#a cane or wheelchair to avoid the pain when it’s only a little n i shld just deal with it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youbloodymadgenius · 4 years

Text

Brother (a Modern!Ivar fic with an unexpected Ragnarsson as special guest)

A/N: This is my entry to @maggiescarborough celebration. Happy early Anniversary, love 💝

I’m quite proud of this one! So, please, I know it’s not a reader insert, but give it a try, give it a chance 🙏🏽

Prompt in bold, as usual.

@inforapound - I know how much i owe you. Thank you 💞

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: One of Ivar's brothers was in a car accident. How will Ivar react?

Warning: description of physical injuries; mention of a car crash; medical and surgical inaccuracies.

Words: 2331

As soon as he spots Doctor Mikelsson, Ivar gets up, wincing at the throbbing pain in his legs as he steps closer to the renowned surgeon.

"Doc," he says, giving him a slight nod, "How is he?"

The surgeon sighs tiredly and slowly rubs his palms down his scrubs-clad thighs. "I'd say he has been very lucky. As far as I know, it could have been much worse. Car versus truck is never a winning combo, at least for the car's driver. His car has been completely destroyed, from what I hear. It must have been a terrible wreck. "

"That’s an understatement." Ivar grumbles under his breath, shivering as he struggles to get the images of the crash out of his mind. The pictures he saw were so vivid, he could still hear the screams and ambulance sirens that had undoubtedly filled the accident scene. Closing his eyes for a brief instant, he shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the here and now.

"That's not what I was asking, Doc. How is he?" He insists, emphasizing the last three words as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, leaning heaviliy on his crutch, physical and mental discomfort obvious on his face.

"Well, he's not so bad, all things considered. As I said, it could have been much worse. He's stable and his condition isn't life-threatening. It's serious, though."

Ivar rolls his eyes, getting impatient. "Straight to the point, Doc, please! And no need to sugarcoat it." His commanding voice is sharp and stern, his tight-lipped expression giving away what little patience he has.

"Okay, Ivar." Doctor Mikelsson gives him a weary smile, a hand up in surrender. "About his upper body first. Aside from several bruises, he had a sprained wrist and a cracked rib. The last one will be painful for awhile but it won't be an issue in the long run. His lower body, on the other hand…" The surgeon frowns, visibly gathering his thoughts. "He suffered a double tibia-fibula fracture of his right leg and his pelvis has been multi-fractured; therefore I had to stabilize it with plates and screws. To allow his pelvis to recover, your brother will be bed- and then wheelchair-bound for at least six weeks, maybe more. Not that it matters, anyway, given the condition of his left leg."

Hearing those words, Ivar shudders. "How…" His voice comes out strangled and he clears his throat. "How is it? You… You could save it, right? That's why I… had him transferred here."

Putting a soothing hand on Ivar's forearm, the doctor nods. "Yes, I saved it. It was quite a challenge, I must admit. His leg has been severely shattered during the crash, literally crushed by one of the truck's tires. From the top of his thigh to the tips of his toes, not a single bone was intact. I do understand why my colleague from the public hospital wanted to amputate it, you know?"

"But you saved it?" Ivar asks once again, his free hand running nervously through his disheveled hair.

"I did." The doctors answers soberly before explaining. "I reduced the largest fractures, using rods and plates there as well. I couldn't avoid putting an external fixator though, his leg was too damaged. He'll still need several more surgeries, but he gets to keep his leg."

"Thanks, Doc." Ivar adorns a slight smile which doesn't completely reach his eyes. "And what about recovery? He will fully recover, right?" A frown creasing his forehead, Ivar bites his inner cheek, worried and concerned.

Grimacing, the surgeon lets out a deep breath. "Ivar, I'm not sure you understand the extent of the damage. It's not just about a couple of broken bones. We're talking about devastating injuries that could have – that should have – resulted in amputation. If you ask me if your brother will walk again, I can't be sure yet, but I'm quite confident he will. Will he need walking aids, like cane, crutch and or leg brace? It's too soon to say. But to be perfectly honest with you, it's quite likely." Seeing Ivar wince, the surgeon gives him an apologetic look. "Sorry Ivar. Be sure I did my best."

"Don't be sorry, I know you did. It's just a lot to take in. Does he… Does my brother know?"

Scrunching his face, the surgeon hesitates, unsure. "More or less. I talked to him in the recovery room but he was a bit dazed from the drugs and the nurse had to increase the morphine because he was in pain. He was completely out of it after that. He'll probably sleep through the night so I'll talk to him first thing in the morning." Taking a step back, Doctor Mikelsson stares at Ivar from head to foot, noticing how the blue-eyed man favors his left leg, his right foot barely touching the floor. "You should head home and get some rest, Ivar. I'm pretty sure you've been wearing these braces for far too long." Giving him a light pat on the shoulder, he shrugs. "I'll do the same anyway. Guess I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Ivar."

***

Opening the door as quietly as possible, Ivar watches his sleeping brother. He's awfully pale, his frail frame so small on the hospital bed, his right leg in a cast, his left propped up on a huge pillow. Ivar frowns at the sight of the fixator, which makes him think of a barbaric tool more than a medical device. He suddenly feels grateful that he never needed one.

Trying to not make any noise, he crosses the room without using his crutch, struggling and wincing with every step. He's successful but fails to stifle a hiss as he sits down on the chair next to his brother's bed. He looks at him, worried, and sees his eyes flutter open.

"Ivar?" His brother's voice is hoarse and the stunned look on his face unmistakable. "Why did you come here? To make fun of me?" There's no fight or fire in his eyes, only exhaustion and sadness.

Ivar shrugs, a light smile playing on his lips. "Can't say the thought didn't cross my mind." He lowers his head one second, snorting, and when he raises it again, it's with a serious look on his face. "Guess I wanted to know how you are doing." His voice is barely a whisper and he doesn't look his brother in the eye.

"What did you say?" Ivar's brother's tone is suspiscious, dripping with disbelief. "Since when are you concerned about that??" He tries to sit up but groans in pain, collapsing back onto the bed.

Worry wrinkling his forehead, Ivar instantly gets up, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Hold still, will you? And seriously, tell me, how are you feeling? How is your pain? I mean, on a scale from zero to ten, zero meaning no pain at all and ten an unbearable pain. Tell me, how bad is it?"

Ivar's brother rubs his cheek with two fingers, squinting his eyes, before letting out a long and audible sigh. "Four I think, maybe five."

Ivar – who lives on a daily basis with a six or seven rated pain – has to remind himself that his pain treshold is much higher than that of ordinary people. "Okay," he begins softly, "four or five might still be tolerable but don't let it get higher. Look," he points at a small medical bulb with his index finger, "that's a morphine pump, just squeeze it once and let the magic work. Trust me, it's terribly efficient. It will make you a bit dizzy but it'll be worth it." As to illustrate his point, Ivar squeezes the pump and he can see the relief washing over his brother's face almost instantly as the pain goes numb.

"I spoke with the doctor who did the surgery this morning. Did you?" Ivar's brother asks, a frown on his face and biting his lower lip.

"I did." Ivar answers without saying anything more. An uneasy silence settles in, eventually broken by Ivar's brother‘s shaky voice. "So, you know there's a chance…" His words catch in his throat and he swallows loudly. "What if…" Overcome with anxiety, he's unable to say more.

"Hey, stop that, brother!" Ivar almost scolds him."You will walk again. It may be hard, but you'll get there. For now, you should be thankful for being alive. You know what they say… Where there's life, there's hope. So please, stay positive and fucking look at me if you need to. I was able to walk, so I'm pretty sure you can too."

Ivar's brother looks at him for a long time, a puzzled look on his face. "Karma is a bitch, isn't it?" He eventually says sheepishly, a sad smile crossing his lips. "You can say it, I won't get mad, you know? I probably deserve this, after all I did…" He sighs, lowering his gaze, but Ivar doesn't allow it, raising his brother's head with a finger on his chin.

"Listen carefully, brother. No one deserves to suffer. Neither you nor anyone else. Karma has nothing to do with what happened to you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, nothing more. The truck driver was sleep-deprived and didn't see the red light. It sucks, I get it, but it was just bad luck that you were at this crossroad at the same time that he was."

Ivar's brother just nods lightly, and then yawns, rubbing his eyes. "You should rest, brother. I'll be back soon." Ivar grabs his crutch but his brother wraps his hand around his wrist.

"Wait… You told me why you were here but there's one thing I don't understand. Why are you the one here? Where are our–" He stops as another yawn cuts him off.

Ivar, however, understands his unfinished question. "Last time I heard from our dear brothers, they were going on a business trip to Cancun. Seeing as it is the beginning of Spring Break in the US, I'm pretty sure calling it a fuck trip would be more accurate. It also means that you're stuck with me for a couple of weeks. Sorry about that." Tilting his head, Ivar gives his brother a semi-amused look. "Anyway, now, you're going to rest,” Ivar strokes his brother's hair with unexpected gentleness, "and in the meantime I'm going to make arrangements for your future."

"What… what does that mean?" Ivar's brother babbles, the drug-induced dizziness hitting him with full force.

"It means that as soon as you'll be discharged, you'll be moving in with me." Ivar says casually, shrugging, as he heads towards the door.

"Moving in with… you? But… why?" The questioning tone of his brother is obvious and Ivar turns back to look at him. "It was either this, or the rehab center. Trust me, you'll be better taken care of with me. My apartment is fully accessible, I've got a real PT room and Sven, my longtime PT, is the best in all of Scandinavia. You'll also probably need an OT, and it happens that I know the best OT too. Flora is her name, she helped me a lot a few years ago. So yeah, you will be in good hands, I promise. As good as Doctor Mikelsson's hands."

Confused, Ivar's brother looks at him questioningly. "Doctor Mikelsson is… your…" Obviously befuddled, his speech is now slurred and he can't find the right word.

"My surgeon, yes,” Ivar completes the sentence. "Has been for the last twelve years. That's why I had you transferred here, in this clinic."

Dumbfounded, Ivar's brother stares wide-eyed. "I don't… I didn't rela… realize I've been transf… transferred. And that… that was…"

"At my request, yes." Ivar nods. "Because the Doc is more than a surgeon. He's a magician. He truly can work wonders. Me standing and walking is enough to prove it." Raising his head proudly, Ivar smiles at his brother reassuringly.

"Why… why did… you do… this for… me?" Ivar's brother sputters, exhaustion written all over his face. Yet, he fights it, his curiosity prevailing above all else.

Ivar shrugs once again, giving his brother an airy wave of his hand as to let him know that what he's doing is no big deal. "I know your pain, brother. I know the struggles you'll be facing. You have a long road ahead and I know how scary it might be. You won't be alone. I won't allow it. We'll get through this together, because no one should have to deal with such things alone." Ivar almost hiccups, his heart is suddenly in his throat as a wave of painful childhood memories floods his mind. He pushes them away, gritting his teeth, because now is not the time. Focusing once more on the blond in front of him, he speaks again, in a firm tone. "So, brother, you won't be. Never. I will be right next to you at every step, literally. We'll make our own version of 'the blind leading the blind', you know?" Ivar scratches the back of his neck, a half-smile on his lips, before taking a deep breath. "And you may be an asshole most of the time, but you're still my brother. That's why I do it. It's as simple as that. Sleep now, we'll talk later."

Hand on the doorknob, Ivar hears a faint whimper. Looking backwards, he's surprised as he sees a single tear running down his brother's cheek. "Thank you, Ivar." His brother says with a trembling voice, clearly shaken up by Ivar's words.

Ivar gives his brother a genuine smile, suddenly struck by the thougth that it's probably the first genuine smile he's given his brother in years. "You're welcome, Sig," he says sincerely as he has to blink back his own tears, an unfamiliar but warm feeling in his chest, "Sleep now, I'll be back soon. I promise."

🛡💖🛡

@maggiescarborough @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @waiting4inspiration @saldelys @gearhead66 @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog

153 notes · View notes

enithinggoes · 3 years

Text

Wanderer’s Refuge, chapter 2: caught red-handed

Agatha and Ursa knew they wouldn’t be able to stay flying for long, by morning they were already starting to feel hungry and thirsty, so Ursa pointed them to a nearby town she’d heard of so they could get supplies and maybe some maps of the country, they brought the train down as they approached and parked it hidden in a small clearing, then the girls went together into town, looking to find some means to get by just for the near future, as luck would have it, a very important opportunity was waiting just around the corner…

A young red haired man who preferred to go just by his first name was leaning against a wall, gathering his thoughts. He had the plan, he had the smarts, he had the stuff, he just needed the extra hands, someone desperate enough to take the risks and not ask about a big cut…

“We’re gonna need a way to make money.” Said Ursa, pushing Agatha’s wheelchair along the busy streets “and I don’t think people are gonna be super keen on hiring two teenagers that came out of nowhere.”

The man reacted instantly upon hearing them, “Perfect!”, and pushed himself off the wall, catching the coin he was flipping with a flourish and quickly turning to the girls and extending a gloved hand, he wore a dapper suit and a cheeky smile. “Good morning, young ladies! Haven’t seen you around here, are you two looking for a quick job?”

Agatha was a bit stunned by this sudden encounter, so it was all she could do to put her hand out, which the young man vigorously shook.

“Who are you and what the hell do you want with us?” said Ursa, clearly on edge.

“The name’s Lawrence, and there’s no need to be so rude. I want to take you two to lunch, my treat; I know this great place downtown. There, we can discuss a way you can both make 100 shillings in less than a week.”

The two girls glanced at each other, this man was twelve kinds of shady, but 200 total pounds was enough for not only basic supplies, but probably a few mattresses and an ice box, maybe even some coal(they hypothesized that maybe giving the train’s engine some steam might make Agatha less tired from flying).

“We’ll talk over lunch, but we do reserve the right to back out even if you pay for us!” Ursa answered, eyeing Lawrence suspiciously

“Of course, of course. Right this way, then!” The redhead did something close to a twirl turning back and leading them quickly down an alley.

At the restaurant, Lawrence had impeccable table manners, even better than Agatha’s, and definitely than Ursa’s, who was scarfing down an expensive cut of beef when he asked “So, I’ve told you ladies my name, it would be rude if you didn’t give me yours.”

“I’m Agatha Clarke, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And this is Ursa Martin,” said the white-haired girl, Ursa just mumbled in agreement while still chewing.

“Now, an illustrious coal baron, mr. Robert Evans, is coming to town with an entourage to visit the local mines, which have been drying up for a few decades. And I’d wager, with proper prestidigitation we can make a deal with him that shall be quite lucrative for us.” Lawrence explained with a devilish smile.

“So you’re a scammer.” Ursa said matter-of-factly.

“I prefer to think of myself as a merchant that really knows how to make a sale.” He said, entirely unperturbed.

“Alright, I’m down to scam a coal baron, what’s the game?”

“I’m glad you’ve asked, partner.”

Over the next few days, Lawrence brought the girls over to where he’d been staying, it was a small hotel room, surprising considering the apparent quality of his suit, Ursa had to carry Agatha’s chair up, since there were only stairs. There, he showed them a few large bags of oddly shaped rocks he’d collected plus some soot-based paint, “made it myself!” he commented with a wink.

They spent their time painting the rocks very thoroughly to look as much like coal as possible, while putting them out to dry, Agatha innocently asked “Sir Lawrence, I hope you don’t mind but why do you keep all your belongings in bags and pouches, is there something wrong with the room’s lockers?”

“Well, you see, I just like to keep my things close at hand.” The red-haired man seemed bashful, like that was only half an answer, still, Agatha didn’t want to pry. “You’re a very wholesome woman, aren’t you? I was actually a bit worried you’d be against my business model.”

“Well, you see, sir, I don’t think a baron of anything is going to be hurting for money anytime soon. And we don’t have many options in the present moment.” Agatha avoided mentioning she was already, by all accounts, a criminal.

Lawrence put his knuckle to his chin and said “I see, I guess I misjudged you a little. Well, then we’d best get back to work, we have some rehearsing to do!” He felt like he understood her a bit more, but cut the conversation short, he didn’t like getting too attached to his “coworkers”

The three of them slept in Lawrence’s cramped room, Agatha and Ursa wanting to avoid the hassle of moving back to the train and the possibility of revealing their magical artifice, who knows how Lawrence could react?

The guests shared a sleeping bag of his cuddled together on the floor, while Lawrence rested on his bed, never taking off his gloves or turning his back to the door.

When a total of 5 days had passed, the final preparations were made in the morning and the three headed close to the city’s entrance, when they saw a man in a strikingly black suit accompanied by three burly lads, his eyes and nose turned slightly upwards as he strode, Ursa and Lawrence, both wearing dirty overalls, walked down onto the street, shouting at each other.

“Ya can’t sell those, those are all that’s left of Pa!” said Ursa, faking the accent people imagined miners to have.

“Well he worked himself ta death findin’ these so we could live a decent life!” retorted Lawrence, carrying a large, metal bucket full of painted pebbles.

“We could take over this whole town if ya just worked in that mine for a few more weeks!” she grabbed onto Lawrence’s shoulders, shaking him.

“We ain’t gonna be alive for more weeks if Ah don’t sell these!” He pushed her away, purposefully letting the rocks shake and make noise inside the bucket.

The baron’s bodyguards were about to push the two away from his path when, with an elegant, but firm hit of his cane onto the sidewalk, he commanded them to stop. Lawrence and Ursa turned to face him, feigning surprise.

“Now now, there’s no need for such vulgarism. Young man, would you kindly show me what you’re holding there?” He spoke to Lawrence slowly, like one speaks to a child.

As Ursa pretended to hold Lawrence back, he proudly showed the contents of the bucket, saying “This is what Pa used to call ‘charboné eterinow’, said he’d heard of it when he was young like me, burns as long as ya like, it does.”

“’Charbon eternél’, hmm, the eternal coal” Mr. Evans was clearly proud of his french, “could you show it to me in action?”

Lawrence put the bucket on the floor, smiling widely as he bragged “of course, mistah! Let me just get it burnin’ real quick” he took a little flask of moonshine from his pocket and let some drip onto the inside of the bucket, before setting it on fire with a simple tinderbox and quickly removing his hand before the flames flared to life.

“Easy there!” He quickly leaned back, his hands hovering at the sides of the bucket as they watched the flames cover the entirety of the bottom of the bucket, making the rocks hard to even look without feeling pain in one’s eyes.

Ursa was very nervous about this step, in theory, there should be nothing stopping the flame from fizzling out once all the alcohol was consumed, but Lawrence had assured her he “had a plan”. Lo and behold, the fire didn’t go out, instead it flared beautifully up, almost burning the coal baron’s clothes as it seemed to reach towards his eyes before stabilizing inside the bucket.

Whatever it was that Lawrence had done, it seemed that he was quite anxious too, as he stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth in concentration and quickly started to sweat, thought that might have been from the heat, while his hands hovered near the bucket for more than two minutes before he quickly turned it upside down, fast enough for none of the rocks to go flying.

“That should put it out in a few” said Lawrence, holding the bucket while the oxygen from the bucket depleted until he raised it up to reveal the still perfectly intact rocks underneath.

“See! Not one bit a wear n’ tear! Pretty special, right?” Lawrence turned looked up towards Robert Evans.

The coal baron hid his amazement by biting his lip and muttered “Special indeed.”

“Well, waddaya think? Pa told us these would be worth a fortune, how’s 600 sound?” Lawrence named a tall price, all part of negotiations.

“No, no, this is certainly impressive, but 600 is too much for a novelty, I’ll be generous with you and give you 300.”

“That’s a done deal!” The men shook hands, and after the money was exchanged, he paid Ursa and said he still had “some details to deal with really quick” so she and Agatha could go back to the room or wherever they wanted now.

Ursa met up with Agatha nearby, and excitedly told her about how the plan had worked, how they had enough money now to buy the things they would need to live for a while. Agatha asked about Lawrence, but Ursa said they shouldn’t expect him to hang around for long after the job, he was clearly a man with no interest in roots, ready to leave at any time.

“Guess that doesn’t make him very different from us.” Agatha commented with a sympathetic smile.

“huh… guess not.” Commented Ursa, made somewhat aware of her cynicism.

Meanwhile, Lawrence was making the “real” part of this plan come to fruition, he brought mr. Evans(at his request), to the “source” of the “charbon eternél”. A field of bare stone around a dark cave, were he’d half-buried, just conspicuously enough, dozens of painted rocks just like the ones in the bucket he carried, he counted on the baron’s arrogance to make him believe Lawrence wouldn’t see the potential something like a “mine of ever-burning coal” could have to completely destroy the current state of the economy.

“Here it is mister, this is where Pa found ‘em, spent 25 years looking for ‘em, he did.” Lawrence said, pointing around the area on the outskirts of town.

“I see,” said Robert Evans, “the site of such an interesting find should definitely be preserved, would you be willing to sell it to me for about 500 pounds?”

“Fahve hundred! Why that’s too kind, sir! I’d love to give it to you, I’ve been trying to get off this town and make it in the big city.” Lawrence rapidly shook Evans’ hand, keeping up the farce that he was the one being tricked with a lower value than this could really be worth, his plan had worked perfectly.

Lawrence went back to his room, with a score like this, 600 pounds all to himself, he really should take the chance to exit the scene as quick as he could, before anyone caught on and came to ask him for refunds.

He put his suit back on and gathered his things, his clothes, his sleeping bag, his toothbrush, his switchblade, any trace of the time he’d spent here, the only thing he left behind was a note with “good luck out there, don’t look for me.” For the people who had been his roommates for the last week, he pushed a pang of guilt at giving them such a small share of the score and just disappearing without a word away with the thought that this was just “the game”, and he’d just learned to play it well.

Lawrence thought a bit about where he could go now, probably somewhere with a big market and lots of gullible tourists. Yeah, that’d be good for a few more months, maybe even a year and a half.

After picking out a town south of where he was, he bought his ticket and waited inside the station, it would still a few hours until the train he’d booked came, but he didn’t want to risk any unfavorable encounters by walking around outside.

Unfortunately that didn’t stop two burly men, who he recognized as the coal baron’s bodyguards, from coming up to him and telling him to get up and come with them. Ok, a little snag, nowhere to just run away, no trains for a long time, but it’s fine, he can weasel his way out of this.

They brought him into an alleyway, where he met mr. Robert Evans again, he didn’t seem upset, but was definitely not friendly, as soon as Lawrence saw him, he started saying “I can explain,”.

“So,” interrupted the baron, “It appears to me you were not fully honest with your description of this ‘ever-burning coal’, were you?” He showed one of the painted rocks with a part broken off, showing the gray center.

“Alright, you got me, I was trying to pull one over on you, you’ve gotta know it’s a common thing around here, that’s the game, and you won! I’ll pay you back with 50% extra, promise.”

The coal baron took a step forward, smirking at Lawrence dropping the façade he’d adopted when speaking to him. “I see, but I think I have a better idea of how you could… reward me for this “win”. Would you mind telling me how you got that fire to keep burning that long?”

“It was the alcohol!” Lawrence sputtered out, “I-it is mixed with a slower burning substance that kept it bright longer!”

“Seize his hands, please.” The two bodyguards grabbed onto Lawrence’s arms, he was shoved to the ground, bruising his chin and getting his arms held behind his back, his left glove was pulled off, revealing crimson-red fingers.

“Ah, the devil’s hand, I suspected it when I noticed your gloves were the only thing you wore on both occasions where we met, so I think I know a way you can repay me even better:” Evans put his foot on top of Lawrence’s head, pressing it to the floor. “You see, I happen to know there’s a 500 pound reward for capturing your kind, dead or alive, so along with taking back the money you stole from me, I’ll be making quite a big profit.

Lawrence tried to look forward, find something he could do to escape, at the end of the alleyway, he could just barely see two girls in new clothes, one of them in a wheelchair, maybe it was Agatha and Ursa! They could help him, right? No, he left them before, and maybe they even knew he’d lowballed them, why would they risk their lives for someone like him?

“Anything to say for yourself, monster? Aren’t you gonna squirm some more? Or can you at least face death like a man”

He couldn’t find anything, after all, he’d tried everything before, nobody ever listened, ever saw him like a person after knowing what his hands meant, they called him a living timebomb, a danger to society, he’d grown used to it by now, he could try to burn them all to death, become fitting of his description, use this supposed power that had made him a target all his life…

Before he could finish weighing if he’d rather risk trying to escape while they dragged him to the local precinct or give up on trying to subvert their judgment of him by just leaning into the raging fire, the weight over his body suddenly disappeared as Ursa launched her whole body with a burst of steam it into Robert Evans, her elbow connecting with his back and the force throwing him into his bodyguards and knocking them off their feet.

“Can you run?” she crouched down and asked him while untying his wrists.

“Certainly better than the alternative.” Lawrence answered, already getting up onto his knees and putting his gloves back on.

They ran out of the alley and Lawrence followed Ursa as she wheeled Agatha out of town and towards the nearby woods, he didn’t know where they were going but if they had a route to get away from here it certainly beat staying.

When they came to a clearing, the young man had a hard time believing what he saw, a two wagon train in the middle of a forest.

“Get in!” Said Ursa, lifting Agatha’s chair onto the train as Lawrence followed them inside

“I don’t know if I can give it liftoff, last time we were already in the air when it manifested.” Agatha went to the train’s caboose and lifted herself to the conductor’s chair, focusing on visualizing the train in flight as she’d seen before. The train started moving as its tracks began to form, but it couldn’t quite accelerate quick enough to beat the upwards incline, the boiler made a roaring noise, like a starved tiger crying out in rage.

“Shit, I forgot to get any actual coal while we were out!” said Ursa, looking for something flammable she could part with, maybe they’d have enough time before someone came for Lawrence to go out and cut down some trees.

Lawrence clutched his own arms, hesitating a bit to do something he knew would be an unnecessary risk, but he owed at least some help to these people, right? “You’ve already collected the necessary water for the boiler right?”

“Yes, we’ve even already filled it, we just need a flame to light it,” replied Agatha, still concentrating on trying to move the train through her sheer will.

Lawrence pulled back his sleeves, he didn’t want to burn them with an effort this large, he extended his hands into the boiler and flames entirely engulfed the inside of it, barely licking at his forearms. The heat quickly started transforming the water in the boiler into steam, launching the train into motion forwards and upwards.

Agatha and Ursa stared at Lawrence’s hands, marveling at the beauty of the flames and their incredible power before Agatha had to focus on guiding her machine and Ursa had to hold on to avoid falling over from the sudden acceleration.

After they’d picked up some good altitude and speed, Lawrence pulled his hands out of the boiler and turned to look out the window, seeing the world from above for the first time, right here, it felt like nobody could hurt him, no one could look down or him or hunt him down for a strange birthmark he never asked for, it was beautiful.

“So…” He turned to Agatha, “how long can I stay here, could you at least drop me off at the next town you come to?”

“Oh.” Agatha didn’t turn away from the blue sky she was plowing through, “You may leave if you’d like, sir, but you’re welcome to stay as well.”

Lawrence did a double-take, why would anybody take this risk? Put their own lives at stake sheltering a man who could never not be a target for the rest of his life? “Really”

Ursa came up to him, tapping him on the shoulder, “yeah man, we’re not throwing you back out there.” She pointed at the town, now tiny from the window of the train.

Lawrence smiled, putting his forearm in front of his eyes, maybe to shelter them from the sun, or to shelter himself from showing his watery eyes.

“Thank you.”

#Wanderer's refuge #Magic #pyromancer #steampunk #Original Work #original writing #original story #disabled character #train #lesbian character #trans character #hurt #comfort #weekly

4 notes · View notes

rebelliouslala · 3 years

Text

4 Something

warnings- language, threats of death, violence

word count- ~2k

a/n- I don’t have my computer so I can’t put a keep reading, and it took me a bit to make sure this part was <3 perfecto so :,) Pain. also I HATED WRITING THIS SOB YOU’LL SEE AHHH

With a stir, and a dry groan from your mouth, you opened your eyes to find your arms still, holding your belt by buckle as the rest of the accessory bounded you. Now this was just an insult.

Yet, your nose twitched in anger as you widened your eyes. Gogo. He and Chenle, they both had betrayed you. And Victory, you cringed at the thought of how Victory had looked before you saw darkness.

You blinked a few times. You need to get out. You need something to get out and to save Johnny, and everyone else. To not be a dick, and get help from the Ripple.

The room around strangely smelled like raspberry tea. The top half of the walls were a dark oak wood traced and had clouds decorated in, with the sun shaped chandelier placed on the ceiling, even though you could barely see it from its dim light. You noted the red, or dark pink wallpaper that was supposed to be covering the rest of the wall, but from its decay, it turned into a mold green. You had a feeling it was perhaps just the design, and not age.

It was, both intriguing and relaxing to feel at the moment. You heard a pair of muffled voices mumble next to the door, behind and to the right of you.

In front of you, as you finally eye, was a rustic coffee table scattered with small treats, a delicate cup filled with red raspberry tea, and a letter. It read, in Korean characters, “Patience is key, he will fly in a few moments.”

You frowned. Baise was a very diverse city, an island that people would pass by on their maps. You remembered seeing it on a map before. It was between Korea, Japan, and China. A bit below Korea, to the bottom left of Japan and the neighbor to its big brother, China. Meaning nearly every person in Baise knew and could read at least more than one language. You even took your fun with Thai when you talked to Jewel.

Korean was something only- you inspected it closer by leaning in. It was only used by the Pound. In mafia terms of the Powder City, to converse you must strictly use one singular language because of the Drug War.

You remembered how awkward it was to talk to Flavour. His Chinese sucked. That was why Chenle was your spy. He was a boy from China, a son that funded and partly owned the Dream Gems.

Hopefully The Ripple should be getting here, you and Johnny, as well as Victory were high assets. They wouldn’t just leave you.

You sighed and hung your head, before leaning up to scratch your head. You gasped, and took the belt. You rolled your eyes from how tired you were, lazy enough to not even focus how detained you were.

There was a crackly sound, a cough, a voice which said an, “U-uh, oh, uh, uhm—,” with fading static in between the stuttering.

You finally leaned in to inspect the tea, scowling if it bubbled. Although it did smell like sweet honey, with pure cane sugar mixed in with its now wet leaves.

“I,” you heard a deep voice, almost growl into the speakers. It was menacing, and it echoed in the room. You sipped your tea out of excitement. “Am Eos. Boss of the Pound.”

Your eyes lit up at the taste of the drink, before gulping the rest down. It had a nostalgic feeling behind it. You swayed to the warmth that filled your body, and how it made you feel like you were running along the alleyways again with Johnny, feeing like you could fly up in the clouds.

“I am Psy,” you replied. Your mouth was now prepared to talk, and you took a crumpet. You inspected it before biting, “A worker.”

“For the Ripple?” The man said with a hiss.

“For myself. And my partner. Release him and I, along with some of the money, and perhaps I won’t try and find you and kill you,” you leaned back into the moss green sofa. The furniture had perfectly blended into the wall, and you smirked by biting some more into the snack with a crunch.

There was a chuckle, and it electrified the energy around you. “Oh; Psy, is it? I let you have this much freedom. Do not try anything too rash.”

“Well, I do want to get out.”

The mic went silent for some time. You looked around the room, making sure not to be too observant to the natural eye. You noted the walls below the wood were thin as paper, revealing brick. Perhaps you were in an old apartment building on the Southeast side?

“What can you do, Psy?”

“Hop over on drug trades, lie like I’m pretty, murder- oh disguises, I dunno, what do you want?”

Another moment. There was a door to your right, where you had heard the voices. It was painted and a thin wood. If you were to get up and kick it now, it would shatter.

“There will be a man to pick you up. He shall explain everything. Salutations, Psy.”

You looked up at the singular woofer diagonal from you. You salute it with a slight breeze to it, “Yep, pleasure meeting you Eos.”

As expected, when you finished a miniature cucumber sandwich, a short but stone faced man came in. “Hello, my name is Selen.”

“Psy,” you said as you got up, snapping your belt around your waist and you crossed your arms. “Any announcements?”

The man took a look at you before he gestured for you to follow with a ‘come hither,’ of his first two fingers. You rolled your eyes, but followed him out of the gothic room, to a moist and ugly stone hallway.

“We are the Pound. Eos is not a man who prefers to show his face, so I shall speak on his behalf. We are one of the most influential mafias in Baise, because of our spies.”

You stopped walking, overwhelmed by his extremely fake deep mafia voice, and the smell of everything you would witness in a sewer, “Spies?”

“Do I need to explain it to you lightly?” Selen asked, continuing to walk after a moment. You followed, “I am not going to be your little spy. I worked years for the Ripple. I would never betray them.”

“Flavour told us you need money.”

You gripped your belt. “W-What about it?”

“Ever wonder,” Selen opened the only door, and you widened your eyes, “How Johnny always had the money from those little robberies he made?”

You gasped as you saw a huge ballroom, and the nearly dozen of people you saw occupy it. Despite its space the people almost seemed to fill the room with their energy.

Every black tile on the floor lit up as you saw a young man run past you on your left side, at an astonishing speed, before grabbing a bow and sliding across diagonally, and shooting at a man covered in armor, hitting him in the head with ease.

Every old, and no doubt expensive, picture across the other man training, threw knives at another man on the right as he ran down and dodged, before getting out a shot gun and blowing it at the picture’s faces, not even looking.

You gazed in awe at the training facility. Not only did it have a classy energy, but it trained others to the max of their abilities. At the Ripple, you would probably fight Sushi until you both ended up in a tickle fight.

This, this was something else. Victory, Chenle, and Osaka were lined up near the entrance you had meet entered, waiting for their turn. You couldn’t breathe. Another man had begun to give them weapons, instructing them to shoot.

“Johnny has worked with us since he was 18. He said, specifically, he had no partner. Believe our eyes when Coral radioed in he had lied the entire time.” Selen chuckled a bit to himself, “Well, really, it was Gogo.”

You eyed up to the grand staircase which was above the black and white tile floors you occupied. The dark haired man who laughed pushed Johnny in a wheelchair, both seemingly fine. You pushed Selen out of the way, and made your way across, easily avoiding the traps.

The traps, so to speak, were more knives thrown at you, and you whipped out your belt around you, which caught them all in its swirl. When you snapped the belt into a club, the daggers fell out, bouncing as you glared at the man ahead.

Even as an arrow shot at you, you had turned and knocked it out of your vision like it was a simple baseball.

Gogo.

That was the name that seemed to repeat in your mind once you came out of your unconscious spell.

You had made yourself safe upon the stairs, you glared Gogo as you bludgeoned him, with all your force in the face with your truncheon. Everyone watched the man get knocked into the wall, and he groaned loudly as if it were his last breath. The people around you froze and stared.

“YOU ASSHOLE! YOU COMPLETE DICK!” You grabbed the man’s shoulders, intending to crush him as if he were a bug, before you felt a gentle touch.

“Y/n. He saved my life.”

“HE RATTED US OUT!” You turned to Johnny.

But his eyes were soft. They melted you. And that’s all that mattered. That he was truly still okay. He held your face and smiled. “Y/n,”

You embraced Johnny, and hid in his shoulder, grabbing him as if he were that teenager hiding from the cops again. He smelled the same as always. Warm, like opening a fresh cup of coffee, and sniffing the pure caffeine and vanilla mixture, with just a- a touch. That Touch of Cinnamon. You teared up. You couldn’t believe it. This was the closest you had ever lost Johnny. And it was because of the one man you had trusted.

“Y-Y/n,” Gogo spat out some blood as you raised your club, glaring at him. “Don’t you fucking come—,”

You felt a soft touch on your shoulder, and it was rubbed in.

Johnny caressed your face and smiled. “Don’t. He’s a kid.”

You looked back at Gogo looking at you. Now he didn’t look as the spy you hated.

He was Mark. He still had those same big sunflower seed like eyes, and he was so tiny. He was the same boy who giggled at Johnny telling jokes half awake. He was still a kid.

You tucked away your club back into a belt and embraced Johnny closer.

The man picked you up with ease, wincing quietly but he sat you on his lap. “Y/n, can you forgive me for ever lying?”

You paused, inhaling his scent as you felt yourself tear up. “Is that what all of those grocery runs were?” You asked quietly. Now, the young man named Mark Johnny had left, to go talk to Osaka below.

“Yes, yes they were.”

You wiped your tears and giggled quietly, “No wonder you always forget something stupid, like bread.”

“That was one time!” Johnny yelled.

“No it wasn’t!” You laughed more, and poked him. You both held each other close.

Gogo then touched your arm, and you whipped out your belt and stared at him with a faux, huge smile. “Hi, Mark.”

He blinked. “H-Hello- B-Boss, uh,” Johnny held you closer, and you narrowed your eyes, “Spit it out, traitor.”

“Eos saw you. H-He said,” he clicked something in his ear, and nodded quietly, “He wants to meet you.”

Johnny held you. “No. No- we agreed.”

“Boss said you can- er, r-roll them there.”

Johnny scowled at Gogo. He lifted you off, hissing as he got up. “I-I’ll walk.”

The two of you made your way from the door Johnny had entered, to another dim, gross hallway like the one Selen and you had to go through.

You were more surprised at the architecture of this building than the spies.

“Did you know Osaka?”

“No, I only truly knew Ma- Mark.” You carried the tall man in your arms, as he stumbled. “He and I got in at the same time. I taught him everything I knew, but, I guess I’m still not a good of a hyung than I thought I was.”

“No, he’s just a bonehead.” You aided Johnny. “Besides, I’m pretty sure if I can take Gogo, well, Flavour—,”

“Jaemin is just a kid.”

You frowned. You, of course still trusted Johnny. He did this for you. You just, it felt weird seeing him so casual to the people who, was supposed to be your enemy. You sighed quietly and gently looked up, “Do you—?”

“Yeah, my portrait isn’t watery, it’s going to be,” he grunted quietly, “kinda like, uh, like w-watery snow. I’m sorry- Give me some time?”

You smiled. Once you and Johnny had left the South side, you guys didn’t know how to get caught by mafias, or even the cops. You spoke in code. Each first letter of a word he spoke meant something.

Everything else that he said, due to his tone, how he sounded more casual, and knowing his voice so well you could impersonate him- you knew he meant.

Plan

Working

Meaning the second part of his sentence was; It’s going to be,

Working

Soon

You sighed, “You better make that fuckin’ portrait snow.”

“It needs to be watery at least.” He said, a little distastefully.

“Fine, do that then.”

“I will.” He said forcefully, but he softly kissed you on the head.

He stopped, and he held you by your arms, and you now turned to face him.

You’ve seen Johnny scared all too many times. He couldn’t sleep for two weeks after he first killed a man. He once started to leave to be running at a beach since he had to check in on an elderly woman’s house, since her bottom floor was soon to be raised. He went into a rage when he realized his parents had moved, and left him a note saying they will be waiting back in Korea for him.

“I-I,”

You softly leaned in and kissed the side of his lips. You’ve done it a hundred times. This time, you meant it as, you will be back. “I love you too, John.”

You opened the door behind you, and you stepped in backwards, watching his presence crumble. His eyes stopped melting, and instead he looked like he was frozen as the door closed. He looked as if he had lost you, again.

The moment you walked in, your nose scrunched up. The stench of fresh flowers had grabbed your sinuses like it was in a chokehold. The room was dim but lit by a faux gold chandelier, with tiny pink wax candles, and the room, from top to bottom, was lined with flowers.

Pressed, fresh, old, molding, you stared at the maker of the scent, and the man himself.

Eos’ hair was softly curled and from his white roots, it was coloured as the dawn, as he looked through his stained glass windows. His entire body, besides his eccentric hair, was hidden by an enormous leather desk chair. His back was turned to you to gaze upon the windows. You wondered how he can even see you.

Psy, isn’t it?” His voice was more natural, but had that tone. That commanding tone of power.

“Yes.” You glanced at your belt and how it was loosely buckled.

“Come another half meter, if you can.” He said naturally.

You almost went forward, before stopping. You crossed your arms. “Tell me why.”

“I beg your pardon, little one?” He uttered, as if you told him something preposterous.

“Are you going to kill me?”

The man laughed, and unlike his voice, it was silent, and came out only in exhales, until it started to turn into a fit of giggles as he showed his hands. Long. Veiny. They grabbed something out of the air until they disappeared behind the chair.

“It is forbidden at the Pound for any spy, especially one of your standard, to see my face. Anyone who does, shall die.”

You rose an eyebrow and you sighed. “Really now?”

You’ve taken down at least six, eight if you count the small drug circles, of organizations in the city. You can name all types of mafia leaders. This one, based just off of the minute you’ve spent in his, it would be kind to be called an office, he was definitely one for the dramatics. One might even say he had a complex of which he was a God.

“Yes, now, just,” his hands were outreaches, and they grabbed a shard of glass. His nimble fingers moved it through his hand, as if he had done it hundreds of times. But, you swore you saw a glimpse of his- “One more step, little one.” He let go of the glass. Please.”

You scoffed quietly, but you did so, and bowed.

There was so much silence you started to tap your belt out of panic. It hasn’t even been 10 seconds. But you felt as if he was ogling you. Eyeing you. Undressing you.

“You’re perfect.”

“I’ll kill you.” You hissed. Definitely a man with a God complex. You wanted to choke him with your belt now.

“Hm-? Oh, forgive me, Psy,” he started to tap something, whether it was his chin, or his shoe, it echoed in your head. “I was thinking. I was going to kill you.”

“Thanks, Eos.”

“Heh, well, I was. Emphasis, Psy, emphasis is something never talked about. I bet you Mr. Money would give you a lecture on something anything but that, no?”

You uncrossed your arms. “What—?”

“Victory has been a spy of mine since the Ripple started. But he’s only a low rank in that stupid little West side shit of his. But you, no no no, you and John built something there. In that little club. And I need you to bomb it out.”

Your mouth was beginning to ache from how many times you started to sigh and scoff at the man, “Do you really think—?”

“I am a man of my word, yes I was going to, but I couldn’t really kill you. Johnny and I made a promise to each other. For you and he to leave Baise happily.” Eos’ hand showed, and it drooped in a laze, as if it was a sort of wish he never wanted to keep. “I will give you a yacht, servants, food, water, a boat out of the island if you take down the Ripple. And you’ll never have to see me, or anyone in a mafia again.”

His hand disappeared, and you heard in his leather chair, he moved, almost as if he was facing you, that his body language was possibly showing he was extremely happy. Or an extreme liar.

“Do we have a deal, Psy?”

You frowned. The Ripple. Your family. People you’ve seen at their worst. They have seen your flaws. They are your only means of happiness and purpose here.

“If I refuse?” You muttered, your arms slowly began to hide yourself. It covered you more than just cross over your chest. Your throat closed up, and you felt like shaking as Eos smiled through his words.

“If you refuse to obey me, Psy, removing Johnny permanently from your life shall be your only consequence.” The sound of adjustment, and he tapped something again. That fucking echo.

He knew he won.

#kwritersworldnet #ultkpopnetwork #nctnetwrite #kpop imagines #kpop fan fiction #nct #fanfiction #kpop #nct fanfiction #nct 127 #nct 127 angst #dee writes #4 Something

4 notes · View notes

yakkety-yak-art · 5 years

Text

Me Ranting About the CWS Not Being Inclusive to Disabled PPL

OKAY. So. I went to a College World Series game today with my family, in Omaha, Nebraska. it was opening day today, so we knew it would be packed, and the doors opened at eleven. The game started at one. Now, I could rant about how the CWS runs rampant with human trafficking, or about the money-grubbing snakes who sell people parking spots for a few hours for twenty bucks a pop even though they’re basically a whole city away from the game--but nope. I’m going to rant about how sucky the CWS is for handicapped/disabled people.

Now, I am going to be one of the first people to admit that downtown Omaha is absolute garbage at actually having handicapped spots. While it is the law that having them is necessary, there is not law saying HOW many you have to have. So that leads to there being one handicapped spot per block, AT MOST. While I myself am not disabled, my eldest sister is, and on most days she needs a cane to walk properly. Not to mention, my parents, while not *legally* recognized as handicapped, have a lot of leg problems and so I know what it’s like being stuck in situations where things are not as accessible as they should be, and it angers me that the people I love have to deal with this kind of thing.

So, we’re driving around, and it’s about eleven thirty at this point. Busy, of course, so we are driving around searching EVERYWHERE for a spot. Lo and behold, the, like, two handicapped spots are already taken, so we continue our search. We see a sign with the handicapped symbol on it. We think that perhaps some Good Samaritan somewhere has taken it upon themselves to rent out a lot specifically for the handicapped, but nope, it’s just a drop-off. Well, that’s just fine and dandy, but what about the handicapped people who are the drivers? Eventually, we find a free meter spot (it’s Sunday, so we don’t have to feed it) and it’s multiple blocks away. My sister had left her cane at home, thinking that she wouldn’t need it, a choice she is now regretting. At least, we think, we’ll be able to ride the elevator at the stadium to avoid too much walking!

Ha.

So we get up to one of the doors, we get scanned through security, and we enter the doors to the elevators. There are lots of elderly people in there and some younger people. The attendant immediately spots us, and as my sister gets out her disability card thing, she tells us that we aren’t allowed to use this elevator, as we have general admission tickets. We have to go all the way around the block to get in. so, she waves away my dumbfounded family, sending off a d i s a b l e d w o m a n w h o c a n h a r d l y w a l k b y h e r s e l f to walk even more instead of just letting us take the elevator.

We start heading over there, and of course, it’s June, it’s sweltering. My parents and my sister are in immense pain at this point, as it would have been nice if there had been SIGNS telling us that this stupid event was so classist as to not allow GA disabled ppl to use the elevator so we wouldn’t have to do so much walking, but we eventually get to this big entrance thing that looks like it’s probably general admission. We ask an attendant, and he says, nope, further down the block. At this point my mom is pretty fed up, and asks about any handicapped accessible entrances--to which he points back to the way we came and tells us to use the ADA elevator. The elevator that we just got turned away from. First off, I don’t know wtf an “American Disabilities Act elevator” is, and second of all, seriously?? At this point we decide to just walk the little bit further up to the GA entrance since it’s closer, and because the attendant tells us that there is a ramp instead of stairs. So we walk on and enter the area we are supposed to enter into (again, there are no signs, but this is the only other entrance), and WHAT DO WE SEE?

Ten handicapped spots, being blocked off from public use so that the CWS sponsor trucks can park haphazardly right next to the building. The only time I’ve seen something worse than that is when me and my mom (who was in a wheelchair at the time) went to an event center and the ENTIRE handicapped parking lot had been rented out by a rich, abled dude for his private parking. And, to put the cherry on top, the “ramp” was a steep ass thing that went all the way up the building, and I guarantee anyone in a wheelchair would struggle to get five feet up that thing. Plus! Isn’t it funny! How the u n u s a b l e handicapped spots! Are all the way over by this stupid ramp thingy instead of the handicapped elevator???

Yeah basically it sucked and it was absolute garbage and just felt like letting it out. Very disappointed. The CWS has been in Omaha for years, so idk how they/the event planners haven’t been sued yet.

#omaha #nebraska #disability #crichwine talks #non ada compliant #handicapped #college world series

30 notes · View notes

ko-fanatic · 5 years

Text

Growing Spoons (part one)

Rating: Teen (???)

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

Relationships: Eventual Kyoya x Mori

Content Warnings: Fibromyalgia, chronic pain, chronic illness, disability

Summary: It was a bad day. It was one of those days where he felt as if his legs were being ripped from his body, and all he could do was lay in bed. He couldn't even think about swinging his legs out of bed, let alone going to school. He really needed to learn to keep track of his spoons.

The ringing from Kyoya’s fifth alarm clock rang throughout his bedroom, adding yet another layer of grating sound to the cacophony that attempted to get him up each morning. He knew Tachibana was dutifully waiting beyond the door, there to just make sure he didn’t manage to sleep through them, and he’d often help him with some of his morning routine before school.

Objectively, he supposed the golden sun and jubilant birdsong streaming in from the skylight would give many the impression that it was a lovely day. However, he wasn’t under any such delusions. He’d been awake since before the first alarm rang, the sheets wound around his hands in a white-knuckled grip and face shoved into his pillow. It was annoying, how he either slept for twelve full hours or woke up so early. He blames the later on the pain, however; while awaking to the sensation of rusted screws twisting through his hips and knees wasn’t that unusual for him, it was never pleasant.

It wasn’t even like it really mattered how much sleep he got, anyway; he was constantly exhausted. He dragged himself up and kept going no matter how much he wanted to just lay in bed, because he had to. Just laying there, vegetating, wasn’t going to help him.

On days like this, however, he couldn’t even imagine getting up. Every small movement only increased the throbbing, stiff pain. It was like his joints were being soldered together, like iron girders. He couldn’t even roll over to turn off his alarms, even if the incessant beeping was almost maddening. He was trying to just… psych himself up for it, to manage through the flare of pain rolling over would inevitably cause.

His stomach was already rolling, nausea hitting him in waves. He never vomited, just felt like he would. It was strange how fucked up his body was, even if it was just a singular, underlying issue.

Fibromyalgia. He hated it, being so tired and in pain. It wasn’t even that its inconsistency was a saving grace; it just confused people. He could do something one day and find it impossible the next, and it was frustrating for everyone involved. Even if the teachers were told not to piss off the students, he could feel the doubt emanating off his gym instructor as he sat out of an activity, even if he was relying on his cane to move around.

It was embarrassing, in that vain and petty way that seems to bother people the most. He was a teenager who limped like an old man, relying on a walking stick. He was delicate and so fucking drained, and he couldn’t even figure out how to manage his spoons. He was in such a minority; most fibro suffers being female, which already put him in the ten percent, but also being so young. The average age when this issue flared up was forty-five and he was only seventeen. It felt like it was impossible to just be a teenager, planning everything around fatigue and fluctuating symptoms and not even knowing if he’d be able to stand the next day.

Then, there were days like today, so close to unbearable, but he couldn’t make himself scream out. Because where was the dignity in that? Helplessly mewling any name that came to mind in the hopes that they’d… what? They couldn’t do anything, and that was one of the most annoying parts of it. He wanted it all gone.

But it never would be. You manage fibro, you can’t cure it. Not to mention that he was just plain awful at managing it. Spoons ran out too quickly, and he couldn’t tell how many he had left until there were none and he was dipping into the day after’s supply. He tried to do too much, all at once, because that was just how things got done.

“Kyoya? Are you awake?”

The door pushed open to reveal Tachibana’s silhouette, outlined by the light from the room beyond, and he could only wipe his damp face with his sleeve and try to seem more put together. After all, if Tachibana saw him crying, he’d worry and there was no point in that – he’d gotten through worse days. Still, the pain just felt so intense, and there was no way he could even get to the bathroom himself – even with his cane – let alone school.

“Oh, Kyoya…” He heard the man sigh, fingers combing gently through his hair, careful to avoid any knots, and the grating calamity was finally silenced, “It’s a bad day, isn’t it?”

At any other times, his reply would be sarcastic. He’d throw out some flippant comment and slowly – so, so slowly – push himself out from beneath the covers. Now, however, he couldn’t make himself think of one, his brain too foggy and the pain too intense. He just nodded, letting out a long, stuttered breath in the hopes of draining the tension from his shoulders, legs and hips. Tachibana just kept stroking his hair, trying to relax him, even just a little.

“Do you have any spoons?” Tachibana asked, “If you think you can manage going to school in your wheelchair, then you probably –”

“No,” He refused, voice far too close to a whimper for his liking. It wasn’t as if he’d even be able to concentrate in this state, and while it was good to show that he at least made the effort to go in, he… couldn’t. Not in the chair. His cane already got odd looks, but he could make it work; he could still be intimidating and powerful, but as some skinny, pathetic boy in a wheelchair?

It was stupid, really. To be concerned by something so ultimately meaningless. If someone didn’t take him seriously, then that was their loss. They’d soon pay for it – it was karmic retribution.

Tachibana seemed to take his refusal in stride, however, simply agreeing that perhaps he should stay home. What was the point in using spoons he just didn’t have?

“I’ll go call the school to let them know, and get your hot water bottles,” The older man informed, short nails dully scraping over his scalp. Hot water bottles helped, as did painkillers and topical creams and balms. His bedside table was covered in them, but they were just out of reach from where he currently was. He’d try moving in a minute, but for now he just squeezed his eyes shut, trying to go back to sleep.

It was all he could do on days like these, after all.

A/N: This is kinda an introductory chapter, don't worry, we'll get to that sweet MoriKyo content soon. This is kinda a vent fic tbh, as... I might have fibro myself. I certainly have some sort of condition, anyway. I've been in bed Suffering for the past few days, so guess who's getting my shit dumped all over him, yay! I also suck at regulating my spoons.

But in all seriousness, I'm not officially diagnosed yet, it might not be fibro. If you see anything inaccurate in this fic then... that's why.

#ouran high school host club #ohshc #kyoya ootori #growing spoons series #my fanfiction

19 notes · View notes

levi-inthesun · 6 years

Text

Do You Trust Me? Chapter Two

Peter x OC Colette

A/N: sorry It’s been a hot minute since my last update, but here we go! Chapter three will be up in the next few days, and I am currently writing chapter 4!

Tags: @dungeons-and-awkwarddragons @bigexplodingstar

“Alrighty then!” Tony exclaimed as you walked in for another day of testing “Lets get this started shall we?” he had a glint of… something in his eyes. Like he was planning something and you weren’t’ sure if it was making you feel nervous or excited. Over the past few days you had loads of blood drawn, different types of scans and x rays, and they even took a sample of your cartilage (which somehow did not hurt as much as you anticipated). In addition you had gotten an upgrade you that could have only dreamt up to your mobility aids (Your wheelchair could change between a sitting or standing position, but it had an option to FREAKING LEVITATE. You were pretty pumped about that. And then they gave you a new, much sleeker looking cane which took the pressure off of your wrist),. Today, you saw various types of workout equipment scattered across the lab connected to different machines with various wires hanging off of them.

Swallowing loudly, you turned to face the small group of people who formed your ‘team’ “I have to workout today, don’t I?”

“If by work out you mean use the equipment so we can monitor you, then yes, you get to work out today.” Dr. Banner picked up a clipboard before walking over to you. “We need to see how different parts of your nervous system are reacting to different kinds of movement, this way we can see what triggers you’ll want to avoid. Before we get started, is there anything you know already that makes you feel worse in any way?”

“Running… I can’t-” Your mom interrupted you before you could go any further, thankfully stopping the emotions that started bubbling up in your throat.

“Coco used to run track and cross country in high school, that’s how we found out about the Osteoarthritis, it’s really bad in her knees.” Your mom knows what a sensitive subject running is for you. It had been your ‘thing’. You were one of the fastest kids in your school until the excruciating pain started.

“That reminds me!” Tony practically yelled before he ran off. Coming back not even a minute later with a few odd looking cuffs. “Tony, I already told you those don’t help me. I have tried wearing knee, elbow and wrist supports. They do nothing.”

The smile on his face didn’t fade, much to your surprise.

“These aren’t ordinary braces or supports kid. Actually, Peter! Get your spidey-ass over here!” Tony called to the room he had just came out of. Peter slowly emerged from the room looking a little caught off guard. “Uh yeah Mr. Stark, what do you need? Are they not working??” looking worried until he saw they were still in Tony’s hands.

“Peter here helped me make these. Underoos, why don’t you explain to Colette what they’ll do?”

“Yeah! Okay sure! So Colette, we used some of the same technology as Mr. Stark’s Iron Man suit, but with a bit more tinkering. They should completely take any pressure off of your joints. Making it less painful for you… You could probably even run again!” he said with a huge smile on his face.

“Oh! Wait… are you serious?” Wide eyed from the possibility of running and moving without pain made you act without thinking. You walked over to where Peter was standing and enveloped him in a huge hug. Once you realized what you were doing you pulled back quickly, both of your faces reddening.

“Alright, well if you two are done flirting with each other, and might I add, quite awkwardly, let’s get started!” Tony eyed the two of you before raising his eyebrow at the boy before handing you a small stack of clothes, if you could call them that.

They had you change into a pair of spandex shorts and a sports bra, both with a small version of the stark industries symbol on them. You swiftly realized that this way they could connect a bunch of wires to you, without having to tuck underneath more clothing. It also made it easier for the braces to be placed properly.

“Hey Peter, why don’t you show Colette how to adjust the braces while Jolly Green and I get everything else set up?”

Before giving him time to react he shoved Peter towards where you were sitting trying to figure out how to get them on. Peter audibly gulped before walking the rest of the way over. You hadn’t been self conscious about being in so little clothing up until Peter was sitting in front of you.

“Here, let me help” Peter took the knee brace from you, opened it up and attached it around your knee, having a cuff below and above your joint. After helping with the other one he looked back up at you staring slightly before you cleared your throat, bringing him back into reality. He had been kneeling in front of you and was very close to your face.

“Uh, here is how you turn it on and this button will adjust how much pressure is left on your actual joint.” he quickly got up and walked away, leaving you to play with the new tech on your legs, and watched from a few feet away while you put the different cuffs on your other joints. After finishing adjusting the cuffs so that they felt more comfortable, you gave yourself a once over, realizing your shorts had buttons similar to the cuffs on your joints.

“Hey Tony, are these shorts-” “Yes! The kid didn’t tell you? Those shorts are a little more advanced than your other support cuffs, it will automatically adjust so all you have to do is turn them on. It may be a little uncomfortable at first, but you should find it’s easier and less painful to move your hips.” Tony swayed his hips at you since, well, Tony is just a little bit extra.

Peter and Tony wanted you to try running first, since that was one of your favorite pre-illness activities.

Nervously, you stepped up onto the treadmill as Dr. Cho hooked up a couple wires to different spots on your chest, abdomen and then up your spine.

“Okay kid, whenever you’re ready.” Dr. Banner said as he and Dr. Cho turned to watch the machine you were plugged into.

You decided you should start slowly since your body wasn’t used to running anymore. You turned the treadmill on and walked for a few minutes, leaning down a little to adjust your knee cuffs a little bit more. Once you realized you weren’t in pain, you hit the accelerator button a few times, and then a few more, and for the first time in 4 years, you were running. Looking to the others in your excitement, you saw them smiling and taking notes. Your mom was in the corner, watching with tears in her eyes. Spotting her put you over the edge, tears spilling from you eyes as she came over to you. You hit the “STOP” button, hopped off and embraced her. You both fell to the floor, as you both started sobbing uncontrollably.

After a few minutes passed and your tears started to subside, you remembered you had an audience. Giving your mom another hearty squeeze you both got up. You were still out of breath from running (and sobbing your eyes out), but you managed to let out a small thank you. Looking up you saw your ‘team’ with tears in their eyes too. Except Peter, who was nowhere to be seen.

After composing yourself you continued on with the different tests. Your mom had to leave about thirty minutes later for work, so now it was just you, Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho. Tony had left to work on some of his other inventions.

You were pleasantly surprised with your physical ability now that you didn’t have pain in your joints. You weren’t strong by any means, you could barely bench the empty press. By about 2 pm however, you were more than worn out and your nerve pain was starting to kick it up a few more notches. In addition to this, you were nearing the emotional stage of exhaustion. Once Banner noticed your current state he decided that what you had done was more than enough for one day. After changing back into your clothes and taking the braces off, you sat yourself in your wheelchair and made your way back to your room.

“FRIDAY, could you order me some take out from that Thai place down the street?”

“Of course Coco, would you like your usual?” FRIDAY asked in response.

“Yup! Thanks FRIDAY!”

You took a shower while you waited for your food, letting the warm water envelope your sore and tired body until you remembered you were waiting for some food. Pulling on your favorite pair of sweatpants and an old t shirt, you sat on your bed and pulled out your music collection. You decided on a mix you had made of your favorite songs by Birdy. Two songs later you heard a knock on your door. Forgetting your pain for a minute, you jumped up to open it where you saw Peter with an expanse of take out food.

“I made FRIDAY let me know when you wanted food, I thought maybe we could eat together?… sorry… I realize that’s probably weird… I can just leave these here for you.”

“Nonsense, that is actually really sweet of you Peter.” you smiled sweetly at him and let him in

“Oh, yeah, okay, no problem!” He started setting out all the food and told you what everything was.

Once the two of you had settled into eating he noticed you staring at him.

“Oh no, is there something on my face? I’ve been told I am not the cleanest eater” he said, wiping his face off with a napkin.

“No, you’re face is fine... I was… I was just wondering where you disappeared off too earlier?”

“Oh, um, I just… I had something I had to go do?”

“Are you actually asking me or are you trying to make something up?”

“Dang ok. I just. Please don’t think I am weird… actually you probably already think I am. That’s fine just. Um. Look, Colette-” “Please call me Coco” you said setting your hand on his “I already convinced FRIDAY too”.

“Yeah, okay, Coco” he smiled as the nickname left his lips. Feeling Peter’s hand move under yours (and realizing you were still holding his hand) you started to move it back onto your lap, until you saw he was turning his hand to play with yours as he started talking.

“Coco. I was honestly floored that the cuffs Mr. Stark and I had made were working. We had them tested way more that necessary because we didn’t want them to end up hurting you instead of helping. And when I saw them working, I couldn’t contain my excitement. When you broke down however, I honestly thought you were in pain and let me tell you, I was crushed just like that. I snuck out because I… well… I couldn’t stand seeing that I had caused you so much pain, I just couldn’t handle it… Tony had found me later telling me that that wasn’t the case, which I am so glad, you have no idea how relieved I was.” Peter turned his body so that he was facing you, still playing with your hand. “The other reason I left was, well, I was scared I had given you false hope about running again… and… and I knew that if that had been the case, you wouldn’t want to be around me, which would suck because I honestly think you’re the coolest person I have ever met.” At that he looked back up to you, shocked to see a giant smile on your face as you stared at his hands holding yours.

“Coco, what?” “I uh, I think you’re really cool too Peter” you looked up, meeting his eyes “I uh, I never got to thank you for the work you did on the cuffs, so… thank you” you whispered as you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Ducking your head away as quickly as your lips had met his face, you pulled your hand back and continued eating the food in front of you. If you hadn’t looked away so fast, you would have seen Peter staring at you with wide eyes, mouth open, his hand touching the place on his cheek that you had just kissed. Peter could feel his heart racing and was positive you could hear it too.

Standing up abruptly, Peter made an excuse about leaving as he ran out of your room, shutting the door behind him.

Once Peter had made it safely to his room, he shut his door and leaned up against it for a moment, almost in a trance before he started dancing around the room as if he had won the lottery, practically singing the words “she liiiiiiiiikes me!!!!!! I think she likes! Me! AHH!” before plopping down on his bed.

After Peter left, you started to worry you crossed a line. Dang it! I shouldn’t have done that! You internally screamed at yourself. You liked Peter, obviously. Why did you have to go and ruin everything like that? He probably just saw you as a friend.

Once cleaning up the leftovers was finished you plopped down on your bed, remembering the events of the day, you were ready to sleep. You couldn’t get your anxiety about Peter to wind down, but you did eventually fall asleep.

Around 2 am, Peter heard you screaming from his room, which was just around the corner from yours. Thinking the worst, he jumped out of bed and rushed down the hallway, throwing your door open.

Seeing you thrashing around your bed, your blankets thrown everywhere. He happened to see your pj’s, and realized you were only wearing a tanktop and some short shorts. Your screaming and panicking brought him back to the issue at hand, and away from how cute you looked in your little pajamas.

Kneeling down next to you, he tried shaking you awake.

“Coco! Wake up! It’s okay, it’s just me, it’s Peter” he continued shaking you and calling to you. After a few minutes he realized that it wasn’t getting you anywhere, he called your mom, knowing she would know what to do.

“Hello?” your mother answered the phone “who is this?” “Uh, Ms. Barton, So sorry to call so late, it’s Peter, uh, Peter Parker” “What’s wrong is everything okay???” When she heard you in the background she asked again, more sternly this time. “Is Colette okay Peter?!”

“Ms. Barton, Coco is having a nightmare, I think. I can’t wake her up. She keeps thrashing and screaming and I don’t know what to do!” Peter responded in a panicked voice.

“Okay, okay, this happens often. If you stroke/play with her hair it will help her calm down. It’s what I would do to get her to wake up.” she said hurriedly. “I am on my way, okay?”

“Okay, thank you Ms. Barton! I will see what I can do until you get here!”

After hanging up with your mom, he tentatively placed a hand on your head. Once he started playing with your hair and talking to you in a hushed tone, you started to calm down. Finally your eyes shot open in a panic.

“Colette! It’s okay, its just me.”

Looking over to the voice, you instantly relaxed.

“Peter, what are you doing in here?” you asked with shaky breaths.

“I heard you screaming. Your mom is on her way over to make sure you’re okay” he was looking at you tenderly as he continued to play with your hair. “Do you get dreams like that a lot?”

“Uh, yeah. Sometimes. They started a few years ago.” you said flatly. They were always about the abuse you faced at the hands of your father.

“Do you, do you want to talk about it? I am a very good listener.” He said proudly.

“Not right now, thank you though. I should call my mom to tell her she doesn’t have to come.”

Throughout your phone call with your mom, Peter stayed with you, still running his fingers through your long hair.

You could feel yourself relaxing more and more and Peter continued to touch you comfortingly. When he noticed you started falling back asleep, he slowly got up, not wanting to wake you.

“Hey, Peter?”

Turning back around he responded, “Sorry, I was trying to be quite.”

“No, you’re fine… I was just wondering, if you could stay, until I fall back asleep at least?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Peter replied too quickly.

Noting his enthusiasm, you smiled sheepishly at him and moved your blankets so he could get in with you.

“Would you… would you keep playing with my hair?” you asked as he slide in next to you.

“Of course” he whispered as he pulled you over to him.

You both fell asleep quickly.

You woke up sometime after noon. Even though you were still exhausted and not at all rested, you slowly stretched your tired limbs and opened your eyes. When you realized Peter was gone, you let out a disappointed sigh. Then, you saw a note on your bedside table. Groaning at the movement, you reached over to pick it up.

Coco,

I was called on a mission and I didn’t want to wake you up. Sorry for falling asleep when you just asked me to stay just until you did. I remembered you like smoothies, so there is one in your fridge waiting for you.

I also was hoping, if you feel up to it I mean, and please don’t feel like you have to say yes… um would you want to go see a movie with me tomorrow night? We don’t have to actually go anywhere, there is a screening room here at the compound.

Anyways, just let me know. I should be back around 3pm tomorrow.

Try and get some rest.

Have a great day! :) Peter Parker

As you read, and reread the note, you felt the familiar butterflies erupting in your stomach and in your heart.

“Aaaaaah!” you scream, falling back onto your bed all while holding the note to your chest.

….Meanwhile on the mission...

“So Web brains, why do you keep avoiding me???” Clint asked over the ear piece as he shot an arrow at a HYDRA agent.

“What? Uh, what are you talking about Mr. Hawkeye?” He said as he swung up onto a building to keep lookout.

“You know exactly what I am talking about kid. Natasha, back me up here?”

“Yeah, you aren’t as sneaky as you think you are” Natasha’s voice came over the comm “listen, we all know you have a HUGE and not so subtle crush on Colette. You might as well man up and face Barton.” Underneath his mask, Peter was turning bright red.

“Wait, that’s what this is about?!” Clint said in surprise “I didn’t even realize… I am a freaking spy and I didn’t realize…..”

Peter didn’t reply until after he took down another agent on the roof he was on.

“Uh yeah… Mr. Hawkeye, I may have asked your niece out on a date for tomorrow night. I hope that is okay…” he said quietly, awaiting his response.

“Look kid” Hawkeye sounded a little exasperated “Coco might as well be my daughter.”

Peter’s heart dropping, assuming he was about to get told off.

“But she is an adult, and very capable of handling herself. That being said, you hurt her and you will find an arrow with your name on it stuck in that pretty little face you’ve got. Got it?”

“UHYESMR.HAWKEYESIR.”

Once the threat was neutralized, those who weren’t needed any longer went back to the quinjet. Deciding to play some games on his phone to kill time, Peter found he had a text from you.

Coco: (1pm) Hey there Spiderman! I found your note, and the smoothie, it was amazing! And I would love to go out with you tomorrow night :) Be safe!

Peter let out a happy squeal, only to remember he wasn’t alone. Straightening his face back out he shot you a text back

Back at the compound

Since you were wracked with fatigue, you decided to take it easy. You had taken a nice long bath (in the super fancy and HUGE tub you had in your bathroom), taken a 4 hour long nap, and let netflix ask you a few times if you were ‘still watching’ while binging parks and rec for the 10th time in your life.

You heard your phone go off as you were braiding your hair. Picking it up, you smiled to yourself seeing who it was from.

Spiderman: (10:50 pm) Awesome! We just have to get some intel then we will be headed back. I am excited to see you tomorrow :) Goodnight Coco :)

Without a second thought you shot him a text back before turning off the light and climbing into bed.

Coco: (10:52 pm) Glad to hear it :) Goodnight Peter :)

The next day, you went to see if Natasha or Wanda happened to be home. After no luck, you wandered over to the lab, knowing that Dr. Banner hadn’t gone on the mission yesterday. He wasn’t your first choice in having someone help you get ready for your date, but he was someone, and the two of you had grown closer recently. You felt like he was family, a second uncle, actually.

“Uh, hey Dr. Banner” you said as he looked up from where he was working “I need a favor…”

After explaining the situation, Bruce sighed before answering. “Really? Is Wanda or Natasha not here? What about your mom?” he said in an almost panicked voice.

“Nope, they’re on a mission, and my mom couldn’t get any time off today…” looking at the ground, you shuffled your feet uncomfortably.

“Okay.” he groaned “Fine. I will help you. You should know this is not my area of expertise.”

Looking back up to him, you jumped up to give him a big hug “Thank you sooo so much! I promise I will make it up to you!” you said excitedly as he gave you an awkward pat on the back.

Soon, you and Bruce Banner, the freaking Hulk, were out at a shopping mall. Banner was looking only slightly uncomfortable as the two of you looked through the racks of clothes.

“What do you think of this?” You asked, showing him a cute, short dress.

“No way Coco, your uncle would KILL me if I let you go on a date in that”.

You purse your lips and nodded in agreement, putting it back

After going back and forth showing each other different pieces of clothes, Bruce was the one to find you the perfect outfit for your date. It was a fitted green tee shirt dress, paired with a cream colored crochet cardigan with fringe on the bottom hem.

After trying it on, and finding some cute but comfortable shoes, you guys were headed back to the compound.

After about ten minutes of comfortable silence, you realized you hadn’t ever been on a date.

“Uh, Dr. Banner?” “Kid, we just went shopping together, I think we are on a first name basis by now. What’s up?” “Okay… Bruce? Um… I feel a little weird asking you this, but uh… I haven’t ever been on a date before…. I was pulled out of school before I could really get into all that.”

“Oh” he replied. “Well, what questions do you have… I may be able to answer them…. Actually couldn’t you just call your mom?” he looked at you with a worried expression.

“No, she has a major project she is working on… Please Uncle Bruce?”

At hearing you call him your uncle, he automatically melted, realizing you could ask him to do just about anything and he would do it for you.

“Alright, hit me.”

The two of you talked the whole rest of the ride back to the compound, and the ride back up the elevator.

Once the elevator doors opened to the residential floor, you remembered one last thing. You quickly turned around and put your arm in the way of the closing doors.

“WAIT! Before you go…. What do I do if he... Uh, you know… tries to kiss me?” you asked, face bright red.

“Well” Bruce stopped, scratching the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable, “If you want to kiss him, kiss him back? BUT if you don’t want to, don’t. Okay? And if he tries to kiss you even if you tell him not to, kick him where it hurts and call me and a certain unfriendly green giant will deal with the kid. I’ve got to go work on somethings now, bye Coco.” You let the elevator doors close and you made your way to your room.

This might be your first date, but you had seen plenty of rom-coms to know the best way to get ready for one was to blast your favorite music.

Knowing that the artificial intelligence had a better sound set up than you, and knowing you had the residential floor all to yourself, you decided FRIDAY was the best option to get you geared up for your date.

“Hey, FRIDAY? Could you play anything by the band Haim?” “Of course, Coco” the AI responded. Soon you heard the first beats to ‘falling’ one of your favorite songs by them.

You danced around a little as you got ready, putting on some light makeup, and taking your hair out of the braids you had put them in after your shower the day before. You threw your outfit on, and ran your fingers through your hair a few more times.

Spiderman: (3:20 pm) Hey Coco! Sorry. We are just getting back and I need a shower. I seriously don’t think I have smelled this bad in a loooong time. I’ll be ready to go around 4 if that works for you???

Spiderman: (3:20 pm) Uh tmi… sorry!!!!!!

Not a minute later he got a text back

Coco: (3:21 pm) Sounds good to me! Glad you got back safely :)

Spiderman: (3:21 pm) Thanks Coco :) I’ll see you in a bit!!!! :)

Peter made it to your room at exactly 3:59. He had rushed through his shower and tried on at least 5 different outfits, making sure he looked perfect. He was all done by about 3:45 and had been talking aloud to himself for the last 15 minutes, trying to hype himself up to go knock on your door.

“Okay Peter, you are Spiderman. An Avenger!!!!! You have fought tons of bad guys. Hell, you’ve stolen Captain America’s shield from him! YOU CAN DO THIS.”

Finally, seeing that it was about 4, he quickly checked his reflection one last time before running out the door.

You had jumped the gun and was ready by the time Peter had texted you. This had given you too much time and spent it sitting around, playing with your hair, fidgeting with your dress, and second guessed your outfit about 10 times already. When you finally heard a knock on your door, you jumped up immediately. You threw the door open, and saw Peter standing there, looking amazing. His brown hair was in it’s normal messy curls. He was wearing a fitted red short sleeved, printed button up and dark fitted jeans. You could have sworn your heart had leapt out of your chest when he finally looked up at you, a huge smile playing on his lips as he checked you out.

“Um, hey Peter” you said shyly as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Hey Coco, you uh, you look incredible” he said quietly before giving you his arm “you ready to go?”

Looping your arm in his you nodded as he led you out of the hallway.

Of course though, you lived with a bunch of extremely protective people who considered the both of you family, so everyone, and I mean EVERYONE was gathered in the living room.

You heard Peter curse quietly under his breath before giving you an apologetic look. “Um, everyone sort of berated me for details of this evening… sorry.”

“It’s okay Peter, I assumed this would happen” you both took a deep breath before continuing on.

“Ah! There they are!” Tony said, announcing your presence.

“Didn’t think you could sneak away without saying goodbye to us first did you?” Steve said before giving Peter a pat on the back.

“Okay guys move out of the way!” you heard your mom from the back of the group “Oh baby you looks so beautiful! When did you get that dress???”

“Oh uh, actually I made Uncle Bruce take me shopping earlier.” you said, giving Bruce an apologetic look.

“BRUCE? Really?” Natasha said as she stared wide eyed at the scientist.

“Dang it Coco, I knew I should have sworn you to secrecy, I am never going to hear the end of this…” he said with a sigh as he glared at Natasha and Wanda who were in a fit of laughter at the idea of Bruce helping you shop.

“Well, thank you for helping her pick out some clothes. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you earlier, but looks like you were in good hands!” your mom said before kissing your temple. “Okay kids, get together! I have to get some photos!” She said excitedly.

You just groaned, looking up at Peter, mouthing the word ‘sorry’ as you two posed for some pictures.

You let your mom fuss over you for a few more minutes, surprised when not only your Uncle Clint, but Steve and Bucky fussed over you as well.

“Now Peter, you're alright and all, but if you hurt or even disappoint our Coco, we will have no choice but to murder you.” Bucky said as he glared down at the fidgeting boy, behind him Steve was standing with his arms crossed, making him look even larger than he already was. “We know where you sleep” Steve said, both of them backing up as they continued to glare.

Finally you guys made it out and away from the mass of your protectors. You had decided to get out of the compound for the evening, realizing having a private date would be virtually impossible with everyone you guys lived with. You were nervous enough without having everyone around to watch.

Once you guys made it to the car lot, Peter went to open your door.

“Colette, you really do look beautiful” he said as he let you into one of Tony’s more inconspicuous cars.

“Thank you” you said, barely above a whisper.

Peter bit his bottom lip as he grinned widely, running around the car to get in.

He put the car in gear and started heading out to the street.

“So Spiderman, where are we going?” you said as you fiddled with the radio, stopping once you found your favorite oldies station.

“Well, I figured we could go get something to eat, and then I promised you a movie, didn’t I?”

He pulled the car into the parking lot for an old-fashioned looking diner.

You fidgeted with your dress again and adjusted the cuffs you were wearing on your knees as Peter ran around the car to get your door.

The diner was mostly empty, so you guys picked a booth near the back, next to the jukebox.

The two of you talked all through dinner and continued way past the time you were supposed to head out for the movie, but neither of you noticed.

You loved talking to Peter. You loved how excited he got about seemingly small things, and you loved how comfortable you felt with him. Yeah you were nervous and awkward, but that was simply because this was all new to you.

Little did you know, Peter was absolutely infatuated with you. Everything you did he noticed. Like how you would perk up when he asked you about something you really enjoyed or were passionate about. Or how when you were feeling especially nervous you would bite your bottom lip and play with a few stubborn strands of hair that kept hanging in front of your face.

“Wait a second. You can dance?! How come this didn’t come up earlier??”

“I dunno. Can you dance?” he asked

“Nope. I have two left feet” you laughed to yourself, remembering the last time you had actually danced with someone had been back in the 7th grade.

“Well, how about I be the judge of that!” Peter stood up, holding his hand out to you, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No... no way! I really don’t need to embarrass myself like THAT. You already have a lot of knowledge you could use against me!” He let his hand fall with a scowl on his face. You thought you were gonna get away with this, but instead, Peter sauntered over to the jukebox, hitting a few buttons before he dance-walked over to you as he started singing along to Be My Baby by the Ronettes, pretending to hold a microphone in his hand.

“The night we met I knew I needed you so!”

“Oh no!” you gasped hiding your face in your hands.

“And if I had the chance I wouldn’t let you go!” He fell onto his knees in front of you dramatically as he continued, a little louder this time.

“So won’t you say you love me! I’ll make you so proud of me. We’ll make them turn their heads, every place we go!”

He took your hands, and swiftly pulled the both of you to your feet.

“SO WON’T YOU PLEASE! BE MY LITTLE BABY!” the song continued in the background and his lips were next to your ear “don’t be nervous” he whispered, “you could do anything and I’d think you were amazing”.

You bit your lip (for like the 100th time that night) and finally let Peter swing you around a small area the had staff cleared once they realized what Peter was up to. Soon ‘My Girl’ was playing and you finally let loose and was singing along as Peter continued to spin you around the restaurant. A few songs went by and you guys were still dancing and giggling and smiling widely at each other. Soon you heard ‘Dream a Little Dream of Me’ come on and Peter drew you in closer. He quietly hummed along as you guys swayed to the song.

Much to your dismay, the song ended, and a gentle quietness grew as you took a step back to look at Peter. He was smiling down at you, his eyes flicking between your eyes and your lips. Feeling a little braver than normal, you took a small step forward. You felt your heart flutter as you both leaned in to the other. Your eyes closed as you felt his lips brush gently on your own. Once his lips leave yours Peter pulled you in to a close warm hug with you smiling into the superheroes chest.

Soon sound of an upbeat song pulled you both out of the trance you had found yourselves in. Uprooting yourself out of his embrace, you smiled shyly towards the ground and sat back at your booth, him following your lead.

After a moment the waitress who had helped you guys made her way back to your table with the check. Come to find out, the diner was supposed to close about 10 minutes ago, but didn’t want to interrupt the two of you. In addition, the diner owner had been there and gave you guys a discount because you two had been ‘so damn cute’.

Once the bill was paid and you guys were on the road again, you finally saw the time. You guys had spent the whole evening at the little diner.

“So, uh, looks like we are a little late for our movie” you glanced at Peter, who still had the biggest smile on his handsome face, causing him to look even more attractive than you thought humanly possible. You made a mental note to try to make him smile more often.

“Yeah, wow. We sure did lose track of time didn’t we?” Noticing he was driving back to the compound, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

“Tonight isn’t over quite yet Coco, don’t worry.” He said, grabbing your hand to leave a chaste kiss, bringing back the smile he loved so much.

“Care to let me in on what’s coming next?”

“Well, I promised you a movie didn’t I?” “That you did.” “I cannot break my promise, especially without the threats Bucky and Steve gave hanging over me!” at that you laughed. You had been surprised at the Winter Soldiers protectiveness.

Once you guys had made it back to the compound, Peter parked in an odd spot. The oddness continued when he walked with you around the back of the building.

“Now, I know how good the security system of this place is, but I made a deal with Tony so that no one will bug us…. Do you trust me Colette?”

“”What?” you asked, having an odd sense of deja vu.

��Do you trust me?” “Yes.”

Peter pulled you into him, “hold on tight” he whispered. This time, you realized what was going to happen and soon the two of you were flying through the air, with you were clinging onto Peter tightly.

Once you felt solid ground beneath your feet, you let your grip loosen and let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

“Ah, I was wondering if you two would ever show up” Tony said nonchalantly. “Everything's all ready for ya kid.”

Before completely leaving the two of you alone he added “be a gentleman, or I will not hesitate to let Bucky and Steve know what happened. FRIDAY will be watching.” He winked at you and walked off.

Peter grabbed your hand, bringing you in through the patio door and down the hallway. Soon you found yourself in a giant room, filled with large plush chairs and an even bigger screen up front.

#hippietaco writes #peter parker x oc #marvel fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #please give feedback

13 notes · View notes