#edith makes it possible to breathe just a little bit

[muddyorbsblr]

the final Lady Sharpe part 3: unorthodox signals

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: The first night of your mission to put Lucille away finishes with an unexpected request from Thomas

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Word Count: 5.7k [get a snack or a drink ready]

Warnings: ghosts; the McMichaels; the teensiest bit of steam [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are married; the start of pining

"Do you really think that this will be enough to put her away?"

Your first candle was just about to run out, telling you that over half of your first night in this possibly deadly operation in the hopes of putting Lucille Sharpe away for all the crimes she'd committed since Thomas was barely a young man was already over. Edith had guided you throughout the manner, finding the documents that held the records of marriages, deaths, money transfers and the like not too far from your shared bedroom with the baronet. A cursory glance through all the documents told you that alone they would barely have any leg to stand on and your hopes of putting her away would be significantly lowered.

You needed every morsel of evidence you could find.

Edith kept you company through the night, an invisible apparition of a lookout, talking with you while waiting for ink to dry so you could start copying the next line of the document. Mostly you two talked about her life before it came to a screeching halt courtesy of the business end of Lucille Sharpe's cleaver; how she wanted to be a writer and had made significant progress on her first novel that the murderous Lady Sharpe had burned to ash before ending her life.

If you survived this endeavor, you offered to pen down the novel once more at Edith's dictation to have her story published. So that her name may live on and her soul would live on in peace knowing that one of her dreams had been accomplished in a way.

"All of these together could build a strong enough case," you answered the spirit. "The only thing is it could build a case either against Lucille…or Thomas; there's nothing here so far that could undeniably present that it's her pulling these strings. What do the recording cylinders hold?"

"Enola's testimony that Lucille knows how to prepare the poison, the location of her cleaver, and that the money that has been inherited and co-mingled with the Sharpe estate has been used to complete the machine."

"Circumstantial," you mumbled, finishing up the fourth page for the night, leaving you a remainder of around five dozen sheets of paper along with transcribing the cylinders. "Anything else?"

"How about a spoken confession from Lucille?" That had your ears perk up, putting the pen down and allowing for the ink to dry before moving on to the next line. "Before she killed me she told me about how she made Thomas marry for the money. For the mines and for the machine and ultimately so they could find a way to make even more. But how all the horror that they dealt the world was for love."

"Lead with that next time, please," you breathed out, realizing that you now had the smoking gun. "What about a journal? A place where she kept track of all the prospects before ultimately choosing someone for Thomas to marry?"

"From what Enola has told me those get burned once the marriage certificate gets signed." Your ghostly companion sounded disappointed over that bit of information, almost as if she was apologizing to you for not being able to give you that. "Y/N if it's alright to ask…why did you decide to help Thomas? We could have helped you escape without his participation. In fact, everything you're doing now could have been done without his knowledge. Why tell him and risk betrayal? What if he's telling Lucille about your plan as we speak?"

"Good question," you blurted out a little louder than you intended. "Honestly when he explained to me what had been going on, part of me could see that in his own way…he was a victim in Lucille's plotting, too. I saw the remorse in his eyes as he talked about you…all of you. If he was being sincere and he truly wanted to be free from someone who had utilized him for her own selfish, hedonistic gain since he was but a boy, then I would be cruel to know all this and choose to not help him. Now, if he is betraying me and Lucille comes after me with her cleaver…or God help us something else…then that would be on his conscience if I die tonight. Or they do. In truth I wouldn't face any consequence upon their deaths because it would be an act of self defense."

You'd just finished copying the entirety of the fourth page when you were startled with a loud groan resonating from the attic.

"What in God's name was that?"

"It seems…it's Thomas. Maybe he's giving you a signal? How much of the second candle is left?"

You put the remaining candle next to your thumb. "Just a little over half a thumb's worth…" you trailed off. "I didn't tell him to give me a signal…"

A murmured second voice seemed to have joined Edith, which you surmised was most likely Enola. "She's asleep," Edith spoke after a few moments of less than whisper quiet tones. "Perhaps he hedged on the side of caution and made sure you wouldn't be navigating these halls without a light. How thoughtful of him." The slight teasing tone in her words didn't escape you, but you chose not to question it and instead gathered the original documents and placed them in the order which you found them earlier tonight, rushing over to the dresser in the hall near your bedroom and stashing them back in the drawer.

"Edith…do you think we'll actually succeed in this?" Throughout the night, you kept on inwardly voicing your doubts, wondering if perhaps you'd planned too meticulously, or maybe even not enough. That somewhere along the way in the next few weeks, you would have missed something and instead of tasting freedom at the end of this, you would instead be joining your newfound apparitional friend haunting the corridors of Allerdale Hall.

"You will," she answered you as you crossed the threshold to Thomas' workshop, finding a journal for sketches that you could sneak the copies you'd finished into. "It's too late for me to succeed in something like this, so really all I can do is help you -- and Thomas -- so that you can live your life free from Lucille."

"Our lives," you corrected. "If we make it out of this with our lives intact, he deserves to be with someone he actually loves."

The sound of water filling the bathtub greeted Thomas once he stepped into your shared bedroom, his brows knitting together in confusion once he stepped into the bathroom and spotted you standing beside the faucet in your sleeping gown. He couldn't help but to stare at how the moonlight shone through the window and hit your features in a way that he could only describe as celestial.

As if you were an angel sent his way, about to hold his hand and guide him out of the dark path he walked for most of his life.

"I drew you a bath," you said softly, shutting off the tap and already shuffling your way toward the door when he began to close the distance between you two. "Figured you'd want to clean up after…" You motioned your hand toward the ceiling, vaguely toward the attic where Lucille currently laid asleep. "…all that."

He held you lightly by your elbow to stop you from passing him. "You didn't need to do that."

"I know…" You gave him a tight-lipped smile, so far off from the one that he'd gotten to know before you were married. So distant that you may as well have been standing on the other end of the room instead of mere inches away. Almost as if you'd viewed him as no more than a stranger.

The thought alone made his heart grow heavy, a desperation clawing at him to know what he must do just to see that smile of yours again. The type that could light up a room and draw everyone's attention to you. The kind that dimpled your cheek and reached your eyes and all he could do in response was give you a smile of his own. Or kiss you.

"But personally whenever I had to do something that didn't sit right in my soul, I found it best to wash it off of my body at least before going to bed," you offered, placing your hand over his and easing yourself out of his hold. "Goodnight, Thomas."

Just before you completely slipped from his reach, he wrapped his hand around yours in a delicate hold. "W-Wait…Y/N, please," he stammered, tracing his thumb along the length of your fingers just as he once did even yesterday in the carriage ride as you two made your way to the decaying house.

We should have stayed in the city. The words begged to be uttered, weighing uncomfortably on the tip of his tongue. We could have been happy together.

"What is it?"

"I…I don't wish for the last thing I do before I sleep to be a—a distraction," he mumbled, heart hammering away at his throat, fearing what you would answer to what he wanted to ask of you. "I-If it would be alright with you, the last thing I wish to do before I go to bed tonight would be…a kiss."

Your expression went unchanged, remaining as distant and…almost defensive, as your eyes roamed his features. The silence from you was near deafening to him, the only sound that he could register being the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

"You don't need to say yes--"

"Wash your mouth first," you said in a rush, a tiny tentative smile twitching at the corner of your mouth. "Because I refuse to kiss the same lips she kissed."

Thomas stayed where he stood for a good few moments after you slipped out of his hold, stunned that you'd given only that simple stipulation and that ultimately, you agreed.

The shameful memories of Lucille's touch would not be the haunting lingering thought that plagued him before sleep would overtake him tonight. For even just a fleeting moment, he could convince himself that tonight he would go to bed having only kissed his wife goodnight. He could allow himself to picture what life with you would be like if you both succeeded in this plan of yours.

How you two would live out your newfound freedom together.

The mere thought brought tears to his eyes, envisioning what it would be like to wake in the morning contentedly holding you in his arms, your only concerns in the world paling in comparison to what he worried of now.

Warmth couldn't find you as you sat on the bed waiting for the sound of the water draining from the tub, no matter that you were on the side of the bed that was closer to the fireplace, or that the windows were closed and the wintery wind could not enter the room. The cold was coming from inside you, all stemming from the question of why did you agree to Thomas' wish so quickly.

Were you honestly so desperate to have a semblance of the marriage that you'd thought you signed your life off to that you were willing to instigate a sense of intimacy with a man you found yourself questioning if he was worthy of your trust? Could you even bring yourself to sleep in the same bed as him after all that had been revealed today?

How come the answer to both those questions was not a clear and resounding 'no'?

"I've never felt so stupid," you whispered into the quiet, wondering if Edith was present in the room with you now, the faint pang of disappointment prodding at your mind tauntingly when you heard nothing in return. "Too handsome for me to even have thought of knowing better."

The sound of water rushing into the drain jolted you out of your thoughts, having to make a conscious effort to take steadying breaths when Thomas stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a thin bathing towel quickly becoming translucent from the water covering his lithe form. Suddenly you were conspicuously interested in the pattern of the flaming embers of the fireplace, keeping your gaze fixed at the blazing corner of the room until you felt the bed dip beside you.

It confounded you more when he shuffled closer to where you sat on the bed, fingers resting gently atop yours as he tucked his fingers under your chin to turn your gaze to him. "What did you gather from tonight?"

You had to fight against your urge to breathe out audibly in relief, your nerves over his request from earlier easing off somewhat at the much simpler turn the conversation had taken. "There are about sixty-five sheets worth of documents. I was able to fully copy four pages, but I think I can go faster if I can make the ink dry quicker…possibly up to seven or even eight pages a night, which would give me more time to work on transcribing the photograph cylinders."

"Would I be able to help you? About the ink?"

You shook your head slightly, shaking his light grasp on your chin only to have him cup the side of your face, fingers weaving through your hair, thumb stroking along your cheekbone. "I need to find a way to warm the paper and also procure thinner ink, so I'll go into the city tomorrow morning and see what I find."

"I could accompany you, make a day of it." The furrow between his brows visibly relaxed when you nodded, accepting his offer. The air around you felt thinner once more when his gaze flickered to your lips. "You truly are ethereal in this light," he breathed out as he leaned in close enough that you could hear his staggered breaths. "Brilliant," he whispered, barely audible, before he pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

A faint whimper escaping you seemed to spur him on, each kiss becoming less restrained than the last, causing a near violent fluttering in your stomach the moment you felt his tongue tracing along the parting of your lips. There was a split second when he pulled away from you that you instinctively leaned toward him, chasing his kiss, before you caught yourself.

The sight of him giving you a tender smile greeted you when you opened your eyes, him seemingly content to stay right where he was, faces inches apart with his thumb tracing along your bottom lip. "Thank you."

"It's the least I could do," you said on instinct, assuming he meant what you'd done and agreed to tonight once he walked back into the bedroom.

"Y/N…" he breathed your name, his warm exhale grazing your skin from his closeness. "You're putting an end to the horror that has plagued most of my life. That is more than enough. More than I could ask for." He took you by surprise when he leaned in to press another soft kiss to your lips. "More than I deserve."

You immediately felt the loss of his touch when he scooted away and laid down on his side of the bed, moving you to follow suit as you wrestled with your thoughts and the outright diabolical turn your life had taken since stepping through the doors of his manor. How now you feared even sleeping only to wake with the maniacal Lucille standing over you with cleaver in hand.

Or perhaps you would not wake at all. Perhaps you would open your eyes and suddenly you would know the face of your apparitional friend Edith, because you were now cursed to haunt the halls of this possessed manor right alongside her.

What puzzled you the most was that if that were to happen, you would miss Thomas. And feel a sense of guilt about you that you were unable to deliver on your promise to end his sister's horrendous ways.

"Y/N, would it be too much if I were to ask for one more thing?" Thomas spoke into the quiet of the room. "You can say no I would completely understand."

"What is it?" You tried to keep your tone even, to not give it away that you were restless as well.

"May I hold you?"

The air left your lungs at his request, your thoughts racing with what his reasoning behind wanting to form this sense of intimacy with you when you knew that after all this you two would be little more than strangers. You tried to weave a sense of rationality into your decision. "Would it help you sleep?"

"Perhaps," he breathed out, already moving his arm to make space for you. "Since we met I always felt I could…breathe easier when you were near. I would sleep easier knowing that when I woke the next morning I would see you again. And now that you're here—"

You moved in the bed before he could finish his answer, shuffling into the space right beside him and settling against his side, grateful for the shadows cast upon your face from the fire now facing away from you, hiding the way your eyes widened and your brows knit together when he let out a sigh and visibly relaxed. When your head rested on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer and pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

"Goodnight, darling," he whispered into your skin, wrapping his other arm around you as well and pulling you into a full embrace, half of your torso laying atop of his bare chest.

"I'm just saying, Y/N, things around here the last few days have just been a few touches too bleak for my taste without you coming in to request some obscure ingredient or equipment for one of your experiments for Scotland Yard. It's so good to see you again, and married! You've no idea how jarring it was to hear it from Jeffries and Rhodes that you hadn't taken on a case in nearly two months and then so casually mention that they'd last seen you when you dropped by the station to tell them you were taking an indefinite break from cases for your wedding!"

You'd spend the last few minutes catching up with the owner of the assorted goods shop you frequented, Suzanne, a woman that seemed to be able to work miracles and find whatever it was you needed for investigating your cases throughout the years. The moment you walked through the doors of her shop, she dropped everything and pulled you into a tight embrace as if it had been years since you two last saw each other.

Considering the coldness of Lucille back in Allerdale and the bizarre mix of comfort and trepidation you felt this morning waking in Thomas' arms, the familiarity of your years long acquaintance's warmth and hospitality was such a welcome change. So welcome that it threatened to move you to tears with how it nearly overwhelmed you with relief.

"It's so good to see you, too, Suzanne." You picked up the parcel of parchments and a bottle containing a more thinned out ink compared to the one you used last night. "This'll help a great deal. Also…any chance you have a few long candles laying around?"

"Absolutely. How many?"

You did a quick computation in your mind, adding a few for contingency's sake. "Five dozen?"

She didn't even seem surprised by your request. "Is this for another case? None of the detectives I've crossed paths with mentioned you're working on something from their board."

"More a…personal project," you offered, a half truth considering that this would eventually become a case when the station received the copied documents. Or when they investigate your mysterious and untimely demise at the hands of your demented sister in law. "You know me, always have to make sure I have a little more than enough in case mistakes are--"

"Lord have mercy," she gasped out, her attention completely taken by whatever or whoever was at the door. "What a sight."

You suppressed the grin threatening to split your face in two when you caught sight of Thomas walking into the shop and making his way toward you, his overcoat swaying gently with each step. "I've placed the order. Parts should arrive in three weeks," he spoke, all the while keeping a hand behind his back as he approached you. "And as I made my way here I came across this and thought it would be a welcome spot of color in our room."

He brought his hand around to reveal a small bouquet of sunflowers, a bright smile stretching across his face as he saw your own smile playing at your features once you caught sight of the brilliant yellow.

"It complements your eyes," he said softly, holding the flower up next to your face, effortlessly keeping you captive under his steely blue gaze.

The sound of a throat clearing brought you out of your trance, turning to face the shop owner once again. "Suzanne, I'd like you to meet my husband, Sir Thomas Sharpe." Her jaw had gone slack staring at the two of you, giving him the slightest nod and a small wave, all the while the awe never left her expression.

"Have you got everything you need, darling?"

You nearly blurted out that all you needed were the candles when another item crossed your mind. "Nearly everything." You turned to address Suzanne once more. "You wouldn't happen to have some magnesium pills on hand, would you?"

"I'll see what I can find." She gave you both a curt nod before walking into her stock room. "Is everything alright? These are usually a last resort when all you do is toss and turn in the night."

"Just…some trouble sleeping," you called out into the direction of the door, holding up a hand in Thomas' direction when he opened his mouth to question the order. "Might just be the adjustment period after moving and all. Unpacking and familiarizing myself to a new environment."

"Oh! You've left the city?"

"Yes. I moved in to Thomas' home just outside the city. You know Allerdale Hall?"  The sound of her stumbling on something raised your concern. "Are you alright in there? Do you need some help?"

"Forgive me for sounding like a dolt, but I've heard that that manor is condemned. Haunted, even. Everyone that had ever stepped foot across those doors swears they hear voices coming from the walls."

You shared a look with your husband, raising your eyebrow at him in a playfully taunting expression before answering the shop owner, "It's just the East Wind." He held a hand against his mouth to stifle the chuckles that escaped him. "Write it off as nothing more than an old wives' tale, my friend." You quietly shuffled a bit closer to Thomas before finishing in a more hushed voice, "Because what they're hearing are quite literally old wives…"

That had him shaking from the laughter he was holding back, moving his hand to wrap around you and pull you to his side, pressing a kiss into your hair and causing you to slightly shake as well from his barely restrained chuckling. When Suzanne had stepped out of the stock room with a box in hand along with a small tin of what you assumed were the pills you asked for, this was how she saw you two, a warm smile gracing her lips as she visibly melted at his gesture.

"I've never seen a husband so smitten with his wife," she commented as she placed the items on the counter. "It's so refreshing to see a couple so beautifully in love."

The sound of a sharp chime of the bell distracted you from the slight ache you felt from Suzanne's words, a tinge of guilt mixed with what you could only speculate was longing threatening to consume your thoughts. A group of three walked through, two ladies dressed in bright colors and frills with matching hats as a garish show of their affluence, and a gentleman in a definitively more muted business suit.

Recognition dawned in the eyes of each new visitor as soon as they spotted Thomas, the older woman's lip slightly upturned into an unsubtle sneer, while the younger woman straightened her posture, the swell of her breasts nearly bursting from the tight low neckline of her dress. Meanwhile the gentleman a few steps behind them shifted his attention quickly to the small collection of antique photographs by the front of the store.

"Thomas!" the younger woman sighed in a completely unnatural breathy tone that you recognized as an attempt in being flirtatious. "It's so good to see you again. We haven't seen you back in town since Edith's funeral. Honestly I feared that I--" The older woman lightly swatted her arm, both admonishing her and showing you that this was most likely her mother. "That we would never see you again."

It was almost as if the two women were making a conscious effort to disregard your presence, the daughter's eyes constantly flickering away from you the moment her gaze traveled in your general direction, and the mother staring right through you, as if the wall behind you was more interesting. Perhaps it truly was.

"Eunice was so eager to see you again despite the tragedy." The mother's tone reeked of cold calculation, a near mirror to Lucille's back in the manor. As if she were trying to sway his attention to her daughter.

You vaguely remembered something Edith had mentioned last night about pompous women back in her hometown filled to the brim with backhanded compliments and thinly veiled threats of putting others they deemed 'unworthy' in their 'rightful place in society'. This must be who she was referring to.

"It truly did not occur to me you would find yourselves back in London, Mrs McMichael." There was an obvious restraint in Thomas' tone that reminded you of how he questioned Lucille's suggestion for tea when you arrived in Allerdale yesterday afternoon, as if in his own way, he was trying to tell the woman across from you to take a step back. "What brings you back to London?"

"Oh, well Alan is here for a conference and Eunice was absolutely beside herself to return to the city and…all it had to offer." You unsubtly raised a single eyebrow at the poorly veiled weight behind those words. The younger woman, Eunice, had come to see Thomas. And it seemed that her brother was doing a poor job at feigning indifference judging by the way his head slightly moved along with the motion of rolling his eyes. It was only then that this Mrs McMichael looked directly at you, her gaze so cold it was clearly accustomed to being able to cut right into a lesser woman's insecurities.

You…were no lesser woman.

"But I see that certain sights have already become a touch too crowded," she sighed, her tone so condescendingly derisive. "Who might you be?"

"Mrs McMichael, this is--"

"Y/N Sharpe," you cut your husband off, extending a hand towards the haughty woman. "Scotland Yard." The muted 'oooooh' from Suzanne had you fighting off a smirk. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

The older woman took a look at the items before you on the counter. "Seems an odd place for Scotland Yard to send off their secretary on a run for supplies." She then scanned your attire from head to toe, the feel of your husband's hand making its way from your waist to the pocket of your skirt quickly distracting you from the irritation beginning to worm its way into your expression. "Quite odd for them to make you dress in such an erudite manner, too. Don't secretaries back home dress a little more…simply, Eunice?"

You placed your hand over Thomas' inside your skirt's pocket, trying to discreetly pry his fingers away from the handle of your blade while answering the woman no more than a stranger patronizing you over the way you dressed. "Actually I'm an investigator. These aren't supplies for the station, they're for me. For a case." When his hand was no longer closed around your blade, his fingers intertwined with yours, you brought up your joint hands to press a quick kiss to the backs of his fingers, stifling back a chuckle at the seething glare that colored both women's faces. "I have everything I need. Let's go home."

"I wasn't able to ask you while we were in the store," Thomas spoke a few minutes after the two of you had hopped on to the carriage back to Allerdale Hall, the entire time his fingers interlaced with yours, refusing to let you go. As if a part of him was fearful that if he let you slip away for even a few inches, even for the briefest moment, that you might not return.

He wouldn't blame you if that had been the case; being married to him seemed more a dangerous struggle than the blissful, romantic affair that poems and novels were written about. That was the marriage you deserved, and it weighed heavy on his heart to know that he could not give that to you.

Perhaps if you both survived this effort to put an end to Lucille's plotting, and if somehow Fate was kind to him and would not see him suffer too great a consequence for aiding in these schemes, then he could start to craft that picturesque, love-filled marriage that he had longed for his own life. The kind that would have built a home full of warmth, laughter, and comfort even in the icy chills of the country.

With you.

"What is it?" The way your thumb was absentmindedly rubbing circles on the knuckles of his fingers had him itching to pull you closer. To kiss you again like he had last night. And perhaps even test the waters into having it progress into something more.

"The magnesium pills…Why did you get them? Did you truly have trouble sleeping last night? I sincerely apologize if I--"

"No no, Thomas. You did nothing wrong." Your hold on his hand tightened slightly, as if pulling him out of his own head, bringing his focus back into reality. Back to you. "I erm--I actually slept quite peacefully," you mumbled, ducking your head down moments after he swore he saw your cheeks becoming tinged with pink. "They're for you."

Confusion overcame the baronet. Last night had been the most peaceful sleep he had in years, despite his participation in this possibly perilous endeavor you'd both signed yourselves up for. Painted a beautiful picture of what your life together would be once it was truly only just the two of you, and you would both come home after a day's work and settle into a more relaxed, intimate routine as husband and wife. "I don't think I need them, darling."

"I mean, should there ever be a night that you…can't stomach your part in this whole…" you trailed off, your free hand moving about as if you were trying to grasp the right word. "Situation…They're for that." You leaned in closer and spoke in a more hushed tone. "Take a pill, crush it into a powder, and stir it into her tea. They shouldn't give off a telling taste, but you can mask it with sugar if it helps. Put her right to sleep so that you won't have to--"

Your words were cut off in an adorable little squeak from the back of your throat as he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, his heart awash with warmth when he felt you relaxing against him and heart a soft sigh right before you began to kiss him back. "You are a godsend," he whispered against you.

"Well, it is a wife's duty after all to lighten her husband's load as best she can," you retorted, chuckling lightly as you pulled away from him. He had to fight the urge to pull you closer once more. "It feels only but right to do what I can while I still hold that title."

Thomas felt his blood go cold, the chill spreading even to the tips of his fingers. "Wait. Y/N, what do you mean while--"

"Would I really be so cruel to help you escape one gilded cage just to put you in another?" Your eyes shone with a sincerity, an earnest to simply help with fulfilling a shared interest. "Thomas, when this is all over and if we both survive, the outcome I'm aiming for is that I get to live my life back here in the city. Keep on doing what I'm good at and solve more cases. As for you? You get to be free. To do with the manor what you wish, meet someone new, court them, and marry them by your terms."

He felt his whole body go numb as he tried to make sense of the words coming out of you, watching the images of the life he planned to build with you start to crumble in his mind. The image of a life as a free man without you to hold and kiss at the end of the day held little to no appeal for him.

I might prefer incarceration, he thought to himself bitterly. "Do you mean than when this is over what comes next would be--"

"Dissolution," you finished his question for him, effectively turning his heart into lead and dropping to the pit of his stomach. "You'll be free from me, too."

He could see from the smile on your face that you probably expected him to be relieved with this news. Ecstatic even. But every ounce of him screamed to tell you there was no need. That he didn't see life with you as a gilded cage. That your words felt as if you'd taken your blade and stuck it right through his heart before twisting it.

We should have stayed in the city.

A/N: I don't think he likes that outcome very much… 🥴🫡

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the final Lady Sharpe taglist: @lady-rose-moon @sassanoe @smolvenger @annoyingsweetsstranger @bombcitymiss22 @ladyloki3 @cakesandtom

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #the final lady sharpe #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

[immortalbutterflycos]

hi!! 5 and 21 for regulus please <3

Aye Yooo!! (Thank you~)

Those are really good ones too!

5- I actually have a few songs that come to mind for Regulus because I am low-key (high-key) obsessed with making playlists for my various WIPs. So here's just my top 5 (because I have to limit myself here...) and why:

Regulus - ONEWE First of all, the title obviously XD. But aside from that, it's so pretty too! and I looked up the English translation and there's this one line that kills me,

"I'm withering, but you don't be withering Remember me even when I'm gone, yeah, just a little selfishly This star is precious a living and breathing memory Even if it's far away from the earth"

2. Reckless Driving - Lizzy McAlpine & Ben Kessler The StarChaser vibes are simply immaculate in this song.

3. Lonely Star - Oh Wonder Honestly, this one kind of speaks for itself (ToT) 4. Hymne a l'amour - Edith Piaf What can I say? Solmussa's Only the Brave rewired my brain. I listen to this song all the time.

5. Stay - Phemiec This one also have fantastic Starchaser vibes and honestly Phemiec's songs from this album are all in my playlist for The Art of Running for Our Lives. The lyrics, "She made it okay to not be okay. She made me believe that someone would, that someone could Stay" just really hit hardest with a pleasant mix of Black Brothers angst and StarChaser <3 21- I think that my favorite thing to do while writing Regulus is to give him some sort of obsession with the stars.

I know it's kind of a cliche answer, but I'm also the type of person who will step out of the house at 3 am to just look at the sky for a second and exist in that space for a little bit. I love the stars so much and my biggest dream is to go to one of those Dark Sky Conservatories and my goal is to project that onto Regulus and Sirius in anyway possible. <3

I also love writing him to be happy. I put this man through absolute hell because the more they hurt, the better the comfort. (and since I'm a slut for happy endings and hurt/comfort, it just makes all the pain so much more worth it! My least favorite thing..? I'm not gonna lie, I actually really love writing Regulus. I find it a lot easier to write from the perspective of a character with a lot of emotional depth and trauma than anything else. Oddly enough, because of this, I actually struggle a bit more with writing James.

I guess if you'd like another answer, it would be smut. Not because I don't like it, but because the last time I wrote a full smut scene was on Wattpad when I was in high school. Which I graduated from in 2016. 😂 (The worst part is that it still exists on the internet forever. 😔)

#jegulus #the marauders #marauders era #regulus black #james potter #starchaser #character asks #ask game #ask away #answered #the black brothers #only the brave #the noble and most ancient house of black

[specialagentlokitty]

Thomas Barrow x reader - safe now

Hello. I have an idea for Thomas x Reader (friendship or sibling) with prompt number 56. What if Reader has been in a toxic relationship with someone and seeks protection. Thomas sis helping Reader or something like that.. - Anon 💜

TW: mentions of abusive ex

56: “You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now.”

You didn’t know where else to go, where else to go so he wouldn’t find you.

So, you took a job at Downton as the new ladies maid, it have you a safe place, money, and ensured your always be safe at all time.

It was perfect.

“You still haven’t told us why you chose here if you used to live by Scotland.” Daisy said.

Smiling at her, you shrugged a little bit as you sipped at your tea.

“I wanted a change of scenery that’s all.”

“So out of all the places you chose here?” Mr Bates asked.

“What can I say? I enjoy small villages and the quiet life about them, it’s nice.”

Thomas scoffed and you looked over at him.

“It is. It’s almost as if everybody knows everybody.”

“And that’s the downside of it, everybody knows who you are and everybody knows your business.” He said.

You shrugged a little bit and smiled at him.

“It’s nice, I like it.”

You looked at the board as the bell went and stood up.

“That’s her ladyship, excuse me.”

You went about your duties and you began your travels back down the stairs with Lady Cora and you held the dress in your hands.

“I can have it fixed tonight my lady.”

“Thank you so much.”

You looked at the door as people talked and you felt a cold feeling wash over you, one that made you freeze in place as your eyes locked with his and you quickly looked away.

“Ah, I was wondering where you ran off to.” He smiled.

He walked over and you took a few steps back, bumping into someone and you quickly turned around, heart pounding in your chest.

“I’m sorry my lord…”

With that you rushed back downstairs unaware of the chatter going on upstairs.

“You know (Y/N)?” Lord Grantham asked.

“Oh yes, we used to be engaged you see, but one day she disappeared into the night and I worried ever so about her. Do you think perhaps she can come up so we can catch up?”

“Well, we are about to have tea, perhaps she can spare some time. Thomas send for (Y/N) please.”

“Very good my lord.”

You were sat downstairs, hiding out in the boot room to try and calm yourself down.

You had put her ladyships dress in your room for safe keeping and now you were just trying to do anything you could to keep yourself at ease.

The door was opened and you looked up.

“His lordship has requested you in the tea room.”

“Okay…”

You stood up and took a deep breath, and you made your way forward.

Thomas furrowed his brows a little and he grabbed your wrist, not missing the way you tense immediately and stared wide eyed straight ahead.

He slowly let go.

“Who is he?”

“Nobody.”

With that you walked away and Thomas had no choice but to follow you with the tea.

You walked into the room and stood as far away as you possibly could, making sure to keep an eye on the exits to ensure they were clear.

“Ah (Y/N), apparently you were engaged to this lovely young gentleman, is that true?” Lady Mary asked.

“Yes my lady.”

“Then why did you call it off?” Lady Edith asked.

You went to reply and you watched as the man stood up.

“I apologise I believe it may have been my fault, I worry I perhaps didn’t reassure her how much I adored her.”

You looked away.

“Oh that’s so sweet.”

“I was wondering if maybe you would take me back?” He smiled sweetly.

Everyone looked to you.

“No, no Sir Oscar, I will not take you back…” you spoke quietly.

The room fell silent.

“After everything I did for you? All the time and money I spent on you?” He asked lowly.

“Sir Oscar please.” Mr Carson said.

The man help out his hand and marched over to you, and you ducked under him, walking backwards as he carried on stalking closer.

“I say that is enough!” Lord Grantham snapped.

“No! I have had enough of this now! We are to be married, and you will be my wife!” He snapped.

You backed up into someone and you froze watching as he hand came closer, and someone else grabbed it, holding it in place.

“I would ask that you treat our maids with some respect.” Thomas spoke.

“Who are you to speak to me like that servant?!” Sir Oscar hissed.

“He’s right, I think it’s best you leave now.” Lady Cora said.

Everybody stood up and your ex looked at you, glaring harshly.

“I’m coming for you.”

With that he walked away and you stared at the door, breathing heavily, unable to hear the calls of your name.

Someone touched your shoulder and you jumped away, slowly backing away from them all.

“(Y/N)? Just breathe.” Lady Edith said.

“I need to go…”

With that, you ran away, and straight to your room.

You didn’t even both packing anything, you simply changed out of your maids clothes and into normal clothes and you rushed back downstairs.

“(Y/N)!” Anna called.

She tried to catch up but you were already out the door and rushing across the grass, dress balled up in your hands as you ran.

You had nowhere in mind, you just had to run and that was all you knew, you had to run.

But you didn’t get very far before a car pulled up in front of you down the drive and you back away scared.

“(Y/N)…” lady Cora whispered.

You shook your head, wide eyes as you slowly stepped back, tripping over yourself and you fell.

“(Y/N)?”

Thomas walked over and he knelt down in front of you, holding his hands in the air so you could see them.

“You’re okay.” He whispered.

“He’s going to come back…”

“And if he does we’ll be waiting for him.” Lord Grantham said.

You flicked your eyes to his lordship and looked back at Thomas.

“He’s not going anywhere near you, just come back.” Lady Mary said.

They walked over and helped you up, and they took you back to Downton back to your room and sat you down on your bed.

They took turns staying with you until it came to the evening and you quietly began to pack your stuff, freezing in fear when your door slowly opened and quickly closed.

“You’re not seriously leaving?” Thomas asked.

“You shouldn’t be in here…”

Thomas sighed softly and he walked over, taking your case he put it on the other empty bed and he sat down in front of you.

He pointed to your bed so you sat down as well.

“How is running going to help you?” He asked.

“He won’t find me.”

“And what if he does? You won’t have anybody to help protect you from him.”

You looked up at Thomas.

“You can’t protect me…”

Thomas got up and he sat next to you.

“I can, and I will. Okay? I know what it’s like to be scared, unable to escape that fear no matter what you do.”

Thomas held his hand out to you.

“So I’ll protect you, and I promise you he will never lay a hand on your while I’m here.”

You looked up at Thomas, tears brimming your eyes.

“I’m scared…”

He sighed, taking your hand in his he squeezed it gently.

“You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now.”

You let your tears fall down your face and you stared at your hand in his.

“Why…?”

“Because… because I don’t want to see someone I consider a friend scared and alone…”

He looked at you looking at your hand.

“You’ve never had someone hold your hand?” He asked.

You slowly shook your head.

“Sir Oscar.. he.. was not a nice man… he… did cruel things…”

“You never have to go through them again, okay? Never. Just don’t run away from this, you have people here who want to help you.”

You slowly nodded your head.

“I don’t.. I don’t know what to tell them…”

“Tell them the truth when you’re ready, don’t let anybody rush you into saying anything you’re not ready for.”

You nodded your head again and you stared at your case on the other bed, wondering what to do.

Thomas sighed and he stood up, holding his hand out to you.

“Let’s get some tea, and we’ll sit downstairs for a while.”

You quietly followed him, thinking about everything and wondering what you should do about it.

You didn’t know if you could trust Thomas, but right now, after what had happened, he was the first person to ever stick up for you, and you didn’t know who else to turn too.

You’d been working with him for the better of two years now, and you wanted to trust him, but you just didn’t know if you could trust anyone again

#Downton abbey #downton abbey x reader #downton abbey x you #Downton abbey imagine #Thomas Barrow #thomas barrow x reader #thomas barrow x you #Thomas Barrow imagine

[angel-of-arson]

Scene 7

--Edith looked out of her bedroom window, she glanced at the lock before she sighed. She hasn't done it often, but she likes how it makes her heart pound.

--She opened the window and lifted it up, she made sure it wouldn't fall at any moment before she sat in the windowsill and swung her legs out of the window.

--She immediately felt her heart pounding faster, and she smiled, enjoying the afternoons breeze. Leaning onto the left side of the window she began to think.

--Edith knew she was safe, she knew she was loved, she knew she was cared for by William and Sam. She knew by reading their cores, but she still felt on edge.

--It's been around seven months since she was saved, seven days until her birthday too. She closed her eyes and tried to remember when was the last time she had it celebrated.

--It stung when she recalled, five years, it was five years if she recalled correctly. Edith just sighed and shook her head, not wanting to think more of it.

--She was to turn twelve, seven more days, just seven more days until it happened. Is William going to plan something, she began to wonder.

--Did she want something planned, was the next question that popped up after. She felt her core twist with confusion, she groaned a bit before she got off the windowsill and closed the window.

--She made her way too Williams office, passing by Bob, and she soon stood in front of the door. She could feel Cam's core in there too, Edith frowned and closed her eyes.

--She felt around, William's core filled with anxieties and worry for her, Cam's own was trying to soothe William's. She opened her eyes, and knocked.

--"Come on in Edith." William's voice was heard, Edith took in a deep breath as she opened the door.

--She was wary, and William could tell, she slowly made her way to his desk and Cam smiled down at her. Which she just nodded as an answer.

--"MoonDrop, me and Cam have been discussing something," William spoke gently, and Edith just listened, "and we believe you joining a Pack would-."

--Edith's eyes widened, she wasn't paying attention anymore. William wanted her to join a Pack, a Pack? With other shifters, with people she didn't know?

--She began to toy with the hem of her shirt, she forced herself to tune back in to listen to William.

--"And it would mean you wouldn't have to be alone as you are," William looked at Cam who just nodded his head, "Like how during the Winter solstice you had to stay with Sam and Rigel."

--She nodded her head, recalling how much fun it was. Sam and Rigel didn't quite get along with each other but had decided to stay civil, to say the least, while watching over her.

--William saw a faint smile appear on her, making one appear on himself.

--"But other than that, you spent so many days alone and bored." William sighed, they both knew how busy he was, but he made as much time as possible to spend time with Edith.

--He continued, "But there are things I am unable to teach you, I am a Vampire after all. And you are a Shifter, Edith." That hurted her, and she looked away.

--She looked up at where the wall and ceiling connect, trying to resist to hum, Edith could hear the blood rushing in her ears.

--"Edith," Cam spoke, "I know it is frightening, to be with-." Edith looked at him and he stopped, Cam was a serenity demon, he knew what Edith was feeling.

--"Seven." She muttered, William knew what she meant by that, "I know Little Wolf, seven more days." William nodded, looked down at his hands.

--"Can you leave Cam?" Edith spoke, and he thinned his lips as he rifted away. "Why, William, why do you want me to join? Do you not?" Edith's voice was weak, she subconsciously brought a hand up to her neck.

--"No!" William breathed out, "Edith, I do care. I do want you, never ever think I would leave you."

--Edith felt a gust of wind before she saw William kneeled in front of her, his grey eyes shone with sadness and confusion. She winced, she made him feel like that.

--"Look at me, Edith. My dear daughter, please look at me." She felt his hand touch her cheek, cold, he was always cold. Edith's core jumped and lit up.

--The two never referred each other as family, they felt like it of course. But Edith never called William as her father, and William never called Edith as his daughter.

--Edith slowly opened her eyes, and saw William eyes filled with tears. "Daughter?" She meekly asked.

--"Of course, you are, Edith. You are my daughter, I want you to grow up with the best chances." William drly chuckled, he saw Edith's eyes fill up with tears as well.

--"Dad." She choked out. "Dad." William enveloped Edith into a hug, Edith held him tighter.

--Edith held her father as tight as she could while she kept sobbing out the word 'Dad' over and over again.

#redacted edith #edith-solaire #redacted william #william solaire #redacted camelopardalis #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted oc #redactedverse #redacted demons #redacted vampires #redacted shifters #redacted werewolves #redacted fanfic #fanfic #light angst #family angst #The Empire.

[theskyexists]

Watched the penultimate episode of years and years.

Was literally trembling throughout. Fam was like - why are you breathing so weird

Because every single thing in this damn series is too close - we're too close

They get it but they really don't get it I guess the way I get hit by it

#the genocide the state control the refugees the climate chaos the so-called terrorism the army in the streets the govenrment takeover by #democracy #the tar pits the tar pits the disappeared #anyway Edith is a madwoman but shes unimaganiably brave #that little moment between Rook and Stephen #god #my stuff #personal #shes extremely clever shes sharp shes incredibly charming and shes only a puppet #anyway #edith makes it possible to breathe just a little bit #rtd put these themes in dw as well but it was a family show so he couldnt go full ham on them #he went full ham on them now #Martha's father shouting 'you did this!' at his neighbours as he is dragged into an unmarked van 'you voted for saxon!' clear daylight #Donna shouting 'where are you taking them??!!' and wilf saying: its happening again' #'britain for the british'

[mercurygray]

A little fic idea for you and your Vikings Valhalla OFC: Edith is one of the witnesses at Emma and Canute's wedding ceremony and ends up telling Godwin about it... or perhaps he finds some way to persuade her to tell him... ;)

I had a lot of fun with this! Sadly no persuasions here - they won't be at that point for a good while yet. Apologies for the verb tense in the middle, I'm not really sure what happened there.

Armies come and go, they say, but precious little changes for the women. Isn't that the truth of it? Edith thought to herself.

It was quieter, now, in the halls of the palace; with the King and most of his retainers gone there was almost a feel of normalcy about the place. The queen, never one to waste time, had given orders for the rushes to be changed and the rugs to be beaten, bits of cleaning here and there that simply weren't possible when court was in session. Usually these were the tasks that would fall when the court moved to Winchester - but, Edith thought, there would be no such move this year, after all that had happened in the last several weeks. Everyone else at court would simply have to make do - including councilors who smirked as they passed by in the corridor.

"Edith. I hope your mistress knows the game she's playing," he said lightly, obviously intending to make her stop and talk with him.

She paused, hating that he knew just how to goad her. "I think you know the queen does not play games, Godwin."

"I would say she plays some. Or maybe you two are not so close as you suppose, if she does not tell you everywhere where she goes." His smile had a dagger in it. "It's a very poor maid who does not know her mistress's whereabouts. Tongues might wag."

Edith took a breath and tried to remember patience. "Perhaps you'll be so good as to tell me, then, where you think my lady has been."

The councilor stepped forward, his voice lowered so as not to attract attention. "To be alone, at night, in the King's chamber? I could say she was brave but never stupid."

It had been late indeed last night when she'd discovered the queen was gone - there'd been a muffled knocking at the door some hours later, one of Canute's guards outside. "My king says you're to come at once." Edith had looked back at Emma's bed, then, and seen that it was empty. What mischief's this? And why does the King need me?

But the Queen was already with him. "Oh, Edith, you've come." She'd began saying something, about how they were waiting for Father Wictred, and Edith had stopped listening a moment, too surprised to speak. For Emma had looked - there was no other word for it - happy. When was the last time she had smiled so? Holding her babies, perhaps, when the shouting had stopped and the pain was over: here was something that was completely hers. And here, in this room, she had that same look - every time she glanced over at the King.

Edith had looked at the creases in Emma's gown, the loose waves of her hair and the equally loose sheets upon the bed, and had realized - She's lain with him, body and soul. And he lay with her, she'd added silently, taking note of the equal intensity in the king's eyes, low-raked desire, like a bank of coals, the glances passing between them like arrows. And there was something, too, in the way his hand lingered over hers, careful with his every touch as if she were a object of marvel and he was afraid that he would break her. Edith had felt a welt come in her throat. Aethelred never looked at her so. She was what was due him, not something to be cherished. I'll love you for that, my lord, she'd thought to herself, listening as Canute conferred with the newly arrived priest. If I love you for nothing else, I'll surely love you for that. You gave her back her boys, and you made her smile.

So, that was that. She'd had precious little sleep last night because of it, and now here was Godwin, with his smirks and intimations that her lady had only given in to lust, thinking he knew all.

Well, two could play that game, couldn't they? "That was hardly a game." Edith considered a moment, and decided it was worth it to slide the knife in. "How could it be, with three witnesses and a priest?"

To watch Godwin's face go pale made all the insults worth it. "A priest?"

She was allowed a smirk of her own, now, and took it with much satisfaction, seeing all his careful manners crumble just a little. "What's this? Something that Godwin All-Seer doesn't know? He wished to make it good before he left, and so it is. You'll see she wears a ring of his now - a white stone in a heavy silver band."

"Three witnesses," he pressed, seeming just a little bit more desperate. "Who were they? And the priest?

She counted on her fingers, savoring his defeat. "Father Wictred read the vows - I stood for her, and two of his men for him. Agnarr and...another, I do not know his name." She saw another opening and came in for a second cut, closer than the first, and deeper - "It's a shame he did not ask you. Perhaps you're not as close with him as you suppose." Should she chance it? Did she dare? He was bleeding now, and she might kill him - but it was too good an opportunity to let it pass her by.

"I'd be very careful who you mock, my lord. It took two days to get the blood out of the floor after that dinner- and Streona didn't insult his wife."

She thought she might treasure the lost look on Godwin's face for weeks to come. It was a slow season now - she would need the entertainment.

#i have written a thing #edith eadig #godwin of wessex #vikings: valhalla #vikings fanfiction #mercurygraypresents

[elisela]

do you know how to do take-aways? (read on ao3) derek x stiles, g, 2.2k, au, meet cute, fluff, kid fic

prompt: call me for @tylerhunklin

--

"Hey Scott," Stiles says, jamming the phone receiver between his shoulder and ear so he can go back to typing with both his hands. "Desk duty is killing me, man, do you know how much of a backlog on paperwork there is in this place? Fucking ridiculous—"

"Stiles," Scott cuts in, “I have a call I need you to take."

Stiles sits up straighter and frowns. "We've got people out on patrol—"

Scott's laughter is warm and familiar in his ear. "No, it's not a patrol thing. I'm gonna transfer it over to you, okay? And I’m still coming to bring you dinner tonight."

"Roger," Stiles says, lazily snapping a salute despite Scott not being able to see him. There's a pause and a click, and he slips back into his professional mode—the one his dad definitely wishes he would use more often. "Beacon Hills Sheriff's Department, this is Deputy Stilinski, how can I help you?"

"Hi," a small voice says. "Do you know how to do take-aways?"

He frowns, glancing over at the display on the phone screen. He'd think it was a joke except he doubts Scott would patch that through, and there's a childish tone to the voice that's difficult to fake. "Like subtraction?" he asks.

"Yeah," the voice says. "We learned it today but I don't remember and I gotta do my homework."

He presses his lips together so he doesn't laugh and slouches, relaxing a little in his seat. "Sure do," he says. "What's your name?"

"Talia Marie Hale," she says promptly, and Stiles scribbles it down on a piece of paper. "How do I do five take away five?"

"Can you put up five fingers?" he asks, and she makes a noise of assent. "Okay, now put five of them down." He hears her counting in the background and he copies the number the shows on his display underneath her name, then clicks over to run it through the system. When she stops, he says, "okay, how many fingers do you still have up?"

"I don't have any," she says. "How do you write that?"

"Zero," he says. "Do you know how to make that? It's like a big o." He waits another moment before asking, "is anyone in the house with you, Talia?"

"Yeah, my auntie," she says. "But I can't ask her questions while she's writing unless it's an emergency."

He can't catch himself before he laughs. "What made you decide to call 9-1-1?"

"My teacher said if you ever need help you can call," Talia says. "And I really need help. What's seven take away three?"

--

The second call comes in three days later. He's peeling apart his turkey sandwich and layering Doritos on it, providing much-needed crunch, when his phone rings through from dispatch. "Sup, Scott," he says, because Scott's the only one who ever bothers to call him directly.

"Sorry, Stiles, just me," Kira says. "I have someone on the line for you. Given that she asked for you by name, maybe you could remind her that this line is for emergencies and talk to her guardian?"

He presses the top slice of bread back onto his sandwich and leans back in his chair. "Got it," he says, and waits for the click. "That you, Miss Hale?"

"Hi, Mr. Deputy Stilinski,"  she says, tiny voice chipper in his ear. "I'm really confused about this take away."

"Hit me," he says, and she giggles.

"Ten take away six," she says. "I put up all my fingers but I got confused."

He hums and glances around his desk. "Are you with your auntie again today?" he asks, and when she confirms he adds, "do you have any toys at her house?"

"I'm at my house," she says. "Auntie watches me while Daddy's away for work, but she's busy writing her thesis so I can't go in the office."

"What's your dad's name?" he asks.

"Derek Samuel Hale," she says. "And my auntie's name is Cora Elizabeth Hale, and my other auntie is Laura Margaret Hale, and my dog's name is Ruffio Hale. Like from Hook. Auntie Cora named him because she said Daddy was scared of Hook when he was my age and she likes to make fun of him. Daddy tried to rename him but he only wants to answer to Ruffio now."

He writes it all down with a grin—even the unasked for information—and flicks at his mouse to wake his computer. "Your aunt sounds pretty cool," he says. "Okay, go get ten small toys and we'll get your math done. Blocks, if you have them."

He runs Cora's name through the system as he waits, just to make sure Talia isn't being left with someone irresponsible, and finds nothing of consequence. He keeps the list, though; he'll tell Talia not to call 9-1-1 anymore unless it's an emergency, and if she does, he'll get in touch with her dad then.

--

"Little red h-hen makes s-sop," Talia reads, and pauses. "That doesn't sound right. What's ou?"

"Spell the whole thing for me," he says, and corrects, "soup," when she does, spearing a piece of microwaved chicken and popping it in his mouth. He's quiet while she reads, only interjecting when she needs help, trying to eat silently in the background. She mostly spells the comprehension questions for him and he reads them to her, and when she finally thanks him and hangs up, he looks up to see his dad standing over his shoulder.

"Hey, Pops, I finished the file on—"

"When did your desk turn in to the homework helpline?" Noah asks, frowning, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

"She only calls on my break, it's fine," he says, waving a hand to brush away the question before picking up the file. "Anyway—"

"Are her parents aware?"

"I left her aunt a voicemail on Monday," he says, and when his dad just looks at him, he sighs. "Fine, I left her a message last Monday and I haven't heard back, but she's not alone in the house, nothing bad is going on, she's just—lonely, I think." It's something he understands; after his mom passed away, he'd started calling Edith, who worked the front desk of the station when he was a kid, every night his dad wasn't home.

"Call again,"  Noah says, "and next time, make whoever is home with her aware of it. Once or twice is fine; every day for weeks is a problem."

--

"Here," he says, and Talia gives him the first letter promptly before pausing and spelling out the rest. "Good job. Um, said."

He might be extending their time on the phone, just a little. He likes talking to her; she reminds him of himself, her elementary drama always makes him laugh, and she likes asking him questions about being a deputy. So he’s not really looking forward to asking to speak to her aunt and put a stop to all this.

When she seems like she’s winding down, he sighs. “I know you’re not supposed to interrupt Auntie Cora,” he says, “but I was hoping to talk to her. Can you tell her Deputy Stiles is on the phone?”

“Oh, Auntie’s not here,” Talia says, and Stiles feels the beginning of a heart attack coming on before she adds, “Daddy’s home now. I’ll go get him.” He hears a thunk and then little feet running, her calling out for her Dad before there’s a muffled thump.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi,” he says, “this is Deputy Stilinski from BHSD—is this Mr. Hale?”

“This is,” he says, and if it’s possible to fall in love with a voice, Stiles does so right then. Soft and gentle, just a bit of concern, and he has to stop himself from running Derek’s name through the system to get a photo. His dad is already irritated with him for encouraging Talia’s calls (and, you know, for the whole stopping a bank robbery in progress thing that led to the injury that landed him on desk duty), he doesn’t need to add misuse of resources to the list. “Is everything okay?”

He takes a breath and explains, starts from the beginning and includes how he gave Talia his desk number so she would stop calling 9-1-1, makes sure to add that he’d tried to get ahold of Cora—and leaves out the fact he hadn’t called Mr. Hale directly even though he could have easily done so—and when he’s finished talking, he adds, “I didn’t mind, honestly, she just told me today that you were back in town and I wanted to let you know.”

There’s a pause where he holds his breath and hopes that Mr. Hale doesn’t think he’s a creep, or doesn’t demand to speak to the Sheriff—but he just lets out a breath and says “I am so sorry, I’ll absolutely talk to her, it won’t happen again.”

“I really didn’t mind,” he says again, because he also doesn’t want to get Talia into trouble. “She must get home from school at the same time my break starts because she always called at the same time, I wasn’t busy. Just making you aware.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Hale says. “Deputy—” and isn’t Stiles going to have dreams where his name is said like that, low and grateful and—

“Sorry?” he asks, flushing when he realizes he’s lost track of the conversation. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I appreciate what you did,” Mr. Hale says. “I’ll talk to her.”

--

Talia doesn’t call the next day.

She shows up instead.

“Mr. Deputy Stiles!” he hears from the front, and his head snaps up to see a little girl with long dark hair looking around the room, envelope clutched in one hand, the holding onto the hottest man Stiles has ever seen and holy shit, he suddenly believes that karma is very real and he has clearly done something good in his life to earn this kind of reward.

He starts to stand, and her eyes catch his and light up as she tugs her dad towards him. “Miss Hale?”

“Hi!” she says, flinging her arms around his waist. He hugs her back and looks over at her dad, who gives him a sheepish look and shrugs. “I got a hundred percent on my sight words test and Daddy said we could go to ice cream to celebrate and then when we were at ice cream he said we should do something nice for you because you helped me so so so much and I really wanted to come here anyway because I want to see a real jail and Daddy said if I was really really nice and asked politely then maybe you could show me some handcuffs—”

If this is what he’s like, he’s starting to understand why it was difficult for him to make friends in school, because she just does not stop, and doesn’t leave an opportunity for him to get a word in. He crouches down so he’s eye-level with her and waits it out, accepting the envelope when she finally runs out of words and beams at him. “Thank you,” he says, and when he opens it up to find a drawing and a handful of gift cards, he looks up to Mr. Hale. “You really didn’t have to, Mr. Hale,” he says, wrapping one arm around Talia’s shoulders when she darts in to hug him again.

“Derek,” he says, and when he smiles, Stiles is pretty sure he’s found God. “We don’t want to take up your time, I just wanted to thank you.”

“But—” Talia starts, and falls quiet when Derek looks at her again. “I can’t even see the people in the jail?”

“It’s not really a jail,” Stiles says, shrugging, “just a holding cell. And there’s no one in it right now.”

“Boo,” Talia says. “Can I meet your Sheriff?”

“Lia,” Derek warns, and she sighs explosively. “Sorry about—all this. I talked to Cora and she knows to give Talia a little more attention during homework time, so she won’t—she shouldn’t—be calling you again. Talia, we need to get home. Say thank you and goodbye.”

“Bye, Mr. Deputy Stiles,” she says, and he knows—he knows—that her sticking out her bottom lip and pouting is nothing more than a manipulation tactic, but it hits him all the same. “Thank you.”

--

“Deputy Stilinski,” he says before he fully has the receiver to his ear, wadding up a piece of scrap paper and tossing it at Jordan’s head to get his attention. He motions to the pizza box laying on his desk—dinner for the station courtesy of Derek, who clearly didn’t know the going rate for tutors given the sheer amount he’d dropped on gift cards—and makes a grabbing motion. They’ll be having station dinners for weeks—so long as they cater to his busted foot and bring him what he wants. Otherwise, he’s spending it all on himself.

“Hi,” someone says, and “sorry, this is Derek Hale, Talia’s dad?”

“Hey,” he says, sitting up straighter. “How can I help you?”

“I—” there’s a pause and a muffled sound, a conversation happening just outside of what Stiles can hear. “Sorry, I—I wanted to ask if you would be interested in getting coffee on Saturday. With me,” he adds, and Stiles can hear it when he cups his hand over the microphone and says, “Talia, stop.”

It’s like a record scratch in his brain. “Coffee?” he repeats. He’d thanked karma for smiling down on him, but he’d figured the encounter with Derek was one and done. “You want—with me?”

“Yes,” Derek says, “although my daughter is also extremely interested and I believe is willing to fight me for you.”

Laughter bursts out of his mouth before he can stop it. “You know, I think Talia did call dibs first,” he says, grinning. “What if we all got coffee and then you and I went for lunch?”

“I can work with that,” Derek says. “It’s a date.”

#sterek #sterek fic #derek hale #stiles stilinski #eli writes #sterek au #deputy stiles #KID FIC #meet cute

[downtonabbeyrevisited]

Season Two Episode Three

Conversion of the Abbey into a convalescent home for Officers is underway, ushering in a territorial battle that at times makes what is going on on the other side of the channel look like a mere scuffle. With the chain of command yet to be set, the floor is open for some of the best Isobel v. Cora v. Violet action that Downton has to offer. However, Isobel’s hostile takeover is slowed by a combination of O’Brien’s Machiavellian urges and Robert’s love of hierarchy. O’Brien tees up Thomas to take charge of Downton and coaxes him into the fray as he leans on an archway smoking his way into a wide variety of lung problems in later life. In an almost implausible about face (the key word for King Julian here is almost), Robert, Major Clarkson and Carson agree that Corpral Barrow is now trustworthy(ish), should be bumped up to the rank of Acting Sargent and be allowed to use the front door (although Carson remains unsure about the last bit). With Thomas in place and Major Clarkson at the hospital, Robert is on the hunt for another “tier” having looked at this microcosm of society and decided that there was not enough division. Evelyn Napier’s request to stay at Downton prompts Major Clarkson to enact border controls that would make Priti Patel look on in envy and neatly demonstrates the bind in which the Crawleys now find themselves. It is perhaps fitting, if predicable, that by the end of the episode Isobel and Cora are to share responsibility for Downton in what will remain the worst coalition of all time until 2015 when Cadbury will get together with Vegemite. Look it up. Trust me, it was rank. 

Having an equally tense episode is Lavina who, fresh from behind manhandled behind the laurels, is now under Rosamund’s microscope with Violet declaring her to be an object to be removed which is a bit harsh even for her. It is rumoured that Lavinia stole secrets from her Uncle for Richard Carlisle to publish as part of his uncovering of the Marconi Scandal, a historical event whose name is said loudly and clearly at least three times so that we can all Google it in the ad-break. Sensing a potential weakness, the Crawley women (who I am resisting the urge to call Robert’s Angels) dig deeper as Mary hunts out Lavinia to give her the third degree. Lavinia admits that she did start the uncovering of the scandal but not in the pursuit of a transparent and accountable government. Instead it was to save her father from financial ruin. And all of her sudden, in exposing corruption and hypocrisy just to save her own skin she has gone from being a Department of Health and Social Care security guard to Dominic Cummings. 

Violet’s concerns about the potential carnage that mixing ranks could let loose are not unfounded as Major Bryant confuses the Abbey with the Villa and Ethel takes one look at him and thinks “He’s a little bit of me”. Sadly/fortunately Ethel’s tucking in of Major Bryant’s blankets is halted by Mrs Hughes before Laura Whitmore can ask everyone to gather around the fire pit. 

Apparently more romantically reticent than Bryant is Bates, who has taken to hiding behind a tree in the Village on Wednesdays just to catch a glimpse of Anna, demonstrating a behaviour pattern that does not throw up any red flags at all. Richard Carlises’ network of spies find him in a pub in Kirkbymoorside which Anna describes as “odd” despite the fact that of all the things he has done (or is about to do) in this episode, let alone the Downton Abbey canon as a whole, this is definitely the most sensible decision he has made. It means he does not have to navigate the staircases that formed a fair amount of his plot in the previous season for a start. Rather than leave him be, Anna takes an alarmingly shiny bus to an almost forensically clean pub where she orders what turns out to be a very horrific looking glass of cider from an eternally conflicted Bates. Bates tells Anna his plan to divorce Vera and declares that he does not care about gender discrimination in the law. In return Anna shows off her attempt at using this week’s bit of new technology, the curling iron. Asked for his opinion, Bates replies that he would love Anna “however, whatever, wherever”, cleverly avoiding the question in a way that simultaneously shows the depth of his amour but also indicates that he thinks it’s hideous. 

Edith finds herself lacking purpose and direction like most people in their mid-twenties. Sybil, the annoying over-achieving younger sibling, tells her to work out what she is good at which turns out to be being a scribe, and getting books and carcinogenic substances for Officers. Edith’s quiet industry enables her to gain a good working knowledge of all the key protagonists on General Strutt’s tour which earns her a toast at Lunch. For Edith, this is the equivalent of getting an M.B.E. 

Another character looking to take advantage of General Strutt’s sojourn is Branson whose plans to be a conscientious objector are scuppered by a heart murmur. His flair for the dramatic takes him to the courtyard of deceit (a location looking to form an alliance with the tree of emotional conflict and the platform of romantic uncertainty) where he polishes headlamps and gathers intel about the impending visit. The lack of footmen leaves an opening for Branson to cause if not the downfall, certainly the minor humiliation, of the British Army. A cryptic “forgive me” note prompts some some Blair Witch style camera work to underline the sense of urgency as Anna pelts it downstairs. The costume department breathe a sigh of relief as Branson manhandled out of the dining room before he can upend a rather creative concoction which invites the question, how did he get so much ink? 

As William shows off his uniform, Daisy, coached by Mrs Patmore, continues to lead him up the garden path. William admits he is nervous about the prospect of facing the brutal reality of World War One and Mrs Patmore gently weeps across the table bringing her episode:crying ratio up pretty high even for something on a Sunday evening on ITV. Luckily, there is an opening for William to become Matthew’s solider servant which is good news for William and the budget as the exact same section of trench can continue to be used for both characters. Before he leaves, William proposes to Daisy and, naturally, Mrs Patmore accepts. Daisy’s “go on then” is hardly the most ringing of endorsements and her face resembling that of a rabbit who has taken a wrong turn and finds themselves on the fringes of the M4 cannot be reasonably described as elated. Daisy does manage to gather herself to delay the now inevitable wedding and so becomes possibly the only person in Britain who was not hoping for it to be all over by Christmas. 

Lang and his ever present mournful violin accompaniment continue to have a rough time of it. He repays Mrs Patmore’s kindness by outing Archie to the rest of the servants, causing her to leave the room in abject misery. But this reaction could also have been caused by the prospect of a mistimed crumble. It’s difficult to tell. Lang’s nightmare enables the women to bust through the hitherto impenetrable divide between the male and female staff quarters and it is clear that his days at Downton are numbered. Lang collapses as the General and his entourage retreat and his use as a plot device in this very much smoothed over view of the past is at its end. He is dismissed with a decent wage package and a good reference and is never to be spoken of again. 

Romantic declaration of the moment 

William and Daisy do not get this one as this is a coercion free zone. Instead Mary and Matthew get it. Matthew being back at Downton gives Mary the chance to stare at him longingly across a room but it is her decision not to rat out Lavinia as a reluctant whistleblower that earns their spot here. Only an almost unfathomable amount of love would make Mary place Matthew’s happiness above her own. 

Expressive eyebrow of the week 

Regular winner Carson claims the prize again this week. His blind fury at Branson’s then presumed to be assassination attempt is glorious. 

Wait, what? 

“Marmaduke was not a rough diamond” No-one called Marmaduke can be called rough anything. Sort of reminds me of a picture my brother showed me of his then partner’s friends when they were younger spelling out the name of their public school boarding house in gangster sign language. Zero self-awareness. 

“Acting Sargent I believe” Aloe standing by. 

“The bastard had it coming” I think I need to revise my previous curse word estimate. 

No particular quote for this bit but Branson delivering news from Russia made him seem like a man who had read the headline and maybe the first paragraph (at a push) of an article and is now holding forth on the topic, ready to take on anyone with a P.h.D in the matter. I do like Branson but increasingly it’s when he shuts up. 

The least believable bit of this whole episode was Isis being completely unbothered by an incoming pingpong ball. I once stayed in a friend’s house where an absolute catastrophe was disguising itself as a dog. She would eye up the limes on the sideboard expecting them to vault across the room. When any even vaguely spherical object did achieve airspeed velocity, she would lose it. And I mean lose it. 

General Strutt’s tour of Downton has an air of a politician doing a ward round. Should you yourself fear an encounter with our current premiere, you can pick up one of these cards from the News From Nowhere bookshop in Liverpool (other retailers may be available but this is the only place I have seen them). 

#Downton #downton abbey #downton rewatch #Mary Crawley #Matthew Crawley #tom branson #sybil branson #edith crawley #thomas barrow #john bates #anna bates #Charles Carson #elsie hughes #Isobel Crawley

[lemonpeter]

STARKER by Peter B. Parker

Chapter 4: Reunion

A/N: things are moving along! we can’t wait to hear what you guys think! - bloo and bri

Warnings: death mention, Peter is still 17 (that isn’t changing), marriage discussion, resurrection (in a way), mention of trauma

Masterlist ao3

————

Ned stared up at the overly large glass doors in front of him. “Whoa.”

The new SHIELD headquarters was pretty impressive, mirrored glass making up the entire outside. An interesting choice for a building that got attacked quite a bit, but maybe it was reinforced glass. It wasn’t his place to judge.

The agent that had been sent to pick him up simply looked at the teenager blankly before snapping his fingers a few times in quick succession. "Inside, please."

"Oh, yeah, okay right." Taking a step forward, Ned walked through the doors when they slid open. "So, uh, do you know where I am supposed to go, exactly?" He looked over at Grumpy expectantly.

"Front desk," was the only response he received as the man walked away from him.

So much for that. "Thanks," Ned muttered to himself, clutching the straps of his backpack and making his way to said front desk. Not off to a great start. The first guy definitely was not the most helpful person in the world, but maybe someone else would be. He hoped that would be the case.

The blonde woman sitting behind the desk looked up at him, pausing her typing. "May I help you?" She didn’t sound unkind, so Ned decided to try his luck.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, I think so. I'm here to see-"

"Leeds."

His head jerked up as he heard the voice. That was not at all something he had expected. It was hard enough to convince himself that the email was real, but he hadn’t even dreamed that he’d be having any direct interactions with the man in front of him. "Holy shit, you're Nick Fury! I mean- uh- yes, Ned Leeds, that's me.”

There was a moment of tension before the director narrowed his eye in Ned’s direction and spun around on his heel."Come with me. You need to be fingerprinted and we need to get you a badge."

“A badge? Like- the kind someone who works here gets?”

“Not exactly.”

Throughout the whole process, Ned was wide-eyed with amazement. Everything was so cool. The whole thing had to be a dream, and he was sure he was going to blink and wake up in his bedroom. He repeatedly did his best to hold back streams of thrilled babbling and little noises of excitement.

He still hadn’t held back as much as the director had hoped.

“You’ll be working with one of our agents,” Fury groused, pausing as the door to the briefing room slid open to allow them to enter. He stepped away from the teen to sit in the dark leather desk chair placed at the head of the long glass table. Looking down at his watch, he sighed before raising his gaze back up. “Oliver will be your point person. You’re not to bother anyone else, understood?”

Ned nodded his head a few times in quick succession. “Yes sir, Mr. Fury, sir.” When the man’s eye narrowed at him, he hastily corrected himself. Shit. “Sorry, sorry- Director Fury. Sir.” He hurriedly let himself fall into another desk chair to Fury’s right and waited for further instructions.

None came. The only sounds to be heard were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the soft whoosh of their breathing. What was with no one giving him any information? It was unnerving, as was the silence, and Ned couldn’t help himself-

“So, uh-,” he started, fiddling with his backpack, which he was now clutching in his lap. “When’s this Oliver guy supposed to get here? What like, department is he from?”

Fury merely stared at him blankly, expression giving absolutely nothing away. “That’s classified information.” His eyebrow twitched minutely, betraying the fact that he was fucking with Ned, but the teen didn’t pick up on it.

“Oh, oh okay. Well what can I know? Like- How am I supposed to help you guys-”

The door burst open, a slight female form rushing into the room, arms full. “Sorry I’m late, Director,” she breathed, nearly gliding along the floor as she made her way to a seat on the opposite side of the table from Ned, beside Fury. Her glasses were slipping down the slope of her nose and she hurriedly pushed them up with the side of her hand. She took a deep breath before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that had come out of the intricate braiding atop her head. “I-”

The man sighed and shook his head. “I don’t wanna hear it Oliver-”

Ned’s mouth was open wide as he stared at the girl woman across from him. “Huh? But you’re-”

His interjection made the young woman turn her attention on him, a smile overtaking her kind face. “Oh! You must be Mr. Leeds! It’s nice to meet you, thanks so much for coming in. We could really use your help to locate your friend Peter.” She stuck her hand out, delicately French-tipped fingers shining in the light. “Paige Oliver, SHIELD Agent.”

Palm slightly clammy, Ned’s fingers twitched as they shook hands. “Paige,” the teen whispered, awestruck, before catching himself. “I mean, um, Oliver?” His cheeks flushed a little and he cursed himself and pulled his hand back. How was he supposed to address her? He had not been prepared to be working with a girl, much less one as pretty as this agent was. She couldn’t be that much older than him, probably an older teen, but only 25 at most. Fuck. “I’m uh, I’m Ned. Guy in the chair.”

Paige grinned at him, dark eyes lighting up behind her lenses. “Welcome to the team.”

Fury just rolled his eye with a huff as he waved a hand through the air. “If you two are finished- Oliver, catch him up to speed.”

***

Peter looked up from his notebook when he heard footsteps padding across the carpet of the sitting area. His eyes burned slightly and he couldn’t help but wonder just how long he’d been working. It was hard to keep track of time in the illusion. “Hey T,” he smiled, running a hand through his hair as he looked back at Tony.

“Hi yourself,” the older man replied, looking rather cozy in his sweatpants and t-shirt as he sat down on the couch beside his fiance. His arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulders and he pressed a quick kiss to his temple. “Whatcha workin on? Wedding stuff?”

Peter sighed, snuggling into the embrace. It was so nice to just be held. “How’d you guess?” Like it hadn’t been all he’d been working on since the proposal.

Tony chuckled. “You get this little wrinkle- right here,” he poked the middle of Peter’s forehead before smoothing the pad of his finger over the area. “Means you’re focused too hard on something.”

Letting out a little huff of a laugh, the teen let himself relax a bit more, head falling to rest on Tony’s shoulder. He liked how the man picked up on some of his body language or little quirks. “Yeah, some of this is just- it’s taking a lot more work than I thought it would.”

The billionaire made a soft noise. “Anything I can help with, baby? You know I don’t mind.”

Peter shook his head. “No, I… It’s okay, thank you, though. I really wanna do this- wanna surprise you, y’know?”

“Well, how about I-” Whatever Tony was beginning to say was cut off by the sound of Peter’s stomach growling. Loudly. He laughed before continuing, “How about I go get started on some lunch? You keep working, and I’ll call you when it’s ready, okay?”

“That sounds amazing, Tony, thank you.”

“Of course. Love you.”

“I love you too.” Opening the notebook back up once he could hear Tony banging around in the kitchen, Peter stared at his next task, one he’d been avoiding: the guest list. The blank guest list.

Other than himself and Tony, there were only a few people that he wanted there. He wanted his family to be there to see him get married, to see him finally get his happy ending.

Too bad everyone he’d ever loved was dead. (Except for May, but- He didn’t want to think about that.)

But...maybe he could bring them back. Just like he’d done with his new fiancé.

Just the thought made his heart beat faster in his chest, the possibility of seeing them all again. Uncle Ben. Fuck, his mom and dad. He’d give anything to hold them, to see their smiles and hear their laughter-

Before really even thinking about it, his pen was flying across the page. Mom. Dad. Ben. May.

He paused after the last one. He felt- Was it wrong to bring May back? She wasn’t really gone, not in the same way that the others were. She was just- missing. Fuck, he missed her so much. But maybe this was something he would have to do without her. Tears stung his eyes as he crossed her name out with a shaking hand.

Mom. Dad. Ben.

No. It looked incomplete with one of the most important people in his world missing. Wiping the tears away, Peter started writing again.

Mom. Dad. Ben. May.

***

“Have you guys tried to access EDITH?” When no one responded, instead just looked at him blankly, he furiously began flicking through the holograms in front of him, looking back and forth between it and his laptop. “Okay so EDITH is this really cool AI that Mr. Stark-”

Fury was quick to interrupt. He was doing his best to make sure there was no more rambling than was truly necessary. “We know about the tech, Leeds. But what reason would Parker have for creating illusions or utilizing the world’s most powerful armed-drone weapons system?”

“Look,” Ned sighed, fiddling with a pen. It made him feel weird, talking about Peter like this. “I know Peter. Probably better than almost anyone else. He...never really dealt with Mr. Stark’s death, and all of that stuff that happened in Europe with that Mysterio guy really didn’t help. Add in him being outed as Spider-Man?” He’d done a lot of thinking about this. And if he was honest with himself, he’d kind of known what was going on as soon as he knew his best friend had gone missing.

He desperately wanted to be wrong, but he knew that he wasn’t.

The young man shook himself out of his thoughts and continued. “He’s...hiding. He doesn’t want to be found because, well- Everything’s gone wrong here, for him. So he’s gone somewhere where nothing can go wrong.” His words only served to further convince himself as he said them out loud for the first time.

Nick stared at the teenager. “You’re telling me that Parker is creating his own alternate reality where everything is sunshine and fucking rainbows? He’s running around making daisy chains?”

Paige’s brows were furrowed as she tapped the cap of her pen on the table. “It’s a fairly normal and reasonable reaction, actually. Healthy, in some circumstances, though I’m not sure about this one. Mr. Leeds is right, Mr. Parker has dealt with extreme levels of trauma recently, and he’s most likely gone untreated if he’s anything like his older counterparts. He’s attempting to protect himself.”

Rolling his eyes, Fury turned his attention from the young agent back to their new ‘consultant’. Lord help him. “So you think he’s out there, unsupervised and unstable, with a multimillion dollar piece of Stark tech? Great. How do we find him, Einstein?”

Ned began typing furiously on his laptop. “Well, uh, I kinda already tried? I asked Paige, I mean- Agent Oliver, sorry, for access to SHIELD’s file on EDITH from last summer. I was able to look at the program logs and analyze their code. Once I figured out what I was working with, I was able to bypass some of the encrypted security features and download the logs up til now.” He frowned a bit, pausing. “I can see that the EDITH program has been in use recently- but the dispatch data for the drones… The location is scrambled.”

“So what you’re saying is we still don’t know where he is.” Paige’s voice was slightly amused.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The director’s most definitely was not.

“Hey, we might not know where he is, but we can at least get in contact with him now. Well- hopefully. Maybe. Since I was able to access EDITH’s archives and- basically, I think I can hack deeper into her programming and alter Peter’s illusions remotely.”

He thought back to the footage he had seen when he’d cautiously (read: uneasily- there had been things he’d never wanted to witness his best friend doing) made his way through the most recent files in EDITH’s archives in order to make sure Peter was indeed the one using the tech. And he definitely was. There was a lot to unpack there, especially considering the amount of time Peter was spending wearing the glasses.

But he was thinking specifically about the way Peter had written May’s name down on the notebook page titled “Guest List” before scratching it out, then repeated the whole process all over again several times.

This was definitely going to hurt his friend, Ned knew. But he also knew that it was for Peter’s own good. Hopefully the other teen would realize that in time, too.

“I think we should send May Parker in.”

***

Tony and Peter were laying on the couch in the living room, watching TV and cuddling. Or, well, their legs were cuddling. The older man was seated on one side, while Peter was stretched out on the other, their lower limbs entwined with each other under the fluffy throw blanket that the teen had claimed as his own.

Tony pointed his toes, pressing them into the meat of Peter’s thigh. “What’s up, baby? You aren’t even paying attention- this is your favorite show.” He waved his hand through the air, the gesture pausing the program. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he turned to study the young man’s face. “You look...anxious, Pete. What is it?”

Quickly trying to school his facial expression into something more neutral, Peter made eye contact with Tony for a second before directing his gaze to the giant flatscreen in front of them. “I’m fine,” he said softly. “Just thinking, y'know? Sorry for getting distracted,” he trailed off as Tony started the show back up again.

He had made up his mind about bringing his family back. He missed them and wanted to spend time with them, share this part of his life. There was no reason not to; it wouldn't hurt anyone.

Anyone other than Peter, that was. But he’d already worked on coming to terms with that.

So he was starting to second-guess himself. What would happen when it was time to say goodbye? Could he handle that?

Or- actually, he never got to say goodbye to them in the first place. His parents had died miles away from him. He'd been young enough that he couldn't really remember them dropping him off with his aunt and uncle when they left for their trip. He hadn't been with Ben when he was murdered. Maybe this time he could finally get the closure he so desperately needed, on his own terms.

This would help him in the long run, he was sure of it. The whole thing would.

With his mind now made up, Peter reached his arm out to grab at Tony's hand, which squeezed his comfortingly. He watched the action on the screen without really following what was happening, debating the best way to move forward.

Peter took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing for a moment.

Then the elevator gave a soft ‘ding’ behind them, and FRIDAY’s gentle voice rang out through the penthouse, signalling that someone was on their way up.

Peter felt like all the tension he’d been holding in his body released at that moment. He was ready.

Tony, however, jumped a bit in surprise, the sudden interruption pulling his attention away from the TV, and turned to look at Peter with a confused look on his face. “Who- Are we expecting someone, Pete? Did you order pizza or something?” Waving his hand again, the program paused once more.

A nervous chuckle escaped Peter’s lips as he wiggled his way out from under the blanket. Thankfully the AI hadn’t mentioned exactly who was on their way up. “Or something,” he said, pushing himself off the couch. He walked up the two little steps to the main area of the penthouse, stopping a few feet from the elevator. The LED screen above the door indicated that it would be arriving momentarily, only two floors away.

The older man slowly made his way towards the teen. “Peter?” He sounded a bit anxious too, feeding off of his partner’s energy.

Shaking his head, Peter shot Tony a quick smile, one that he hoped was reassuring. He thought he’d had more of a grip on his emotions, at least from the other’s point of view. He would have to do better, couldn’t let his control slip so easily. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. Just- There’s some-”

Another ding, this one a bit louder, and the doors opened.

“Peter?”

Tears immediately welled up in the young man’s eyes when he heard the voice say his name. A sob erupted from his mouth as he brought his shaking hands up in an attempt to muffle it. “Mom,” he cried, barely even glancing at her before he was all but running into the arms that hadn’t held him in over a decade. “Mama- I-”

Mary ran her hand through her son’s curls, pulling him close to her chest. “Oh, Petey, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby, I’m right here.” She hummed softly, squeezing him tighter.

Peter shook his head, forehead digging into his mother’s collarbone. He didn’t want to let go, never wanted to let her go ever again. He felt like he was back to being six years old. She still smelled the same, like honey and vanilla. Like safety and home. “Missed you, missed you so much-”

Richard laughed softly from his place beside his wife once his son had started to calm down a little. “And what am I, Pete, chopped liver?”

“No, of course not,” the teen mumbled, turning his head to smile shakily at the man. One of his hands came up to wipe some of the tears away while the other stayed clutched around the fabric of Mary’s sweater. “But you’re not Mom.”

His father only laughed some more, moving to wrap his arms around them both. “It’s good to see you, bud. We’ve missed you something awful. Look how big you’ve gotten.”

“I’ll say!” Ben's exclamation made another choked sound bubble up from his nephew's lungs. His warm, booming voice broadcasted his happiness as much as the grin on his face. “Not a rugrat anymore, are ya champ?”

"Hi Uncle Ben," Peter said through more tears, overwhelmed at the sight of the man he'd grown to love as much as his own father.

After a moment and a few more pleasantries, the group started to move towards the sitting area, and Peter didn’t stray far from them, content with letting himself be enveloped by all the love he’d missed for so long, even as he heard Tony begin introducing himself to everyone.

But someone was still missing. He glanced behind his family in the direction of the elevator, trying to focus again.

May was supposed to be there too. She had to be, he couldn’t do this without her.

***

“Dammit, Leeds, patch her through,” Fury urged impatiently, closely watching the screen where they could see the illusion playing out in real time.

Ned winced in response, switching around a bit of the coding in what he hoped would be the last step. He hadn’t really had enough time to perfectly add any more tech to the program, but even his minor modifications would be helpful. They needed anything they could get in order to try and get through to Peter.

Hopefully his attempt would work.

He turned to look at May, who was watching everything with wide eyes. "You ready, May?"

And for a second, she didn't know how to answer that. The woman wasn’t so sure about getting involved with SHIELD, but she was desperate to have Peter back. She wasn’t sure what was going on with him. Things had been weird ever since Tony Stark died- well, weirder than the new normal of her teenage nephew moonlighting as a superhero. So there wasn’t any hesitation on her part when she agreed to going into his illusion.

It seemed complicated, but maybe that was just because she hadn’t ever been very into technology. Anything other than her phone seemed to be beyond her understanding.

Ned had managed to get an old virtual reality headset semi-patched into the EDITH program. In theory, it would allow May to see and participate in the illusion that Peter was living. And the hope was that he’d just think she was part of it until she could get to him. Then she could talk some sense into him and convince him to come home where he belonged.

“Alright May, here we go,” the teen spoke up again despite her silence, eyes back on his computer screen. “Anything coming up yet?”

May sighed and shifted her position in the chair, about ready to pull the stupid headset off. She knew that she probably looked pretty ridiculous to everyone else in the room. And for what? All she saw was a black screen, mocking her with its emptiness. “No. Nothing. It’s just-“

Suddenly there was a flicker of light that turned into a hazy mess of colors- It almost looked like what she saw without her glasses. “Wait, I think I might have something!”

A hush took over the room as all eyes were on May, everyone waiting with bated breath to see if their efforts would be successful.

“Remember what we discussed earlier, you have to act like you’re part of his world. He can’t know that you’re actually you yet. It is imperative that you assimilate into his alternate reality,” Paige said from where she was standing across the room, watching as the older woman began to turn her head about, clearly trying to explore her surroundings. “We might only have one shot at this!”

May took a deep breath and nodded. Yeah, no pressure. She definitely remembered. She had been instructed to keep her feelings in check until they either got Peter to shut the whole thing down or they learned his location. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t act differently than how Peter expected her to in the scene he’d set. Which was going to be- challenging, to say the least. Because she definitely had a lot of feelings about this whole situation going on between him and Mr. Stark.

Ned’s hands flew across the keys, his whole focus on successfully getting May into the illusion and to Peter. He had to save his best friend. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, otherwise.

The whole picture slowly came to life before May’s eyes, blurred blobs sharpening into recognizable objects, and she could no longer hear the commotion of the people around her. All she heard was-

She heard the sound of Ben's laughter, mingling with the voices of Richie and Mary, and her heart somehow sank to her stomach and jumped up into her throat at the same time.

He’d really brought them all back.

***

The elevator dinged once more, the missing piece to Peter’s puzzle walking out with a gentle smile on her face as she looked around the open layout apartment. May made eye contact with Peter and her face immediately lit up. “Oh, Peter. Hi baby, it’s so good to see you.”

Peter’s own eyes widened, and he grinned as he took a step towards her. He heard his uncle cry out happily behind him, “There you are, May! What’d you do, get lost?” At the same time, the hair on his arms stood on end and a shiver ran down his spine. And huh- he must’ve missed his aunt even more than he thought, in order to be excited enough for this type of-

With a gasp and a panicked cry, Peter’s eyes flew open as he fumbled with the glasses until they went flying from his face. The sound of them hitting the padded floor vaguely registered in his mind. He turned his head left and right frantically, while simultaneously springing to his feet and leaping up into the corner where the ceiling met the wall.

His heart was racing in his chest and thudding in his ears as his eyes darted around the room, trying to locate the threat that his extra sense was picking up on. (He refused to call it the Peter-Tingle on principle.)

It was silent for five minutes as he sat there, shaking and blinking back tears. Nothing had happened- Karen said there were no other heat signatures within a 70 mile radius. There was obviously no threat but- What the fuck was that?

His spidey-sense had been haywire for a while, yeah, ever since he came back after the Blip. But it was always a case of them not alerting him to potential threats, never had they been overactive like that, unnecessarily hyper-vigilant.

Maybe it was all the stress finally catching up with him.

Trying to control his breathing, Peter let himself drop down to the floor, landing in a crouch. He stood up and slowly made his way over to the gym mats he had been lounging on. The teen spun around in a circle once he reached them, searching the ground for the blue-framed lenses.

They weren’t too far away so he retrieved them in a couple steps and ran his finger over the dark glass. There didn’t seem to be any damage, thankfully. He’d never forgive himscame backthing happened to the glasses. They were the only good thing he had left.

Tucking back into his prior position, Peter curled up on the cushioned surface. After looking around a few more times, listening as hard as he could, he sighed and placed the glasses back on his face.

He had a family to get back to, and he didn’t want to keep them waiting any longer than he already had.

#starker #tony stark #peter parker #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #Peter’s EDITH!verse #SbPBP #B&B write #starker fluff #tw death mention #I don’t even know how all to tag this #May Parker #Ben Parker #ned leeds #nick fury #original female character #uhhhh #Mary and Richard Parker

[actuallybarb]

The Aftermath ~ Part 6

Summary: y/n does nothing to discourage morgan stark from swearing, senior year officially starts, and y/n never considered herself stiles but when peter is lydia she’s alright with it

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, y/n fixing everyone’s problems, trauma

Word Count: 3023

A/N: shit shit shit i love it i’m here for it i shamelessly stole it from Teen Wolf

                                                        ///////////

I stayed at the compound that weekend, working with FRIDAY and Pepper to get the rest of the footage salvaged and try to clear Spider-Man’s name.

“‘Morning, FRIDAY,” I yawned out as I slipped back into the desk chair in the lab Friday morning. “Any progress on the footage from EDITH?”

“We got footage from the bridge, but it doesn’t look too good for Peter.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Show me.”

I sipped Sokovian tea (Wanda was a genius with tea leaves) as I played the footage over and over again. “Of course it doesn’t look good for Peter, it’s his face.” Peter’s face was telling EDITH to stop all of the drones. But the whole point was so Spider-Man wouldn’t get charged with murder, not proving his true identity. “Well shit.”

“Shit.” I turned in my chair and saw Morgan Stark at the door, a proud grin on her face.

Pepper had brought Morgan by last weekend and she and I had become fast friends. After nearly losing her mind over where her daughter was, Pepper found Morgan happily chasing mini tornadoes I made in the training room. After that, she would ask FRIDAY for periodic updates, but mostly Morgan and I got to run free around the compound.

I pointed a finger at her. “I refuse to be blamed for your foul mouth, got it?” She nodded then ran over and climbed onto my lap, looking at the videos.

“Peter?”

“Yup. And that’s the problem.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“Because in this moment we needed him to have his mask on.”

“But he doesn’t.”

“Now you see the problem.”

“Why can’t we just put his mask on him?”

“Because, Young Stark, that would be considered tampering, and would completely nullify the evidence in a courtroom.”

“So Peter’s stuck being Peter?”

“Peter’s stuck being Peter.”

“Shit.”

“Shit is right.” I looked at her sternly. “No swearing in front of Pepper, got it?” I stuck out my pinky and she wrapped her tiny one around it, squeezing hard. “Let me just email your mom about this, then we can go on an adventure, okay?”

The email took twenty seconds, then Morgan and I were racing through the compound, brushing past anyone who got in our way. We had just turned down an unexplored hallway when we heard sniffles. I screeched to a stop. “Wait right here, Morgan.” One tap of my foot and I ‘saw’ them in a coat closet. And I was pretty sure I already knew who it was. I knocked very lightly on the door. “Peter?”

There was a lot of shuffling, then silence. “Who is it?”

“Y/N.” Morgan stomped her foot. “And Morgan.”

“Oh. Hey, guys.”

“Can I open the door?”

Before he even answered I could tell he was uncomfortable. His heart rate picked up and his fingers started tapping on his knee.

“Hey, Morgan. I’m going to talk to Peter for a little bit. Can you find Wanda until I get back? We can go on our adventure after.” She looked between me and the closet before nodding, running off the same way we came. “Keep an eye on her, FRI.”

Then I opened the door.

How I managed to squeeze inside that closet with Peter already in it was an absolute mystery to me, but I eventually closed the door on myself and let the space be dark.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s up?”

“Not much.”

“Really? That’s good news.”

“Yup, just peachy.”

“Huh, could’ve fooled me. Why are you crying in a closet, then?”

“Oh, you know, just…” He stayed silent.

I nudged his knee with mine. “Talk to me, Pete. It’s just us.”

He sniffled again. “MJ called. She - she, uh. She said— She can’t be with me right now.”

“She broke up with you?” I couldn’t believe my ears. Was I excited? Disappointed? I wouldn’t know.

“She said, with all of this Mysterio stuff still going on, it’s best if we’re not together.” His head dropped to his knees. ”School starts in four days, Y/N. How am I going to face her? How am I going to face anyone?”

His voice and my heart cracked at the end of his sentence. “I don’t know.” I stretched my hand forward and held onto his forearm, slowly running my thumb back and forth. “I’ll be there. Ned will be there. I’ll happily hit anyone in the face who says anything to you.”

He snorted. “You wouldn’t.”

“You weren’t there when I punched Flash.”

His head shot up. “You punched Flash?”

“You see what you miss when you get stopped at the airport?”

He laughed. “That stupid banana.”

I smiled and leaned back, letting my hand fall from his arm. “Have you called Ned?”

He stiffened slightly. “A couple days ago.”

“You should call him. Now you guys have something else in common.” His eyebrows scrunched together. “You both have had girlfriends and broken up with them in the same summer.” He visibly cringed. “Too soon, sorry.” I ended up in a squatting position, one hand on the knob. I grabbed his arm and gave it a small squeeze. “You’re going to be okay, Peter.”

I probably shouldn’t have left him in the closet, but I had a call to make.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“What the fuck, MJ?”

“What?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You broke up with Peter?”

Did I want Peter to be single so I could eventually shoot my shot? Yes. But not like this.

I found a different closet to hide in, pushing myself as far against the wall as possible and hopefully muffling my voice enough no one could hear me.

“You’ve seen everything on the news, Y/N. Spider-Man’s identity revealed, then Spider-Man killing Mysterio, it’s- it’s-“

“You know it’s not true. You know Peter’s Spider-Man and you know he would never hurt a fly, let alone kill Beck, no matter how hurt he was. Beck tried to kill you, and you’re punishing Peter for this?”

“I don’t know what to think! All of this shit about holograms and hallucinations, I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t. You saw how real that Elemental looked in Prague, you can’t say you’re not a little bit freaked out about this.”

”No, I can’t, but I can’t say that breaking your trust with Peter is the best option right now either.”

There was a deep sigh on the other end of the line. “Take care of him, Y/N. You get him and all of this superhero shit more than I ever will.”

Then she hung up.

She hung up.

Take care of him? What did she think I was doing, huh? What have I been doing this whole time?

I left the closet and made my way to the living room, ready for a six year old distraction. “Morgan?”

“Y/N!” She was sitting beside Peter on the couch, the afternoon sun filtering through her long eyelashes. “Come watch a movie with us.”

“How ‘bout some lunch first?”

“How about lunch and a movie?”

I laughed. “You’re convincing, I’ll give you that. Chicken nuggets?”

“Yeah!”

“Peter, chicken nuggets?”

“Sure.”

Morgan picked Disney movie after Disney movie, her attention never wavering. Once the sun went down, though, my eyes were getting heavy. After so many days of no sleep, my body insisted darkness meant it was time for bed. We were on movie number 4 (Sleeping Beauty, go figure) when my eyes couldn’t stay open. Before I knew it, my breathing had evened out and I only saw the insides of my eyelids.

I woke up the next morning on one of the most comfortable pillows I had ever had, which was saying a lot, ‘cause I had one of those memory foam ones. I could’ve slept on it forever, but then it shifted around and my neck got squished, and—

Wait.

Is this thing moving?

I opened my eyes, and sure enough, it was. I just so happened to be using the legs of none other than Peter Parker for a pillow. How I ended up like that, I have no idea, but my heart was in my throat the second I realized it.

It’s like I was frozen. (I had accidentally frozen myself on more than one occasion, it’s about as fun as you think it would be.) I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, all I could do was watch his chest move as he inhaled. It slowly started to move faster until I could feel his heart rate speeding up, and I knew something was wrong.

“Peter?” I sat up and turned to face him, one hand moving to his shoulder. “Wake up, Peter.” I shook him probably a little too harshly and he started awake, his eyes wild. “Hey.”

“Are you real?”

A nightmare. No wonder he was freaking out, he wasn’t sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Yeah, I’m real.”

“Can- Can you prove it?” He saw the flash of distrust in my eyes and backtracked instantly. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s fine, Pete. Seriously.” He didn’t look like he believed me, so I had to think of something quick that would prove I was real. “Last night, we watched Sleeping Beauty, ‘cause it was Morgan’s fourth request, and you were actually really excited to watch it because you’d never seen it before, and so it starts and you were out in the first fifteen minutes.”

“Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself? Because you were asleep way before I was.”

“You woke up, sure, but you definitely fell asleep before I did.”

He smiled and leaned his head back, but it eventually dropped. He looked at me and asked quietly, “How can you tell? What’s real and what isn’t?”

The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when I answered. “The bending. People move a specific way, even just how they walk and how they stand, and it can’t be mimicked. Beck tried it, he tried to make himself look like you, but it just felt wrong. Everything is slightly off when what I’m seeing isn’t reality.”

He grumbled, “Wish I could do that.”

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “You can, Peter. You already have half of it down, you just have to pay attention to it.”

“What do you mean?” He was fully sitting up at this point, his entire body engaged in my every word.

“You have heightened senses, right? Which makes the hallucinations ten times worse for you.” He nodded. “You can use those to your advantage. Heartbeats, footsteps, shifts in the dirt, they’re all jumbled together until you can differentiate between people. It takes a lot of concentration and time, but it eventually becomes second nature.” I was tapping the cushion with every other finger, a trick I picked up from my shrink after The Blip first happened. It used to be a coping mechanism, now it’s just a habit when I zone out.

“Can you teach me?”

His eyes were bright. How could I say no to him when he was looking at me like that? You did, Y/N, like three weeks ago. Okay, but those were life-threatening circumstances. This is different.

“Sure. But not today.” I stood up and stretched completely, then checked the time on the oven. Seven twenty-seven. I could get home just after eight if I left right now.

I made it at eight, right on the dot.

////////////

Stepping off the subway, I knew school was going to be rough. Not just that day, but the week, the month, the semester, the year. Senior year was supposed to be enjoyable, right? After the last few disasters Mr. Harrington has been apart of on his school trips, they all but banned us from going on any more of them. Not that I really minded, except for the senior trip we were supposed to have right after graduation. Summer was exciting enough for a lifetime, I didn’t need any more repeats of that.

I walked into the building, headphones in but no music playing. There was Brad, leaning against the locker of some poor unassuming junior. Flash, his camera on, documenting the last first day of high school. MJ, her own pair of headphones in, made eye contact with me briefly, then looked down at her phone again just as fast. Peter and Ned, slightly more solemn than usual, standing at their lockers, comparing class schedules.

My locker was only a few down from them, so I said hello before passing by, the three-number code learned by heart.

I sensed Peter and Ned before I ever heard them. “If I concentrate any harder on these footsteps I’m going to lose my mind.” He had texted me all weekend asking about how to learn movement patterns and footsteps, so he was obviously practicing my tips.

I laughed. “Yeah, duh, Peter, even I don’t know what everyone moves like. The trick is to learn the people you’re close to, then learn to pick them out of a crowd. Start with someone you see a lot of, who you’re familiar with, then work from there.”

“Ooh.”

I looked over at Ned. “How was the rest of your summer, Ned? Any more girlfriends?”

“No, I’m still a bachelor. I think I’ll stay this way for a while - strong independent man who doesn’t need a woman. But, I mean, if someone comes along, it’s not like I’ll say no.”

“I respect the hustle. Don’t tie yourself down, Ned.”

“Thank you, Y/N, I really appreciate that.” The bell rang and he looked down at his schedule. “I have physics, I’ll see you guys later.”

“What do you have?”

I looked at my own schedule, nearly running into someone as we walked through the hall. “Spanish. You?”

“Spanish.” I grabbed his sheet of paper and compared them.

“No fucking way.” We had every single class together.

Every.

Single.

Class.

Pepper.

“What is it?”

“We have every class together.”

“No way.” He grabbed the papers from my hands and looked over them himself. “The chances of this happening are—“

“Minuscule.”

He just shrugged it off. “Nice to have a familiar face in the crowd.”

I shot Pepper a quick text before we walked into Spanish.

Really, you have us in every class together?

I’m worried about him, Y/N. Frankly, I’m worried about you, too. Just keep an eye out for each other, okay?

Yeah yeah sure.

This school year just got a whole lot more interesting.

/////////

I guess I could consider Flash a friend. He was nice enough not to post the video he had of me being an Elemental and he let me use his shoulder as a pillow on the flight home. The only communication we had over the rest of the summer was me commenting something on his Instagram story and him replying. So I was a little surprised when he took a seat beside me in chemistry, but not disappointed.

“Do you and Parker have every class together?”

“Yup.”

“Shit that sucks.”

“He’s alright, Eugene, maybe one day you’ll realize that.”

“I can’t believe Mysterio tried to say Parker was Spider-Man. I mean, can you think of a less-likely candidate?”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop insulting my friends, Eugene, or I’ll make you move seats and do this class on your own.”

He shut up for a little bit, but when we got a review sheet to do that went over all of last year’s class, he started whispering. “Are you still, you know, turning into monsters and knocking people into rivers?” He hissed in pain as my foot connected with his shin. “Okay, I’ll take that as a no.”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” I whispered.

“It was fucking badass, Y/N.” Another hiss of pain.

“People died, Eugene. Do you not get that? People died because of me. All of the people in our trip could have died and it would have been my fault.” The bell rang and I nearly sprinted out of the class.

My heart was beating too fast, my breathing was too shallow. I knew those were a bad combination, but I couldn’t stop. The room was spinning and I couldn’t feel the ground underneath me and holy shit am I falling?

Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me through a door, and as much as I wanted to pull away I knew I could trust whoever it was.

“Breathe with me, Y/N, okay?”

Peter.

“Just breathe with me.”

I tried. You have no idea how badly I wanted to stop feeling like that. But my body couldn’t catch up to my brain and that freaked me out even more and now I was getting lightheaded. “I- I-“

And then a completely new sensation filled my brain. Lips. Soft - maybe a little chapped - lips were on mine.

I didn’t need help breathing anymore because Peter Parker literally took my breath away.

He pulled away, but I kept my eyes closed. Maybe if I keep them closed I can hold onto it just a little bit longer.

“You okay?”

God his voice was so soft. I just wanted to wrap myself in it and take a nap.

“Did you get that from Teen Wolf?”

Smooth, Y/N, real smooth.

Shut up.

“Ye- yeah, I did.”

I sighed in relief. “Thanks. For stopping it.”

“No problem.”

“How’d you know?”

“Teen Wolf.”

“No, how’d you know I was having a panic attack?”

“Oh. Your- your heartbeat, actually. We have every class together, so yours has been the easiest to learn so far. Then I heard it beating like crazy so I knew something was up.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

I thought about it for a second. “Maybe later, when we’re not sitting on the floor of an empty classroom.”

He laughed. “Okay.” He stood up and gave me his hand, pulling me to my feet. “C’mon, we’re late for English.” He led the way down the nearly empty hallway, while I pulled out my phone and sent one more text to Pepper.

Okay, it was a good idea.

tags: @eridanuswave​ @vampirestrawberries​

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot #marvel #marvel comics #reader insert #peter parker x mj #ned leeds #michelle jones #flash thompson #spiderman far from home #mcu #spiderman #avengers

[fvckme-sir]

hey my lovely congrats on the milestone i love matchups so i thought i’d send one in for haikyuu or jjk, i need to remember what you asked for us to say, so i obviously love writing and reading and just spending time with my friends and i love baking as well and watching anime, i don’t dislike a lot of things except like the icks i have for guys 😅 but yeah i’m south asian 5’5, black hair brown eyes and i’m extroverted af, my dream date would be stargazing or going to the museum but i also love dinner dates like anything to do with food i’d be there, my love language is physical touch and i’m a person who defo needs reassurance throughout the relationship but also just like unexpected grand gestures are my faves, i think this is everything oh also my pronouns are she/her and nsfw if possible, congrats again my lovely ☺️

thank you so so so much!! i know it's a small milestone but that means that there are 20 people out there who enjoy my work! and because youre so sweet and supportive, im gonna do both haikyuu and jjk for ya!!

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your jjk match issssss..... itadori yuji!!

my reason:

yuji definitely has a sweet tooth so he'd eat every single sweet treat you make. he'd devour it and enjoy every bite, both because it'd delicious and because it's your creation.

something to be aware of though is that yuji is quite antsy, touchy and excitable. in the museum, expect him to run between pieces to comment on how pretty it is, or if it looks weird, then off to the next one he goes (def one of those kids who was put on a leash in public).

he'd also love if when you read, you did it out loud so he could lay down and listen. same goes with stargazing. his legs would be intertwined with yours with his face buried in your neck. don't be shocked you feel a bulge though. he's very sensitive and excitable.

how do you let him take care of his problem?

let him rub his clothed erection against you until he creams his pants! if being a bit more control is your thing though, make him ask nicely for it, and maybe even make him ask to cum!(the moan he releases upon his orgasm is heavenly and unparalleled.

of course he has to return the favor so he definitely will slide between your thighs and lap at your sweet little cunt. he takes great pleasure in it too!

he's surprisingly good with his tongue too! he knows just where to flick, lick, and suck! he will absolutely adore the sounds you make, every single one! also, please please please pull his hair. he will love the roughness of it. he honestly could sit between your thighs for hours, and that's how he loves not only overstimulating you, but also making you squirt<3

he would also love to meet your friends! he's s sweet on you so he'd want to learn every single thing about you. the funny, the upsetting, everything. he'll also keep an arm around you so that if your friend discloses a particularly embarrassing story, he'd squeeze you gently to reassure you that it's ok.

playlist

la vie en rose - edith piaf

brooklyn baby - lana del rey

ily - surf mesa

line without a hook - rick montgomery

young and beautiful - lana del rey

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your haikyuu boy issssssss... osamu miya!

this man not only loves your sweets, he's sweet on you too!! he definitely appreciates good treats and food, so if anyone is gonna appreciate your food, it's him (and yes atsumu will run in and grab like 5 of whatever you made and run off with em like a damn goblin).

he definitely is an ambivert, so he's alright with nights out or days in. that's why he's the perfect reading partner. you two can lie in bed and you can read a book and he can lie in between your thighs and read too.

he's not all that intellectual so he definitely will understand some of what is going on in museums, but don't worry, he won't point at the nude figures and giggle 'boobies', his brother will. never point out his lack of understanding or he will drag you to the museum bathroom and fuck your throat in a stall shamelessly.

he doesn't give a fuck if people overhear the wet slaps of his balls soaked in your spit slapping onto your chin, or the gagging sounds, let alone the gasps of air when he finally lets you breathe.

"say that again, why dontcha darlin? of course im not gonna letcha finish talkin."

and yes he will make you go out to the exibit with your makeup streaked down your face.

if he ever takes you out to dinner, he is a gentleman. he pulls out all the stops. he pulls your chair out, wear's a suit, pays of it, everything. if you ever try to say otherwise he always alway ALWAYS says "trust me, yer gonna make up for it later," and he always does.

he lays you down in the back of his car, pulls your panties off and shoves his aching cock into your sweet little cunt as he lets out huge sighs of relief. once he starts pistoning into you, and you let out small squeals from the stretch of his fat cock, he's shoving his fingers into your mouth.

his fingers are perfect. long, thick and heavy. perfect to rest on your tongue and to drool around while he fucks you full of his cum, heavy balls slapping against you.

(same playlist here!)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

again, thank you for your participation and support!! see ya around darlin!

[spectovrs]

so this is specifically dedicated to the amazing @sigyncevans cause shes in love with stevie and cause we wanted a crossover between verch x steve and ivonne x charles. so yea here you go, i hope you'll like it lmao

side note: before every part there's a title of a song that matches this part's vibe :D also, as you'll probably see, I'm a Swiftie and NBHD stan <3

warnings: mentions of war, canon level violence, some swears, apart of that none - pure fluff

word count:

hope you enjoy <3

I'M GONNA UPDATE THIS LATER THIS IS NOT THE WHOLE STORY

------------------------- "Paper rings"

"Verch, hey Verch wake up, the sun has already risen!"

"And what do you want me to do, photosynthesis?" Verch asked Steve who tried to wake her up

"Hey, you don't need to be aggressive" said Steve with a little smirk "I just want to eat breakfast with my beautiful girlfriend"

"As you should tho" she yawned "wait a second I'm coming"

Steve gave her this heart eyes look which always made her heart melt. He took a few steps back so she had more space to get up. He looked at her as she stretched her arms, grabbed a hoodie and made her bed. When she was done he took her hand and together they went downstairs to the kitchen.

"What do you wanna eat?" Steve asked

"Anything babe" Verch responded "you cook so good, everything you make is great" she added.

"Okay,, it's cereal then" he said

"Not very ambitious but I love it" she laughed "thanks Stevie"

"Really it's my pleasure" Steve chuckled and started preparing the food.

Verch brought the bowls and cereal while Steve was finding milk. Few minuted later they had everything finished. Together they sat at the table, chatting happily, appreciating the fact that they had each other. They both knew damn right that they were so lucky that they met and that they had someone to share everything with, to talk about everything, sometimes cry to. They loved each other, there was no doubt about that.

----------------------------- "London boy"

Charles opened his eyes slowly and blinked as the sun hit him right in the face. He moved his head and now he was facing her. Ivonne. She was still sleeping, breathing quietly, hugging him very thighly for a sleeping person. Suddenly she yawned and started blinking just like Charles did. She scrunched her nose a little.

"I love your cute nose scrunch" Charles said "it reminds me of Edith" /fyi Edith is a cat Charles and Ivonne adopted/

"Since when I'm compared to our cat Charlie?" Ivonne asked with overdramatic tone.

"Since we got her. You remember when we first saw her? She had exact same look on her face as you had" he laughed "still, I think you look adorable"

"Thanks I guess" she yawned again "I'm hungry" she added.

"This was so random darling" Charles put her hair behind her ear "but same, so maybe let's go and eat something"

"Good idea" she sat on the bed and rubbed her face "this sun is attacking me" she complained as she covered her eyes with her hand.

"You're right" Charles said and rolled out of bed. He immediately stood up, offered Ivonne his hand ("will you take my hand ma'am?") and dancing with her to the melody they together sang he guided her to the kitchen.

-------------------------- "Play with fire"

"So, did you like the movie?" Steve asked as they went out of the cinema.

"Yes of course! My favourite part was when all heroes went into the sunshine in the end. So emotional" Verch said, tearing up a little bit "If I was in a movie I would end it exact same way" she added.

Steve nodded and smiled at her softly. For some time they remained silent as they both imagined their perfect endings.

"You know what?" Verch asked "It's not about going to a certain place. It's about who you go there with" she stopped for a second. "In my perfect ending, I go into the sunshine with you and all our friends. We're all happy cause we know that we did everything we could to leave this world better than we arrived in it"

"It's a beautiful ending" Steve imagined it in his head "I would love it to be real" he added. "It can be real if we try hard enough" Verch smiled hopefully "I want to try Steve. For you, for all of us" "Me too darling, me too" he kissed her cheek gently "I love you Verch and I always will"

Suddenly they heard a high pitched sound, as if someone vey angry tried to tear all metal around them into pieces. Verch curled up in pain, covering her ears. Steve immediately pulled her closed and hugged her so the noise was less painful.

"What the hell is that?" Verch asked with pain in her voice

"I have no idea" Steve replied, at same time trying to find the source of sound. He looked up to the sky... and saw a man in a strange looking suit, long cape and a helmet who was floating in the air and basically... worked like a big magnet. All metal from the street, which was cars, phones, street lamps, wires etc were flying in this man's direction and creating some kind of field around him.

"Maybe we should do something about this?" Verch yelled as noise was getting louder.

"Yeah you're right" Steve yelled back "luckily I have my shield with me"

"Wait Stev-" Verch tried to warn him but he didn't hear her. Steve threw the shield at the man and yeah of course shield didn't come back cause.. it was metal.

"What the hell Steve, this man rules metal and you throw your METAL shield at him?!"

"Yes, maybe this was not the best idea" Steve said with a bit of shame in his voice "plan B then, run"

They both started running away from the metal ruler. There was noone here, all other people ran away much earlier. Suddenly they saw a white light before them. The light was growing fast and it formed a circle. It looked like a... portal. They stopped like 100 meters away from the circle. They saw a silhouette coming out of the portal. Woman, dark hair, blue eyes, something about 25 years, in a black suit with white stripes forming "X" on her chest. She looked serious yet her view had something comforting in it. She saw them standing and gestured to the portal.

"Come on Steve, take Verch to the portal" how did she know their names? "quick, it's mot safe for you here" she rushed them. Steve, still in shock, took Verch's hand and ran with her to the portal. Last thing they saw before portal closed was that the woman's hands were glowing just like Wanda's but not red. Left white and right black.

------------------------ "Little dark age"

They ran onto a lawn. Very big lawn to be honest. Somewhere in front of them they noticed huge, old-looking mansion.

"Where the hell are we?" Verch was a little scared " and how this girl knew our names, who was she and who was this magnet man?"

"Well, I can answer all your questions, if you let me" they heard a calm voice. They looked around to find the talking person but there was noone in their sight.

"Uhm, who are we talking to?" Steve asked also worried

"I'm Charles. Charles Xavier. And I'm sorry I am in your minds but I didn't know if I can fully trust you" said the voice.

"Wait- you're in our heads?" Verch asked now absolutely frightened

"I'm sorry, but I had to check" Charles replied "wait a minute, I'm already near to you" he added. As soon as he finished the sentence, they saw him walking down the lawn. Tall, blue eyed and dark haired just like the woman who they've met before. He stopped few meters away from them and looked at them for a second. Finally Steve asked the question both him and Verch wanted to ask.

"This woman who opened the portal... you know her?"

"Yes, her name is Ivonne. She sensed that you're in trouble and immediately got herself in the middle of a multidimensional hole. But, here she comes" Charles said and, in fact the portal opened again and woman, or Ivonne as they just learned, appeared again.

"And how did it go?" Charles asked her "what did you do with him? I hope you didn't kill him"

"Oh no, of course not, stupid" she said with a cocky smile "the Avengers showed up and bet his ass"

"The Avengers?" Steve and Verch gasped

"Yeah, the Avengers" Ivonne said "not that they introduced themselves" she winked at Charles and laughed

"Ivonne's a telepath, just like me" Charles explained "we can read people's minds"

"So this is how you knew our names right?" Verch turned to Ivonne

"Yep" the girl replied "I know, it's wasn't really good but I didn't have time to explain"

"It's okay" Verch chuckled "thank you for saving us tho" she added

"No problem and you're welcome" Ivonne smiled "and I love your hair Verch. It looks great"

"Thank you" Verch smiled at her "I love your suit"

"Now thank you" Ivonne smiled back "well, I guess you're hungry, maybe you want to come in and eat something?" she asked

"Great idea" Charles joined in "Verch, Steve what do you think?"

"Sounds great" Steve said

"Yeah same" Verch responded

"Okay, Ivonne, can you guide us?" Charles asked

"Of course, this way" Ivonne started walking to the mansion and the rest followed her.

--------------------- "Meet me at our spot"

"So, how did you know we're in trouble?" Verch asked when everyone finished eating.

"I'm not sure, but it's possible that something or someone broke the reality and that it's possible to travel between different universes" Ivonne said and Charles nodded

"We think someone was at the end of time and did something that consequented into forming a multiverse" Charles added.

"So this guy, this wielding metal one, was from different universe?" Steve was completely shocked

"Yes, specifically for OUR universe" Charles replied "his name is Erik, also known as Magneto. He is... was my friend. I don't think I know him anymore" Charles saddened "anyway, he probably didn't intentionally go into your verse. He just got himself into a hole between a parallel verse, which we found out to be your verse aka Avengers Verse. In shorter version we call it AVerse"

"Wait, so now everyone can travel between universes?" Verch was clearly very interested in the topic.

"Not everyone, just people with powers to bend reality, for example me, or people who just got themselves into a colliding verses like Erik" Ivonne answered.

"Wow.. this must be so cool to have powers like yours" Verch smiled sadly "I don't have any superpowers, I'm just... like everyone"

"No, you're definitely not like everyone" Charles tried to cheer her up.

"Yes, he's right" Steve hugged her "you're unusually intelligent, smart, charming... you're the one and only" he added

"I'm sure you have powers but just don't know it yet" Ivonne smiled "you'll figure it out someday. Maybe faster than you think"

"Thank you guys" Verch gave them a soft smile "but if you'll excuse me, can we go to sleep now? I'm horribly tired and I'd love to get some rest"

"Now that you say it I feel sleepy too" Ivonne yawned.

"Great, I'll show you a room" Charles stood up from the table "one bed or two?"

"One of course" Steve winked at Verch

"Oh I understand" Charles looked at Ivonne "we have same thing going on"

"Oh God, can you stop flexing with it" look on Ivonne's face told that this is not the first time she had to deal with this "he literally tells that to every single couple we meet. "Hi, I'm Charles and this is Ivonne, hey did you know she's my girlfriend? Oh well she is, yeah we sleep in the same bed" and it goes and goes and goes and it never ends"

Verch chuckled but Charles looked like someone just punched him in the face.

"I didn't know it bothers you that much darling" he said looking in Ivonne's eyes

"Well, no it doesn't, I just like messing with you" she gave him a filtry smile "alrighty then, Verch, Steve come on, I'm gonna show you your room"

"Goodnight" Charles said as they were going up the stairs. They said goobe to him too and followed Ivonne who was already upstairs. They walked through the corridor to its end and Ivonne opened the door before them.

"I hope you'll like the room" she pointed at door on the right side of the room "here's a bathroom, I think towels are already there, if you'll need anything just focus on it, Charles or I will hear you" she checked again if everything was on its place "goodnight and see you tomorrow"

"Bye" Verch said "sweet dreams"

Ivonne closed the door behind her. Verch went to the shower and Steve waited for her outside the bathroom. When she finished, she walked out so Steve could wash himself too. She jumped on the bed. It was very comfy and soft. She wrapped herself up into the blanket. She didn't even know when she fell asleep.

------------------------- "Don't blame me"

"We can't leave it like that Charles" Ivonne confronted him "waiting won't give us more time and you know it. Do you want our world to be taken over again?"

"No, I just think we should know more about the problem before we start doing something about it" his voice was calm but his eyes were saying different thing.

"We already know what the problem is: the multiverse" Ivonne bit her lip "we don't have time Charles. Erik went to AVerse, what if someone bad from AVerse will arrive in our world? Avengers don't have telepaths in their squad and we don't know how to fight their bad guys"

"You're right, but still, we don't know if the multiverse is actually the problem. Maybe we misunderstood something or maybe only the two verses collided. We don't know it and, till we will not be absolutely sure, it's not wise to take any actions. Also we don't know what caused the break of reality so we don't know how to patch it up"

"You're just scared" Ivonne let out a little snort "you're scared of doing anything about it"

"No, I'm scared about YOU doing anything about it" Charles looked her in the eyes

"Why? I think I can handle my powers, you yourself said it"

"It's not about your powers, I just... I just don't want you to be hurt" did his eyes fill with tears or was it just the light? "you suffered enough Vonnie. I don't want to see you in pain again"

Ivonne moved closed to him and hugged him delicately. "I don't want you to be hurt too Charles" she whispered "you mean everything to me, never forget that". She missed him softly and rest her head on his shoulder.

"I love you so much Vonnie"

------------------------ "Sweater weather"

Verch woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. She didn't remember everything but she saw light, felt pain and... she had some kind of powers? It was beautiful and terrifying at same time. She tried to calm her mind but she only stressed herself even more. She heard quiet knock on the door. They opened and Verch saw Ivonne standing on the corridor.

"Hey Verch" Ivonne said quietly trying not to wake up Steve "is everything okay? I heard your mind and I wanted to find out. You sounded very... terrified"

"I'm fine, totally, just had a nightmare. It's nothing really, I'm sorry I woke you up" Verch felt really bad for waking her up "I'm really fine" she added

"You sure about that? It's okay, I couldn't sleep anyway" Ivonne smiled calmly "if you want to talk, I'm here"

"Uhh it's just that.. this nightmare.. it felt so real. I felt pain, my pain, and saw light coming from me, and I'm scared cause I don't fucking know what that means"

"Do you need a hug? Sometimes it's the best way to help"

"Yeah thanks"

Ivonne walked to her and hugged her softly

"I can help you fall asleep if you need it"

"Do you think I really have superpowers?" Verch asked after some time.

"Yes, actually, now when you had this dream I'm sure about it" Ivonne hugged her a little thither "they will appear really soon in my opinion"

"Thanks Ivonne" Verch smiled "I could use your help going back too sleep if it's okay"

"Of course"

Verch watched her as she rised her right hand and touched her scalp. Her mind went blank and she fell asleep with no dreams.

------------------------- "Leaving tonight"

Next day, Verch and Steve woke up and went downstairs. They met Charles who clearly didn't sleep well, dark circles under his eyes told them everything.

"Woah, you look like you didn't sleep at all" Steve asked him, raising his brows.

"I didn't actually" Charles yawned "it was a very bad night. Ivonne didn't sleep too"

"Oh my god what happened, I hope it wasn't our fault" Verch really didn't want to be a problem.

"No of course not, it's just... our world is not perfect and... I don't know if I can tell you that actually. I have to ask her first, wait a second" Charles touched his head like Ivonne did when she came to help Verch. He looked like he's contacting someone without words. "Alright, she's okay with it. Well, I am from a family that loved me and stuff but Ivonne isn't. Her parents never accepted her powers and basically threw her out of the house. She was fifteen at the time. She used her powers to get food, water and have a place to sleep. She was still studying and decided to go to university. Oxford specifically. That's where I met her. She was very closed and didn't trust me at first but after some time she told me everything about her past and about her being a telepath. When I was assembling the team I asked her if she wanted to join. She said yes. She was mostly doing a spy job and she was really good at it. But once we lost contact with her. She was sent to New York to find a well known scientist, who we thought might be in danger. She arrived there but suddenly she disappeared. We tried everything to contact her again but her mind was gone too. I was so worried about her that I went to NY to find her. She was in fact captured by CIA and investigated. They asked her about our team but she didn't tell them anything so they became more brutal. I somehow managed to break her out but she already was totally terrified. She has photographic memory. She remembers every single detail of the investigation. How she was tortured and stuff. She has nightmares. Every single night. But sometimes, it's worse, like today. Panic attacks for sure. Its hard to calm her down and it takes me whole night sometimes"

"This is awful, how is she feeling now?" Verch and Steve felt sorry for her "is there any way to help her?"

"I'm afraid not" Charles smiled sadly "but thank you. Now, would you like to eat something?"

"Yeah, sure"

"Okay, come on, let's prepare breakfast"

-------------------- "Call it what you want"

It was afternoon, Steve was training with his shield in the garden (Ivonne gave it back to him after Avengers bet up Erik). He thought about everything: about the danger multiverse created, about how he was in parallel universe now, about how are Avengers doing without him and about... Verch. She seemed a lot more serious last days and he didn't know if it was because of everything they went through recently or because of something she didn't want to tell him. She clearly had a secret and Steve was okay with it, he just didn't want her to go through this alone. He loved her and wouldnt sleep well knowing he ignored her problems and didn't do something to help. He threw his shield again, it bounced off the trees and came back to him. He threw it harder. And harder and harder. He catched the shield and sat on the grass, covering his head in his hands.

"Steve?"

He immediately recognised this voice. Verch.

"You alright?" Verch asked again.

"Yes sweetheart, I'm fine. Just a little tired" he tried not to sound weird. He didn't want her to worry about him.

"Steve. Don't lie to me, I see something isn't right" Verch didn't let him trick her "you can tell me everything, you know it"

"I just worry about you Verchie. You are more serious now, you laugh less, you don't seem happy, I mean you don't have to be happy all the time but I just feel something is wrong"

Verch went silent for a few seconds. When she finally spoke her voice was shaking.

"I feel like I have a power inside me. It awakened some time ago. And it scares me. I don't know if I will control it, what if I hurt someone? I... don't know anymore who I really am. I don't know what these powers even are" her eyes filled with tears. Steve hugged her and stroked her hair softly as she cried in his arms.

"I'm afraid Steve, I don't want to hurt anyone"

"You won't sweetie and don't be afraid, I will always be here with you, I promise"

"Thank you Stevie"

"I love you Verchie"

--------------------------- "Best friend"

Verch didn't remember next few days well, it all blurred into fear, sleep, eating and wandering around the mansion. Ivonne was feeling better, Verch talked to her a lot, she was checking up on her very often which Ivonne appreciated. The two grew up closer, Verch started to think that she finally has a friend other than Steve. She couldn't call the Avengers her real friends cause they didn't talk much. She saw them sometimes when they were coming to her house to pick up Steve. They were all cool, dangerous and... had superpowers. Were better than average people. It scared her a bit and always made her feel a little anxious. Did she say everything right? Didn't she annoy any of them? Maybe they didn't like what she did or said and now she made new enemies? Steve always told her that they like her and that she did everything right but she didn't really believe him. One small part of her always doubted that.

So she really appreciated Ivonne. She felt like she had someone who doesn't judge her, who genuinely likes her and who won't turn their back on her once she disagrees with them. Ivonne felt same way but, as she had in her character, didn't tell Verch about that. Ivonne's one and only real friend, apart from Verch, was Charles. He always was there for her, understood her so well and never left her side. She always thought about him as a very good friend but deep inside she knew that he's something more. "Idiot in love" she called herself out one day.

Now, that she had Verch, she was damn sure that she finally has a best girl friend who will always stand with her.

And Verch thought same about her.

------------------------- "Flawless"

Charles called them all to his office telling them that they must think about a plan. So, the four was now sitting on comfy armchairs brainstorming how to end the multiverse. For now, noone had any ideas.

"My brain hurts" Steve complained "I'm not used to this much thinking about complicated stuff"

"Same" Ivonne rubbed her eyes "even tho I am a MSc in genetics"

"I need a break" Verch let her head fall on the back of her armchair "this shit is tiring, all these... dangers, oh my god they are just-" she yawned

"Yeah I think we need a break" Charles also seemed sleepy "wanna go outside or have a nap here?"

"Move Xavier, I'm coming" Ivonne stood up and three fast steps later she was on his lap.

"Steve, you move too" Verch followed her friend's example, sat down next to Steve and cuddled into him.

"I'll take as a "we wanna take a nap here"" Charles chuckled and started playing with Ivonne's hair.

Steve pulled Verch closer and watched her for a second as she fell asleep.

"How did you confess to Verch?" Charles suddenly asked him.

"What? Oh, I invited her to the cinema then we went to a tower, she loves night views from high places, and I just... told her. Kinda basic but I couldn't think of anything better to be honest. She liked me back so anything would work anyway. But there was also one situation, we were at the Avengers Tower at a party. We danced a lot and I told her that I love her for the first time and we kissed.. all Avengers saw it so it was kinda awkward" he laughed quietly "and you?"

"Well, it was more complicated" Charles chuckled again "Ivonne's a telepath so if she wanted to, she could've known the truth immediately. But I wanted to tell her myself and I did. It was in the middle of a battle, she was injured. I took her away from the battlefield, tried to cheer her up and it just... happened. She was first girl I ever kissed"

"Wow now that's elite" Steve couldn't help laughing a bit "what was your friends' reaction to you two dating?"

"Raven said she wasn't surprised, Hank said that he knew it all along, Erik didn't care, only Peter and Alex were totally shocked and didn't stop joking about it since then" Charles made a face that let Steve know that he doesn't like Peter and Alex's jokes "oh, and Logan said that it's really nice to hear that we're happy and stuff, only one normal person really"

"Well my friends were supportive, at least most of them. Nat was totally in heaven when I told her, she told me she shipped us from the beginning, Tony joked about it but he was genuinely happy for us, Clint said that he will take care of our kids when we have them, Vision as he has in habit, was VERY much like Tony but nicer, Thor said that he can arrange us a nice wedding in Asgard and Bruce... well Bruce was in shock but in a nice shock I mean he was happy but shocked"

"I would love to meet your friends"

"And I'd love to meet yours"

------------------------- "Softcore"

So, after some more talks they came out with a plan. It was simple: find The Avengers and maybe some X-Men and make a team out of that. They weren't sure if it will work and if anyone would be interested but they thought they should do it anyway. In worst case they would just end up alone and fight without any help.

They all started training, each one different. Steve trained with his shield, mostly ran around an obstacle course Ivonne made for him. Verch trained sword fighting as she was great in it and it was useful. Ivonne trained her powers in other obstacle course which also included using knifes. Charles just walked around the town trying to confuse people.

After two weeks they were ready. They suited up and walked out on the lawn.

"Alright, yall ready?" Ivonne asked them "I'm opening the portal"

They watched her as she moved her hands in some kind of circle and then pushed it forward. Portal opened.

"Welcome to the Avengers reality" she said with some fear in her voice "everyone remembers who they need to find?"

Everyone remembered so they went through the portal. They appeared in New York, near the Avengers Tower.

"Good luck" Verch said "see you soon"

Steve walked down the street to the Tower, Verch caught a bus to Louisiana, Ivonne quickly found out which way she should go and Charles turned back and went to the city centre.

------------------------- "Stargazing"

Steve was standing before the Tower. He took a deep breath and opened the door. He took a lift to highest floor. The lift stopped and he got out. He was home.

His best friends were here but who should he talk to first? Who would believe him? Sam was in his house, Bucky also was away and Scott... well he didn't know but he definitely was not here. Suddenly the idea flashed in his head. Thor! He would believe him if he wasn't in Asgard. Steve went to the living room, expecting at least one of his friends to be there. He was right but the person chilling on the sofa wasn't Thor.

"Steve! You're back" Clint shouted as he saw Steve coming "where have you been mate?!"

"Oh you wouldn't believe me" Steve hugged his friend "I was in alternate reality"

"For real?! Oh God this is amazing!" Clint looked now like a puppy whom you offered a walk "how does it look like, are the people nice, do I exist there, are there superheroes, is there McDonald-"

"Clint please don't ask me this much questions in one minute, my brain aches" Steve laughed "it's pretty much like ours, but there are no Avengers, their superheroes are called X-Men"

"Did you meet them?" Clints eyes shone like two stars from excitement

"Yes, to be honest I lived with two of them in one house for three weeks. They're really nice" Steve tried to calm Clint down

"What superpowers do they have?" Clint couldn't stop asking

"They're both telepaths but one has also powers pretty much like Wanda's"

"What are their names and can I meet them?"

"They are Charles and Ivonne and no, you cannot you HAVE TO. We need your help to patch the multiversal mess up"

"OH. MY. GOD IM GONNA TRAVEL TO ANOTHER UNIVERSE" Clint yelled so loud that he woke up Tony

"Why are you yelling Clint" Tony asked with a sleepy voice "Oh hey Steve, I thought you died"

"Hello Tony, no I'm not dead" Steve was not surprised with Tony's joke "Clint you tell him, I'm gonna find and informate the rest"

"Of course Cap" Clint saluted as Steve walked to the kitchen. Steve heard Clint happily explain everything to Tony and Tony sobbing cause he didn't understand anything from Clint's babbling.

"At least they didn't change" Steve whispered to himself.

---------------------------------

Verch got out of the bus and looked around. She was in Louisiana and she needed to find one person. From what Steve told her and she knew herself she figured out that she needs to go to the forest so she did. Few minutes later she walked onto a lawn. She saw a nice looking house and two kids playing outside of it.

"Hey boys" she smiled at them "can you tell me if Sam Wilson lives here?"

"Yup, he does" the taller one answered "should I ask him to come here?"

"Yes, thank you" Verch answered. Boys went to the house and she waited outside. After a minute Sam walked out of the house.

"Oh my, Verch! Hi its been a while" he smiled and hugged her "it's so nice to see you"

"Back at you Birdie" Verch hugged him back

"So what is going on? I know that you want something from me, what happened?"

"Multiverse. Steve, I and our new friends are assembling the team to fix the problem"

"Let me guess, your new friends are not from our world"

"How did you- okay nevermind. Yes they are, and they will help us a lot. When we get everyone from our universe we gonna find heroes from theirs"

"Who do you have for now?"

"Me, Steve, Clint for sure, maybe Nat and Bruce, Thor, Tony if he will not laugh at Steve and you"

"Nice team, what about Wanda and Vision?"

"We don't know where to find them. But we will ask Doctor Strange if he wants to join"

"Oh that's great, are you gonna ask Bucky? I personally think he would be very useful"

"Right, we have that covered tho. One of our new friends is going to ask him"

"Is he or she a good fighter? Just in case Bucky gets,, you know scared"

"She's a telepath"

"Well then I think she will handle him. Also, I'm in. I wanna be in the team"

"Thanks Sam"

------------------------------

Ivonne stopped before a bar. She felt persistence of Bucky Barnes inside it. Thanks to everything Steve told her about him, he was easy to find. But, she was a telepath so everyone was easy to find for her.

She entered the bar and quickly located Barnes. He was sitting in the darkest corner, alone. She took her chance and sat at other side of his table.

"What do you want" he asked her, his voice sounded a bit russian.

"I want your help, James" she used his first name cause she didn't know if she can call him Bucky.

"Wow I see youre informed" he sounded chill but she felt his thoughts - his head was flashing red lights

"Not to worry James, I'm not your enemy, i don't want to hurt you. I'm Ivonne Xavier, Steve Rogers sent me" she thought it won't be a good idea to reveal her powers till she won't fully trust him

"So that's how you knew my name" he finally raised his head and looked at her. His eyes were nearly same color to Charles'.

"Yeah. Stev- WE need your help. Multiverse emerged and we need everyone we can get help from to fix it. You are on the list"

"We? Who do you mean?"

"Me, Steve, Verch and my fiancé. Also the entire world and probably the whole multiverse"

"Wait.. you're not from our universe are you? No, don't answer, if you were you would've been recruited by the Avengers long time ago. You clearly have superpowers"

"How did you know?"

"When you entered the bar, door opened but you didn't use your arm for this. Yes, you raised your hand but none of your muscles moved when you opened the door. Small detail, I think noone spotted it except me"

"Wow you have nice sight. Anyway, do you wanna join our funky team?"

"Give me time to think about it" he thought about something for a second "come back in two hours. I'll tell you what I decided"

"Sure. See you in two hours then" she stood up and left with a thought that James is definitely hiding something, but she didn't know what. Yet.

----------------------------------

177A Bleeker Street. Charles read the address and looked at the building he had in front of him. He was at the right place. He knew it not only because the address was right but also because he sensed someone very powerful inside of the building. Probably Doctor Strange. Now he needed to convince Sorcerer Supreme to help him.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. He was in a big hall, before him there were huge stairs. He raised his hand to his head and "scanned" the area upstairs. Nothing.

"Well, you're a telepath. Nice gift" Charles heard a voice on his right. He moved around and saw a tall, dark haired man in a long, red cloak.

"You're Doctor Strange right? Steve Rogers sent me, we need your help"

"Yes, it's me. And what do you need help with? Multiverse, maybe?"

"Exactly. So you already know something about it"

"Yes, it is in fact a multiverse, and I suppose you are from a parallel universe, am I right?"

"You are. Anyway, would you help us fix the problem? You would help a lot, cause we don't know much about realities, universes and stuff like that"

"Let me think.. yeah I think I can help you. In fact, I was actually gonna start looking for a solution for the multiverse issue and I've already collected some clues"

"That's great! When do we start?"

-------------------------------

[bitletsanddrabbles]

WIP Wednesday

So apparently my brain has decided that Island of the Gays by @alex51324 is going to be my crack and chocolate for the rest of the year. Of course, this being my brain, it may well change my mind next week and go charging off in a different direction all together, but for now it’s pelting me with ideas, one or two of which have stuck.

This is a bitlet from the one I started today. While I normally try to keep Thomas ambiguously married to whoever-the-reader-pleases, for this one I needed his beau to have an identity. I went with Richard for plot reasons. He’s not in this snippet.

“Is that you, Mr. Barrow?”

Thomas paused, having just shut the door behind him. “It is. Good evening to you, Lord Hexham.”

“And to you as well,” the other man returned, crossing the remaining distance between them and drawing to a stop directly in front of Thomas. “I’d actually hoped to catch you before you left. Do you mind if I walk you home?”

“Not at all.” There was a time when he’d have been surprised at the other man seeking him out, particularly. However, Lord Hexham had learned long ago that when it came to the Beacon’s finances, it was best to approach Thomas or Richard first. Between the two of them they could normally talk Kit into seeing reason in relatively short order. Figuring that there was some budgeting issue, Thomas turned his feet toward home. “What’s on your mind?”

Lord Hexham fell into pace behind him. “I’ve a bit of a personal favor to ask, actually. Of you and Richard both.” He paused, then gave a little half laugh. “Dashed embarrassing, really, and I shall quite understand if you tell me to go soak my head.”

Thomas gave him a sideways glance. The poor lighting rather obscured his face, but his posture was a bit more withdrawn than normal. “I can’t imagine what you’d ask that would make me tell you that,” he said, quite honestly. The years had proven the other man to be quite kind and surprisingly conscientious, for a toff. Oh, he had all of the normal upper crust traits - no idea how things really worked, an impression that money could solve all ills, that sort of thing. However, once you pointed out to him the reality of a situation, he didn’t fuss, and he was more than willing to learn. They’d even shown him how to operate the printing press, in case he ever needed to know how. He hadn’t, but Thomas appreciated the show of willingness.

“Yes, well, hopefully we’re not about to find out.” There was a pause, a sigh, and the other man started his request. “You see, back in September I received word that my cousin is getting married. My favorite cousin, as it turns out.” He paused again and added, “That is to say the only cousin who is actually pleased to claim the relationship.”

Thomas understood that one. Allies, of any sort, were something the island prized above gold.

“At any rate, he invited Victor and I to come.”

“Both of you?” That was a surprise.

Even in the darkness, he could see hte other man’s smile. “Yes, well, you can see why he’s my favorite. At any rate, it was easy enough to say yes back then, but now that the date is drawing near, I confess, I’m growing nervous. I’ve not had much to do with the rest of the aristocracy since the war, you see, and when I have it was always in my territory, not theirs.”

Thomas could appreciate the problem. After five years on the island, the idea of going back to England and facing the real world head on was daunting. Mrs. Hughes had become a regular correspondent, to his surprise and pleasure, so he was still in touch with the realities of the mainland, beyond what was covered in the paper, but he was still quite content to live apart from it for the rest of his life, thank you. Come to think of it, Lady Edith was supposed to be getting married this month too. Perhaps he should send a card. “What is your cousin’s title, if I may ask?”

“Estate agent.” They were moving into the side streets now, so it was entirely too dark to see expressions, but the smile was still evident in Lord Hexham’s voice. “Oh, he’s my heir as well, but with luck he’ll If it weren’t for him keeping everything under control at home, I wouldn’t be able to avoid everyone else. So you see, I’m quite indebted to him and would be the worst sort of coward if I let the prospect of dealing with my peers scare me off.”

“I can see that, yes,” Thomas frowned. There was something that wasn’t adding up here. “But how many peers are going to be at the wedding of an estate agent, even if he is your heir?” And what on earth did it have to do with him?

“That’s the thing,” Lord Hexham continued, a tension in his voice that suggested they were drawing near the heart of the matter. “He’s marrying a bit above his station. Not too high, mind. The second daughter of an Earl. In fact, I’ve been told you know her. Lady Edith Crawley?”

The name caught him completely off balance. “Oh. Blimey. So that’s who she’s marrying, then?” Mrs. Hughes hadn’t given him many details, only that the wedding was to be the end of the year and from what she knew of the groom he was a nice, dependable young man. There had been some unpleasantness with Lady Mary back when they’d first become engaged, apparently, and the whole thing had been called off for a time, but now it was back on and everyone was scrambling like mad to be ready. That was all. He supposed that after Lady Sybil had run off with the chauffeur he shouldn’t be surprised by Lady Edith marrying an estate agent.

“It is. Which brings me to my request.” The other man took a deep breath and charged ahead, “You see, while I love Victor dearly and value his support in this, I would like to have as many people on my side in this as possible and preferably someone who knows the lay of the land, as it were.”

Uncertain he was actually hearing this, Thomas repressed a laugh. “You want me to come with you?”

“If you’re willing,” Lord Hexham confirmed. “And Mr. Ellis as well, of course. I had thought that, for the time we’re at Downton at least, the two of you might pose as our valets? Victor’s and mine? As I said, I understand that this is asking quite a lot and will not fault you if you tell me to go soak my head.”

#downton abbey #downton abbey fainfiction #island of the gays #gift fic #thomas barrow #peter pelham

[orionxcastillo]

full name: orion castillo nicknames: ori, conejito (”little bunny” in spanish) gender and pronouns: cis man, he / him. age: thirty-eight. date of birth: april 9, 1983. hometown: chelmsford, england. nationality: british born, cuban and american heritage. religion: catholic. sexual and romantic orientation: bisexual biromantic. occupation: antique store assistant. living arrangements: lives on his own. languages spoken: english, spanish. (accent is a mess of english, american, cuban) strange history: edith alby

TW: mental institution, domestic violence, attempted murder, mental instability

Orion’s mother left America to study mythology at a British university. It was there she met his father, also studying. The pair hit it off and eventually married, Orion wasn’t far behind.

The night Orion’s mother told his father they were having a baby she took him outside to star gaze, telling him the stories of the ancient Greeks above. He struggled to see what stars she was talking about, except for Orion’s belt - three stars perfectly lined up together. Just as they would be as a family. 

When he was born Orion cried like nothing would ever be okay in the world. The nurses and doctors worried, but found nothing medically wrong. It wasn’t until Orion’s father nursed him by the window, pointing out Orion’s belt to the newborn did he seem to finally calm. The new parents felt the name Orion was fitting, as if he picked it out himself.

Life growing up in the UK had its ups and downs. He didn’t look or sound like the rest of the kids around him - his father was first generation Cuban-British, his mother was American. Sometimes there were fights in the school grounds, or out, some days he just skipped class entirely. Sometimes that was to flirt with the local girls school as they walked by his returning from sports at the nearby oval. If anything he would have thought of his childhood relatively normal, expected even. He did well in class despite his absences, he participated in sports and made friends who would invite him over to watch the latest movie on VCR. It was normal, at least in that aspect of life.

Home life was getting more and more destructive as Orion moved into his teen years. His father was becoming known for outbursts, whether anger or from distress. His mother would pretend all was okay; he was just having a ‘tantrum’ or a ‘funny day’. It was normal! Everyone had trouble sometimes. But sometimes when he was alone with his father he could hear him talking to someone, when the room was empty. He would say something to his father and the man would seem to be in another world entirely, not hearing a word that left his mouth. 

Things got the worst when Orion was 15. His grandparents, his fathers parents, moved in. They used the excuse they were struggling with money, but they always seemed to have a wallet full of cash ready to go. He was starting to get pushed out of rooms, told to go study or sleep when he heard his father scream. They didn’t want him to see what was happening to the man. He was sick. Doctors were in and out of the house, sometimes they would help - for a few days the house would grow quiet. Then things would get bad again, and every time it seemed to be getting worse.

Orion spent a lot of time out of home, he would sleep at friends houses or wander the streets. It felt for a while there no one cared what happened to him, he was pushed out and forgotten. Most mothers would worry about their son being out all night, his mother didn’t even notice. She had a lot on her hands, he knows this now, but as a teenager sometimes you need that support.

Everything came to a breaking point when one night that he did happen to be home he was awoken by his mothers screams for help. He scrambled out of bed, launched through the house in nothing but his boxers, to find his father welding a knife trying to prove to everyone they were all dead. He doesn’t remember everything that follows, his mind protecting him from as much trauma as they can. All he knows is he put himself between his mother and the knife, tackling the man he had looked up to as a child.

Orion, his mother, and his father all ended up in hospital that night. His grandparents came home after a later dinner party in time before trauma turned to tragedy. Doctors submitted his father into the psych ward as his grip on reality slipped away completely. His mother would come to divorce his father, his grandparents taking care of the man moving him to a care facility where he remains today. His mother would take Orion across the sea to America where her family would welcome him.

Orion would struggle after what he went through, it wasn’t allowed to be talked about - his mother wanting to forget it ever happened. A fresh start, why would they dirty it up with what has been? She would go on to work at Pleasance library whilst Orion finished his education through home schooling. He was of age to get a job so filled his free time working small jobs around town, planning to build enough funds that at age 18 he would return home to England. 

Except he never did. Ask him today and Orion will probably shrug as to why not, honestly he doesn’t quite know. There was something about this town, he didn’t really feel like leaving. Ever. Strange, no? In his time in Pleasance Orion has made friends, had good and bad relationships, lived a typical life. He moved into his own flat, even bought himself a cat to keep him company. His mother eventually retired and calls in on him far too often but he humours her, knowing she never meant him harm. 

Over the years Orion has received letters from his family in England looking to update him on the state of his father but they go unanswered. Truthfully, he wishes they would stop, but part of him would appreciate that the line of contact always stayed open. It was just more annoying than welcoming when a letter showed up in his mailbox.

The last few years Orion has been working at For Keeps, the antique store. He likes working there because there is always something new in store, something he had never seen before or a story locked away inside. Orion liked to research the history behind them, filling his time with books at the library or fingers tapping away at the keyboard as he looks online for further information. It feeds his curiosity, making it always annoying when he hits a dead end.

Life was normal, well as normal as you can get in this town (it’s always been a bit strange). Except, well, there was the fact he was seeing dead people. Well, Orion isn’t completely sure they’re ghosts. It’s not everywhere nor is it all the time. He first noticed it around five years ago, or maybe it was longer than that. They would just be there, doing their thing, when a figure that didn’t belong would join him. The ‘ghost’s don’t talk to him, not really. Sometimes they utter a word or shake their head but it’s never enough to know what they want from him. Occasionally they move his things, or things around the store, or follow him around as if they were breathing down his neck. 

Orion would be more distressed over the idea of ghosts if it wasn’t a more comforting idea than what happened to his father. Ghosts meant he wasn’t insane, just haunted. That he could handle, they didn’t bother him enough for it to disrupt his life and sometimes the company was nice on a slow day. Of course he told literally no one of the things he was seeing, they would call him crazy and break his mothers heart. If she ever found out she would have him hospitalised and possibly end up there herself. 

Telling himself it was ghosts felt easier than the fact he was of the same age his father was when he lost touch with reality, that the things his father saw could be appearing in front of his own eyes. To turn into the man he left behind so long ago was his worst nightmare - he may not have an exciting life but he had one he longed to hold on to. So ghosts were easy to handle, for now at least. Trauma from his father? He’ll pass on that one, even if it meant his own health was a risk. 

Orion to his friends is just like his cat, he likes to find somewhere warm and settle. If he’s at the bar he’s in the corner booth with his drink, maybe a book in hand until company joins him. He likes to check out sometimes, go out to the lake with some camping gear and forget the worst exists. You’re lucky if he invites you along, he clearly doesn’t want to forget you.

Orion almost always is carrying a packet of cigarettes, a notebook or novel, a packet of gum and spare change. He walks most places so his car is collecting dust in its garage. He likes to cook for people, as long as you’re not a picky eater. He is often scribbling in his notebook, whether reminders or notes on something he’s researching, or poems no one is supposed to ever hear.

To most Orion is known as Ori, his parents are the only one who would call him conejito, which means ‘little bunny’.

OOC: 

My name is Jen but for less confusion you can call me J. I’m 27, live in Australia, and have been on Tumblr for like... over 10 years. Love me. 

He is open to all kinds of connections, I do not have a specific list so just hit me up to plots.

@phqextras

#domestic violence tw #mental institutions tw #attempted murder tw #mental instability tw

[bella-caecilia]

#21 for Cobert, please?

Thank you for the request ♥️ Somehow, it just happened when I started writing for this prompt, I included some light smut... I hope you like it. If you would rather have some fluff, feel free to make another request <3

21 - accidentally knocking your head into someone’s chin

Cora was reluctant to summon her lady’s maid to help her take off her hat, but this darned hat was intricately fastened with pins and Cora didn’t want to ruin her hair. She knew Robert was already waiting on the other side of the adjoining door. She was quite sure he was as impatient as she.

They’d been on a walk with the girls. Two-year-old Edith had been at Cora’s hand most of the time while Mary had bounced around them, babbling on end. It wasn’t the usual walk they took but with the girls they couldn’t walk that much. Little Edith was exhausted as soon as they rounded the first corner. Nevertheless, Cora and Robert enjoyed the activities with their girls. Violet disapproved of the extent in which Mary and Edith were allowed in their parents’ days. But they’d decided early in their career as parents to override Violet’s criticism.

Now Cora was eager to see her husband again, because on their walk he’d started something he had yet to continue.

When the distance to the house had been great enough, he’d sneaked his arm around her waist under her thin coat. His hand had pressed firmly against her corseted ribs, igniting a burning feeling in her belly. He’d continued to hold her close so that their hips brushed against each other with each step. Mary and Edith didn’t take any notice of their parents’ behaviour. Edith had been busy keeping up with the grown-ups and Mary had been focused on her narrative. Robert had whispered salacious things in Cora’s ear. She’d blushed and tried to hold back a giggle.

They’d agreed to meet in her room without delay. With an antsy wave of her hand Cora sent her maid away. When she was gone, Cora turned the knob of the door to Robert’s dressing room. As predicted, he already stood there with an expectant expression. He took a step towards her right away and encircled her tiny waist.

“There you are”, he placed his lips in the slope of her neck.

“Easy, easy!”, Cora chuckled and pressed her hands against his chest. She guided him backwards inside her room. Once she’d closed the door behind his back, she looped her arms around his neck and put her lips on his.

He responded eagerly. His lips worked fervently, demanding entrance immediately. Cora’s thighs hit the settee and she slumped backwards down onto it in surprise. Her mouth opened with an Oooh! and Robert took a chance to slip his tongue inside. Cora moaned in response and guided her hands down to grab his lapels. He lowered himself onto the settee too, hovering above her. She pulled more fervently on his jacket to gain as much access to his mouth as possible in the newly established nearness. Their ardent kisses and touches grew more heated. Robert’s fingers slipped beneath the annoying fabric of her dress to cup the soft skin of her shoulders. He pushed her into a lying position and straddled her hips. His lips travelled down her neck; his open-mouthed kisses left a wet trail. Cora let out warm puffs of air with a sigh. Her hands drew circles across his shoulder blades. Her heavy breathing gave him a rhythm to move down her chest with his kisses. His fingers tried desperately to uncover more and more of her velvety skin but the tight fit of her gown didn’t leave much leeway. With a deep inhale he drank in the warm scent of her milky bosom. Irritated by the boundaries the gown set, Robert popped up his head with a huff.

“Ouch!”, Cora exclaimed. His head had knocked into her chin. She rubbed the thumping spot.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear!”, Robert stuttered and he scratched the back of his head, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Of course, you didn’t”, she grinned while continuing to rub her chin, “you’re just a bit overzealous, my darling.”

She reached out with both hands to cup his cheeks, “Try it again!”

She pulled him closer and sealed his lips with hers. Their kiss was slower than everything that’d transpired between them since she’d opened his door. Their lips moved in tandem and their tongues started a harmonious dance as Cora opened her mouth to deepen the kiss. When Robert regained his serenity completely, he began pushing up her skirts. The mass of smooth material bunched in his hands. Nowadays, he didn’t struggle with the riddle of her many skirts anymore. Their passionate encounters in secret had become routine and Robert mastered her confining attire. His fingers slipped under the waistband of her knickers. He untied them.

Cora’s hands wandered to the buttons of his shirt under his jacket. She didn’t bother with his jacket first but casted it off together with his shirt, after it was unbuttoned entirely and the suspenders were loosened. While she shrugged off her knickers, Robert unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers. Before they knew it, all restricting layers of fabric had been removed, and that more skilful than could be expected after Robert’s prior goofy performance.

He caressed her thighs and pressed feather-light kisses to her cheek and jaw. Cora basked in the pleasurable sensations. She sighed as her eyes fell shut. Without thinking about it, she pinched his buttocks lightly, which spurred him on to make this whole experience as delightful as possible for his dear Cora. An ever-growing warmth spread from her lower abdomen through all parts of her body. When he finally entered her, he had to stifle her moan with his lips. He started moving above her and her thighs hold his body firmly between her legs. This encounter proofed as even more blissful as both had imagined on their walk.

#cobert drabble #cobert #cora crawley #robert crawley #downton abbey #downton abbey drabble #terrific fun

[sanemreid]

tehlikeli oyun. — self para.

( feat. the spawn of satan elliott langham )

After locking up the studio — which hadn’t happened until a good little while beyond actually closing up for the day from classes and lessons, not uncommon for her to be the last one out whether staying late because of business related things, or simply to take advantage of the serene atmosphere to work on routines. Tonight’s reasoning stemming from the former — she’d popped over to her previous home in Goldfinch to asses a few things before officially putting it on the market. Would there have been a better time in the day to do this ? Probably, however this week proved to be busy for a myriad of reasons, thus for her this so happened to be the best allotted free moment, at least just to do an initial sweep. Luckily enough too her sister was out of town for a job so it could really just be a quick pop in. Regardless if she didn’t have a current ETA on the when she'd have it up for sale, more than likely after the wedding, she still wanted to be sure in the case anything might’ve needed to get revamped, it could get done sooner rather than later. 

 Truthfully though the place was in fairly as peak condition as it’d ever been since she lived here, plus the youngest of the Bayrak clan seemed to have the same trait of immaculate upkeep. The basement was probably the only feature that may need attention, seeing as it’d remained partially unfinished this whole time. Making her way downstairs after grabbing a forgotten item from the move into the manor, the plan was to raid the kitchen before actually heading home, when a knock resonated through an otherwise steady silence, halted Sanem on the second to last step. Weird. She’d hadn’t expected anyone obviously, maybe it was one of Damla’s friends, but wouldn’t she have mentioned she’d be gone. Maybe it really was old Edith coming back to haunt her. Brows furrow with a slight perplexity before continuing her movements, this time towards the entrance, another knock came halfway.

Opening the door – not fully – she was first able to catch a glimpse of the figure opposite’s profile against the front light, more features coming into view as he turned. There’d been an indistinct familiarity that the dancer was now trying to rack her brain over, all the while as his own vision landed on her a grin spread over his features that unnervingly could only rival the Cheshire cat. ❝ Sanem, hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time, ❞ Beginning with a tone that was saturated with far too much pleasantry, especially in the way her name fell. He knew her and yet she didn’t or — did she ? ❝ Mind if I come in, it’s kind of cold standing out here. ❞ Words fly in one ear and out the other as she continued to search for how and where she possibly knew him. Then like the cogs of a machine did the wheels start slowly clicking things into place, it might’ve been almost a year ago, but deep within her memory did she place him, outside the courthouse when she’d waited for Allison after a case. When she first laid eyes upon none other than the ghost himself.

Elliott fucking Langham.

Second passes when the realization hits, that she’s immediately moving to slam the door in his face, but is stopped before it can happen, his hand catching and pushes it along with herself, essentially shoving his way inside. ❝ Now that was just rude, here I thought we could just have a little talk. Guess there’s no need for formal introductions either then. ❞

Fleetingly stunned; she stood her ground just a short distance from him, almost rigidly on guard, arms crossing tightly over her chest. Attempting to keep calm though that bubbling ire was igniting beneath her skin, while he appeared rather cool and collected. ❝ Not sure what we possibly have to talk about — not unless it’s how you decided to force your way in here, ❞ A pause as dark hues narrow. ❝ Or maybe, you wanna talk about how you’ve been stalking around, making ominous phone calls like some d-list movie villain. Otherwise I suggest you walk back out the door and all the way to whichever hole you slithered out from. Better yet, straight into the ocean, please do the world a favor. ❞

One corner of his mouth twitched upwards, as if he merely felt amusement in every syllable uttered, smugness radiating the atmosphere around them. ❝ They were certainly right about you — you know you should be a little more respectful to the people who are supposedly about to become family, in what, a couple weeks now is it. ❞ nonchalantly his eyes dart around the interior as he speaks, inspecting, or more probably scrutinizing. All she could do was scoff, no surprise in the slightest to hear Rachel and Christopher were in the mix in conjuncture to him. Contempt curls on his features briefly as his line of sight returns to her. ❝ You’re a smart girl.. well, enough that I’m sure you already know what, or who, we need to discuss. I’ve been very considerate with Allison, letting her have her fun with — whatever this is, but now my patience is starting to grow a little thin. ❞

Again she hears his voice but she doesn’t listen, at least not anything beyond her partners name rolling off his tongue, sending a bristling sensation down her spine as embers ignite into full flames behind her stare. If only looks could kill. ❝ Don’t you ever fucking say her name again, ❞ She spat venomously first, a warning while she took a step closer. It may not have been the best idea to create a smaller gap between them, but the more her emotional level steadily rose, the less better judgement crossed through her mind. ❝ Let me be as clear to you as I was to them, there is nothing for us to discuss, much less my fiancée. I don’t care what kind of plan you have cooked up, or how you think attaching yourself to Christopher and Rachel like a parasite is gonna help and I’m just assuming you’re here because they ran and told you how mean I was to them at the gala. You won’t be getting anywhere near her again, I’m sure you’re smart enough to understand that. But maybe not, I mean really how pathetic do you have to be to resort to playing these games— ❞ One by one the words cascaded away from her like lava towards his direction, hoping to slowly engulf and vaporize his existence. 

Perhaps if she hadn’t been so focused on that, she might’ve caught the shift in his demeanor, to an extent her proclamation was working, maybe too well. It happened in the flash, before she could even react to Elliott’s movements, one hand reached out easily to clasp around her neck. While she feebly attempted to pry his arm away, he kept firm, sending her backwards till she was pinned against the nearest wall, wincing a bit as the back of her head made a thud. Sanem could feel his palm pressing against her trachea, though not quite hard enough to cut the airflow. Glint of fear was overcast by a grim determination not to give him the satisfaction of seeing. ❝ Has anyone ever told you, you have too much of a smart mouth for your own good. It’s cute what you’re trying to do but it’s only making things more difficult, and that’s over now. You really think you and that little dance studio are good enough ? I know what’s best for her I can give her the life she deserves. Allison is just a little confused, and I’m simply here to remind her of that, how good it was before, how we loved each other. ❞ Possessively menacing did he spit back.

Snorted laugh involuntarily erupts from her throat, humorless – mostly at least, because was he being serious, did he not hear himself right now ? Judging from the expression though he certainly wasn’t expecting to garner that reaction. ❝ You really are warped, ❞ Retorting against a partly strained voice. ❝ That’s not love, you sadistic fuck, that’s control. Of course you don’t know the difference... all you ever did and keep doing is hurt her, but you won’t have that power over her anymore. She is so much stronger and better than you know.. threatening me is only gonna make her hate you more.. ❞

Now; if just stepping closer had been a terrible idea, then antagonizing him was surely an even worse call — made evident by his grip squeezing harder as soon as the last declaration left her mouth. Was he just desperate or truly unhinged, both seemed the most plausible. Sanem never considered herself a fighter, not in the physical sense, in fact anytime her fight or flight response kicked in it almost always veered towards the latter. Nor had never found herself in this sort of situation before. Though in the same vein, she wasn’t clueless or weak, and if that’s the assumption he’d been under, the it was one on the list of mistakes made coming here. Adrenaline rushed through her system, induced by a mixture of fear and fury, between the belittlement that came from him and the Hawthorne parents, but importantly the negligent grief they all imposed on Alli. 

There was a futile attempt to pry his hand away, so in a less than thought out, survival instinct way, she reached out to grab his face, digging her nails in, before wildly kicking out a leg that made contact with some part of his body. Less than graceful but worked to release her as he stumbled back with a harsh groan, gasping for a breath while in the process of commotion did her temple managed to clip against a shelf. Hissing and silently cursing her choice of décor momentarily. Glancing towards him with sharp intakes of air, hazardous ire still beamed off both, but including her tempestuous emotional state, it drove Sanem to ball a tight fist and strike it across his face. Did the connection send an ache through her hand, yes, but it was worth it still. ❝ Stay the fuck away from us ! ❞ Shouting at the top of raspy vocals before taking the opportunity had to go for her phone sitting in the living room. 

She’d fully expected him to be close behind, but managing to secure the device her line of sight peered up, frantically glancing around to find no one. Scrolling through the contacts, in the back of her mind ebbed the notion that she should call the lawyer — knowing she would have to tell her no matter what — but aware of the frenzy it’d only send her in at the moment. Instead tapping the next name to flash in her mind, who’d luckily lived in this very neighborhood now, Lily. Shakily putting the phone up to her ear, she took tentative steps back towards the entrance, Elliott, for all she’d been aware, was gone, leaving just an idly open door, and affrighted Sanem, in his wake.

#( self para. ) #/ translation: 'dangerous game' #choking tw #violence tw #/ *blurryeyes emoji intensifies* #/ it got a little longer than i anticipated #/ tbh if you wanna get to the good part just skip the first like 3 paragraphs lmfao