy was at breakfast the Heavy caught him leaning to try to get a look at the cover of the book he was reading, and he blurted that he was just wondering what book was so great that he’d stay up until like four in the morning reading, and then the entire team was gawking at him and asking questions and insisting that it was insane that there was someone actually watching all those cameras, and he shrugged and said there was always supposed to be someone watching the tapes back it was just usually some office worker type a hundred miles away. And they seemed almost... upset with him. And maybe that was fair, it wasn’t like he ever talked to any of them much, mostly he just spent breakfast and dinner half-asleep and listening to their chatter. And Demoman admitted that he’d honestly assumed that Jeremy slept his entire shift, he just always looked so tired at breakfast. There was almost this discomfort. This distrust.

And so, now that the jig was up, he made it a point to say some things to certain members of the team. To tell the Medic that his camera was tilted down so that he couldn’t see most of the room, and to very pointedly say that it was weird how that happened and that he didn’t know why they set it up like that in the first place, but it was really none of his business. Made it a point to warn the Engineer in the morning that the previous night, Soldier had been doing something in the fridge for a while, and to maybe check the labels before he made breakfast. Made it a point to tell the Demoman that the camera in his workshop was right in plain sight, and that if he moved one of his blackboards an inch or two to the left, it would obscure the room a pretty hefty amount. Made it a point to tell the Sniper that the camera on the rooftop seemed to be glitching out, and it’d just sort of lost the tapes of the previous two nights, and that it was really unfortunate since for all he knew there might have been someone ignoring the signs about there being no personnel allowed up there.

In return, he found that Pyro would sometimes make little sparkly notes with smiley faces on them and stick them to the door to the security room. That Sniper started tipping his hat at the camera above the door into the base from the garage. That on occasional drinking nights, the team would suddenly turn and start waving at the camera, laughing the whole way. On one night in particular he could hear through the low-quality and tinny speakers that they were trying to cajole him into leaving the security room for a while to join them for cards, and god, but he wanted to.

And he noticed more things. Soldier walking with a slight limp some days when rocket jumps had rough landings. Being able to count the doves in the infirmary and even tell them apart to some extent through blurry close-ups. The Engineer making it a point to sweep really regularly regardless of what project he was working on.

And then he noticed a weird thing.

It took him a long time to get used to the patterns of hallways, the cameras not really lined up linearly after a while, too many branching paths. He learned to follow progress, to flick from one camera to the next as someone walked around corners. And for a while he thought maybe he wasn’t very good at it.

Until he realized two things. First of all, that in a hallway where he knew there were five doors, he could only see four—apparently the door to Pyro’s room was just barely out of sight of the camera. He only figured it out because one day it swung open wide enough to almost bang against the wall.

And then, when he realized there was somehow that massive blindspot, that there was a corner with a blindspot too. One where that Scout kept disappearing.

He watched a few more times to make sure, and yep. He’d see the Engineer walking around the corner, flick to the next screen, and there he was, continuing down the hallway. And then later that same day, the Scout, walking, and flick to the next camera, and he wasn’t there.

One of the worse parts of the job was that he never got to see Dad anymore, never got to just sort of hang out the way they did all the time when he was growing up, and he knew he would miss it but he didn’t know how much. And he found it was even worse when he had something important to say, doubly so when he had something important to say but no idea if it was actually important.

He tried to bring it up casually, in the like ten minutes of time he ever got alone to talk to Dad. Dad was fighting the kettle trying to make some tea and he was trying to stay awake long enough to figure out how he was going to say this.

“Uh,” he said, and Dad looked at him. “So, uh, what’s the read you’re getting on that Scout guy?”

“Lazy,” Dad shrugged, looked back at the kettle. “Arrogant. He seems to care very little about doing his job correctly and has horrible communication on the field.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, fought a yawn down. “Uh. So like, kind of a dickhead.”

“Indeed,” Dad said, nodding vaguely.

“So uhhh... not the best.”

“Where are you going with this?” Dad asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I, I dunno, the guy just likes hanging out in this one blindspot in the cameras, and it’s kinda freaking me out,” Jeremy said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Dad frowned. “Strange. I wasn’t aware that there were any blindspots in the cameras.”

“There’s only a few, and only for pretty small spaces I think? But apparently he just likes hanging out in one of them.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, glancing over as voices started echoing down the hall towards them. “Just thought it was weird.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dad muttered, voice quiet, and then raised it again slightly. “I refuse to keep up with sports.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said, knowing this game well, changing subjects into something more normal as people entered earshot. “I’m not even asking you to keep up with sports, I’m just saying, I’d kill to go to a baseball game right about now.”

“The American Pasttime!” Soldier called from the room over.

“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed, nodding at Soldier as he also entered the kitchen, a half-asleep Demoman in tow.

“Any ghosties or ghoulies on the cameras last night, lad?” Demo had enough energy to ask, blinking blearily at the contents of the fridge.

“Oh, a billion,” Jeremy said.

“Guard!” Soldier barked, the most awake person in the room. “Should these ghost-ghouls appear again, don’t be afraid to point me in their direction! I have significant experience with them already and do not fear the likes of them!”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shrugged.

“You’re a champion, Guard,” Demo said with what was either a really disoriented blink or a wink, slugging him on the shoulder and wandering back out into the common room with the entire carton of milk in his other hand. Jeremy gave him a mock-salute that Soldier copied with absolute conviction. He and Dad shared a glance after the two of them left, and Jeremy was the first one to break, snickering under his breath.

“I’ll look into it,” Dad said, and also left the kitchen, and Jeremy nodded and started trying to remember what else he’d been planning on doing before bed.

-

“So,” Dad said a few days later, materializing next to Jeremy when he was in the middle of his jog and making him almost jump out of his skin, skidding to a stop.

“You’re enjoying that new watch way too much,” Jeremy panted, out of breath and still very much startled.

“Maybe,” Dad said, and he was smiling. “But as I was saying.”

“All you said was ‘so’,” Jeremy pointed out, giving him a look.

“There’s a juvenile joke here about how I’m your father and so of course I say ‘so’, but if you wouldn’t mind it, I did have something important to say, mon lapin,” Dad replied, and Jeremy rolled his eyes hard at the horrible joke and cheesy name, fighting back a smile of his own.

“Go for it,” he said, and took the opportunity to bend and tighten his shoelaces.

“So. Regarding that Scout and his habits. You mentioned he spends time in blind spots of the cameras, oui?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. Keeps, uh, I guess he keeps getting infractions for going off base too much, too. I’ve logged him leaving like three times this week already,” Jeremy nodded.

“Indeed. Well, considering how new we are to the team, I did not want to jump to conclusions, and so contacted Miss Pauling and asked on your behalf for any older records, and I found out something very... intriguing.”

Jeremy looked up at him, blinking. ‘Intriguing’, historically, had always been a very, very bad thing.

“Apparently, it has been two years since they last had a Guard situated on base. The previous one was a much older gentleman, retired from being a full member of the team due to health complications but not entirely ready to part with the company. The previous guard was somewhat strict, and the Scout—the same as we have now—very much disliked the man. He continued acquiring near-constant infractions under the man’s watch for leaving when he was not meant to, so much so that the previous Guard proposed enstating trackers on the team when they went off-base. And before this policy could take hold, the previous Guard left the base one day and did not return, and finally was found dead a state over, one month later.”

Jeremy blinked once, twice. “Holy shit,” he said, and took note of the wary look on his face. “Okay. So we’re thinkin’ the same thing, right?”

“I would assume so. And…” Dad hesitated, moved to fidget with his cufflinks. “And I would not be particularly concerned about this, as I’m confident that you wouldn’t have gotten his attention from what you’ve been up to lately, and therefore wouldn’t be in danger yet should history attempt to repeat itself, but… he’s already taken a disliking to you.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I believe it’s something as simple as some sort of shallow jealousy. Another American on the team, also relatively young, filling the position of someone he disliked previously. He regularly complains about the fact that you don’t need to go do the same job as the rest of us.” Dad shrugged, glanced over at him. “That, combined with the fact that you have somewhat conflicting duties, well, he tends to rather tetchy. He claims that considering he’s meant to be the first line of defense, they shouldn’t also need a guard at night.”

Jeremy had a number of opinions about that, but he stuck to the most relevant ones. “I really don’t like this guy,” he said. “Might be, uh. Worth keeping an eye on.”

“Agreed.” Dad glanced back over his shoulder towards the base, then at his watch. “Enjoy the rest of your run. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, hit the bricks already, old man,” Jeremy scoffed, waving him off, and Dad rolled his eyes, disappearing again in a cloud of smoke. “You’re gonna be using that thing all the damn time now, aren’t you?”

“Oui,” came a voice from nowhere, and Jeremy huffed a laugh, meandering his way back into the rest of his jog.

-

Jeremy hummed along to the radio, flicking between cameras on autopilot and wondering when exactly to take his lunch break.

He didn’t face the clock or anything, so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he had a pretty solid rhythm at that point. Click, click, click, between the camera to the road, the camera to the main entrance, and the camera in the hall towards the middle of the building, for about one second each. At just about any time after 11 or 11:30, those were the only three in real time that he needed to keep an eye on, mostly for people coming back late from bar hopping or if Miss Pauling was rolling in on a delivery. All the other cameras he could see out of the corner of his eye, and any movement he’d pick up on pretty quick, even if it was usually just the doves fluttering on the camera to the Medbay. After he cycled through those (and there was almost never anything there) he’d cycle back through to the tape he had in, put it on high speed, and watch it for about two or three minutes, get through a chunk of that time. Mostly he’d just be making sure nobody had been in the base while the team was away ni o(which indeed there never was), so there wasn’t much of a reason to take it off high speed, and the second part of the night would be watching the tapes for the time the team was back on base.

Movement on a camera made him click the pause, and he glanced off to the side. One of the doves had shuffled to face the other direction. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the bigger monitor again and pressing play.

The second half of the night was a little more interesting. He just had to look at the tapes for the time the team was there, check for discrepancies that might point to Dad messing with the disguise technology off-the-clock or the enemy Spy having infiltrated. For the most part things were straightforward, but he at least got to see his teammates up to funny things sometimes. Pyro’s antics were usually entertaining. Soldier he only caught some of, on the basis of him often walking off out of range of the cameras when he went on his excursions. Demo was funny sometimes. Honestly, just seeing the Sniper anywhere but as a fuzzy distant shape was interesting.

Movement on a camera. Same dove. He ignored it. Click, click, click, all three cameras clear, back to the fast-forward of the same empty hallway as before.

He really needed to figure something out, for the Scout. Maybe he and Dad were just being paranoid. It would be insane for him to try to outright kill anyone who inconvenienced him, not to mention reckless, and stupid to boot. Acting like that in their line of work would make him a lot of enemies extremely quickly. It would make more sense for the old Guard disappearing to be unrelated, to be honest.

Yeah. Hell, he barely knew the guy, and here he was assuming he’d straight up whacked a guy for getting a little too on his case about something. Maybe they were wrong.

Movement on a camera. He glanced over and froze outright.

It took him five seconds to come to his senses enough to pause the playback on his screen.

Figures. Shapes. Not at the front entrance, in the hallway, there next to the back way, by the garage. At least three, moving carefully, hard to make out in the darkness.

Okay. Okay, don’t panic, focus.

Jeremy ran through a few things in his head. He’d already done a headcount, the only people he wasn’t sure about were the Sniper and the Medic, but he hadn’t seen the Medic in any of the hallways out of the infirmary. Three figures were two too many to be any of the team, and besides that, they didn’t look like the Medic. Too short to be the Sniper, moving differently. Different clothes.

Three people. He hopped up, rushed over to the wall, yanked open the panel he had there. Three buttons, which he needed to hit in order. The first would send an alert to Miss Pauling, the second to whoever was assigned to be on alert that night, the third would set off the alarm.

He hit the first, hit the second, and hesitated on the third.

Okay. Technically if he didn’t hit that third button, he’d be breaking protocol, which was, according to the manual, ‘grounds for termination’. He was pretty sure that meant a long swim with some concrete shoes. And it was apparently recorded every time he hit these buttons, so they could deduct from his pay on false alerts. So they’d know if he didn’t hit this third button. He needed to think fast.

This was a different button than the alert button. The alert was more subtle, set for just one person. The alarm was throughout the entire base, over every loudspeaker. Louder than a fire alarm. If he hit this one, these intruders would hear that there was an alarm going off. Anyone smart would book it, high tail it the hell out of there. But he still didn’t know where they came from.

There hadn’t been movement on any of the screens, and he looked at the camera feed facing the road already, a few times even. He should’ve seen them. And if they found their way in once, they could do it again.

If he didn’t hit the button, on the other hand, whoever was on alert would wake up and wonder why they’d gotten an alert but the alarm wasn’t going off. If they were clever, which they probably were if they’d lasted this long, they’d come to the security room to see what was up and they could work from there.

He closed the panel again and moved to wait.

A minute later, still no movement from the hallway where most of the rooms were. That was fine, they’d just woken up, and probably needed to get dressed and grab their guns.

Another minute later, no movement, which was fair, they just needed a second to get their bearings. The intruders, meanwhile, were just lurking, slowly making their way down the hall.

Another minute later, no movement, and he opened the panel to press the button again before he continued waiting. Maybe they didn’t hear him the first time.

Another minute later and he took to standing next to the panel, mashing the button rapidly, eyes on the screen where the intruders were passing the kitchen, starting to get pretty far into the building.

Another minute later and he stomped his way into his sneakers, grabbing his flashlight and gun and guard cap from where they were hung on the wall. “Fine, I’ll fucking do it myself,” he grumbled, and carefully shouldered open the door, taking one last glance at the camera before he shut the door behind himself.

He kept his footsteps quiet, squinting into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to finish adjusting as he crept towards where he’d last seen the figures. It was near-silent in the base at night except for the distant, quiet hum of generators and occasional shift of plumbing. It was getting more and more familiar, and he found himself able to tune it out somewhat, instead listening intently for footsteps besides his own, making sure to click the safety off his gun while he was still alone and not when he was close to whoever had decided to break in.

Okay. Dad did this all the time. He could handle this.

He slowed as he approached the corner near the kitchen, peering around as carefully as he could, tugging down the brim of his cap to try and hide any potential shine from his eyes. He caught sight of a vague shape standing near the doorway, hesitating before it crept inside, into the common area.

Not ideal, on the basis of that being their goddamn kitchen, but at least there would be cover.

By the time he managed to sneak up to the doorway, he could make out the sound of vague whispering. It was far enough that it gave him the boldness to peer into the room, and just slightly lit by the glow of the clock on the oven he could see two shapes there in the kitchen, the third lingering nearer to him, there by the table.

Jeremy was only just starting to make a plan, relieved to have the jump on them, when there was the distant sound of a generator humming to life, and all the figures stopped, paused for a moment.

“Fucking spooky here,” one whispered, barely audible.

“Calm down,” another whispered. “What, scared of ghosts?”

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, shifted onto the balls of his feet and started creeping a little further into the room. If he could just get all three of them to one side, so he wouldn’t need to pivot so much…

“You don’t know, maybe there’s ghosts here,” the first protested, and swore quietly at what sounded like their winging their elbow against the corner of the tale, and Jeremy tried to stick near the wall, managed to creep half-behind one of the chairs, trying to keep his silhouette indistinct. “These guys kill people.”

“So do we,” the third mumbled, moving out of sight in the kitchen, and Jeremy bit down on a swear, starting to inch behind the couch. “Don’t be a coward. And stop making so much noise.”

“You can’t shoot a ghost,” the first pointed out, moving a bit closer to the kitchen, giving the table a wide berth now. “Or punch it.”

“I can try,” the second said, and stopped at the sound of a rustle.

Jeremy held his breath, weight half-balanced against where he’d tried to step, newspaper trapped beneath his foot.

“That one wasn’t me,” the first whispered. There was another, more significant rustle throughout the room, and Jeremy could see a glint as the intruders drew their weapons.

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, and just barely managed not to swear out loud.

The first one was the closest by, lingering beside the arm of the couch Jeremy was crouched in the shadow of. “Do they have a cat here?” they asked, voice quiet.

The second was approaching into the main room more carefully. From the sound of the footsteps, trying to keep a shoulder closer to the wall, clearly paying more attention to the door. “Are you stupid or something?” was the reply, voice also quiet.

The third didn’t speak, but huffed out a laugh, which was enough to tell Jeremy that he was out of the kitchen.

Jeremy inhaled shakily, exhaled shakily, shifted his grip on his handgun and flashlight, and took a split second to think. Inhaled one more time.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his flashlight like a billy club and clobbering the first figure across the side of the head, sending them tumbling to the ground. From the sound of the impact, a dislocated jaw at the very least. One down.

A shout from the other side of the room, arms moving to try to aim, clearly struggling to see him, but that third figure was in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the oven’s clock, and that was enough to figure out where the head and chest were. He aimed, fired, got what he was pretty sure was the neck considering the brief spray of blood that splattered against the oven, darkening the room completely.

A swear from the second figure, and Jeremy wanted to swear too, because he’d hoped that second figure would be stupid and try and charge him, but now he was ten steps away and didn’t have time to fiddle with and cock the gun again, other hand full with a flashlight and no way to—

Oh, duh.

“Stay where you are,” the second figure ordered, but Jeremy’s eyes were a little better adjusted and besides that, he wasn’t the one talking. He lifted his flashlight and clicked it on.

The second figure cried out, recoiling at the sudden blindingly bright light in what had been near-darkness, and Jeremy had time to finagle his thumb up to cock his gun again, now able to aim with absolute accuracy, this shot connecting with the figure’s head.

He exhaled.

It took Jeremy two minutes to remember to fire a bullet into the chest of the unconscious guy, and another minute for the other mercenaries to start showing up, half-dressed and armed. Dad, presumably to prove a point, showed up pretty close to the middle of the pack almost fully dressed. Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how long it took before Miss Pauling showed up, but he wasn’t even halfway through their questions by that time.

“Guard, headcount?” she asked before she even bothered saying hello, still wearing her motorcycle helmet and looking more than a little bit miffed.

“Uh,” he said, eyes drawn away from where Medic was assessing the bodies on the kitchen table, “seven present and accounted for. Sniper’s probably out at his van, don’t know about the Scout.”

“Alright. Pyro,” she said, and Pyro stood at attention, bunny slippers squeaking at the movement. “go wake up Sniper and get him in here.”

Pyro nodded, handing their weird unicorn plushie thing to Jeremy as they passed by, giving him a solemn nod before hurrying away.

“Okay. Guard, hit me with a rundown, then,” she said, and shot a glance around the room. “No peanut gallery needed. And Medic, please don’t take them apart too much. I gotta get rid of those later.”

“Uh. Spotted these guys on the cameras, hit the first and second alerts,” Jeremy said.

“And not the third?” she asked pointedly.

“They were, like, right next to the door, and—here’s the thing, Miss P, is I dunno how the hell they got in here,” he said, and there was a general balk from the room. “No, seriously. They didn’t come in on the main road, they were in one of the back hallways by the garage. There’s gotta be a hole in the cameras or something, because I seriously don’t know where they came from. And if they booked it, they’d take whatever vehicle they used to get here, too, and we might not figure it out. Thought I’d just wait for whoever the hell was supposed to be on alert so we could… I dunno, at least see which way they went.”

“Guard,” she admonished, and he shrank a little bit. “That was incredibly reckless. What if nobody had shown up to help you?”

“Uh,” he said, blinked, “but… nobody did show up.”

A pause. She blinked. “What? You’re the one who did that?” she asked, entirely shocked, pointing towards the three bodies on the table.

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that my job?” he asked carefully, shifting the stuffed animal under his arm.

“No, you’re—you’re just supposed to be the Guard, you’re supposed to watch cameras, not—“ She paused, taking a second to push up her glasses and rub at the bridge of her nose, inhaling, exhaling. “Okay. Points for… going above and beyond, here, but Guard, don’t do that again.”

“Sure thing, Miss P,” he mumbled, tugging on the brim of his guard cap, and sighed to himself as Miss Pauling moved away to try and stop Medic from attempting to covertly steal a few organs from the corpses. Dad clapped him on the shoulder supportively, and that did make him feel a little better. He wasn’t expecting a clap to the other shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see Heavy there, looking just slightly less grim than usual.

“Little Guard man is credit to team,” he said simply, solemnly.

Jeremy straightened up slightly. “Oh. Hey, thanks,” he said. Heavy nodded at him.

“It’s true,” Demo called, and he looked over, got another approving nod. “Really saved the lot of us, lad.”

“I, I mean, hey, it’s… what I’m here for. Or, uh. I thought that was it, anyways,” he shrugged, glancing away. “I mean, yeah, I’m pretty cool, though.”

Dad bumped his arm for the last part, and he snickered. “My question,” Dad continued, doing his best to ignore him, “is primarily regarding who, precisely, was supposed to be present to help Guard with this. Who is meant to be on alert?”

“It’s meant to be Scout, ain’t it?” the Engineer asked from nearby, frowning. A general murmur of agreement. “Could he have slept through it?”

“Heavy doubts this,” Heavy grumbled, looking troubled.

“Why’re we awake?” asked Sniper from the doorway, and various teammates called out a greeting. Sniper seemed half-gone, and completely grumpy, but not as grumpy as Pyro, and not nearly as gone as the man leaning heavily against Pyro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” the Scout managed, grinning, speech garbled, visibly sloppy and unbalanced. “What’s up, guys?”

Groans from parts of the room. “Drinkin’ again, Scout?” the Engineer drawled, visibly irritated.

“That’s my trademark, lad, go on,” Demo laughed, but the enthusiasm wasn’t entirely there.

“Scout,” Miss Pauling said, voice firm in a way that made Jeremy almost flinch in sympathy. “Are you aware that we’ve had a situation here while you’ve been sleeping?”

“Weren’t sleeping,” Sniper murmured, and eyes turned to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Came stumbling in ‘round when I was heading in. He was out for the night. Bar, looks like.”

“What?” Jeremy demanded. “Why the fuck didn’t I see him leave on the cameras?”

“Alright,” Miss Pauling said, and Jeremy looked at her. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s possible he went through the back tunnel.”

“Back tunnel?” Jeremy asked, and glanced around. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of it.

“For emergencies only. Scout’s the only one who I’ve given a key card to. I have one too. It’s supposed to be used for transporting especially sensitive information, most of the team isn’t supposed to even know it exists. If there’s a gap in the cameras around the back of the building, he might have been using it to… sneak out to go to town, even though he knows he’s already in hot water for leaving the base so much,” Miss Pauling said, glaring at Scout, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” he protested, scoffing.

“That tunnel is for emergencies only,” Miss Pauling stressed. “I trusted you with the privilege of knowing about it account of having worked here for so long, and you’re using that privilege and key card to mess around?”

“He was coming back from around the front of the building, at least,” Sniper chimed in, and Pyro nodded. “Not that I’d understand the point of sneaking out if he’s going to just walk back in the front door.”

“Key card?” Medic repeated from near the table, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s a magnetized card, that can be read by a card reader, used like a key,” Miss Pauling explained, deflating a little bit.

His eyebrows furrowed further. “Would it happen to look anything like this?” he asked, picking up a lanyard from the table and holding it up, showing the room the card clipped onto the end of it.

Two beats of silence. “Spy, would you mind?” Miss Pauling asked politely, nodding towards the Scout, who had gone pale.

“Not at all,” Dad said just as politely, and walked over towards the Scout and Pyro, then circled around behind them, and sank a blade into the Scout’s spine. He promptly crumbled to the floor, dead.

“Well. At least that’s that mystery solved,” Miss Pauling sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose again. “Now I’ve gotta block off time tomorrow to get rid of three bodies, and then hopefully that’s the last we’re gonna hear of this or else the Administrator is gonna kill me.”

“What about the Scout?” Heavy rumbled.

“…Scratch that. Four bodies,” she mumbled, face dropping into her hands. “And then I need to find his replacement. Ugh.”

“Can’t imagine you’d need to go far,” Demo said, and Jeremy looked up, and Demo was very obviously tilting a thumb in his direction.

“He’s proven himself to be better at this job,” Dad agreed, shrugging. “And I would say on a bad day he’s still a better runner than the previous Scout on a good one.”

“He can clearly handle a firearm well,” the Engineer noted, looking over one of the bodies.

“And a blunt object,” Medic chimed, just a bit too pleased. “This jaw is almost completely shattered!”

“Okay, okay, fine, sure,” Miss Pauling waved off, one hand still pressed to her face, clearly overwhelmed and tired. “We’ll get his paperwork in tomorrow. Congratulations, you’re the new Scout, any questions? Can the questions wait until morning? Great, thank you. Good night, everyone. Medic, have the bodies in bags for me at least, okay?”

A distracted thumbs up from Medic, and Miss Pauling was groaning, wandering back out of the room, and most of the team followed, yawning amongst themselves. Sniper half-attempted to ask again why the hell any of them were awake, but gave up halfway through. Pyro, for one, made sure to at least retrieve the plushie from Scout’s arms before wandering off, giving him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Dad said, and when he looked over, he was smiling. “A promotion, mon lapin. Congratulations, new Scout.”

“Do I gotta wear that stupid outfit he always wears?” Jeremy asked, entirely serious. His reply was a laugh and a pat on the shoulder before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Pops, I’m serious. Do I? Dad!?”

-

“—So that’s why I figured, y’know, might as well tell you guys,” Jeremy finished rambling, hands in his pockets, continuing down the hallway. “Because… I dunno. I could tell Miss P, but it’s nice having secret stuff, y’know?”

“You think this is how they actually got in?” Demo asked, looking dubious. “Little blind spot in the cameras?”

“Only a couple feet wide, you said?” Sniper grumbled.

“Sounds possible,” Heavy said hesitantly.

“I dunno. Maybe. But if I tell Miss P about it, they’re gonna fix it,” Jeremy shrugged, turning the corner and stopping. “There. I knew it.”

They stopped with him, following his line of sight. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Sniper deadpanned. “You want to tell me he’d been climbing out a window like a teenager?”

Jeremy shrugged, moving to open the window in question. It swung open easily, just large enough to push through with only a little bit of a problem, barely needing to turn his shoulders. “He’s not much bigger than me, and what the hell else would he be doing here?” he pointed out.

“Heavy cannot fit through that window,” Heavy deadpanned.

“Yeah. Sorry, big guy,” Jeremy apologized, leaning back inside and closing it again. “But hey, mystery solved, right?”

“Well, if I ever need windows to climb out of, now I know just the lad for the job,” Demo said, nudging him. “Thanks, Guard. Or, er, Scout. Och, now that’s going to take getting used to, aye? Might just stick to calling you ‘laddie’, laddie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he laughed, nudging him right back. And as much as they ribbed him for it, he did see a kind of appreciation there. Just like he’d figured, they seemed to take note of him taking their side and not just Miss Pauling’s.

Now he just needed to switch back over to the day shift.

#father-son bonding au #dad!spy #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #my fanfiction #everybody talks #really happy with this one even if it took Way Too Fucking Long

[wonder-womans-ex]

Curtain Call

Act One, Scene Five 

Sirius knows he’s petty. Extremely so. Petty enough to send the elevator all the way down to the ground floor so that Remus has to either take the stairs or wait, at least.

What Remus said is still wheeling in his mind. Remus kissed someone else. It hurts, yeah, but he’ll put on his brave face. He’ll move on. 

The thing that hurts most—the thing he can’t ignore or get over��is that he’s not sure whether he’s more upset that Remus cheated, more upset that Remus dumped him, or more upset that Remus didn’t give him the chance to break it off. Remus should have owned up to it, and he should have given Sirius that choice. It’s like he said when before he left the staff room—maybe he would have ended things, maybe he wouldn’t have. 

He should have at least had the option to break Remus’s heart like Remus broke his, but instead Remus just broke his twice. 

Sure enough, Remus is five minutes late to the seminar, and Sirius knows that Lily’s pissed. What he doesn’t know is whether she’s pissed at Remus, or if she’s figured out that Sirius is the reason behind the delay and is pissed at him. She seems the type to just know these things. 

He’s pretty sure he’s not imagining her glare in his direction when she says, “We’ll start in a minute or two; John will be back by then with the papers we need for today’s lecture,” but he decides to ignore it. After all, if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s ignoring his problems. 

Well, and running away from them. It depends on the day and what mood he’s in. 

He also doesn’t miss the fact that when Remus does return, he pulls the classic ‘take one and pass it on’ instead of handing out the papers one by one. It’s probably so that he doesn’t have to look Sirius in the face. 

When the stack reaches him, Sirius has to reach back a whole row of seats to get to the next person. He almost tips over in his chair, but manages to save himself a sore tailbone—and a whole lot of embarrassment—at the last minute. 

The page is split into five sections: theme, topic, setting, characters, and story objective. He remembers, vaguely, learning some of this in grade seven, but that’s where his memory blanks. (What the everloving fuck is a story objective?)

Apparently he’s about to find out. 

Lily claps her hands together in an incredibly teacher-like way. If he didn’t know better, he would have a hard time believing this is the same woman who so aggressively played matchmaker (or maybe she was actually trying to drive them further away from each other; thinking back on it, Sirius can’t actually tell) only a few minutes before. “Well,” she says, addressing the room at large, “who can tell me what a theme is?”

There are a few raised hands, and she calls on the boy just behind Sirius, with chocolate-brown hair and more freckles than he can count. “It’s what the story is about. But like, in an abstract way.”

“Very good.” Lily takes a whiteboard marker out of her jeans pocket. Turning to the board, she draws a T-table, labeling one side theme and the other topic. Under the first heading, she writes abstract, and, across from it, concrete. 

“Theme and topic are often confused, because they’re both what a story is about. But—what’s your name?”

“Benjy. Benjy Fenwick,” says the freckled boy. 

“But Benjy here has hit the nail on the head. The difference between theme and topic is that a theme is abstract—a concept, or an idea, or a feeling—while a topic is concrete—such as a person, place, thing, or event….”

Sirius begins to zone out. Absentmindedly, he grabs a pencil and begins sketching on the smooth, polished wood of his desk. A circle, an oval, a line here and there, some shading—slowly, his doodle begins to take shape. By the time Lily says, “Now, who can give me some examples of a good story theme?” and people start calling out their answers, he’s perfected the glint in his anime-style eye. 

“One last one. How about you, by the back, with the Blue Jays shirt?”

(Of course she’s pretending she doesn’t know his name. Lucky him—he’s always wanted to be demoted back to ‘hey, you.’)

His head jerks up. “Uh, relationships,” he says, because he’s a walking cliche and, yes, of course that’s the only thing on his mind. Why wouldn’t it be?

“There’s an interesting one.” She adds it to the board, right underneath hardship, pressing hard enough that the nib of the pen squeaks. “It could technically be counted as a topic, too, but it works well as a theme.”

There’s a pause as she looks around, seemingly searching for a suitable place to put her pen. Finally, she gives up, tucking it behind her ear. 

“What I want everyone to do now is think carefully about what theme they want to write about. You can pick as many as you want, and you can add more later, but it’s easiest to focus on just two or three. You can pick one of the ones we came up with here, or it can be something totally different, but make sure it’s something that speaks to you.”

Her words resonate in Sirius’s mind. Something that speaks to him? He starts to write, his large printing cramped in the tiny box, and he gets halfway through the second C before he erases it again. He has to think for a minute. He doesn’t want to write about success, not when there’s so little of it in his life right now, but he doesn’t want to write about something dark, like suffering, either.

Loss, he puts down with finality. On second thought, he adds healing. And then, just because he feels like it, friendship. 

The clock on the wall says they have twelve more minutes before they’re finished; he wonders what else they’ll do before the class ends. Right now, the only sound in the room is the quiet scratching of pencils—soothing, he must admit, even though he personally prefers the excitement of applause—and it seems as though he’s the only one who’s finished. 

He lets himself look around, his eyes flickering from the clock to the whiteboard to the person sitting to his left. They dart to the door at the other side of the hall, and forward to where Remus is... staring right back at him. 

The two lock eyes for a good fifteen seconds before Remus lowers his gaze to the floor. It’s not much of a victory, Sirius knows, but it’s a victory nonetheless.

So why doesn’t it feel like one?

There’s not time to burrow any deeper into his own thoughts, however, because Lily is writing once more on the board. Unfortunately for him, he can’t see what she’s written—even when she turns around—because her head is in the way. 

“I assume most of you have your themes, and even if you don’t, you can always come back to it. Right now, we’re going to move onto topic—surprise surprise, also what the story is about, but this time on a more concrete scale. Let’s take Romeo and Juliet, for instance, because I’m fairly sure it’s a story we all know. Does anyone have any idea what the topic is?”

Silence. 

Sirius, usually the self-aware one in any situation (but apparently not this one), knows there are two possible reasons as to why he raises his hand. Unfortunately, he does not know which of them it is. The first is simple—he’s confident has the answer, and he wants to share it. The second is both a little more complex and a little more likely, and that is that he doesn’t know what the answer is and maybe, just maybe, he wants to prove to Remus he’s not afraid to take risks. 

Either way, his tentative “Love?” is declared—spoiler alert—incorrect. 

“Wrong,” Lily says. “Love is a theme, not a topic. Try again.”

Well, he wasn’t expecting a second chance. (It seems he only ever gets them when he’s unprepared.) (Maybe there’s a lesson in that.)

“Um… people in love?” If the first answer wasn’t right, this one won’t be either. He knows that. But it is, frankly, all he can come up with. 

“Ding-a-ling-a-ling,” Lily deadpans, which actually sounds a little funny in that accent of hers. He’s not going to mention that, though, because he’s on pretty thin ice already where she’s concerned. “Correct. Yes, maybe they sound like basically the same thing, but they’re not. The way I like to put it is this: if you can draw a picture of it, chances are it’s the topic. If you can’t, chances are it’s the theme.” After a moment, she adds, “I probably should have said that at the beginning. Whatever.” 

This causes Remus’s lips to twitch up into a smile. In fact, it’s only just now that Sirius realizes he’s watching Remus at all—he could have sworn he stopped—and he forces himself to look away. 

But he really can’t deny it any longer. He really can’t deny that that little smile, happy and pure with just a hint of mischief, still makes his heart pound and his brain turn to mush. He really can’t deny that despite everything—despite the breakup, and the recent confession, and the promises made late at night that he’s getting over this, he really is…

He’s still in desperate, painful, middle-grade YA novel love with Remus/John/does-it-really-matter-what-his-name-is Lupin. 

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #lily evans #remus x sirius #muggle au #university au #I really hate this chapter but whatever #it needed to be published

[caitlyn-winchester]

Pilot (Part 2)

Cordell Walker x daughter!Reader

word count: 1,554

warnings: dead parent, abandonment?, mentions of deportation

A.N. sorry I haven't been that active about updating this story. I had some school assignments to complete(and still do). this past week I just been very unmotivated to do anything. I'll try to post more! Thank u for your patience.

masterlist

“What are we doing out here again?” Bel asked me as we hopped over a fence that led to an open field.

“Just looking at the stars, I guess. My mom used to take me out here all the time, especially on a full moon.” I told her, sitting down on the grass

“Full moon, like tonight.” she realized.

“Yeah.” I pulled out my leather-bound sketchbook and markers. “She let me draw the starscape while she took some pictures on her camera. I've drawn every single full moon since I was ten, I've missed a couple since she passed. The first couple of months were difficult to get myself to come out here. She even made this sketchbook” I explained. Bel put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I was so lucky to have her, she is an amazing friend.

“She sounds amazing Y/N. I wish I could meet her.” She said and I just nodded. “Can I see your drawings?”

“Sure.” I handed her the book and she started to flip through the pages

“You're really good” she complimented

“Thanks.” I gave a small smile. I layed down on the grass and looked at the stars. It's been a little while and we’ve been talking, looking at the stars or I've been doodling the sky. We heard hard footsteps in the distance and looked over to see someone running in our direction. “What the hell? I breathed out and sat up. As the person got closer I recognized the person. It’s Ryan Marshall from school.

“Ryan?” Bel said when he was just about to pass us but he stopped when he heard his name.

“Hey guys!” he slurred. I rolled my eyes, great he’s drunk.

“Hey! You! Stop!” We heard from the same direction Ryan came from. Two police officers came running over and Ryan took off again. One police officer continued to chase ryan but the other stopped and looked at us.

“What are you ladies doing out here? Were y’all also at that party down the block.” he asked us pointing a flashlight at us. I put my hand out to block my eyes. Does he really gotta shine that thing directly in my face?

“No sir, we were just stargazing. We never stepped foot in that party. You can test us if you'd like.” I explained and Bel agreed with my statement.

“No, you guys don't seem drunk or anything. But you are trespassing.” he told us.

“Trespassing? I thought this was a public field.” I blurted.

“Last month this field was issued for game only during this season. You can only be on this field if you have a hunting license.” he explained “I’ll have to take you into the station for trespassing.”

“Can’t you let us off with a warning? We had no idea and you have no signs up!” I jabbed

“Sorry missy its protocol.” He read us our rights and asked us if we had any weapons and all the other police crap that's part of their ‘protocol’.

»»————-　★　————-««

Currently we are at the police station waiting for our parents to pick us up. Bel told me about her parents and how they might get deported since she was brought in. I feel terrible, I has no idea they changed the field over for a stupid game season. Just another thing I messed up. Luckily Stan Morrison was able to drop our charges since I explained exactly what happened and he understood. Unfortunately, we were taking in so our parents must pick us up since we are minors. We were waiting for probably a good thirty minutes when I saw my dad round the corner. I’m shocked he actually showed up, that’s a new one. I do really want to jump up and hug him but something in me is just mad at him for leaving us so I can’t bring myself to. Also being picked up at a police station was not my ideal first meeting of my dad after his absence.

“And here he is to save the day” I say under my breath.

“Good to see you too.” He said and approached us.

“Dad, this is Bel. Can we take her home?” I asked him.

“No. minors have to be picked up by their parents.”

“Well i’m not just leaving her here.”

“Then you can stay in a cell here tonight.”

Bel’s parents enter the police station. Dad takes his hat off and approaches them.

“It’s good to meet ya’ll. I've been out of town for a while so I don't really know Y/N’s social life. We should spend some time together.” he says.

“Stop it.” I whisper. He can't be serious right now.

“...Seems like the girls got into some trouble tonight so maybe we could help each other out.” he explains. Bella’s parents don't say anything as another police officer calls them back.

“Epic first meeting.” Bel sighs.

“I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing.” I apologize for my dad’s actions.

“For who? Lets go.” Dad shot at me and I just rolled my eyes. I grabbed my sketchbook off the seat and gave Bel a quick hug before leaving the station with my dad.

»»————-　★　————-««

The car ride home was an awkward one. Like what do I even say to him? ‘Nice to finally see you again after you abandoned us for almost a year’ I don't think that's the nicest thing to say. I felt sweet relief when I saw us pull up to my grandparents house. I took off my seat belt and opened the car door.

“Y/N,” dad warned. I stopped opening the door and started fidgeting with the edge of my sketchbook. “Want to tell me what the hell you were thinking?”

“I didn't know we were trespassing. There was no sign or anything to tell us pedestrians were not allowed on the field. Apparently they recently changed it or something, I don't know. Mom used to take me out to that field all the time. I didn't think anything of it.” I explained. He nodded in understanding.

“It's still dangerous. What if a hunter thought you were a deer and shot you? I don't like you out alone. I know you had Bel with you, but there's some bad people out there that can overpower you guys. I’d rather you be home for dinner with your family at night.” He told me.

“Oh like how you were home for dinner last night?” I challenged and he sighed. “Mom said you'd never be on a case too long.” I remarked.

“And I never meant to be.” dad said and I shook my head in disbelief. “This last case...it got complicated.” he explained.

“Complicated?” I scoffed. “A five minute phone call this summer, then nothing for three months! It’s bad enough we didn't have mom” I pointed out.

“We both gotta stop acting like she's going to come back.” he stated. I jumped out of the car and burst into tears. Uncle Liam was outside now and he tried to reach out to me but I ignored him. August was right in the living room when I entered the house.

“Y/N? What's wrong? What happened? Where’s dad” he asked me.

“Its nothing August. Just leave it alone.” I sniffed, trying my best to contain myself for my brother’s sake.

“Why were you at the police station? I thought you were just going to yours and mom’s spot?” he nagged on.

“I did. It's some kind of hunting ground now, you can’t go on it without a hunting license. You done with the twenty questions?” I snapped.

“Y/N, want to come have some leftovers?” my grandma asked me. Well she technically asked but she was actually telling me to get my ass over there.

“Sure Grams” I sighed and sat down by the kitchen island. She put down a plate of her famous pot roast and I dug in. While I ate she was cleaning up the kitchen.

“You’re not going to ask me what I did?” I inquired.

“No, because I know you’re a good, smart kid and you wouldn't do anything too damaging on purpose.” She offered me a kind smile. “Plus I know what tonight is with the full moon. I can put two and two together.” she laughed. Uncle Liam and dad walked in the house but I didn't hear them enter so I continued talking.

“Last month, they changed the field for ‘game hunting only’. I had no idea, so Bel and I got charged for trespassing. I can’t go out to that field anymore. Now I feel like another piece of mom is gone.” I confessed tears welling up in my eyes again.

“You can still go draw the stars, I know your mom would love for you to keep doing y'all's traditions. I'll even go out with you.” she offered.

“Thanks Grandma. I appreciate it, I really do, but it just wouldn't be the same.” I sighed.

“Not many things are going to be the same, Y/N.” she stated.

“I miss her so much.” I started sobbing. Grandma rounded the island and pulled me into a hug.

“I know you do sweetie.” she consoled, rubbing her hand in circles on my back, trying her best to comfort me.

A.N. sorry if you don't like to draw. Emily seemed like the type of parent that liked her kids to be creative, like August and photography. So I figured drawing could be what the reader and Emily did together. 

PART 3 OUT NOW

#walker #cordell walker #cw walker #walker texas ranger #jaredpadelcki #gen padalecki #supernatural #walker x daughter!reader #micki ramirez #walker fanfiction

[brain-jarred]

Chapter one.  Marriage problems

In the dank bowels of New York, it was a normal day of extracting brains from dubiously consenting test subjects, and Dr. Hal was bored. Bored with his life, he knew he was smart, he knew he had a brilliant mind. In theory this job was in fact nurturing his mind, and putting it to good use in bettering mankind, and-

Yeah yeah whatever. He knew that this was for a good cause, as he carefully cut open the patient's skull, revealing the squishy and oozing brain. He sighed, and his colleague finally took notice of his dour mood. “Dr. Hal? What's wrong? You don't seem very enthusiastic about this.” Dr. Param asked, looking up from their clipboard which they were doodling in the margins of. Dr. Param was very much like Dr. Hal, in the sense that both of them had similar backgrounds. Though despite this similarity, the two were as different as could be. “Come on, Hal! Put some pep into that neuro-needle!” They said cheerfully, pumping their metal arm in the air, much like a cheerleader. In response, Dr. Hal just rolled his eyes and took the neuro-needle out of the tray, and did what you do with a needle.

Once he was done with it, he returned it to the tray, and the doctor began the process of removing the brain from the skull. He sighed again, and turned to Dr. Param. “Hey Dr. Param? Do you ever feel like… I don't know, that we could be doing literally anything else with our lives?” He questioned as he lifted the brain with one hand, and cut the spinal cord with the other. “Like, I know that this is to improve mankind and everything, but… this is just so…” He plopped the brain into a jar, staring at it for a bit. “Boring.” He said flatly. Dr. Param looked shocked. “What?! No way!” They retorted, limping their metal wrist joint in at Dr. Hal. They put down their clipboard and slid a pan containing a brain across the counter. Then, they sat their elbow where it had been. “Listen Hal, Dr. Hal. All jobs have their… their dips!” “Dips?” “Like low points on a graph!” Dr. Param said while walking around. Their six metal legs made clicking sounds as they moved on the metal floors. They had their arms behind their back. They circled around the now brainless body that was laying on the surgical table. They patted one of the legs to accentuate their point. “You just-” Another slap to the cadaver’s legs.”-Just gotta keep going!”

“Dr. Param, I appreciate the enthusiasm, as well as the attempts at motivation, but you should stop slapping the body.” “You aren't listening to me!” Dr. Param slapped the body. “No. I’m not.” The scientist sighed and walked over to the sink, removing his thick plastic gloves, placing them in the cleaning solution. His hands were… not human. Because neither Dr. Hal, nor Doctor Param, were human beings. Doctor Param was a centipede-esque cyborg, maybe even centaur-like in their design. They had one almost normal looking hand, if not for the sharp claws on the tips, and one needle like appendage on the other arm. The other legs, six of them, were simple, like a bug’s legs. They had huge red eyes that stared annoyed into the back of Dr. Hal’s head. Or rather, they were staring at Dr. Hal’s brain, that was visible through the translucent psychic aura that made up his body. He looked very much like a person, but without bones, skin, muscle, or even nerves. He looked like a person composed entirely of blue jelly. The only solid parts of him were his brain and his eyes. The two doctors both had human brains, greatly enhanced, yet still human, brains.

“I’m just saying-” “I know what you're saying.” Dr. Hal interjected. “You're saying I should just accept the life I've been given, and I shouldn't wish for anything more.” “Wow. Rude.” The cyborg huffed. ”That's your problem! You are rude. When people try to cheer you up, you just-” they waved their arms around. “You push them away! You push me away.” He huffed. “Why have you been so- what am I doing wrong!? You have been so on edge lately.” “I don't want to talk about this anymore.” Dr. Hal looked away and began to pad out of the room. “Don't walk away from me!” They said, raising their voice. “Please! Let's just talk!” They said, throwing their arms up in the air.They had been working with each other for sixteen years, and though Dr. Hal was walking away, and acting standoffish, he did care about his colleague. The two of them had been working together for sixteen years. The pair acted like a married couple when they argued. But really, they were both married to their jobs, not each other. Recently though, Dr. Hal’s marriage with work was failing. Like a marriage in which both of the participants were no longer in love with each other.

Dr. Param followed Dr. Hal for a bit, before sighing and going to sit down in one of the chairs outside the operating theatre. It was a bit awkward to sit in, considering they had a 5 foot long body. In reality, the bug-like cyborg laid on the chair rather than sat in it. They watched as Dr. Hal put his hands in his lab coat and power-walked away to his quarters. They hated when he got like this. Lately they had been noticing that his colleague's heart just wasn't in his work like it used to be. Dr. Param missed it, back when things were simple. Executing tests on subjects, researching, and all the other marvelous things- they weren't fun anymore. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be fun, maybe this work was supposed to be hard and laborious. But… Ugh. Dr. Param just sat there, trying to think of ways to reignite that fire that had been reduced to cinders within Dr. Hal. Meanwhile, Dr. Hal was in his quarters. The off-white walls surrounded him, it was a small room, only about 9 feet wide and long. The ceiling was low, and if he jumped, he would probably hit his head on the ceiling. Not that he was the type to just randomly jump. That was more of Dr. Param’s thing. Being all excited and enthusiastic about their job… Dr. Hal wondered how they did it. How they managed to be as passionate about their work as they were the day they both first woke up and did their first assignments. Part of him admired it, maybe even envied it. These walls. These floors. The lights, the blood, the smell of this lab. It was all the both of them knew. Their old lives were gone. Dr. Hal wasn't supposed to miss it. He had consented to this after all. He consented to having his body removed from his brain, and having his brain utterly transformed into something inhuman. Dr. Param consented to it too. So then why did he feel like something was missing? 

Why would he miss being a terminally ill cancer patient? This was a far more noble life than wasting away in a hospital bed with no family to be there as he died. Of course he did not remember being a terminally ill cancer patient, but that was what his bosses told him. They even showed him pictures of who he used to be. Birth records, I.D., photographs. All meaningless to him now. 

He had been thinking more about it lately. He hadn't told anyone though. He always got the feeling that the bosses didn't like it. It was an unspoken taboo to mention the past when the goal of the organization was to further the path into the future. He closed his eyes. Well, he didn't really have eyelids. He just shaped the ectoplasm that comprised his body to slide over his eyeballs.  And then there was a knock at his door, before he could tell them to come in, someone he didn't expect to see today walked into his room stiffly. The person that entered his room was a pale man, with wispy and wild white hair, and a ratty scarf worn over his lab coat. His face was round, it would have been almost friendly looking if not for the deep scowl that he wore on his face at all times. Dr. Hal sat up, and then got off his bed to stand respectfully towards the head scientist “Dr. Brian.” He remarked. “It's good to see you.” “You did good work on the last subject, but we have another assignment for you.” Doctor brian said, ignoring pleasantries and going straight for what was needed of Dr. Hal. “We have a subject coming in that is extremely high profile. Not only that, but it's going to be a vivisection. Further details will be given later.” He said in a monotone. “Oh. I see. But why are you telling me this in person? I feel like this could have been communicated in a memo.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Because you haven't been confirming your memos.” He huffed. “You have been acting highly unprofessional lately. Now tell me why that is.” He asked pointedly, glaring up at Dr. Hal. “I apologize.” He began, taking in a breath. “I have just been feeling unwell lately. I was actually going to request a week’s vacation for-” “Denied.” The head scientist interrupted. “The high profile vivisection is tomorrow.” “Oh.” Dr. Hal folded his arms. “I assume my...talents will be needed?” he asked. “Both you and Dr. Param will be needed, yes.” “Alright.” he looked away. “Tell you what-” Dr Brian began. “You can have your week's vacation after the vivisection tomorrow. It's estimated to take six hours to complete.” Dr. Hal’s eyes widened. Wow. That was more than double the length of the longest vivisections he had done. This must be someone special that they were vivisecting. “Will it be a terminal one?” He asked. “Yes.” Damn it. Dr. Hal hated the terminal ones. Usually they were performed only on death row prisoners or terminally ill patients. So he didn't feel shame about most of them, despite technically being a murderer. Well, he wasn't really a murderer. They were going to die anyway, so who cares? He certainly didn't. But it was still unpleasant to be in the mind of a dying person. It was sometimes borderline nightmarish. Of course, he wouldn't voice these opinions out loud. But Dr. Brian’s scowl still deepened. “Do what you will for the rest of today.” He huffed, and exited the room. End of chapter one

#oc #oc story #mad scientist oc #robot oc #Brainjarred #medical horror #body horror

[barnabyjr]

Pretending- Barnaby x Reader

Everyone knew Ismelda’s heart had softened enough to have feelings for Barnaby, and for weeks she practically stalked her fellow Slytherin and former friend. The thing was, Barnaby was just too nice to stop it. In fact, he wasn’t aware that Ismelda was suddenly so interested in him til Merula pointed it out, complaining that the girl should be focusing on getting House Points instead of boys. Barnaby felt bad- he didn’t want to hurt Ismelda’s feelings, but he definitely did not feel the same way she did. 

So when Ismelda confronted him about her crush, he made a very rash decision. 

“Actually, I’m dating, uh, Y/N!” he said, pulling you close to him. 

Ismelda stared daggers into your skin as you stood there, even more confused than she was. You had just been walking down the hallway when Barnaby grabbed you, calling you his girlfriend in front of a soulless emo girl that was definitely going to make you pay for this. 

Barnaby looked at you, his green eyes giving away the truth that his nervous smile was trying to hide. 

“Yeah, we started going out this week,” you said, putting an arm around Barnaby. 

He sighed contentedly. Ismelda just stood there, her eyes darting between you and Barnaby. Finally, she rolled her eyes and walked away, huffing about becoming an emotionless shell of a person. Barnaby quickly let go of you and apologized profusely. 

“Barn, Barn,” you said, steadying him, “I’m okay, just confused. Why’d you tell Ismelda I’m your girlfriend?”

“It kinda slipped out,” he answered, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Did she confess her crush or something?” 

“You knew about that?” he gasped, making you giggle under your breath. 

“Everybody knows, hot shot,” you said, pretending to punch his shoulder. 

“Well, I don’t like her but I didn’t wanna hurt her feelings.”

“Lying isn’t much better, Barn,” you said, watching his face fall. 

“I know, I’m sorry Y/N. I panicked and then I saw you and I was like perfect Ismelda won’t hate anyone if I already have a girlfriend and besides I didn’t wanna have to say no to her but I really didn’t want to have to agree to go on a date with her or something but I don’t wanna be mean you know-”

“We’ll just deal with this as it happens,” you said, cutting off Barnaby’s train of thought before it went off the rails to crash and burn. 

You patted his shoulder, walking with him as you made your way to the Great Hall for dinner. Why weren’t you that upset with Barnaby? Ismelda was going to kill you! If it had been anyone else, you would’ve shut it down then and there. Why was it different with Barnaby?

The next day, in Potions class, Merula wouldn’t stop staring at you. Sitting at the table with you and Rowan, she ignored the assignment to study your every movement. 

“If you don’t stop looking at me, I’m botching your potion,” you snapped at her, not looking up from your cauldron. Rowan pretended not to notice what was going on. 

Merula leaned over, resting her face onto her hands. She looked up at you with a mischievous grin. 

“So, Barnaby…” she said, somewhat tauntingly. 

“He’s allied with us now, Snyde.”

“Clearly more than allied,” she responded, raising her eyebrows with a smirk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Y/L/N, don’t play dumb! You’re dating Barnabae…” 

Rowan dropped their wooden spoon into the cauldron. 

“You’re what?” she practically yelled, earning a glare from Snape. 

“Oh yeah,” Merula said, lowering her voice, “apparently your little friend here managed to snag Barnaby Lee.”

“Why do you keep saying his name like that,” you huffed, grabbing the spoon.

 “You finally asked out Barnaby and you didn’t tell me,” Rowan asked, surprised. 

“For some weird reason, only Ismelda and I know about it...”

“It’s new,” you said, rolling your eyes at Merula. “I was gonna tell you about it after class, Rowan.”

Merula sunk back into her seat with a grin. Like any good enemy, she knew when you were uncomfortable. All she had to do was catch you in your lie, then you’d never try to mess with her again. 

So she tried: every single class, meal, or game of Gobstones, she was there watching, waiting for you and Barnaby to break. She made it her personal mission to force you into as many awkward situations as possible, trying to prove that it was all fake and Barnaby wasn’t actually into you. 

The more staged kisses you had to share, the more you held his hand and got used to the way it enveloped yours, the harder it was to tell what was fake and what was real. The first time he kissed you, you forgot you were pretending. You wrapped your hands in his hair and got lost in the moment, needing Merula’s snide voice to break you out of it. The hugs were getting longer, the glances during class becoming a way to converse without words. You felt yourself growing to appreciate Barnaby as a person, as a friend, and more. It wasn’t just pretend anymore. 

Of course, you weren’t the only one realizing that things were changing. Barnaby, as oblivious as he could be, was the first to notice it. Now that you were fake dating, everything with you felt more real. He didn’t just kiss you to prove that you were together, he wanted to kiss you. In fact, Barnaby preferred being around you when you were in public because it meant he could play with your hair and wrap his arm around you. He wanted it to be real. 

After a month, Merula and Ismelda seemingly convinced that the two of you were indeed together, Barnaby couldn’t take it anymore. He knew, deep down, that he didn’t just call you his girlfriend because you were there- he said it because it was what he’d wanted all along. It was getting harder for him to pretend he was sneaking into your room, or acting like it wasn’t a big deal when you called him the love of your life. It hurt- Barnaby wanted you to love him, not just pretend to. 

He found you sitting on the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, absentmindedly doodling in your notebook. No one else was in the hallway, so you didn’t lean up to kiss him, you just gave him a big smile. 

“Barn, I missed you!” you said, patting down next to you. Barnaby stood. 

“Y/N,” Barnaby said, desperately, “I can’t keep pretending.”

You raised your eyebrow at him as he grabbed your hands, looking deeply into your eyes. You didn’t know what was going on. 

“I’m in love with you, Y/N… for real,” he said, giving you a nervous smile. 

“I can’t lie, Barn,” you said quietly, “I’ve fallen for you, too.”

Barnaby was silent as you looked up at him, shyly waiting for a response. Suddenly, he grinned widely and pulled you into a deep kiss. Your eyelashes fluttered from the shock, but you couldn’t have been happier. When Barnaby pulled away, you both were blushing like Rowan when they’d answered a question wrong in Charms. 

“You know, it has been nice having a big strong boyfriend,” you said, smiling as you ran your fingers through Barnaby’s hair. 

“Same,” he said, smiling, “wait, no-”

You giggled, and kissed him softly. He smiled as he melted into it, kissing you back lovingly. Maybe these were technically the first real kisses you had with Barnaby, but they all had meant the entire world to you.

#harry potter #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hp hogwarts mystery #hphm #hogwarts mystery #barnaby lee #barnaby lee x reader #barnaby lee x mc #barnaby fanfic #barnaby lee imagine #merula snyde #rowan khanna #ismelda murk #fluff #barnaby fluff

[tumblebee-the-smol-bean]

hey, if you're not too busy, maybe secretly regressor logan getting so overstressed from planner changes and schedules that he slips right in front of roman in his room???💕

Thank you so much for the prompt first of all! I’m sorry it took me so long to answer.

Too much work, not enough sleep

Cg Roman Regressor Logan

Logan tapped his pencil against his glasses. He was so tired but also so close to being done with Thomas’s schedule. He took a second to look up from his work to the clock and sighed, he’d been working for well over fourteen hours now, but it was fine, he didn’t technically need food, even if he was really craving some Crofters right now...NO. No that could wait until he finished the schedule and he was almost done, he just needed to- “Hello your royal nerdness!” Great, Roman had dropped in and now he was interrupting Logan’s work. Just what he needed right now. He rolled his eyes and tried not to scream at Princey to just leave him alone. Instead he said in a calm voice, “I am quite busy at the moment Roman. Please take your business elsewhere for now.”

Roman scoffed and Logan flinched a bit. “Well you don’t have to be so rude about it. I just came to tell you that the plan for next week is changing.”

Logan froze. No. NO. he couldn’t have said that. He was so close to being done he wanted to cry. Big boys don’t cry, he tried to remind himself. Big Logan had to fix this, he couldn’t afford to cry and regress and throw a tantrum over a simple schedule change, Even if that’s exactly what he wanted to do. Besides, Roman was right there, he could control this, he had to. So he sighed and turned to him, setting down his pencil.  “What nature of schedule changes are we talking about?”

Roman grinned and plopped a few scattered pages of what looked more to be doodles than written out plans. 

“Well I’m just so glad you asked! You see Thomas has just been so bored lately and that is no fun at all, especially not for me, so I decided we’re going to enter daydream mode a few times to help solve this pesky little problem! Oh! I’m also helping him come up with a new song, it’s going to be sooooo good when we’re done!”

As Roman rambled on Logan became more and more frantic, shuffling through his papers and Roman’s doodles and trying to figure out where to put them. No, no no nononononono. This would shake up the entire schedule! He’d have to completely re-write the planner! 

He tugged at his hair in frustration as tears welled up in his eyes and he began to feel himself slip. NO. not right now! Never in front of the others!

Roman paused his rant when he saw that Logan was obviously distressed. “Logan, are you alright? You look upset.” “FINE!” Logan managed as he tried to usher Roman out the door. “M’ fine! Go ‘way!”

Roman definitely wasn’t leaving now. Logan seemed really upset. He turned back around instead of going out the door like Logan clearly wanted him to.  “Pocket protector you do not seem to be ‘gucci’ so to speak are you sure-”

And thats when Logan broke. It was all too much and the stress of the last several hours along with his exhaustion and sudden panic over the new planner changes and not being able to get Roman to leave crashed down on him and he fully regressed.  “GO ‘WAY!” he screeched before crumpling into a ball on the floor and beginning to sob.

“Whoa!” Roman quickly shut the door behind him, figuring Logan wouldn’t want the others to see him like this but he didn’t leave. Logan clearly needed some help. Instead he crouched down next to him and rested a hand on his back.

“Logan what’s the matter?” he asked softly, trying to figure out the root of the problem so he could fix it. But Logan only wailed harder.  “S-S-so many changes! nd’ you not supposed to be here when m’ like this!”

Roman was puzzled, why was Logan talking like that? He was normally extremely well spoken and used big words Roman didn’t even understand half the time. 

“What do you mean’like this’?” he asked instead of commenting on his speech. 

“Like...like when m’ small.” he sniffled and clung onto Roman, his small side winning over and just wanting comfort and affection and to forget about all the stressful stuff big him had to deal with.

“When you’re....Oooh...” Roman was finally struck with the realization of what was going on.

“Are you regressed Lolo?”

Logan looked up in shock before slowly nodding his head. How had Roman known? he hadn’t even known before he practically broke his computer doing research on it.

Roman smiled. “That’s alright bud, Janus regresses too and sometimes I help Remus look after him. Do you want me to watch you for a bit?”

Logan was trying to take in several peices of information at once. One, Roman didn’t think this was weird. Two, Janus regressed as well, and three....Roman...was offering to look after him? He had always had what if thoughts in regards to having someone to act as a caretaker towards him when regressed but he normally pushed them aside and ignored them. Afterall, who would want to watch him?

But here Roman was, soft smile and outstretched hand and Logan couldn’t help but to launch himself into his waiting arms and whisper sniffle, “Really?”

Roman cocked his head to the side and smoothed down Logan’s hair, “Really buddy, I don’t mind.” he smiled and the answer caused Logan to practically melt out of sheer happiness. “Can you tell me how old you are though so I know how to take care of you?” Roman had only ever helped out Remus when watching Jan but had never done this on his own. However he did remember that Janus had an age range he could regress within that often changed, and with it how Remus took care of him did as well.

Logan has to think for a second. It’s rather hard for him to tell sometimes, but Roman is patient and eventually he held up three fingers.

“You’re three?” he asked to double check, Logan nodded softly but didn’t say anything else, still a bit shy.

Roman smiled wide and hefted him up into his arms. causing him to squeal in surprise that soon morphed into excitement.

“Can you tell me what made you regress little prince?” he asked first and foremost. Janus sometimes regressed just for fun but he could be triggered sometimes when he was upset and considering Logan’s outburst Roman assumed it was the later.

Logan cooed happily at the nickname before frowning a bit and whining softly, pressing his face into Roman’s tunic.

“Lots a work...almos finish nd’ then it changed!” he sounded really upset and Roman realized his fault.

He rubbed Logan’s back and sighed. “I’m sorry little one, I should have talked to you before, we can save the daydreaming for next week.” The longer he looked at Logan’s papers he started to realize he hadn’t seen him out all day.

 “Sweet little prince,” he began, successfully gaining Logan’s attention. “Have you been working all day? I didn’t see you come down to eat.”

Logan nodded. “Fouwteen hours, twenty seven minutes nd six seconds”

Roman tried and failed not to look shocked. “Well we can’t have that! That’s much too long for little princes to be working!”

Logan looks surprised at this, he always worked like that. Coffee, computer, three or four hours of sleep and a small snack then repeat. “i’ is?”

Roman shook his head he was definitely going to have a talk with big Logan about his work habits. “Yes, but we can talk about it more when you’re big again, for now we need to get some food in you.”

He makes sure Logan is well supported before carrying him downstairs, luckily it was late so Logan didn’t make a fuss like he would have had he thought there was a possibility of anyone seeing him while regressed. Instead he just swung his feet when Roman sat him on the counter to open up the fridge and looked around. He wasn’t usually in the rest of the mindscape when he was small. Stay in his room and his secret stayed hidden. He only came out when he needed to use the restroom and even then it was a mad dash.

Roman finished preparing some mac n cheese for him and set it down in front of him along with one of Jan’s old sippy cups that he didn’t tend to use, but it was decorated in stars and planets and seemed perfect for Logan.

He looked at it for a second before bouncing excitedly when he saw the space pattern “Staws!”

“Yes baby, stars.” Roman chuckled before kissing his forehead and taking him to the table to eat.

He was still a bit shy to use his sippy cup in front of Roman but he assured Logan that he’d seen Janus use them a billion times and sometimes even bottles when he was very tiny so he shrugged and drank the juice contents. He also ate his macaroni and made a bit of a mess but Roman just cleaned it up with a small smile.

“Alright Star, I think it’s bedtime for you.” he tutted as he scooped him up.

“Noooooooo, don wanna sleep.” Apparently big Logan and small Logan had that in common.

“Yeeeeeeeeees” Roman replied as he carried him up to his room. “little boys need their sleep and I happen to know that this little boy hasn’t slept alot as of late.”

Logan grumbled but relented, Roman wasn’t wrong and he was really tired, he stifled a small yawn. He still saw it however and hummed with a smile. Logan really was adorable.

When they reached his room he set him on the bed and tilted his head, Logan tilted his back, mirroring Roman which was so adorable he almost cooed. instead he snapped his fingers. “Ah, I know what’s missing” He snapped again and Logan was dressed in soft pajamas with planets and galaxies adorning them. The small side pet the soft fabric in awe and his eyes lit up at the planets. “Thank you Roro!” he half whispered, still engrossed in his new pj’s. The prince chuckled “of course little astronaut, I’m not done though, you can’t very well go to sleep without a soft cuddle buddy now can you?” and suddenly Logan was holding a star plush, it was almost half his size and impossibly squishy. Needless to say he loved it.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“No problem little one.” came the chuckled reply as Roman tucked him into bed. “now try and get some sleep”

Roman went to turn out the lights but Logan spoke up softly one last time,

“Roro?”

“Yes my little prince?”

“You be my cuddle buddy too?”

Roman smiled and slid under the covers, snuggling Logan (Platonically or I’ll stomp you with my hooves)

“of course star.”

#Age Regression #sfw age regression #agere sfw #sanders sides agere #logan sanders #roman sanders #caregiver roman #agere logan

[dragonsaphirareads]

Passing Notes

Day 13 of @tsshipmonth2020 Fluffuary

Ship: Intrulogical

AU: High School

Word Count: 3312

Summary: Logan takes an elective science course his senior year, and ends up sitting next to his friend’s crude, immature brother who insists on passing him notes every class period. Eventually, Logan realizes the hidden message he’d been missing.

(Like listening to podfics? You can listen to this oneshot on my YT channel here!)

“I still can’t believe you took a science class instead of a free period! You’re such an overachieving nerd!” Roman exclaimed as they stood around Logan’s locker. Patton elbowed him in the side as Logan rolled his eyes.

“He’s allowed to do whatever he wants with his schedule!” Patton defended.

“I know, but we could have all had free time together! And now we’re split!” Roman whined. Logan wasn’t fazed, all too used to his dramatics at this point.

“We already spend hours together after school for drama, I think you’ll survive an hour and a half free period without me.” Logan said, checking his written schedule once more for the room number before slamming his locker shut. “But if you truly want to see me more, I’m sure you could go get your schedule changed.”

Roman shook his head a little too quickly while making a face, and the other two snickered at him. Patton glanced at the clock hanging in the hall and frowned. “You’d better get going Lo, you’re gonna be late!”

Logan checked and nodded. “You’re right. I’ll see you two after school.” They waved as he headed off towards the science hallway, thankfully arriving with a few minutes to spare.

Every spot at the lab tables had a small slip of paper folded into a tent on it, and looking closer he saw they were name tags. Right, he’d heard that this teacher was a fan of arranged seating charts, especially at the beginning of a new semester. He found his name and was thankful that it was at the front of the room. Sitting in the back made it harder to focus, mostly because the students sitting back there didn’t usually care to be in class.

He took his seat and set down his notebook and pencil case, as well as the script for the spring musical that he still needed to read through. As other students came into the room, he flipped it open and skimmed the first few pages.

A minute later, the bell rang and the teacher walked into the room, welcoming them and introducing himself. Then, as he was passing out copies of the syllabus, the door opened and a disheveled, very familiar face waltzed in.

“Sorry I’m late!” He announced, and the teacher just sighed, shaking his head.

“Just... take your seat, please.” He told him, pointing at the only open seat... right next to Logan. The young man grinned, happily bouncing over to him and slamming his stuff down on the table. “Quietly, Remus.”

“My bad!” Remus sung, not at all apologetic. He then turned to Logan, still with that wide, slightly unhinged grin. “Hi Logan! Didn’t know you were taking this class!”

“Hello, Remus.” Logan greeted neutrally, suddenly feeling a small pang of regret at not taking that free period after all.

He wasn’t exactly strangers with Remus, but he wasn’t close to him either. Their interactions boiled down to the few times he and Patton hung out at Roman’s house and Remus was there. Roman didn’t exactly get along well with his twin, so he tended to spend time with his friends elsewhere.

As such, Logan didn’t know much about Remus. He knew he was loud and crude, disruptive in class, extremely creative with his language, and he was friends with Virgil and Ernest, two other seniors who were part of the drama department.

Logan wondered if the teacher had possibly placed them at the same table for a reason, since Logan was an “overachieving teacher’s pet”, according to Roman. Perhaps he thought he might be able to encourage Remus to focus.

Unlikely, considering the other kid had already pulled out his notebook and started doodling. Logan shrugged. If he was drawing, he would at least be quiet. He opened his own notebook, making notes of anything important the teacher said about assignment deadlines or test dates, ignoring the loud scratching of Remus’s pencil beside him.

That is, until there was a loud rip of paper and a moment later, something hit Logan’s elbow. He stared at it curiously, then up at Remus who had gone back to his doodling, a corner of his notebook paper conspicuously missing.

Logan grabbed it and put it in front of him, debating whether or not to open it or just throw it away. Either way, he would save it for the end of class. He wouldn’t let Remus distract him.

Two more folded paper pieces hit him over the course of the class period, and each time Logan took it and placed it carefully in the pile in front of him. He could feel Remus getting frustrated at him, but he didn’t let that bother him.

Once the bell finally rang and class was over, Logan stuffed the notes in his pocket to deal with at a later time. He grabbed his things and left the classroom while Remus was called aside by the teacher, heading to his locker.

Roman and Patton met him there, having already gotten their stuff from their own lockers.

“So!” Roman said, leaning against the neighboring locker smugly. “How was your class?”

“...Interesting. Were you aware that Remus was taking the same class?” Logan asked, and Roman blinked.

“Huh? No? Wait, he is? Are you sure it wasn’t someone who just looked like him?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You two are identical twins, Roman. I’m very familiar with what you look like, and I had a very close view because the teacher put him next to me.”

“Aww shit, that sucks! I’m so sorry Lo, was he annoying?”

“Well, he was quiet, for the most part. He did keep passing me these notes, though.”

Patton tilted his head, curious. “Notes? What do they say?”

“Probably something gross.” Roman grumbled.

Logan pulled the ripped pieces out of his pocket, holding them in his palm. “I didn’t read them during class, so I’m not sure what they say.”

His friends each grabbed one, unfolding them as Logan finished packing his backpack. When he pulled it out of his locker and turned back, they both had odd looks on their faces. “What’s wrong?”

“Um, well... there’s nothing written on them!” Patton said, trying to be chipper. Roman rolled his eyes, showing Logan the paper.

On it was a pencil sketch of... something. Logan couldn’t actually tell what it was supposed to be - some kind of catlike creature, maybe? But it also had fins like a fish, and horns...

“Hmm.” Logan hummed, and Roman crumpled the piece in his hand, huffing.

“What the hell?! He’s so weird, you should just toss ‘em Lo, don’t encourage him by taking them.”

“Maybe you could just tell him to keep them? They are well drawn, he should draw them in a sketchbook so he can look back at them!” Patton suggested.

Logan shrugged, shoving his own shred of paper back into his pocket while Roman wasn’t looking. Sure, the drawings were strange, and they didn’t seem to be based in any kind of reality, but they were fascinating all the same. It was clear Remus had a talent for drawing - the shading on the horned cat/fish creature made it look almost real.

“We should be going - Mr. Sanders wanted us to be there early today.” Logan changed the topic, and thankfully his friends allowed it. The three of them walked down to the auditorium together, quickly forgetting about Remus and his strange behavior.

All of them except for Logan, who couldn’t quite push from his mind the excited, child-like glee in Remus’s eyes when he had passed that first note across the table.

~

It became a routine after a while. Logan would go to his fourth hour class, Remus would come in late and immediately start drawing in his notebook, occasionally passing the notes to Logan, who would stash them in his pocket. He didn’t throw them away - as disturbing as some of the sketches could be, Logan could tell that Remus wasn’t trying to gross him out. What he did want though, he wasn’t entirely sure.

He wasn’t sure, that is, until Logan was sitting backstage one day watching the actors run through the show and he pulled out one of the notes to examine it. It was some kind of tentacled monster, most likely inspired by their recent lectures about deep sea life. Again, Logan had to marvel at the technical skill behind it. Both of the Prince twins were incredibly talented, apparently, because Roman had his art hanging up all over his room and had been displayed in the school several times as well.

Something shifted behind him, and a voice spoke beside his head. “Is that Remus’s?”

Logan jumped, folding the note quickly and turning to look at who had snuck up on him. Ernest, the head of costume design, who had a knowing smile on his face.

“What did you say?” Logan asked, playing dumb. He was a little embarrassed to be caught staring at the note, even though logically he knew he had no reason to be. Ernest rolled his eyes, pointing at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

“That note. It’s from Remus, right?”

The stage manager quickly glanced out on stage, gauging where his friends were. He really didn’t want either of them to walk in on this conversation, especially since they had advised him to simply get rid of the sketches. Thankfully, neither of them would be on his side of the stage for a while. Logan sighed.

“Yes, it is. He’s been giving them to me during class. I’m not certain why, though.”

The costume designer snickered. “Maybe he wants to impress you with his incredible drawing skills.” He said sarcastically.

Logan slipped the note back into his pocket. “Well, they are incredible, in a technical sense. He has a very impressive grasp of anatomy and shading.” He tried to speak neutral about it, lest Ernest get the wrong idea.

The other hummed. “I wouldn’t know. He doesn’t show his drawings to anyone.”

At that, Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “What? But he’s been doing this for nearly a month now... and I never asked for him to show me his drawings.”

Ernest pressed his lips together tightly, but it wasn’t out of anger. There was something else behind it... “I dunno, Logan... you’re smart, I’m sure you can figure out what’s going on in his weird little head.”

“But you’re his friend, aren’t you?”

He laughed, walking away. “You think he tells me anything?”

Logan huffed, turning back to what was happening on stage. He did know - he had to know. Ernest was acting too suspicious to not know what was going on in his friend’s head. But clearly, he wasn’t going to tell him.

He tried to put it out of his head, but something was bothering him. Ernest had known the sketch was Remus’s, which told him that he must have seen Remus’s drawings at least a few times in order to recognize it. But if Remus was as secretive as he sounded with his sketches, then that would be difficult.

So maybe he wasn’t that secretive. Even so, there was something weird about what had been happening every time they were in class. He wasn’t an artist, but he knew Roman, and he knew that Roman was protective of his sketchbook, and almost never ripped anything out of it. If he did draw something for someone else, it was on a dedicated page that he tore out.

He threaded his fingers through his hair, frustrated. It didn’t make any sense, but then again, Remus had never made much sense to him.

Tomorrow he had science. He vowed that he would watch Remus a little closer, to try and figure out why he was exhibiting this extremely odd behavior.

~

Logan got to class early, pulling out a book and skimming it as he watched other students filter into the classroom. Then, for the first time since the beginning of the semester, Remus actually arrived three minutes before the bell rang.

As always, the other student shot a wide, toothy smile his way before cracking open his notebook, noticeably thinner than it had been a month ago, and sketching immediately.

Logan watched him out of the corner of his eye, just in case Remus noticed what he was doing, and what he was seeing didn’t make any sense.

For his sketch, Remus didn’t start with any kind of skeleton or outline, which Logan would have expected. Instead, he drew a distinct shape, and was working out from there. But it wasn’t a circle or square, like he would have thought..

It was a heart?

Logan eventually abandoned his facade of reading as he watched Remus draw, expanding the heart into a head shape, adding too many eyes and a wild mane that masked the starting shape.

By the time he was done and tearing out the drawing, it was fifteen minutes into class and Logan had done nothing but stare at Remus’s hand as he drew. He had to force himself to look forward as Remus folded it and tossed it his way, immediately starting another. Once again, he began with a heart, but this time it was much smaller and ended up turning into a nose.

Why was he drawing hearts? Was that just a part of his drawing process, or was there something more to it? Did it have to do with how he would tear out every drawing and give it to him?

Should Logan respond, now that he knew this? Remus had been giving him these notes for over a month now, and he’d never said a word. Would it be rude to mention it now, especially since he’d only noticed it because he was watching over his shoulder?

He couldn’t tell his friends. Roman didn’t like his brother and Patton was wary of him as well. And he didn’t know Virgil or Ernest well enough to approach them with something as big as this, although he had a feeling they were both in on whatever game Remus was playing.

While he was pondering, the bell rang and he broke out of his trance to see Remus bouncing out of the classroom, with three more folded notes sitting in front of him. Logan shook his head, blinking rapidly to wake himself up. As he was gathering his things, he heard the teacher call his name. “Hm? Y-Yes?”

The teacher’s eyes were concerned. “I noticed you didn’t open your notebook today. Do you need me to move you to a different spot?”

“Huh? No, why would you?”

“I saw you watching Remus this class. You’re a very bright student and I want to make sure you’re not being distracted.”

Logan shook his head quickly. “No, no, I’m not. I’m just not feeling very well today, I’ll be better next week, I promise.” He couldn’t get moved now - not when he was so close to figuring out this puzzle!

The teacher hummed, accepting his answer. “Alright then. Don’t hesitate to tell me if you think you’d benefit from a seat change.”

“I won’t, thank you.” Logan agreed, rushing out of the classroom and towards his locker where Roman and Patton were waiting. He made up an excuse of needing to ask a question about an assignment, shoving the notes deeper into his pockets. They didn’t question him, letting him know that Mr. Sanders had gotten sick and that rehearsal was canceled.

Never had he been so thankful that their director had a penchant for getting sick often. Logan ran up to his room as soon as he got home and pulled the notes from his pocket, throwing them onto his desk onto the sizable pile already sitting there. He took a seat and grabbed a permanent marker, then began opening them up one by one. In each one, he looked for any heart shapes. And as he went through, he found at least one in every single drawing he had been given by Remus. In one, a drawing of a two headed dragon, the creature had heart shapes spines trailing down its back.

A heart on every single one. No two drawings were the same besides that simple fact. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before - with them traced in marker, they looked so obvious.

He wanted to ask what it meant, but he knew the answer was obvious. Now the only question was what he should do now.

Logan pushed the handdrawn notes away, reaching for his own notebook and cracking it open. It was time to plan, something he did best.

~

Tuesday, he was ready. His heart was racing the entire day, he was both excited and nervous for what he was going to do. Once he did it, he knew things would change. But after hours of planning over the weekend, he was certain it would be for the best.

Finally, it was fourth hour. Again, Remus came to class on time, and again, he started drawing for Logan. It was difficult for Logan to pay attention, but he managed to take decent notes and avoid looking over at Remus. Instead, he kept his eyes on the clock in the corner.

A minute before the bell would ring, he put his plan into action. Logan turned to a fresh page at the back of his notebook and he did his best to tear out a piece discreetly so Remus wouldn’t notice. He jotted something down quickly, and just before the bell rang he nudged it over to Remus, making sure he saw it.

The other student blinked, grabbing it slowly as if it was some kind of illusion, and unfolded it carefully. Then he got an odd look on his face, and he glanced up to see Logan smiling at him as the bell rang.

“Logan?” Remus spoke, the first thing he’d actually said to him all semester since that first day.

“Meet me outside?” Logan asked, holding his things with one arm. Remus nodded vigorously, slamming his notebook closed and swiping all of his pencils into his bag in one swoop.

“Do you mean it?” Remus exclaimed as they stepped outside and stood to the side.

“I want to understand you, Remus.” Logan clarified, looking quickly at the crumpled note in the other’s hand. “You’ve been giving me these notes all semester, and it took until last Friday to understand why.”

“You took forever!” Remus complained playfully. Logan pursed his lips.

“Why didn’t you simply tell me, if you were so impatient? That would have been much faster, and you’ve never struck me as shy.” Remus huffed at the suggestion, crossing his arms.

“Roman told me he didn’t want me ‘messing with’ his friends, so I decided that as long as you talked to me first, he can’t get mad at me!”

Logan opened his mouth to argue that flawed logic, then decided against it. “I see.”

“So, do you mean it?”

“Do I mean what?”

“Don’t mess with me! You gave me a note with a heart drawn on it Logan, I obviously mean do you like me?! Do you have a crush on me like I’ve had one on you for literally years?!”

That took Logan aback for a moment. Years? Really? “I’m afraid I don’t know you well enough to say I do, Remus.”

Remus’s face fell, but Logan wasn’t done. “I believe now is the time you offer to spend some time with me so I can learn more about you.”

“Are you... asking me to ask you on a date?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, and Remus laughed.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you! Ok, well then, will you go out on a date with me Logan?”

“Why, of course. It’s about time!”

#intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #tsshipmonth2020 #saphira writes #saphira writes ts

[vydante]

Restart | Avengers x Male! Reader | 10

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: multiple)

Plot: Dr. Strange said there was only one possibility of winning the battle against Thanos.

But when (Name) is forced into the past and into his younger body, he’s suddenly given the chance to start over and prevent the future from happening again.

So which route are you going to take? Are you going to risk the future and take preventative measures, or live life with the Avengers for the next 4 years, knowing what will soon come?

A/N: Important A/N at end. Short, but we get to see Rhodey!

Uncle Rhodey visited today.

You don't actually call him that- you're old enough now where, if you started, it definitely would be less endearing and a bit weird, but nowadays it was always either Rhodey or Jimmy. Besides, it's even weirder considering you're technically almost 30, so there's that. Of course, back then though, there were moments when you slipped up, much to your embarrassment and his amusement. 

You'd either be sleep-deprived or distracted most of the time. Mumbling a tired 'Hey Uncle Rhodey' and not noticing the grin on the faces of whoever was in the room with the two of you. It didn't happen often- maybe once every other blue moon- but it happened nonetheless.

But despite being literal years since you've called him that, this was one of those moments where you just couldn't help yourself.

"What's up squirt? Looks like you've seen a ghost."

(Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Fast. Oh God, why was he falling so fast?

"Uh, little," there's a strained grunt, "Little help here? I'm- I'm flying dead stick...!")

"Uncle Rhodey..."

Right in front of you stood Rhodey, who grins at you with underlying concern in his eyes. He looks good, no matter how much shit you always gave him for wearing polo shirts. Definitely less aged, too... Not as tired. There's a pep in his step you forgot he had as he moves in to give you a hug. 

("Rhodes!" Your ears strain as your dad yells into the commlink, though that was nearly drowned out by the drum of your heart thundering in your chest. High in the sky, you take to an instant nose dive and descend.

With each pulse, Rhodey's only falling and falling and falling, and he's not slowing down any time soon. He doesn't respond to your dad. Faint sounds of what may be him losing his breath make you scream out for him too.

You're opposite of Tony as you both try and catch up with the suit. In the corner of your eyes, you see Falcon diving down too. Mother fucker.

You fall and fall, and so does Rhodey. 

The distance between you and Rhodey gets closer and closer, but so does the distance between Rhodey and the ground. It's a race, you bitterly thought in hindsight. You vs. Tony vs. Wilson.

Only Rhodey wins first place.)

You knew it's been years since his fall. But even then, every time you looked at Rhodey, flashes of a falling metal suit lingers in the back of your head. The pounding in your head only gets worse when Rhodey's standing in front of you without leg braces on.

"Aw, guessed someone missed his uncle, huh?"

You know he's just teasing you, but God did you want to tell him how absolutely true he was. 

(You ignore DAHLIA's concerned whisper of 'elevated stress above normal parameters.')

Wordlessly, you hug him maybe a bit tighter than you normally would. You try to find the words to reply back, something snarky ("This 'squirt' can give you the smackdown of your life, Jimmy."), maybe even something honest ("Yeah, I did. I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so much."). Just anything would do, but the flashes of a human-sized crater with a red suit hovering over makes you want to hurl, so you just kept your mouth shut and buried your head in his shoulder. You feel him pat your head gently.

(The thud echoes in your ears. 

You're, what? Maybe 70 feet above him?

But yet you heard that thud as if you were dead center of the crater.

Time slows down to forever as you finally touch down and sprint over to your dad, ignoring Wilson's approaching figure.

Tony nods at you ("Rhodes is in critical condition, ambulance ETA 5 minutes...", says DAHLIA), but he says nothing as Wilson mutters an apology. Dad's fuming, and quite frankly, so are you.

You stalked over to him and socked Wilson right in the jaw, gauntlet still on, and took no shame in the satisfaction you felt as you watch him get knocked back a good distance. It's even better when he doesn't get up.

Good. 

As much as Rhodey would admonish you for your train of thought, you'd have no trouble forgiving Wilson if he was the one lying unconscious in the crater instead.)

"Oh yeah, did I not tell you?" You let go of Rhodey but keep in close proximity to him as your dad strides in holding a StarkPad. He greets you with a kiss to the cheek, and you weakly push him away with shaking hands. You pray no one notices your short breath and sweaty palms. He chuckles and stands next to Rhodey, who's already got an exasperated but amused smile as he looks at Tony.

"Rhodey-bear's got military leave- what was it, 2 weeks?"

"3, actually. For a so-called genius, you sure do suck at getting information right."

You stand there, still uncharacteristically silent as you watch them banter. They start walking but you stayed back, watching them strut out of the room as if no one else existed.

You didn't follow them as everything around you blurred; all except for Rhodey's legs. Legs that weren't being supported by a pair of Stark leg prosthetic. Legs that hadn't been completely detached of all feeling and movement from the waist down.

Legs that were still healthy.

You haphazardly leaned against the wall and tried to focus on the floor as the walls wobble around you. The pounding in your head is practically tearing your skull apart.

(The file haunts you.

You gaze at the hologram floating in front of you, and you desperately try to look elsewhere.

There are pictures of potted plants adorning the files. There's a bunch, and none of them really correlate with one another. There's also a series of pictures, remnants of an explosion and ashes of what used to be a pot sprinkled in there too. There are ones of humans- people you don't recognize save for a few. And again, there's also pictures of an explosion, black ashes covering walls with no remains next to them.

Your finger itches to reach out and open the file further, damn near desperate to do anything to rectify what happened to Rhodey. It burns in your soul, knowing that a solution was just this close to you, so damn near close, yet so far away.

You didn't need to open this file if none of this happened. If Rhodey hadn't been paralyzed from the fall. Rage seeps into your fingers as you grip the table painfully, knuckles white.

If only Romanoff wasn't so prone to Roger's baby blues and knew how to keep to aside. If only Rogers had just signed the damn Accords. If only Maximoff could just get it through her thick skull Tony only wanted to keep her safe from the public.

If only Barton just kept his head down and stayed in retirement. If only Wilson didn't dodge, damned what'd have happened to him.

If only...

(If only you had been faster.)

A scream erupts deep within you as you swipe everything off of your table. You slam your fist into the table repeatedly, not noticing the red smearing, the searing pain, or FRIDAY and DAHLIA's concerned voices as your wails drown the world out.

You don't notice how Pepper abruptly shows up to your lab, disheveled in her pajamas and hugging you from behind tight. You don't notice how she managed to bypass your blackout mode and how the glass window panes clear up again. You don't notice the wetness seeping into your back, or the slight shake of her trembling hands.

You don't notice how you stopped screaming and started shaking, sobbing into your mother's shoulder as she whispered nothing short of comforting words in your ears. 

You don't even notice Rhodey's gaze as he arrives, unsteady in his leg braces, looking at you and Pepper with a haunted, condemned expression.)

You jolted out of your thoughts as your dad calls out to you from down the hallway. You try to steady your voice, but with each sharp intake, it's not as easy as said.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, uh- comin'! Coming..."

Ignoring your shaking hands, you jog over to where they are, pushing and repressing those memories back deep into the corners of your mind. That's a whole can of worms you'd be more than happy to ignore indefinitely.

Now that you think about it, it’s kind of cruel being told that your death was necessary to win a war. Out of millions and millions of possibilities, you had to be taken out of the equation for it to work.

Alone in your lab, you lay placid among your beanbag chairs. It's been a few days since Rhodey's come by to visit, a few days since your sudden migraine that was your flashbacks. Nothing much's happened since then. You hung out with Rhodey, saw glimpses of the other Avengers here and there, but other than that... There wasn't anything that was urgent in your schedule.

And that deeply unsettled you.

Things've been moving at too slow of a pace, and quite frankly, you've only got so much time before the clock ticks to zero. And in hindsight, there was a lot that you had to be prepared for.

There was Project Insight, Ultron, the Accords...

And there were the individual people themselves you had to worry about. The twins, T'Challa and T'Chaka- along with Wakanda as a whole-, Peter, Strange, Danvers...

You already feel a dull thumping on your forehead just thinking about it all, and you didn't even mention everyone else.

Slowly getting up from your beanbag chair, you trudged to your main seat and rolled over to your tables. It's a mess; there are papers strewn about, some having to do with starting your senior year in high school, others are of mission reports. There are even stupid little sticky note doodles while you were procrastination once; a testament to how much time you've got, and how much of it was spent wasted.

You pushed all of them out of the way in one sweep, uncaring if any of it fell on the floor. 

"J.A.R.V.I.S., blackout mode."

“Of course, young sir.”

The window panels darken, and J.A.R.V.I.S.’ voice quiets. The accent lights in the corners of your lab change from a calming pale blue to a neutral white, an indicator you’ve set up within the past few days. It helps tell you which A.I. is currently in the room. You know that if J.A.R.V.I.S. knew, he wouldn't say anything to anyone else (particularly your dad) about DAHLIA, but just in case.

Eventually, you’ll introduce the two sometime. DAHLIA says she doesn’t care if she meets J.A.R.V.I.S. or not, so you pretend not to notice how much lighter her voice is every time you mention her ‘uncle’ of sorts.

"DAHLIA, you up?”

It was satisfying to watch the neutral white LED lights blink into lime green. It means ‘new beginnings’, or so DAHLIA says. It’s nice in a way- that was the same color you had assigned to her in the future, too. Only this time it was by her own virtue.

”I can't remember a time where I wasn't.”

You rolled your eyes.

The sass.

"You, start up a new project and title it 'Renaissance'. I think now's the time to kick it into high gear."

The holograms around you flicker back to life, a soft green illuminating everything in your sight. A distinct folder pops up with the right title and opens up to a blank file. You’re almost buzzing in your seat as you began creating and titling new documents.

”Sure thing, doll. Anything you want me to start beforehand?"

You pause.

There were lots of things you needed to get done first before you even thought about doing anything else. There were people to recruit, a whole nation you needed to get in contact with, and the drafts of the Accords to be written.

But, for now, you’ll start small.

"Yeah- I, uh, need you to start a global search for someone.”

She hums, and in the corner of your eyes, you see a new file pop up. There’s a rendering of the globe with millions of dots littering the countries visible to you- there are even ones around the planet as well. Cameras and available satellites, you realize.

Atta girl.

”Their name?"

A pair of blank steel blue eyes flash in your mind. Once did anger bubble in your throat when you saw them, but now only pity is what's left in you as you recognize nothing but emptiness behind his eyes. While this was for the greater good that he was found as soon as possible, you'd be lying if you said it wasn't also for the man himself.

The sooner you get to him, the sooner he gets the proper help he deserves.

Reeling yourself back in, you promptly ignored your shaking hands and the flashes of a gleaming arm wrapping itself around your throat, eyes cold and uncaring.

”James Buchanan Barnes.”

A/N: This chapter is the final chapter of the first 'arc', so I've decided. There is a high chance that this story will not be canon complicit from now on. (Also, this chapter is shorter compared to the last chapter, and not as high quality- for that, I'm relatively sorry, but not really.)

Word of warning, we might also get more Team Cap critical (as shown in this chapter), but I promise if that's the case, I'll try not to make it a reoccurring theme in this story. 'Resentment is corrosive, and I (live for it) hate it.' - T.S.

I'm planning on bumping up the speed at which the story is progressing- like, fast. My plan is that the next arc (10 canon chapters, maybe some special chapters) we'll deal with CA:TWS, AOU, and maybe CA:CW all in one go if I go with my current plans for AOU. (That also means each chapter will be significantly longer, too.) 

And as for the romance- I'll also try to include more scenes that aren't as subtle as hell (like the one with Steve and Thor before the last chapter). We'll see what goes on beyond that as we progress. Feel free to leave any suggestions as to how the plot should progress (or even suggestions for the romantic scenes lol). :)

Masterlist

Tagged: @unsolvetheheckoutofit

#avengers #avengers x male reader #avengers x reader #male reader #male reader insert #rhodey #james rhodes #jarvis #tony stark

[trekkele]

36 and 69 for the trope mashup thing if you can swing it? Fandom of your choice

36. Text/letter fic and 69. Flirting under fire.

It’s not so much that Agent Carter is technically his CO, or that it would be un-professional, it’s just-

Ok look, you could cut the sexual tension with a fucking knife, it wasn’t like him and Bucky, who were so close it was like trying to untangle a little golden chain - were they brothers? were they lovers? no one could tell, they were just easy around each other in a way that made you homesick if you had family and jealous if you didn’t.

But Cap and Agent Carter… that was like trying to ignore a barn with munitions stored, on fire. Sure you could, and would, but only idiots stand with their backs to an explosion - who wants to miss the show?

But she is his CO and he is the most recognizable face at camp. So everyone else watching, waiting for them to just fucking kiss, was about as frustrated as they were. And they were frustrated.

Meetings and the occasional solo missions could only do so much. 

But Steve still had to write up exhaustive reports, twice, for the SSR (and Peggy) and for Phillips, (who had a pack of ciggies and a chocolate bar riding on those two kissing at new years), and far be it from him to let the opportunity go to waste.

Scrap paper was easy enough to find, paper clips a little harder, but he just swiped some from Howard, who was busy ripping something apart again and making mistakes in his math.

Peggy smirked the day after he handed her his first ‘modified’ report, thanking him for the fascinating read. Phillips just rolled his eyes and muttered something about being too old for this kind of dancing around.

(He might have locked them in an office a few weeks later. Although no one ever proved anything)

After the plane, after everything, Peggy found the last report he had submitted tucked under some maps on her desk. Scrap papers attached throughout, with pithy comments and little cartoons, places where she would have done better or been useful, the occasional story of what the howlies had really gotten up to, set up like a sunday funny and signed with a star.

She never submitted it, and no one ever came looking under the cloud of grief the camp had settled into.

(Bonus not so sad ending: Later, after waking up and settling in and Fury tossing him some missions, maybe out of curiosity and maybe out of pity, Steve doesn’t even realize he’s kept doing it, Post-Its scattered throughout his reports with the same cartoons and sarcastic commentary he used to leave for Peggy. 

It isn’t until months later, when he spots one of his doodles, of Maria Hill kicking someone in the face while sipping her coffee, attached to the monitor on her desk, that he realizes what he’s been doing. Fury is the one who asks him why he stopped. 

“Its the one fucking thing that makes these reports bearable Rogers, the fuck did you think I didn’t mention it for?”)

fanfic trope mash-up

#asks #ask game #have another one so ask me some more while i work! #steggy #this is not fury/steve #this is just fury having a sense of humor and helping steve cope how he can #marvel like its 2012 #implied steve/peggy/bucky

[marvelmadam08]

Jellybeans

Part of 100 Days of Marvel

Prompt 54: Don’t lick it/ Prompt 93: What’s behind your back

Synopsis: Chris eats a bunch of your candy before an interview, unaware that they're edibles.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety attacks, drug use, swearing, bad reaction to drugs

A/N: I do not know if Chris actually takes medication for anxiety, this is just a fanfiction. Also have no idea what he’s saying in the GIF below, but I’m assuming it’s ‘Fried eggs’

~~~~~

To say you had a hard time speaking in public would be an understatement. Back when you were in school, if you had to give a presentation you'd stare at your classmates’ shoes the entire time. Which could've been linked to the small shoe obsession you had now, but that was a different story.

So how did you managed to make it this far in your acting career without a complete nervous breakdown during press tours and meet and greets? Edibles, medically approved, and perfectly safe. Not enough to get you completely incoherent, but just enough to calm your nerves, as long as you took the prescribed amount.

That's where you were now, in your dressing room, sneaking a few 'special' jellybeans, just before you and your other cast members had to take the stage and speak in front of at least a thousand fans and reporters.

"You okay?" Chris came up behind you, resting his chin on the top of your head, meeting your eyes in the mirror

"Yeah, what about you?" 

You knew how bad his anxiety was, there were times when his medication wasn’t enough to calm him and you had to pull him off to the side and help him get out of his head. When it was you, Chris would do the same, distracting you with inappropriate jokes and giving you his hand to draw small doodles on. It was how your friendship worked. Although you wished it would go further than ‘just friends’ but again that’s another story for another day.

“I’m good.” he glanced down at your hand “Ooh jellybeans.”

“Nope.” you smacked his hand away, sealing the bag shut “None for you.”

“Rude, if I had candy I’d share with you.” he gasped in pretend shock

“Good thing I’m not you.”

You knew Chris wasn’t a stranger to marijuana, but he always said it was in his party days and he would never do it again, which is why you never told him about your personal coping methods. 

“Hey guys, five minutes to go, we need you out here.” the stagehand tells you two

You carelessly tossed the bag of jellybeans on top of your purse, before pulling Chris out of the room. He tells you something about leaving his phone behind and having to run back to get it. While you waited for him to get back, Sebastian and Anthony walk up to greet you.

“First stop on the press tour, you ready Miss director?” Anthony nudged your ribs

“Stop that, I’m nervous enough.”

“You shouldn’t be, it’s a great movie, amazing script. And the cast is phenomenal.” Seb smiled at you

“Okay everybody, let’s get the ball rolling!” the MC spoke into her mic

Chris slid up next to you, waiting to be called up after Seb and Anthony. You didn’t pay him any mind until you caught him eating something colorful from his hand.

“What are you eating?”

He tucked his hand behind his back like a child “Nothing.”

“What’s behind your back? Chris, let me see.” 

He spun around while you tried to grab his hand, when he wasn’t letting up you tickled his ribs until a few jellybeans fell from his hand.

“Aw man, I dropped a yellow one, those are my favorites.” he continued to eat the ones in his hand “You’re holding out on me, these are good.”

“Chris, stop eating them.” you felt your heart rate increase with each passing second “How many of those did you eat?”

“I dunno a handful maybe.” he was handed a mic 

“Chris Evans!” 

“See you out there.” Chris tossed the remaining jellybeans in his mouth before taking off for the stage

“Holy shit.” 

“And now the star and director (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)!”

If you had the option to stay in the shadows to let your brain catch up you would, but now your focus wasn’t on the people or the movie, it was on Chris and the massive trip he was going to have once the edibles kicked in.

“Shit shit shit.” you muttered to yourself as you hurried up the stairs to the stage

You were given the seat next to Chris, who was still cogent and alert for the time being. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t really take your eyes off him for more than minute, and you almost got away with it, until Chris pointed it out.

“You’re staring.” he whispered away from the mic, his head lolled to the side a bit and his eyes getting red

“Chris, I gotta tell you something.” you started

“Right (Y/N)?” Seb pulled you and Chris back into the conversation

“Come again?”

“I saying how well we all worked together on the set.”

“Oh yeah, like huge family. It was amazing to work with-” you stopped when you felt a finger flick your ear, you looked to Chris, all smiles and intently focused on your earlobe “Amazing to work with these guys, they really bring a-” he tugged on your ear again “playful essence to the set.”

“You okay there Chris?” the MC asked him

“Your earlobe is so soft.” Chris half whispers to you, ignoring the question completely “Earlo-oo-be.”

Oh shit.

“Chris?”

“Hm? Yes a question.” he grinned “And the answer.... never violence.”

“You okay dude?” Anthony asked him this time

“I’m feeling great.” Chris nods slowly before leaning over you and Sebastian to hold Anthony’s hand “How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“What’s wrong with Chris?” Sebastian whispers in your ear

“You know how bad his anxiety gets.” you tried to brush it off “I got it covered- hopefully.”

Chris throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “This woman right here is the best person I’ve met, sorry mom, she’s- just- awesome.”

You pat him on the arm and try to steer the conversation back on the right tracks. Chris’s hand lazily ran back and forth on your arm, sending chills through your body. If you didn’t like it so much you would’ve told him to stop, plus it was keeping him focused for the time being. And for the following ten minutes he was calm, switching between picking the lint off your dress, to rubbing his face, things you could play off as normal things.... and then it went south.

In the middle of Anthony answering a question, you heard a strange wet sound over the speaker, glancing back at Chris you saw him licking the side of his microphone.

“Chris, stop that.” you pulled his hand away from his face, he quickly switched it to his other hand and continued to lick the mic “Don’t lick it.”

He chuckled giving you an overly obvious wink “Can I lick you instead?”

Your cheeks are flaming now, and the heat shot straight down to your core. A collective ‘ooh’ came from the audience, Sebastian, Anthony and the MC all froze mid topic.

“Laying on the charm pretty thick there Chris?” Sebastian said, in hopes to lighten the situation up

“I mean at least take her out on a date first, Evans.” Anthony laughed

Chris pulled you even closer into his side, lowering his lips to your ear, in attempts to whisper “I wanna kiss you right now, and raise a puppy together.”

“Did you say something Chris?” Sebastian glanced over to him

“Nope, he didn’t say anything.” you pushed the mic away from Chris’s face, he reached over and grabbed yours

“Show of hands who has a dog?” he pointed out to the audience, and about half the members raised their hands “I wanna pet them.”

“The dogs or the people?” Anthony questioned

“Yes.” Chris pressed the mic to his mouth again “All the dogs.”

There was scattered applause from the audience, Chris laughed to himself then relaxed further into the couch, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Okay, we’re gonna do fan questions right now.” The MC gave Chris a strange look

“It’s really hot right now. Is anyone else hot?”

A series of questionable mutters came from the crowd, Anthony and Sebastian gave you confused head tilts as Chris stood up, hands going to the top of his shirt, undoing buttons. Many, if not all the females in the room, started to cheer, chanting ‘take it off’, you hopped up in time for him to only get half done with his shirt.

“Chris, keep your shirt on.” you hissed pulling it closed

“But it’s hot.” he pressed his forehead to yours, resting his hands on your hips “You’re hot, let’s get a dog.”

“You have a dog.”

He gasped, those normal baby blue eyes were bloodshot red, his pupils completely dilated “I do? Is he here?”

“Yeah, let’s go see him.” you slung his arm back over your shoulder, then brought the mic up to your lips “Give us a moment, a few technical issues.”

Chris took the mic from you again “We’re gonna get a dog together!” he dropped the mic, leaning on you for support “Goodnight Boston.”

“We’re in Sarasota, let’s go see Dodger.”

You managed to get Chris back behind the curtains, helping him down those five steps would’ve been difficult, if he hadn’t jumped down them himself. You quickly followed behind him as he touched everything, muttering ‘Why Should I Worry’ along the way. When you caught up to him, you yanked him back in the dressing room, shutting the door behind the two of you.“There’s no dog in here.” he pouts

“Chris, listen to me.” you turned him around to face you “You have got to calm down and focus. Those jelly beans you ate- were edibles.”

“Well yeah, I couldn’t eat ‘em if they weren’t edible.” he laughed loudly and threw his head back

“No, I mean they’re laced with medical marijuana. The label says you’re only supposed to eat five maximum, and you ate a fucking handful of them. You’re higher than Spudnik right now.”

Chris finally caught his breath, nervously looking around the room. He started to scratch at his skin, his breathing getting heavier.

“Holy fuck, what the actual fuck?” he muttered to himself

“Calm down, you’re gonna be fine.” you steered him to the couch, he grabbed the nearest pillow and held on to it for dear life 

“I can feel my blood flowing in my body, is that normal? Why are these lights so- big. No not big, what’s the other word? Holy shit I’m freaking out right now.” 

“Are you okay?” your rubbed his arms “Just breathe.”

“Bright, the lights are bright.” he nods leaning back into the couch, his shirt falling open “It’s still hot.”

“I’ll get you some water.”

“No.” Chris pulled you in by your wrists “I haven’t a trip this bad in years, feels like yesterday. Why is time going so fast? Am I gonna die?”

"No, you’re gonna be fine.” you moved to sit on the couch next to Chris but he pulls you into his lap until you’re straddling him.

His hands were secured around your waist, and he laid his head on your shoulder. The only thing keeping you from full body on body contact was the pillow between you. But you could still feel his heartbeat slowing to its steady rhythm.

“Uh- you sure you’re okay?”

He nods again “How long does this last?”

“A few hours, but if you’re anything like me you’ll be asleep right after you eat.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” he sighed “Did I say okay already?”

“Mhmm, but it’s fine.” 

“You smell nice, you always smell nice.” he moved to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his lips lightly trailing across the your exposed skin. It sends shivers down your spine that settles between your legs

“Chris-” Your fingers ran through the short hair at the back of Chris’s head, his body started to relax a little, leaning into your hand and groaning softly. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, I like this, more than you know.” he paused “I want fried eggs... and a shitload of bacon.”

You chuckled, pulling your phone from your pocket when it starts to buzzing like crazy “Sure, we’ll get something to eat after the hall clears out a bit.”

“Do you think anyone out there noticed?” 

“Uh-” you scrolled through your timeline, cramped with headlines about you and Chris being in a not so secret relationship. Others hitting the mark, stating that Chris was in fact high. But over 25.7k people were rooting for the relationship rumors to be true

“Maybe a few people.”

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #Sebastian Stan #anthony mackie #Knives Out #jellybeans #100 days of productivity #marvel #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson x reader #tony stark #spiderman #point blank #comiccon #lady thor #valkyrie #CEvans #Avengers #Excelsior