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techtalksfics · 4 months

Note

Omg so if this isn't your thing do say but like headcannons on how the dad batch would react to omega getting her period

Your wish is my command. This is a new one on me so I wanted to give it a go. Never tried writing on this topic before so I hope this is okay!

This is also weirdly long and I don't know why! Maybe I'm making up for lost writing time.

Also, as mentioned briefly in the piece, I have no idea what technology or support they actually have for periods in the Star Wars universe so it's a little vague on the what and focuses on the how they respond part.

Headcannon: Bad Batch & Omega - First Period

Warnings: mentions of periods (?), it's fairly squeamish free but if you don't like period talk for whatever reason, DNI.

Wrecker

Wrecker isn’t embarrassed by periods. He doesn’t think it’s odd to buy products for Omega or help her through this crisis.

He just panics. He panics quite a lot. Too many choices. Too many types. Too many issues to handle. It fries his precious brain a little.

When Omega first approaches Wrecker, he'll scratch the back of his neck in shock at the issue. But he'd look at her pleading little face and immediately fall into dad mode.

He'd be a chaotic combination of panic over what he needs to do to help and happy that Omega had asked him for help.

Before doing anything else, he'd make sure Omega was nice and comfortable in her little den on the Marauder. Sacrificing his Lula to her for cuddling. If she wanted, he'd even tuck her in to make sure she was comfortable.

But as much as he'd try to be comforting, Wrecker is still Wrecker. So he may be a little loud, accidentally drawing a tad too much attention to the situation. But we can all forgive him for that. He's trying his best.

He'd willingly go into the shops for supplies. He has no embarrassment about buying everything she needs. The problem he has is...what the hell does she need?

He's standing in the shop, taking up most of the aisle, trying to read all the boxes to try and understand why there are eight variations of each product and why there is more than one product she can use. And no Wrecker, reading it out loud won't make it make more sense.

If he can't figure it out, he'd comm Tech for support. As much as it would the blind leading the blind, at least Tech could research for Wrecker or logically make a decision for him.

Eventually he'd give in and just fill his arms with various products, hoping he'd picked something right for Omega. It would look like he's ransacking a scrapyard for parts; his arms full of various things that she may need.

He'd return with everything she could possibly need. Literally anything she could possibly need and probably a lot of things she'll never need or use.

When he'd returned, he'd check on her regularly, making sure she was okay and helping however he possibly can. Bounding around, fetching things for her.

Rest assured - Omega is well taken care of.

Lying in her little den, curled in a ball, Omega tries to deal with this new, horrid sensation. The pain in her stomach, even in her legs and head. Holding Lula close, she simply lies there trying to feel comfortable.

As she lies there, she sees Wrecker's large, worried head pop past the curtain of her den. He'd look as if he was experiencing everything she was and the panic in his eyes is evident. He scratches his neck and asks, "you've got everythin' ya need now right? I ain't gotta get you anythin' else? I can go back if ya need something else? You got Lula too right?"

Omega giggles slightly at the accidental panic she'd caused in Wrecker. She loves how concerned he gets for her.

"Yeah, Wrecker, you got everything I could possibly need." She replies softly, still cuddling into Lula as she tries to ignore the pain. When a satisfied Wrecker disappears from view, she whispers, "you got me everything I could possibly need for at least a year."

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

Tech

Much like Wrecker, Tech isn't embarrassed in helping Omega with problems. It's a simple matter of biology, completely natural; so why would he be embarrassed.

When Omega awkwardly approaches Tech about her period, Tech would initially be taken aback by the fact that she had chosen to approach him. He'd probably chalk it up to his analytical and scientific mind being the most approachable for a biological problem.

Naturally, Tech's form of dad mode is a little different than the others. He would quickly gather critical information on how to proceed. The little baby steps that he would need to know.

He would also question Omega, thoroughly, about what exact symptoms she was experiencing, about the flow and anything else he thought would be relevant.

Knowing that the immediate issue is, of course, going to be the sanitary products she would need. Tech would have no qualms about walking into a store and purchasing such things as, in his mind, this is all a matter of biology. So why would it matter that he is the one purchasing them? Although I imagine that, much like Wrecker, it would probably draw an eye or two.

He would pick specific products, strategically, based on the information that Omega provided. So unlike Wrecker, he would purchase precisely what was needed. He would probably also provide a very long (and embarrassing) run down on how exactly Omega needs to use the products.

He would make sure she had the things she needed for any pain and discomfort and would check in on her about her symptoms daily (and this would probably extend across the whole cycle until he had all the data he required to plan ahead on these matters).

In the following weeks, Tech would spend some of his free time researching everything he could on menstrual cycles and would start up an overly complex calendar tracking symptoms and the cycle to ensure that Omega is healthy. It's Tech's way of showing he cares, we all know this by now.

(Author's Note: Now, understandably, I have no idea what contraceptive and medical treatments would be available in the Star Wars universe so I'm avoiding the topic - but if it exists, I'm sure Tech would present these options to Omega, extensively).

Omega lies back, clutching the warm bottle to her stomach, watching Tech conduct research on periods. Occasionally rolling her eyes. She'd been rolling her eyes for the last twenty minutes. Tech was down his Tech-hole of research.

"Fascinating. A period could last anywhere from two to seven days." He says, still reading his screen, "we will need to keep a calendar to ensure that everything is healthy and ensure that there are no unnecessary problems."

"Tech -" Omega tries to interject. But unfortunately he keeps going.

"You will lose anywhere between 20 to 90ml of blood with each period so we will need to make sure that you have sufficient iron levels. I can monitor this quite easily with regular checks, of course."

"Tech -" Omega tries again.

"Then, of course, we will need to consider the side effects you may experience. Although you may not experience all of them. The list is quite extensive." He hasn't even noticed Omega trying to get him to stop. "Mood swings, bloating, stomach cramps, localised pain in the lower back and legs, acne or spotty skin -"

"TECH -" Omega's loud interjection causes Tech to jump slightly as he his eyes snap up to her. "I just need to go and lie down, okay?" Tech mutely nods and as Omega starts to walk away, she hears Tech quietly note, "certainly will be suffering mood swings when on her period."

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

Hunter

Hunter would be a little more embarrassed about the prospect of dealing with periods and talking about all things to do with the female body and bodily changes. However, as we all know, Hunter reigns as dad supreme so would overcome the internal issues he has pretty quickly.

When Omega approaches Hunter, he'd internally be thinking "oh please no, not this". But externally, he'd freeze for a moment or two before awkwardly agreeing to help her. After a little time to collect his thoughts, his dad mode would be fully on.

He'd ask her about her symptoms and would probably discreetly research menstrual cycles so that he could make sure to get everything and do everything she'd need. It would be more discreet than Tech and his scientific exercises towards the problem.

After making sure she was comfortable, probably with some pain management from Tech and something warm and comforting for her to lie with, he'd leave to get some supplies for her.

Now, whilst he is in dad mode, he would be far more conscious of what he was doing than Tech or Wrecker. He was a grown man with a face tattoo, shopping for feminine products. I doubt he would consider it his finest moment but he knew that Omega needed it and that was all the support he needed through this moment.

He would probably be extremely confused about why there were so many options and after reading several different kinds, he would probably settle for one box of each (a little less than Wrecker's chaotic approach) and made sure that they all clearly stated what you were supposed to do with them. Although he couldn't get through all the instructions on the tampon box. Sometimes some information should be considered too much information for him.

Whilst he may not be as diligent or scientific about the process, Hunter would help Omega learn to track her own symptoms and make sure she knows that she can come to him anytime she needs help, if she thinks something is wrong or if she's in pain because of her period.

His usual calm and relaxed, and slightly awkward in this scenario, approach to her period would keep Omega calm and happy. Hunter always comes through for her when needed.

"I, uh, checked" he clears his throat awkwardly, "all of the information on what to do with the, uh, product is on the box so just follow the instructions and you'll be fine. You sort yourself out kid." He gently puts a hand on her shoulder, "and I'll go and talk to Tech about pain relief we have."

Once Omega emerged from the fresher area on the Marauder, Hunter gave her a soft, fatherly smile as he got up from his seat beside Tech. He walks over and kneels in front of her. "You okay, kid?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Hunter."

"We've got your back, got it? Even you go through these, uh, changes." He clears his throat awkwardly again, scratching his jaw slightly.

When Omega hugs him and thanks him quietly, he's shocked for a moment. Surprised that him helping her with something so straightforward deserves a hug. But he snaps out of it and gives her a gentle hug back.

Another tender family moment checked off our list - just not the one we expected.

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

Echo

Okay so, now we're heading much further into awkward town. Echo, sweet baby Echo, would be incredibly empathetic and caring. He doesn't like to see Omega in pain. But also, periods, feminine body changes, hormones...not really Echo's favourite topic of conversation. But he'll still try.

When Omega approaches Echo, I feel like he'd freeze for a moment. Frozen with an internal scream. Or an internal groan. He was hoping not to be around when this issue first arises. His fault for being closest to the fresher when it happens.

But, next to Hunter, I feel like Echo has a strong dad mode and he likes to help Omega wherever he can. Whilst this wouldn't be his first choice of 'ways to help', he's happy that she's comfortable enough to come to him about this and not bypass him completely.

He'd probably bring Hunter or Tech into the conversation, hoping they'd have some wisdom about what to do. Collectively, they'd help her with any pain or emotional issues she's having, however, even knowing he'd hate it, he volunteers to go and pick up supplies for her.

He'd awkwardly enter the store, trying desperately not to draw anyone's attention. His entire being would just look and be so awkward in this scenario. He'd quickly look at the products and pick up the sturdiest stuff and maybe one or two middling range and settle for that.

If he lingers too long, and an employee approaches him asking if he'd like help, he'd flush entirely with embarrassment and maybe awkwardly ask which is best for a teenage girl. Quickly explaining it's for his younger sister. He'd take any advice they give gratefully but you can tell he wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He'd quickly leave the store and give Omega what she needs. After making sure she's in no pain and needs nothing else, he'd check in with Tech to see if there's anything else he needs to do. Obviously if Tech has become aware of the situation, Echo knows he'll already have researched absolutely everything.

This awkward little bean will try his absolute best.

"Uh, Echo?" Omega says timidly, as she exits the refresher. "I've got a problem." Echo spins quickly in his chair, looking at her with concern.

"What's wrong, kid?"

"I, uh, I have just started my period and I don't have anything for it." Echo freezes, his fear of the problem evident on his face. He quickly shakes it off and gives a curt nod.

"Alright, let me go talk to Hunter. See if we can't sort something out for you." He gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before walking over to Hunter to have the most awkward conversation he will surely ever have with the man.

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

Bonus: Crosshair

(I consider this a bonus one because we are yet to have a full family on the Marauder and I mostly wrote this because, honestly, I was giggling at the thought of Crosshair being approached about periods)

This will be an automatic call to arms for his brothers. He will not, I repeat not, deal with this. Not at all. For that reason, there shall only be a short snippet of how this would go.

When Omega exits the fresher, she looks around for Hunter or Echo. When she sees no one but Crosshair, not even Wrecker or Tech, on board, she sighs heavily and does an awkward shuffle over to Crosshair.

"Uh, Crosshair?" She says almost shyly. He knows it's going to be awkward, just by the way she approaches him. Her normal bubbly personality seems slightly dimmed.

"Yes, Omega?" He responds, his eyes narrowing slightly as he flips his toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other.

"I, uh, just started my period and I don't have anything for it." Omega can't bring herself to look at him as she says this. But when he says nothing for several seconds, she finally looks at him. It's the first time she's ever seen him wide-eyed.

Eventually, he responds curtly, "oh, definitely no, kid." He stands abruptly and shouts out the open door of the Marauder, "HUNTER! The kid needs your help!" He exits the shuttle without looking back, leaving Omega standing there dumbstruck.

#the bad batch #omega the bad batch #tech badbatch #hunter bad batch #wrecker bad batch #headcanons bb #headcanons #omega and hunter #omega and wrecker #omega and tech #omega and echo #echo bad batch #crosshair bad batch #crosshair tbb #crosshair and omega #request #taking requests

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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 1 year

Text

AAAALRIGHT

I am SO tired, my brain feels fried and I think i’m starting to have the beginnings of a headache but heck it this is the last ep until the special and my bros wanna watch it and i need a pick-me-up so LETS GO

I’ve been told i”m supposed to find a version with the theme song so lemme just YUP FOUND ONE

Okay okay Monkie Kid season 4 episode 10 The Jade Emperor TIIIMEEEEE

so given that people were insisting I find the theme song I assume there were some changes. My bro’s and I were talking about it and I think our guess was Azure had swapped with the Jade Emperor for evil villain bit of the theme, OH AND my youngest bro suggested ink stuff was replaced by azure and the bros so right at the end there its mk and the crew facing off against them instead of inky versions of themselves TIME TO SEE IF WE’RE RIGHT ABOUT EITHER OF THOSE THINGSGLKSDFJSDF

heck

I pressed play and ;-;

gosh

I missed this theme song so much

MY BELOVED MONKIE KID THEME

SEROTONIN AT ITS GREATEST

mk still got swk’s shadow right at the start so that’s not different

Okay mostly the same so far

I’m about to ry over the fact i haven’t heard the theme in so long LOOK MAN THE EPS ARE JUST NOT THE SAME IF YOU DON’T LISTEN TO THE THEME EVERY TWO EPS IT JUST DOENS’T HIT AS HARD

oh ;-;

Ao Lie

Beloved |;-;/

it he

ok so that bits different and I miss him every day so much i will cry right hecking now

KAY HANG ON I HAVEN’T WATCHED THE THEME SONG ENOUGH THIS SEASON I’VE ONLY SEEN IT TWICE AND MY BRAIN IS FUZZY RN I NEED A REVIEW OF WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE CAUSE IT LOOKS LIKE PIGSY AND SANDY ARE NOW IN THE BACKGROUND AS THEIR CHILLED OUT JTTW SELVES— YEAH OKAY I CHECKED AND YUP I LOVE THAT I WILL CRY

OOP

SKIPPED OUT ON THE AZURE LOOKING UP AT WUKONG

OKAY

YEAAAAHHHH THERE IT IS

AZURE REPLACING THE JADE EMPEROR AS THE SUPPOSED VILLIAN LIKE

NOW THAT YOU KNOW CONFIRMED HE’S THE VILLIAN OF THE SEASON HERE HE IS

TOOK UNTIL EP 10 FOR IT BUT Y’KNOW JLFJKSDF

WELL THAT’S FUN

everything about the same there

AHA

I KNEW IT

well technically i didn’t guess it this time my bros did but WHAT A CALL

WE WAS RIGHT

NICE THEME LOOKING SHARP EVERYBODY 10/10

also I think it’s illegal how Azure’s the new macaque in the sense you can just SEE the animation and the way he’s drawn makes him the favourite you can SEE it and its SO FUNNYGHSLK;FJSDF

OKAY OKAY HERE WE GO

HECK I’M EXCITED

stop

STOP NO

NOGNG;KLSNDFAWFBO;AIWNFEO;GOA;WEFOAMF

EXCUSE ME

WHAT IS THIS

WHATGBS;KFLMA;OWIGWEBFS;FMF

I’M

HEGFNFSD;MAWE WHEEZING

I’M CHOKINGBF;LKAM;OWAENGO;IAMF

DID MACAQUE MAKE THIS HISMELF?? THIS IS WHAT HE WANTED TO SHOW MK?? I’M ON THE FLOOR??

THE BADLY DRAWN ABS

THE ANIME EYES

THE EDGY HAIR

THE DORITO PHYSIC

IM GBB;ASDMFAOWIEFBF;KLMSDL;KASDF

THIS IS

THIS

HELPGMN;LASKFMASF

HE FR MADE HIS OWN GAME HUH

WHGHSDFKLJASDF

WHY

HOW

THE LOW QUALITY AUDIO

S IR ???

HIS EYEBROWS PLEASE;LKM;AOEWF

MK IS LITERALLY ME

WHAT AM I LOOKING AT RN

THE BLUSH???

HELP??

THE STARS AND SPARKLES;GMASFEW

I’M DYING;DSLKFMAWE F

MACAQUE’S FLAT EXPRESSION SITTING ON THE CHAIR

IT FR IS A LOW BUDGETHGS;LFJS HELPGJLSDFJSD

THE MONKEY ON MACAQUES HEAD I’MGNS;DLKFMWE

“on your joinery, you’ll see its the choices yOU make, that determine who you are” NICE ADVICE I’MGNSDLFKM

OH THIS IS EXCITING WE’RE FINALLY GONNA SEE A BIT OF MACAQUE TEACHING WHEN HE’S NOT TRYING TO STEAL POWERS, SO REAL ACTUAL TEACHING FROM HIM LETS GOOOO

heck

Mk ;-;

I CANTNGKSFMAOWEIF

“You know what— just play the game.” BRUHS REALLY “look kid, you’re a mess. just play the game.” ALSO I’M SORRY WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO DRAW MACAQUE THAT FLOOFY THERE

TAHT IS EXTRA FLOOFY MACAQUE

HE SOUNDS SO SMUG WHEN HE SAYS HE PUT A LOT OF WORK INTO THIS

I’MBG;SDKLFMAF

HE DID MAKE IT

MACAQUE MADE THIS HIMSELF I’M DYING;LSDKFMWEF

HE DREW HIMSELF LIKE THAT I CANTNGSKMDFAIEMF

“oh no yeah i can DEFINITELY see that” I’MGNSD;FMKSDF

OH OKAY

WHIPLASH THEN

GOING FROM MK AND MACAQUES INCREDIBLE VIDEO GAME TO FIGHT IN THE CELESTIAL REALM OKAY

UH UH OKAY UH

EVERYONE’S DOWN BUT NEZHA AND RED SON MAYBE?

I JUST WANT SOME FIRE FIGHT SCENES PLS

I feel like i need to go back and re-address whatever the heck is Macaque’s video game because mY GODS

Okay nah we’re in mid battle

AZURE IS WAY TOO HYPE WITH THIS SCROLL ON HIS SIDE HE CAN JUST SNIPE EVERYBODY WITHOUT MOVING

ALSO ARE THEY ALL GONNA GET SUCKED IN AND RUN INTO MONKEY KING?? THAT’D BE FUNNY

I KNOW HIS PIECE IS BROKEN I’M JUST HGSLJFSDF

“STAND YOUR GROUND” AS EVEYRONE’S RUNNIGNGNL;SKMFDS

(side-note did macaque make that game just for mk?? I’MGNSD;FKML)

OH HELLO WAIT

ARE WE GONNA GET A NEZHA REACTION??

PLS I BEG OF YOU

REACT TO

HECK YOU DIDN’T REACT TO THE SWK THING

NOOOOOOOOO

RED SOOOOOOONNNN

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

NEZHAAAAAA

SCREEAAAMSSS

HECK OKAY

IT KEEPS ZOOMING IN ON MONKEY KINGS BROKEN PIECE, BUT NOBODY HAS REACTED TO IT WHY KEEP ZOOMING IN SO MUCH IF NOBODY’S GONNA HECKING REACT YOU ARE KILLING ME HERE

why’s azure so op man JHG;LSDKJFSDF

HECK BRO THERE GOES RED SON

OH WOW HE WAS SCREAMING NO WHEN HE WENT IN THERE THAT’S WILD

HECK RIGHT THREE DIFFERENT THINGS TO VISIT

HECK WE’RE A MINUTE AND THIRTY SECONDS IN AND WE’VE ALREADY VISTED ALL THREE GROUPS HECK DANG

OKAY

hang on i need to go back to re-watch that bit i was too busy staring at SANDYBGDS;LKFMAWOEF

SHIFU PLEASE

HE’S ABSOLUTELY COVERED IN STARS I’M CRYINGSDFLK;MAE

AW I’M SO PROUD OF PIGSY HE HAS THREE

TANG HAS TWO HE’S DOING SO GOOD

I’M GUESSING MEI HAS NONE I’M JUST

OH THESE BELOVEDS

oh can Mei like sense something is happening?? LIKE WAIT THAT WAS GOLD CAN SHE FEEL EVEYR TIME MK FLICKERS?????

OH THAT’D BE SO NEAT WAIT

;-; no stars for Mei

OH WOW MEI READY TO FIGHT HIM HUH

I GET THE FEELING

SORRY I’M NARRATING NOTHIGN ELSE MY HEAD IS SO EMPTY

BUT LITERALLY I GET THE FEELING EVERY TIME SANDY OPENS HIS MOUTH HE GETS ANOTHER STAR I’M CRYINGNSDF;LKAM;FOWEF

MEI NOOOOOOO

I’M ALL FOR HELPIGN BUT NOOOOO

SHIFU ACTUALLY SEEMS TO KNOW A THING OR TWO COME BAAAACK

hm maybe she’ll figure out what he was trying to teach after they get the crap beaten out of them… I DUNNO GUESS WE’LL SEE

IT’D BE NEAT IF SHE HAS A MOMENT OF LIKE “now seemed like the right time for action” AND SAVED THE DAY MOMENT IN THE SPECIAL OR SOMETHIGN

HECK WELL ANYWAY MOVING ON

I’m telling you the star on Tang’s head? he got a headpat and that’s how it got thereHGLKSAJDF

oh OH IS MEI GONNA DO MACHINE MOMENT? :D

WHOAH WAIT WABG;LSDKFMAWE

WHAT

W HAT WAITGJLKDSF

HIS STARSGSL;DKFMWE

OUT OF GNSFMLSKF

HJELP

I THOUGHT IW AS GONNA BE MEI WAITBGSDFM;AFOMWEF

CHOKINGL;SKDFMSDF

FR JUST MADE SOMETHING OUT HIS STARSGSJLDF

YEAAAHHH SANDY STYLING SUNGLASSES

oh yeah that’ll be slow

OH???

OH TANG???

OH THEY’VE GOT THIS

THEY FR GOT SOME SKILL

OH YEAH NO BUT THEY’RE DEAD

HELPGMLSDFD

THANKS FOR THE VOTE OF CONFIDENCE SHIFU

LOVE YOU

ALSO I LOVE THEM ALL GETTING THEIR OUTFITS BACK ON AND MEI’S SIGH OF RELEIF AND COMFORT I’M ALL GOOD TOTALLY FINE

CALLING NEZHA DEMON CHILD YEAH OOF

HECK ARE THOSE FEATHERS??

HECK U AZURE

YOU AND YOUR SELF RIGHTEOUS “pLeAsE lIstEn I’m RiGhT” SHUT UR BLUE GUM BALL MOUTH

oh wow

heck bro Nezha sure is Nezha

its worth four more of that SURE IS A LINE

HE SURE AINT’ STOPPING

OH NO

HELPGMSDLFMSD

NEZHA’S JUST W HA T

MEI’S NARRATION

HELPGNMXLFKEM

STEPPED HIM IN TEH FACEGN;LSDKFMD

I’M WHEEZINGNS;DLFKMAWOEF

YEAH

GET HIIM ABCK

GET HIM BACK

YOU’RE NOT GONNA IN I JUST WANT AZURE’S HANDS OFF OF MONKEY KING

WHAT AN ENTERENCE THO HECK HOLD UP

PIGSY AND SANDY ACTUALLY BLOCKED THOSE GUYS HECK

THE ANNOUNCER VOICE

THE BLIMP

I’MGNSD;FKMSDF

PLEASE

MEI STANDING ON TOP OF IT LIKE THAT

HECK OKAY YES BACK TO

TANG HELPING NEZHA

SORRY MY BRIAN I SO SLOW AND IT FEELS LIKE THERE’S SO MUCH I’M MISSING COMMENTING ON GHDFLKJSDF

I’M SURE THEY’LL BE FINE

HELP THEM TAANG

NOOOOOOOOO

oh he stepped over it okay

i just don’t want him to touch it

HECK NEZHA

HECK BRUH

HE ACTUALLY MANAGED TO BLOCK THE SCROLL BITS THO THAT’S IMPRESSIVE CONSIDERING LITERALLY NO ONE HAS MANAGED TO DO THAT YET

MEI STEPPING ON AZURE’S FACE IS THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY MONTH THANK YOU

NOGHFKJLSDF

HELP

BACK TO MACAQUE’S GAMENGLSKDMFAOGNW;AFM

I’M CHOKING WHAT THE CRAPGBDFLK;MAOEBNOFAWEM

WHAT

HELPGMLKDFMAWE

WHAT KINDA

HELPGNSDLKFMAOWEF

I’M

HELPGNSLD;KFM;AOWEF

THE I HAVE A FAMILY MOMENT FR HGSDLKFJ;AOWIEFMSAF

THE EVIL MONKEY BACKGROUND?? YOU BECAME EVIL MOMENT?? HELP?? IS THIS SUPPSOED TO HELP THE LAD I’MGNSD;LFKMAOWEF

M A C A Q U E UGSDFSALDKFJ

I THINK I SEE WHAT HE’S DOING HERE LIKE, WATCH WHO YOU THINK IS THE VILLIAN BUT ALSO WHAT IS HAPPENIGN RN

whoever drew that evil mk there tho went OFF i’d like to shake their hand

MK FR LIKE

B R O

YOU SAID THIS WOULD HELP ME FEEL NOT LIKE A MONSTER AND IT IS LITERALLY TELLING ME I AM ONE OVER AND OVERBGKDSMFAWOE

PLEASE

MACAQUE MAN WHATCHU DOINGNGL;KDMFDS

HELPGN;SDKFMA;WOIEFBAWEM

HEYYYY UR FINALLY GETTING IT

I SEE WHAT HE’S DOING

BUT ALSO

ITS SO FREAKING FUNNY

AYYY ITS BEEN HOURS OF FEELING LIKE YOU’RE FAILING BUT THAT’S THE POINT, YOU’RE ALWAYS GONNA FAIL SO WHY CARE RIGHT? JUST DO YOUR BEST? IS THAT THE LESSON? I’M JUSTBGSD;KLFMAWEO

PLS

PLEEEAASSE

CONGRATS MACAQUE YOU WENT THROUGH MORE EFFORT THAN USUAL TO MAKE ME FEEL LIKE DIRTY DIRTY DIRT DIRT

THE APPLAUSE ON THE WAY OUT

I’M WHEEZINGSLDKFMD

Snarky mk is actually everything to me GO OFF MAN GET SOME OF THAT OUT YOU DESERVE THAT AFTER EVERYHTING MY GOODNESS

WHATS WITH THAT EYE ROLL MACAQUGBSDLKFMWEF

YOU CAN’T ROLL YOUR EYES AT HIM YOU’VE GASLIT, MANIPULATED, BETRAYED AND HARMED HIM OVER AND OVER YOU CAN’T BE ROLLING YOUR EYES WHEN HE DOESN’T IMMEDEATELY GET THAT YOU’RE ACTUALLY TRYING OT HELP THIS TIME WATCH YOSELF OLD MAN

HELPGHLSD;FJS;DAF

ALRIGHT MISERY KID

THE BANANA

MACAQUE PLEASEKLMGAEFW

they’re totally on flower fruit mountain chilling rn Macaque did you just move in to Monkey Kings place i’mGN;LAWKMEF

“you’re SUPPOSED to realize”

kind of a weird convoluted way to make a point don’t you think? I’MGNL;DSKMFAOWF

YEAH YOU GOT A POINT

this is so funny

The way they’re writing macaque rn feels like older brother vibes, y’know what i mean? I’m not saying i assign him older brother moment it’s just the way its kay well you didn’t learn it yourself here’s the answer do better sheesh why so grumpy like, mildly annoyed at him because he’s rolling his eyes at a very traumatized lad who he helped truamatize but its neat a very interesting approach they’r going for here

and if i had enough brain rn, i’d be like trying to analyze more of how Macaque teaches but he seems a bit impatient, but at the same time its nice that he’s giving the answer? but also the answer often sticks better when the student figures it out on their own, still, BRUH REALLY MADE MK FEEL LIEK A TERRIBLE PERSON FOR A COUPLE HOURS HUH IG THAT’S ONE WAY TO DO IT MACAQUE PLEASELGMASOFEW

HELLO?????

THE ART ON THE ROCK???

HELP???

I’M???

WHEBG;KMF;AOWEFO;IAGMEWF

WELL THAT’S CUTE THAT ALSO TELLS ME MONKEY KINGS AN INCREDIBLE ARTIST AND HE DID INDEED MAKE HIS OWN GAME HE DREW ALL THAT Y’ALL IF MACAQUE DREW HIS AND THAT’S HIS ARTSTYLE THAN I STRAIGHT UP THINK MONKEY KING ACTUALLY MADE ALL HIS THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY ACTUALLY I LOVE TAHT HE’S GOT A CREATIVE OUTLET IF THAT’S THE CASE BLESS

you don’t wanna fight azure because people might get hurt, you don’t wanna not fight azure because people might get hurt, so DO SOMETHING ELSE

ALSO ITS SUCH A SILLY FRIEND MOMENT TO DRAW YOURSELVES ON A ROCK HANGING OUT I’MGNSFL;KMSDF

actually mans got a fair point

think outside the box other people drew around you moment

good advice!

not sure what else he can do other than fight but i’m looking forward to finding out!!

HECK I’M ONLY JUST OVER HALFWAY DONE I FEEL LIKE I’VE BEEN HERE FOR HOURS PLEASEL;KGMAOFE

THIS SHOW AGES ME YOU GUYSGBDF;LKMSDF

I LOVE IT BUT HECK DUDE

okay so the flickering at the start with Mei was the celestial realm battle and not Mk, gotcha gotcha

the way they draw Mk this season is just ;-; heck bro

yeah tho Mk’s so afraid of doing something wrong and being assigned a thing its only you can decide what you are. WELL, Macaque, as you can see that worked out great for Monkey king- jHGL;SKDJFASDF ACTUALLY NAH UYEAH I’M THINKING ABOUT THAT, CAUSE HE’S TRYING SO HARD TO DECIDE WHO HE IS AND NOTHIGN HE DOES EVER GOES RIGHT BY THE LOOKS OF IT I’M JUST HECK BRUH might not be as good advice as i’m assuming here actually especially if Mk gets treated anything like monkey king, SORRY BRAIN FUZZY I DN’T KNOW HALF OF WHAT I’M SAYING RN MOVINH ON

OKAY BACK TO THE BATTLE

WHO’S ALL GETTING SNIPED

heck the “he cannot” MAN

THEYR’E ALL TRYING

mei looks pretty fine actually

NEZHA FR JUST DOING HIS BESTNGKMF

OH CRY

I WILL CRY

I SOB MOMEMNT

OH OH OH OKAY PAUSE TIME OUT TAP OUT WIAT WAIT

PAUSE

I NEED TO WAIT WAI T WAITBSEMKAW

STIM FOR A SEC

SHAKING

POKAY

OKAY

THAT WHOLE DIOLOGUE EXCHANGE WITH NEZHA DEFENDING THE EMPEROR IS SO GOOD

HECK

HECK HECK

OKAY

THINKING

OKAY STAY CALM

MK TIME

HE’S SO FAST

I’M GONNA SCREAM

IS THAT MK????? ?

BECAUSE DANG

DANG

DANG BRUH

YEAAHHHNSDFK

OH I’M SCREAMING

OHHHH AZURE GOT SONIC ROAR MOMENT

SCREAMIGN FR THE CLOUD

HE SNATCHE CLOUD OH MY GODS

OH HE’S STILL FLICKERING

JUST GO FULL MONKEY MK

“even you” WHY DOES HE

heck this is like mac all over again but slightly to the left SIR WDYM EVEN YOU HE’S JUST SOME KID HOW’D YOU GET ATTTATCHED TO HIM SO FAST-

oh actually nah i get it it’s mk he’s very wonderful and you can’t help but like him immediately i get it please continue

NOT HERE TO FIGHT YOU AFTER YOU PUNCHED HIM LIKE THREE TIMESMGLSDKFAWEF

COME ON AZURE I’MGNL;DFKMA

WHEEZING

HE ALWAYS LOOKS SO DEVESTAED THIS LION GUY

WON’T STOP HIM THO

HE’S IN THE RIGHT AFTER ALL

kay

relaaax i can be relaxed and calm

HECK BRO

WHO DREW THAT AZURE YOU KNOW THE ONE

MESSY HAIR LIKE THAT SCRUFFY LOOKING WHO’S RESPONCIBLE FOR THISNGSL;KMFAWOEF

OKAY YEAH NICE THROW LIFE AWAY MOMENT

HECK MR.TANG MK HOW DOES HE KONW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT NEZHA ARE YOU ALL BEING TRANSPORTED AWAY WHATS THE PLAN HERE YOU CAN’T JUST DIP CAN YOU??

BIG BOOM SWORD

HECK CRACKED OPEN

AZURE LITERALLY BLASTED HIS BROS BACK

WELL THEY’RE ON THEIR FEET NOW

O H

OH THEY MADE IT???

IS THE JADE EMPEROR ACTUALLY GONNA GET SNIPED??

they can’t do that can they??

WELP

I’m sorry

Azure right there “I do not care by which means you meet your demise old man” HE SOUNDS LIKE AN EDGY RUNAWAY TEEN?? I’M SORRY HE SOUNDS LIKE THE EDGY TEENAGER WHO STORMED OUT ON THE PARENT AFTER A FIGHT STRAIGHT UP GHBDSFAKMFEW

HOOOLY CRAP

WHAT IS THAT

WHAT’S WITH THE

LOOK HOW TERRIFED PENG AND YELLOWTUSK ARE

HECK ???

ppppppfffooo

w o w

THE JADE EMPEROR

DANG

THAT WAS

D A NG

WOW THAT EXCHANGE WAS SOMETHING

THE MAN

BRU H

THE WAY EVERYHTIG SHOOK WHEN HE TOOK HIS SWORD OUT

WOW THAT WAS WILDIN

HECK BRO

HECK

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEYR’E GONNA DO WITH ALL THIS

AWWW MAC HANGING OUT WITH THE MONKEEEYYYY

that’s cute good for you man, you moved in to Flower Fruit mountain fr HGLSDK;FJ

OKAY NEZHA’S PROBABLY GONNA BE MAD

GROUP HUG

I’M WILL CRY

INSTANTLY

NO HESITATION

HE IS SCOOPED

HE LOOKS SO STARTLED

PLS PIGSY IS SO SQUISHED

SHUT UP

SHUTUPSUTGNFKWEM

I’M

S O N

HE SAID THE THING I’M GOING TO CRY

HE CALLED HIM SON

MK JUST

CRYING TO SEE HIS SON

SMILIGN

HECK

I’M NEVER OKAY

I’M NOT OKAY

THE FIRST THING PIGSY DOES WHEN HE SEES HIM AGAIN AND HAS A MOMENT IS CALL HIM SON THE FIRST THING HE DOES IS CALL HIM SON YOU GUYS I AM MENTALLY UNWELL

HE FR DIDNT’ GET A CHANCE TO SAY IT WHEN HE JUST DIPPED AND JUST HECK HE’S PROBABLY BEEN THINKING ABOUT THAT

Y’ALL ITS DADSY FOR THE WIN AND NOBODY ELSE

OH YUP NEZHA MAD

ITS OKAY MAN MK DOES HAVE A POINT

YOU WOUDL HAVE JUST DIED AND WE ALL WOULD HAVE BEEN SAD

OKAY

BE CALM BE COOL BE CHILL

MONKEY KING MOMENT

PLEASE OKAY SO EPS ALMOST OVER THEY ENED TO GET INTO THE SCROLL AND GET MONKEY KING

HECK

HECK THEY MIGHT AHVE TO HYP[E HIM UP I’LL BE HE’S FEELING AWFUL

ECK HOW ARE THEY GONNA GET HIM OUT

HECK HECK EHCK

MONKEY KIIIIINGGG

CRIES SOBS

WOW HE’S NOT DEFEATED WITH ONE BLOW IS HE???

BRUH???

OH COME ON

OH WOW

EVERYBODY FELT THAT ONE

OH WOW

AZURE GETS?? POWERS???

DANG??????

CRACK IN THE PLACE

WHAT THE CRAP I SALL THIS

WOW

BRUH FR WENT FOR THAT MUCH CLEAVAGE HUH

THEY FR JUST KILLED THE JADE EMPEROR???

DID NOT SEE THAT COMING

U H

WELL

MONKEY KING GO GET HIM

I AM

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GIVE ME SOME MONKEY KING THOUGHTS

LIKE PLEASE HAVE THEM NEEDING TO TALK HIM INTO DOING IT BCAUSE HE’S SO CRUSHED RN PLEASE I NEED TO HEAR FROM MONKEY KING HOW HE’S DOING SO HE STOPS BEING MADE INTO A MASTER WU TYPE CHARACTER WHO’S JUST THE MENTOR WHO KEEPS MKAING THIGNS WORSE I JUST NEED YOU TO SHOW AND NOT TELL US ON SOCIAL MEDIA WHAT HE IS SO THAT I CAN ACTUALLY SEE IT BECAUSE IT IS DOING A NUMBER ON ME AS A MONKEY KING ENJOYER TO HAVE HIM BASHED SO MUCH P L E A SE

also WHO’S GONNA BE THE NEXT JADE EMPEROR AFTER THEY DEFEAT AZURE?? MK??? MONKEY KING??? NEZHA??? LIKE?? WHATS THEIR PLAN HERE????

THEY FR JUST SNIPED EVERYHTING HUH

WELL DONE WITH THE WHOLE GOTTA PICK OPTOINS OUTSIDE THE BOX BECAUSE LITERALLY I AHVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY’RE GONNA DO NEXT HECK

YOU BETTER GIVE ME A HYPE UP MONKEY KING MOMENT PLEASE I BEG OF YOU I NEED HIM SHOWN AS AN ABSOLUTELY SHATTERED MAN COME O N

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BRAIN AFTER THIS????????

HOW DID AZURE BEAT HIM IN ONE HIT???

WHAT IS HAPPENING??????

Heck bro okay

WELP

I’M CAUGHT UP NOW

IG YOU’LL BE SEEING MORE OF ME POSSIBLY NOW THAT I AM

MAYBE NOT I’M SO DRAINED FROM FAMILY STUFF THAT’S BEEN HAPPENING BUT MY G O D S

WHAT WAS THAT ??? ???? ?? ? ?? ? ? ?? ?

WHAT WAS THATBGSDLFKMAOWEF

ARE THEY LIKE?? ALLOWED TO KILL THE JADE EMPEROR OFF LIKE THAT??? IMPORTANT RELIGIOUS FIGURE JUST SNIPED??? MONKIE KID????? IS THAT ALLOWED??????

ARE THEY GONNA BRING HIM BACK???

U H?????

OKAY WELL

I DUNNO WHAT THAT WAS

I ENJOYED IT?? I THINK?? MY MIND IS ALL OVER THE PLACE RN ITS HARD TO TELL

I WANNA SEE MORE MONKEY MK

MK ON THE CLOUD I DIDN’T APPRECIATE THAT ENOUGH EHCK

WE DIDN’T GET ANYONE TO REALLY REACT TO MONKEY KING BEING HECK

H E C K

|;A;/

I DUNNO WHATS HAPPENIGN ANYMROE AND I’NM NTO SURE WHAT TO FEEL

U H

EVERYTHING IS FINE

HOW ARE THEY GONNA FIX ALL THIS IN THE SPECIAL???

HEY I HAVE FAITH IN THE CREW, THEY CAN CRAM A SUTPID AMOUNT OF STUFF IN AN EP SO I HAVE NO DOUBT THEY’RE GONNA NAIL THIS I’M JUST

HOW ARE THEY GONNA MANAGE THIS??

AND WILL THEY EVEN MANAGE IT?? CAUSE I DUNNO WHERE THEIR FOCUS IS HECK EHCK BSD;FKMWE

THOUGHTS SCATTERED, HEAD EMPTY I’M GONNA NEED TWO DAYS TO RECOVER WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT KNOX OUT

#knox reacts #monkie kid #ITS BEEN MONTHS SO NO MORE TAGGING AS SPOILERS AND I WILL PROBABLY BE POSTING STUFF A BIT LATER U H #HECK GUESS I'M CAUGHT UP AND I'M NOT SURE HOW I FEELGBDFKMSD;F #MY BRAIN IS SO SCATTERED RN WHAT THE HECK #OKAY UH #YUP

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maybeimamuppet · 2 years

Note

🍽

🍽-dinner date

tw for threats and unhealthy relationships

Cady sighs into her iced tea, using the straw to push the half-melted cubes around the glass. Aaron asked her out for yet another apology dinner, and was late yet again.

She’s been sitting in her booth in their usual dinky little diner for a full hour. Not a call, not a text, nothing. Nada. Zip.

She’s about to ask for the bill for the two cups of tea she’s had and leave when someone suddenly slides into the seat across from her. “I’m so sorry, babe, I got caught up at work, and then my phone died, and it was just a whole thing.”

Cady looks up in shock, finding a tall lady with half dark half blonde hair and shocking brown eyes sitting across from her. She’s about to open her mouth to question this stranger when the lady leans in.

“Just go with it, for tonight, yeah? You’ll never have to see me again if you don’t want to,” she whispers.

Cady nods, biting her lip slightly as this actually very attractive woman is so close to her face. She has heavy makeup on around her eyes, and deep purple lipstick. Cady is very intrigued, to say the least.

“I’m Janis,” the woman continues, settling back in her seat a bit. She flags down a waiter to order a coffee, even though it’s almost eleven at night, and looks to Cady to see what she wants off the menu. “My treat.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Cady says sheepishly. She doesn’t even know this woman.

“I know,” Janis smirks. “Get whatever you want, it’s not a problem.”

Cady blushes and orders the chicken tenders with french fries, sinking into herself slightly when Janis grins at her. Janis orders a cheeseburger for herself, and then they’re left alone once again.

“Chicken tenders, huh?” Janis says. “Solid choice.”

“They’re safe everywhere, I don’t eat here very often,” Cady defends.

“I’m not judging, red.”

“Red?”

Janis smoothly reaches across the table to gently tug on one of Cady’s curls. Cady’s red curls.

“Oh.”

“I’d call you by your name if I knew it,” Janis replies, with that infuriatingly smug but also unfairly adorable lopsided smirk.

“I’m Cady,” Cady says. “Why did you-“

“I hate to see a beautiful woman sitting alone,” Janis replies. “Figured I’d offer my company.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Janis nods. “Were you expecting another answer?”

“Kinda,” Cady says. “You seem… um… dark.”

“I’m not a vampire, promise,” Janis chuckles. “I’ve found dressing like this tends to keep unwanted attention away, most of the time. Get the occasional kid trying to rub my tattoos off, but they’re okay.”

Cady nods with a hum. So she’s wanted attention. She might as well go along with this. “That makes sense. So, um… what do you do?”

“I’m a starving artist,” Janis replies, a hint of something solemn in her tone. “I paint and do the occasional drawing. Commissions, and I sell my own pieces at art shows and stuff. But I spend most of it mooching off my best friend.”

“You’re not-“

“Not this time,” Janis grins knowingly. “I just came from a show, I have a bit to spare. Why not spend it on a beautiful lady?”

“You should save your money,” Cady chides gently. “You don’t have to spend it on me.”

“I want to,” Janis says again. “What about you?”

“Hm? Oh,” Cady says. “I’m a math professor, I teach advanced calculus at the university of Illinois.”

“Damn,” Janis says, looking impressed. “You got brain cells.”

“A few,” Cady laughs. “But I have fun with it.”

“That’s good,” Janis says. “Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who enjoys math before.”

“I’m happy to be the first,” Cady grins.

They continue chatting and making small talk throughout their meal, during which Janis sneaks a few of Cady’s fries with a smirk and Cady steals a bite of her burger when she’s not looking.

She doesn’t even notice her phone blowing up.

—-

“Thank you,” Cady says once Janis has paid their tab and escorted her to her car in the parking lot. “I needed that.”

“Happy to,” Janis replies. “I had a nice time.”

“I did too,” Cady says with a shy grin.

“Cady!”

They both whirl around to see Aaron, running up towards them. Janis looks at her with a cocked eyebrow.

“Aaron,” Cady says coldly. “Nice of you to make it.”

“Babe, come on,” Aaron sighs. “You know I-“

“I know I waited in that diner alone for an hour without so much as a text from you,” Cady huffs. “And now you’re here three hours late.”

“That’s bullshit! I texted-“

“Hey, man,” Janis says, putting herself in between both of them. “Cool off.”

“Who the fuck are you?!” Aaron gripes, trying to shove her out of the way to continue talking to Cady. Janis is taller than him, and apparently stronger, since she stops him with a single arm against his chest.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Janis continues, taking slow steps away to give Cady room and keep her safe. “What does matter is the way you’re talking to her. You can either chill out and be rational or fuck off. She’s been plenty polite. You do the same.”

“Cady, babe, come on,” Aaron pleads.

“I’m sick of your shit, Aaron,” Cady huffs. “This is the fifth time this month you’ve stood me up. This was supposed to be your apology for the others, and you can’t even give me that much.”

“Babe-“

“We’re done, Aaron,” Cady says. “I deserve better.”

“You can’t do this!” Aaron yells.

“She just did,” Janis says lowly. “Now I suggest you leave before I stick these chicken tenders where the sun don’t shine.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” Aaron spits, stalking away in a huff. Janis chuckles and returns to Cady.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Cady nods. “He was sweet when we were in high school. But… I knew I had to do this soon. Just got a kick of confidence tonight.”

“I’m glad,” Janis says. “You good to get home?”

“Yeah,” Cady says again. “Thank you, again. Tonight was great.”

“It was. I’m glad you didn’t think I was a murderer,” Janis chuckles.

“I’m still not sure,” Cady jokes. Janis offers her food that she had carried out for her. Cady trades it for a napkin with her number on it and presses up to kiss Janis on the cheek. “Call me.”

Janis is still blushing like a fool when Cady pulls out of the parking lot.

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls the musical #mean girls broadway #mean girls on broadway

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mae-gi-writes · 3 years

Text

Yūgen | Sunwoo (The Boyz)

Yugen (n.) a profound, mysterious sense of the beauty of the universe that triggers a deep, emotional response.

Requested by anon! In which Sunwoo, the ace of the volleyball team, is curious about what you’re drawing all the time. Until one day, he stumbles upon a drawing of himself made from yours truly.

Genre: fluff, volleyball player! Sunwoo and art student reader, shy love, softness, and inspired by haikyuu because I have been obssessed with the anime lately TT__TT A/N: It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve posted here! Slowly but surely, I’m going through my inbox and replying to your requests. Thank you for your patience, stay safe loves, ily all xx

-----

Sunwoo wasn't artistically inclined.

But that never stopped him from admiring those that were. He was always so curious as to how just a flick of fingers managed to create a shadow, or how just one glance at a subject made it through onto paper without so much as an effort to remember the details. It was like it was automatically recorded into one's brain, hands already registered to mimic the curves and the folds and the shadows that turned into nothing short of a miraculous piece. So when he caught sight of someone drawing, it always piqued his interest. He stumbled upon you one late afternoon after his volleyball practice, with sweat dotting his forehead and his training bag slung casually over his shoulder. He was about to direct his way to the parking lot upon exiting the gymnasium, only to spot a lone figure huddled upon the bleachers and curled into a ball that caused Sunwoo to frown. Slowly sidling up to the stranger in question and peeking over the railing to catch a glimpse of your face, his eyes are instantly driven to the sketchpad in your hands.

You didn't notice him though, so absorbed in your own world with earphones blocking out reality that a tsunami could've gone unnoticed. So Sunwoo took advantage to climb over onto the opposite bleacher and, after ensuring that your back wouldn't turn to greet him, leaned over the separation to catch sight of a lone figure cartwheeling freely over the page. Woah. You were talented alright. There was nothing else to describe the fluidity of movement you caught with your pencil. It made Sunwoo's breath catch in his throat. He had the sudden urge to know exactly what kind of face hid behind the visual mastery manifesting before his very eyes. After all, there must be other things for them to see rather than the boring literal reality that most people settled for. What kind of imageries were they creating in their heads? What beautiful stories were they crafting? Worlds they got lost in? You moved then, causing Sunwoo to jolt back and scurry away with his heart beating out of his chest, deciding that it was enough spying for the day. After that day, he made sure to seek you out every time after practice although he noticed you never strayed too long in the same place, always moving about like a shadow lingering in the corner, invisible yet omniscient. Sometimes you would find a quiet spot in a patch of sunlight by the tennis courts. Sometimes you'd be found on the bleachers, alert eyes observing every pass, every move, every twist of a body like camera taking everything in. Sunwoo never approached you. Not that he didn't want to, but he found it awkward to just come up to you and present himself as the guy who'd been stalking your drawings. So he admired you from afar instead, relished in the passion of your dark coffee coloured eyes and in the attentive focus dipping your eyebrows in a soft frown, lips paeted slightly in concentration. "Do you know her?" He'd asked one of his friends from the volleyball team once, during their lunch break as he saw you line up at the cafeteria. Changmin took a peek at your face before he shook his head, "she might be in one of my electives." "Which one?" "I think it's art." Sunwoo forced his face to remain in a mask of calmness as he grabbed a steak sandwich, no fries, "do you know her name?" "Nah. I don't think she's ever spoken in class," Changmin's eyebrows quirk up then, "why'd you ask?" "No reason." Changmin's pointed look defined anything but that. Although he did have the decency to drop the subject as soon as the rest of the volleyball team joined the table. Sunwoo got his answer a few days later when he practically toppled over you and your drawing crayons. It was his mistake. He'd been leaning too far out from the top of the basketball bleachers, struggling to get even the smidgest glimpse of what amazing piece of art hiding under your jacket sleeve, only for his foot to slip. Down he went with a curse, crashing straight into your body and quickly scrabbling to wrap his arms around your head, a pathetic attempt to cushion your fall as you fell into a heap in front of the bleachers. "You--you okay?" He huffed out, breathless and heart beating like a time bomb. Pulling his arms away slowly, gently, he finally met your gaze straight on and --oh my, your eyes were not coffee coloured at all. But more of a honey-brown, wide open and framed by soft lashes. Currently dilated in panic. "I'm fine! What--What about you? Oh gosh, I'm so sorry--" "No it was my fault," he made a grab for your sketchbook and scattered pens only for his orbs to register the face messily etched onto the paper. His breath caught. For a minute, he could do nothing but stare at the replica of his face made in charcoal. Those were his eyes, his slightly crooked nose. The scowl he wore during his soccer matches. That was him. The resemblance was akin to that of perfection. That was before your hands snatched away the sketchbook before you quickly slammed it closed, cheeks blazing red, "that's-- I swear I"m not a creep, I-- I just do that for practice--" "It's amazing." Your head-- which had been bowed this entire time for fear that anger would be his response -- shot up in surprise, "what?" "It's amazing," Sunwoo repeated. He wouldn't mind repeating it forever, he realized, if that meant he got to see that aforable blush of yours. He reached out with his hand, "can I look at it again?" So you allowed him after some slight hesitation, and if he noticed, he didn't comment. Fingers brushing against yours slightly, he handled the sketchbook with utmost care as he flipped through the pages with child-like awe. He'd seen your drawings, sure, but mere glimpses here and there, a sneak peek, always accompanied with the fear of being found. But now, he could take his time and actually relish in the soft tracings of your crayon, admire the gentle shadings that made up the tip of his nose. You had managed to capture that frown -- the one he used whenever he concentrated -- to perfection and for a minute he swore he'd fallen in love with himself. "You're really good," he murmured, though that definitely banalized the array of praises popping through his head, "you should keep doing them. I mean it." "So, you're not--" you paused, "mad?" "Well I think you'd have more reason to be mad if you knew I was stalking you from before." "What?" Oh Sunwoo, you idiot. Your eyes had tripled their size and you were looking at him like he'd just grown a second head. He lifted his hands as defence, "that sounded so much better in my head. I swear I'm not that creepy, or a stalker, I just--well you're always drawing and I got curious but I can't really come over and tell you to show me so I had to hide and peek and--" You burst out laughing in his face and despite the fact that he was the cause, he couldn't help joining in with a small chuckle, a grin spreading across his features at how alive you looked at this very moment. "You can ask me next time," your grin settled into a soft smile, "I don't bite." "Your words, not mine," he said, tone lighter and teasing. He helped you gather your belongings and as the pair of you started towards the school gates, he asked for your name. "Y/N," you answered, "and you?" "Sunwoo," he noticed the sky was darkening into purple, a sign that twilight was approaching. Usually, he'd be in a hurry to catch the last bus of the evening to avoid the pain of traffic after six. But it was like his body was slowing down on its own to join your pace, as if he was automatically tuning in to the rhythm of your steps. He found he didn't mind. "So why athletes? Any special reason why you like drawing them?" He asked as you reached the gates. "I just like watching the way they move. It's ...graceful," a hand went to rub the back of your neck, "and they come in handy for figure practice." "I mean, we're not that graceful when you're on the pitch ready to get blown away," he chuckled, "but thanks. At least we know we don't play like animals." "Oh god no. The volleyball team's pretty good. The rugby team on the other hand..." you sigh before you shake your head, "that team is nearly impossible to draw." His shoulders shook as he laughed, "well I don't think they aim for graceful. They look like a pack of wild dogs. Even I don't understand how they play." You had reached the said bus stop by then before you spotted your mother's car along the sidewalk, "oh, my mom's here," you turn to him, "where do you live? Maybe we can drop you--" Meeting your mom? On the first day of meeting you? Sunwoo's hands flew up, shaking them wildly in response, "oh no no, that's not necessary. I'll see you tomorrow!" Thank god for the bus that pulled up at the right time so that he didn't have to linger longer than he needed to. But he didn't miss the small wave of your hand as you watched him go, the smile on your face warming his heart even when it was one of the coldest winter days of the year. From that day onwards, Sunwoo made it a must to make his presence known whenever you were deep in your sketches, always observing, sometimes silently keeping you company and sometimes getting so wrapped up in conversation that your pens would lay forgotten by your bag as you bantered back and forth about subjects that would've made people throw you looks of concern. It became routine to have Sunwoo's head pop up from behind the bleachers or to see him walk up the path to your special hiding spot, right where your gaze would meet the tennis court. You sketched him more and more, folding your drawings into your bag so that he wouldn't see although the urge to catch his face on paper was a growing addiction you couldn't ignore. Even your friends had noticed his lingering presence, proceeding to prod you with questions reflecting their curiosity. "He's from the vòlleyball team isn't he?" Yeji asked one time during lunch, upon noticing the way the said young man's stare lingered over the back of your head before turning away just as quickly, "do you know him?" "We've spoken once or twice." "How do you know him?" Your other friend, Saeron, nudged you with a wriggle of her brows. You brushed her teasing away, "we bumped into each other and then he saw my drawings." "Oh right, you do sketch athletes," Yeji leaned forward, mouth full of bread, "did you sketch him?" "I did, actually." "Oh awkward," Saeron giggled, "he's handsome though, can't deny that. You gotta introduce us sometime." You mumbled out an agreement even though you sat with them just for the sake of having people around. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate them. You did. But they seemed to speak a language you couldn't quite grasp. You would rather sit in your own silence, enjoy your own company if that made sense. Maybe that was why it was so surprising, that you allowed Sunwoo to linger as long as he wanted to. There was something authentic about the way he reacted to your words, an unguarded expression that made you comfortable enough to speak up without fear of judgment. Spending time with Sunwoo was listening to water trickle down the river. Smooth and free. Peaceful. But Sunwoo seldom knew of your high regards, was not aware of the tiny sketch of his figure in mid-spike that was hidden in the pocket of your school skirt so that you could take a peek whenever you felt out of place or nervous. It calmed you down to admire his composure, even if his expression was a mere mimic that could not replace reality. "Do you have any material in particular that you like to use?" Sunwoo asked one cloudy afternoon, breaking the silence while huddling a little closer to peek at your newest sketch of Lee Juyeon; a basketball star player known for his quick reflexes and adept playing style. Not only was his skill on par with that of a Nationals team, but his looks had garnered him quite a fanbase from the get-go. Sunwoo would've liked to say that he wasn't jealous of the way your thumb gently applied shade to Juyeon's lower lip. But the spike in the middle of his chest proved him otherwise. "I like charcoal the most, it's the easiest to work with," pausing to admire your work, your eyes glanced over at him, "do you draw?" He scoffed, "like a five year old." "Wanna try?" "No way. I'll ruin it. I'm okay with admiring it from afar." You hummed an unknown tune as you pulled back your sketchbook, "how is practice?" "Alright. Could be better. We won a practice match last week so we're kind of taking it easy." "That's good though isn't it?" Your gaze met his. His eyes were various gradients of warm maroon and you wished-- at this very moment -- to paint his features into memory. That was when you realized how close you were. You shuffled slightly back and didn't notice the frown Sunwoo threw you in response, "it is. And I'm happy we get to rest. The team deserves it." "You're pursuing it in College?" Your eyes tried not to linger too much over his lips, "volleyball, I mean." "Depends," he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes, "if we make it to the Nationals." "You will." "Someone's confident," he chuckled. "Well I'm no pro but even I can tell you're talented, Sunwoo," you peeked at him from behind your fringe, glad that you could blame the cold for your red cheeks when just the intensity and closeness of his entity made you want to squirm, "so if there's anyone who can do it, it's you." It was impossible to keep eye contact after such a confession. You lowered your gaze, glad for your sketchbook that acted as a distraction. It was at that very moment that the paper tucked so neatly in your pocket slipped out, causing Sunwoo to quickly make a grab for it. You made a noise of protest before trying to snatch it back, but the boy only chuckled before unfolding the creased page so that there he was, depicted in all his glory. "Is that--" his voice was hoarse and you took this as your chance to steal it from his grasp, reddened cheeks burning and fingers shaking as you folded it back to its tiny square shape, "is that me?" "Y--yes." "You--you keep that with you?" "I--I do," you lifted your chin up defiantly, though you felt your limbs trembling. His eyes, they pierced your own, piecing together a coherence that caused your stomach to fill with butterflies. When he spoke next, his words were a mere murmur. "Why?" "I--I don't know," eyes darting towards the ground, you mumbled, "I just like watching you...play." A pause. Then, Sunwoo shifted a little bit closer. "You like watching me play? Or do you like," he cocked his head, "watching me?" If you were red before then you were probably the colour of a fire engine truck by now. Averting your eyes and turning your head away were instinctive responses due to the blood rushing through your face. "Stop flirting with me," came your mumble. Laughing softly in response, he scooted himself a little closer, so close that his shoulder brushed your back. He leaned over, head tilted to catch your expression. "Cute," his lips broke out in a crooked grin and you swore you felt your heart explode. Flustered, you shoved him away out of instinct but he wasn't having any of that. His hand grabbed your wrists and with a yelp, you were dragged even closer to his chest. "You like looking at me that much huh?" His tone was teasing while his eyes glimmered with playful mischief, "why is that,Y/N?" "You ask as if you don't know," you mumbled out through jumbled words and you were glad he actually understood you. But instead of laughing some more, his features softened into a smile instead as he proceeded to gaze down at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. It was in your normal behaviour to admire people. Not the other way around. And at this very moment, you felt way out of your comfort zone. "I don't know." Your orbs flew up to his in surprise and what you found in those coffee-coloured pupils made your breath stutter, heat coiling through your abdomen. "It...it calms me down," your whisper was barely louder than a breath but by the way Sunwoo's smile widens to reach his eyes, you could tell he heard you just fine. "I like watching you too," he replied. A strand of your hair caught in the wind and he raised his hand to curl it around the back of your ear, his touch ghosting with sparks wherever flesh bumped into flesh. You felt warm. He didn't pull away. Didn't bother hiding the slight dust of pink in his cheeks either, as he slowly allowed his palm to cradle the side of your face. Gently. As if he feared you might run away, recoil back. But you didn't. Even with your breaths going staccato, even if your heart felt like a wild animal. You calmed yourself down with the knowledge that he seemed just as nervous as you were and suddenly, out of a stroke of boldness, your hand went up to hold on to his, pressing it close to your cheek. His breath hitched. You shivered. The wind blew against your figures, a gentle reminder that the day was coming to an end. You weren't exactly sure what changed that day. There were no verbal agreements, nothing that suggested your relationship had changed. Yet, the subtle touches of his hand against your back, your shoulders, moving your hair from one shoulder to another, complemented by his gentle doe-eyed stare that made your toes curl, these changes were small, but significant. And you couldn't find it in your heart to say that you disliked it. What are we? The words lingered at the tip of your tongue, as bitter as the aftertaste of coffee as you stole small glances in his direction. You were sitting comfortably under a tree that overlooked the tennis court where Sunwoo had decided to join you. He'd fallen asleep halfway through your beginning sketch and was now leaning against the tree trunk, face relaxed and body leaned towards yours, close enough that you could admire his face. Countless hours you had spent tracing Sunwoo's features on paper. Countless times you had imagined tracing his lips with your thumb, wondered whether they were as soft as they looked. Maybe it was just curiosity or maybe you had let him walk into your heart so easily that you hadn't realized it yourself. But if there was one thing you could swear your heart upon it would be that you could no longer imagine every day without Sunwoo's presence at your side. As if on instinct, your fingers took a life of their own as they reached up to push a few strands away from his face. They gently carved a path down his cheek, landing at the corner of his jaw. Dangerously close to his open mouth. There was no denying it. Sunwoo was beautiful. Handsome. Had those features on par to that of a model's. You were so focused on edging your way to touch his lower lip that you didn't realize you had been staring, until you glanced up to see his brown orbs fixated on yours. You froze. Shit. "Like what you see?" He murmured. Then, before you could scramble back and probably run with your tail between your legs, his own hand grasped your own and he pushed himself off the trunk before his head angled towards yours, finding your lips. Soft. Sunwoo's lips were soft. You panicked. Not used to the closeness. The fire that sparked between your lids. But his other hand went to clasp your jaw, holding you close as he kissed your next protest away and unconsciously brushing his thumb against your cheek. Shivering in his touch, there was no running away from the way his mouth molded against yours so snugly, and you didn’t want to. You found yourself addicted to the sweet pressure of his upper lip meeting your lower ones and soon enough -- without realizing -- you melted into his touch.

Sunwoo made a noise that sounded like a soft grunt, his other hand lacing around your waist to pull you closer so that you tumbled halfway into his lap. With embarrassment suddenly flooding through you, you let out a squeak that he answered with a chuckle of his own before distracting you once more with a series of kisses that left you gasping.

Your hands, initially balled into fists in your lap, went to rest against his chest and you didn’t realize that you were gripping onto his school shirt until you parted for air. Only were you aware of your compromising position, of the hard ridges of the young man’s thighs, of the firmness of his chest against your palms, of the way he seemed to be so much bigger than you even though he was a lean athlete, meant to be light and as speedy as the wind.

Breaths coming out ragged, you tried to slow the beating of your heart. Though it seemed to be quite the challenge, given how lovingly, how intense, Sunwoo seemed to be in making love to your neck, nibbling on your pulse point and causing a soft whimper to fall from your lips.

A whistle blew in the distance.

The soccer team. They’d be crawling up the hill any minute now.

“Sunwoo,” you breathed out, eyes hazy with mixed feelings of desire and embarrassment. You feebly tried pushing against his chest, to no avail. He merely groaned, head tilting upwards to catch your mouth into another kiss.

“Sunwoo,” you groaned against his lips. But he held on for dear life, one hand clasping the back of your neck, tangled into your locks. The other around your waist, pressing you as close as he could possibly get you to be.

“Just one more,” he mumbled in-between kisses, hooded eyes fluttering closed and head slanting to kiss you a little deeper, a little harder.

Your body was on fire. You weren’t used to this intimacy, nor all of the affection he was raining down upon you.

But it felt good. It felt amazing. Eye-opening.

He finally relented after what seemed like an eternity and you quickly made a move to scramble out of his lap. Though he wasn’t having any of that, grip made of iron as he held on. You looked up to snap at him to let go before everyone saw but was faced with his pout instead, which was enough to bring down your defences.

“Please,” his pout deepened and your heart practically vaulted through your chest. Cute. Cute. Cute. Stop. Burying his face into your neck, he whispered, “I just wanna hold you.”

So he did. And thank god the team had decided to take a different route so that you would avoid their imploring, questioning gazes. Though Sunwoo admitted that he’d already known they would go up from the other side of the gymnasium, considering they did that every other week to train their stamina in the process.

That earned him a light smack on the side of his head, making him whine, “What did I do to deserve this Y/N?”

“You knew!” You wanted to throw him a glare, but it was impossible when you were busy fighting the grin spreading across your face.

He grinned back at you, that crooked smile that always resulted in a burst of butterflies roaring through your abdomen. Just like now.

“So, since you have a drawing of me that you keep staring at every day--” his words died into laughter when you tried smacking his arm, proceeding to cage your wrist with his hand before kissing your knuckles. You squirmed as he continued, “does that mean I can get a picture of you?”

You let out a noise of protest, “that depends,” you mumbled, unconsciously finding refuge in his neck.

Chuckling, Sunwoo grasped your chin lightly to pull you back so that his brown orbs gazed right into yours with a gentleness that had you weak at the knees, “on what?”

“On what I get in return.”

“What if I say I’ll take you on a date?” he said wickedly.

You couldn’t help your smile.

“I guess that could work.”

655 notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart

Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.

***

As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.

“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”

Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”

He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”

The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.

***

Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”

“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”

“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”

“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.

“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”

“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”

“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”

“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”

Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”

“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”

“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”

“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”

“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”

He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”

Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”

“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”

“Yeah. You painted that?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”

“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”

“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”

“Because of your job?”

“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”

Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”

“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.

“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”

“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.

“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”

He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”

Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”

Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”

At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”

(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”

Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“No shit, kid. What kind?”

(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”

Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”

“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”

“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.

“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”

“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”

“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”

“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”

“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”

“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”

Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”

“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”

The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”

“Bisexual.”

His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”

Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”

“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”

“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.

“What do you recommend?”

“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”

“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”

“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”

“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”

“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”

“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

***

“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”

“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”

The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.

(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”

Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”

He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”

Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.

“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”

Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”

I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.

He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”

Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?

“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”

Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”

(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”

What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.

“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”

“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”

“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”

The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”

“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”

(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”

“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I did not say that.”

“You did, but in more words.”

“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”

“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”

***

He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”

Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”

Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”

He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”

“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.

173 notes · View notes

drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 40: Hesitant

It had been a slow descent in to madness, Harry reflected, as he fondly (yes, fondly) watched his completely barking mad auror partner drag in a rolled up mat the size of a living room carpet to the middle of their tiny office floor.

He watched as Malfoy looked at the office, taking in the dimensions for a moment, before casting a (rather complicated) spell that enlarged their office space enough to make room for the mat to lay out flat.

Harry couldn't help but be impressed; Malfoy had done it half a dozen times at this point in their career but expansion charms were quite tricky and (technically) weren't allowed in the ministry.

Harry fell a little further.

"Alright, Potter," he snapped. "Is this enough for your delicate sensibilities? Can we solve this case now?"

"You know, Malfoy," he said as he shrugged out of his auror robes, "A simple 'please' once in a while wouldn't go amiss."

He rolled his eyes, "Oh, please, good and gracious savior, would you please help little old me to solve the case so that you can get all of the glory?"

Harry winced. He knew Malfoy was taking the piss but it hit a bit too close to home. It always seemed like no matter what they did or how they solved the case, Robards always found some way to attribute it to Harry's abilities. No matter what Harry said to the contrary. "Malfoy-"

"Oh, don't," he said, waving a hand. "It's fine. I don't care."

"Well I care," Harry grumbled as he slipped his shoes off.

Malfoy smirked at him, "Well if you really want to make it up to me you'll hurry the fuck up and lay down on this mat so we can figure out what happened to our victim."

(More below the cut)

He groaned but did as he was told, collapsing onto the mat.

"Good," Malfoy said, stalking around Harry with all of the grace of a jungle cat (probably the deadliness of one, too). "Right arm up over your head," he instructed. "Bend your elbow a bit."

Harry did, closing his eyes and letting Malfoy's instructions wash over him. There had to be some perks of playing the dead guy.

"Right," Malfoy hummed softly, "So if you were stabbed here," he said, nudging the spot between Harry's fourth and fifth rib with the toe of his shoe, "And you were stunned. How did they manage to get so close without you pulling your own wand?"

"Are we sure he wasn't stunned first and then stabbed?"

"Yes," he replied. "Why bother stabbing someone if they're already stunned?"

"When we know that it wasn't the stab wound that killed him," Harry agreed.

"It doesn't make sense," Malfoy grumbled. "Why would I stab you, then stun you, and then kill you? If it were about the pain of your death, I'd stab you and then curse you. But stunning someone meant that they didn't want them to feel the pain."

"Maybe they were making too much noise?" Harry asked.

Malfoy shook his head, "The tracer on scene said that there was a muffliato used around the perimeter to prevent anyone from overhearing."

"It's almost like there were two different un-subs with two different motives," Harry mused.

Malfoy put one leg over him so he was standing with one foot on either side of his body, straddling his rib cage and Harry had to work very hard to remind himself that he was at work and to keep his bloody mouth closed and his hands to himself. "Say that again," Malfoy said.

"What?" Harry squeaked, worried that he'd somehow said something untoward.

"You said, 'it's almost like there were..." he prompted.

"Uh," Harry replied, circling back to that. And honestly, he couldn't be blamed for his brain abandoning him like this, under this particular set of circumstances, anyone's brain would be short circuiting. "I said, 'It's almost like there were two different un-subs with two different motives.' I think."

Mafloy stared at him for a long moment and Harry knew that he wasn't really being seen, Malfoy was mostly looking through him as he tried to process. "Two different motives," he repeated. The other man got that far off look in his eyes as he stared through Harry.

His gaze focused back in on Harry, "The one who stunned him was trying to keep him from feeling the pain," he said. "You're right, Potter, there must have been two un-subs, and our poor victim had two children who stood to inherit quite a bit."

"One of them is a squib," Harry added.

"Which would explain the knife," Draco finished.

"And," Harry said, "Explains why our victim didn't draw his wand."

Draco nodded, "Exactly." He reached down, offering a hand to Harry, which he took as he allowed the other man to pull him off the floor. "Let's go arrest some suspects."

--------

The arrest had gone... poorly, to say the least.

So poorly, in fact, that Harry had ended up in St. Mungos having multiple lacerations tended to along with a shattered rib. It had turned out that Jonas, the brother who was a squib, had rigged up booby traps and for all that they had magic, muggle technology still won sometimes.

Shattered bones weren't as easily mended as broken ones, they needed to be removed and regrown, so Harry was still in the hospital bed, trying to relax while his body regrew his fifth rib, when Malfoy arrived.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, looking drawn, and pale, and hesitant.

"Come in," Harry said, frowning a bit at the other man, "I won't bite."

Malfoy huffed and rolled his eyes, "What if I asked really nicely?" he teased as he entered the room.

"Well, if you ask really nicely, that's a different matter entirely," Harry replied, thinking there wasn't much we wouldn't do for the other man.

"Not much, huh?" Malfoy asked and Harry realized he'd said that last bit aloud, too.

"Yeah," he said softly, looking over at the other man. "I can't really think of anything I wouldn't do for you."

"Harry," he breathed, shaking his head. "What were you thinking? You almost died because you threw a shield around me first."

"I won't let anything bad happen to you. Not if it's in my power to stop it," he said.

"But why?"

Harry let out a humorless chuckle, regretting it almost instantly when his re-growing rib protested. "Are you really going to make me say it?"

Running a hand nervously through his hair, Draco replied, "Well one of us has to."

He didn't dare let himself hope that Draco meant what it sounded like he meant. This couldn't possibly be two sided, could it? "I think you're the one who's going to need to say it, then," he whispered.

"Harry," Draco murmured again, leaning a bit closer. "I'm going to need you to tell me if I'm reading this wrong."

His face was mere inches away, his eyes searching Harry's for an answer. "You're not reading it wrong," Harry replied as he closed the distance between them and brushed a soft kiss over Draco's lips, wincing at the stretch in his ribs.

"Lean back," Draco said, voice soft and warm and Harry wanted to drown in it.

He did as Draco instructed, resting against the elevated back of the hospital bed.

Draco cupped his cheek, brushing his thumb over Harry's cheekbone before leaning in and kissing him again. He kissed him slow and sweet like he had all the time in the world; like he'd done this a thousand times already and would do it a thousand times more.

A cheer from the doorway had them both jumping and turning to see that Ron was standing there.

"Err-" Harry started.

"Finally," Ron said emphatically. "Sweet Merlin, we were starting to think it was never going to happen. And you perfect idiots helped me to win the office betting pool!"

"Sorry?" Harry said, looking a Draco who looked equally confused.

He grinned and came in with the takeaway bags, "I always knew it was going to be after Harry got hurt keeping Draco safe." Then he frowned, "You did just get together, right? Like it hasn't been in secret? Because if it has, could you lie and say it hadn't so I can win-"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Yes, we're just realizing that the other feels the same. Don't worry, you've won."

"Excellent," Ron beamed, "Hermione and I have been working really hard on saving a down payment for a house and this ought to cover it."

Harry blanched, "How much is the betting pool?"

He lifted a shoulder as he handed Harry a box of lo mein and Draco a box of sesame chicken, "A little over 2500 galleons the last I knew."

"2500 galleons?!"

"Yeah," Ron replied, "You wouldn't believe how many people wanted in on the betting." He grinned at them, "Everyone was sure that you'd end up together so it was just a matter of how."

"And no one thought to tell me?" Harry asked incredulously.

"We've been tiptoeing around each other for literal years," Draco added.

"Well," Ron said, around a mouthful of fried rice, "When something is inevitable, it's inevitable."

---------

Day 39: Confess | Day 41: Embrace

#drarry #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlets #100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #Day 40 #auror partners #getting together #my writing #i hope you enjoy!#thanks for the prompt!

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beyondthebarrier · 3 years

Text

Starker Festivals Summer Bingo

Prompt: Didn't Know They Were Dating | Title: Rising to the Occasion | Ao3

Summary: The media seems to think that Tony and Peter are dating. In fact, so does Rhodey. And Aunt May. And the team...

Don't worry. Tony sets the story straight.

This is my first proper Starker fic so bear with me!

It wasn’t abnormal for Peter to be alone when he woke up, if he was being honest. Tony was rarely still in bed in the mornings, presumably quick to dismiss himself from the actions of the night before. Peter never minded, usually always able to find the man elbows deep in some project that he might be able to pick the genius’ brain about.

“FRI, can you start me some coffee?” Peter asked quietly, his voice a little raspy from sleep.

“Of course. Good morning, Peter.”

“Good morning, FRIDAY.”

Peter got to his feet, finding his sweatpants from the day before and Tony’s discarded Black Sabbath shirt before making his way directly to the kitchen for the promised cup of coffee. It took a few sips for him to realize that he heard voices coming from the living room - he’d assumed he was the only one in the penthouse. He recognized the second voice easily though so he wasn’t shy about heading that way.

“Look who’s awake,” Tony announced with a smile when Peter and his bedhead popped up in the open door frame. Rhodey looked his way and Peter waved around his coffee mug.

“Hope you’re here on your own accord and not because he dragged you for some nonsense, Colonel,” Peter greeted with a smirk towards the man in question.

“I’m not here for damage control this time, miraculously,” Rhodey replied easily, chuckling.

“In that case, I’ll leave you two to it. Tones, I’m gonna shower and head downstairs. It was good to see you, Colonel!”

As Peter made his way back towards the bedroom, Rhodey looked over at Tony and sighed at the look on the billionaire’s face.

“He looks good on you, Tony.”

“Here, May, I’ve got it,” Tony swooped in, grabbing the woman’s empty plate before she could fully get to her feet. Peter rolled his eyes but stood as well, his own empty plate in hand.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to him,” Peter started, exasperated. “This man would rather buy new dishes than wash them at his own house and then he sits here and readily offers when we’re over here. Please, I need to know your secret. I’m tired of coffee rings in all the mugs.”

“Oh it’s easy, Peter. He’s scared of me,” Aunt May said in a faux whisper, winking at Tony before she settled on her sofa with the rest of her glass of wine as the boys worked to clean the kitchen. Tony washed while Peter absentmindedly dried and put away dishes, chatting away quietly to the older man. When Peter turned back to face the man, Tony quickly smeared soap bubbles onto Peter’s cheek, grinning. With a laugh, Peter reached into the sink, splashing the man with the water in the sink, despite the expensive suit Tony was wearing. Tony didn’t seem bothered as he grabbed the young man around the waist and pulled him in close for a hug, getting him wet as well. Peter squeaked, making Tony lean his head back in laughter before kissing Peter’s forehead and letting him go. Only Tony noticed the look that May was giving them both and he just smiled before turning back to finish cleaning.

As they left, Aunt May wrapped both men in crushing hugs to say goodbye. As Tony helped Peter into his jacket, he looked over his head at the woman, smiling.

“It’s our turn next Sunday, May. Be at the penthouse at seven.”

“I thought the little spider was supposed to be here? I brought ale for him to try!” Thor announced, holding up a large jug full of… well, not even Tony was eager to try the liquid sloshing around. Peter had been excited with the prospect of an alcohol that would give him the proper effects but Thor was right - Peter was nowhere to be found.

“Maybe he’s just running late,” Tony replied with a casual shrug, even as he slid his phone out to send yet another text to the missing member of the team. It was meant to be a little game/movie night and Peter was usually the one coercing him into attending so his lack of punctuality was bothering Tony. However, it wasn’t until Natasha and Steve also pointed out Peter’s absence that Tony excused himself. They weren’t sure exactly where he was going until they saw the suit fly off from the landing deck, heading in the direction of a shitty little apartment in Queens.

When Peter didn’t answer the door, Tony let himself in with his key, calling out Peter’s name frantically. It was a studio apartment and Peter groggily sat up in bed, blinking at the man who had just rudely interrupted his sleep.

“Pete, there you are. You’re missing game night, why are you- You’re burning up, sweetheart!” Tony sat on the edge of the bed, the back of his hand pressing against Peter’s forehead.

“M’cold,” Peter mumbled, trying to wrap the blankets around himself again so he could lay down.

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Not hungry..”

“Okay, you’re definitely sick,” Tony pointed out, jumping to his feet to search the kitchen for food. Peter spent so little time here now that the cabinets were practically barren. There was certainly no cans of soup or really… anything. With a wince, Tony reached for a half-empty jar of peanut butter and a spoon, heading back to the bed.

“Tones, m’not hungry,” Peter whined as he scooped peanut butter out of the jar.

“Sweetheart, you need calories. Just a little bit and some water and I’ll let you go back to sleep. Your body will kick this in no time but it needs fuel to do it,” Tony said firmly, lifting the spoon to Peter’s lips. He opened them, accepting the spoon reluctantly and smacking his lips as he tried to get the peanut butter down. Tony got up, fixing him a cup of water. Between the two of them, they painstakingly got a full eight ounces of water and four big spoonfuls of peanut butter into the enhanced man before Peter gave up, flopping back into the pillows.

“Are you going back to game night?” he asked Tony, a rather pitiful look on his face. Tony shook his head, laying down beside him and wrapping his arms around him.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. Go back to sleep, I’ll be right here,” he assured, running his fingers through Peter’s sweaty curls and kissing his forehead.

Peter had decided to leave the tower for his lunch break, the idea of a sandwich from the deli down the block on his mind all morning. It was a beautiful day and he’d been looking for an empty space on a bench when he noticed the pointing in his direction from a few people by a magazine stand. He glanced down at himself, trying to see if maybe his shirt had come untucked or he had trash trailing on his shoe but he didn’t spot anything. However, he did hear the words, ‘Tony Stark’s boyfriend’ come from someone’s mouth and his stomach immediately twisted. He couldn’t stop himself from going over to the stand, dreading the idea of seeing Tony’s smiling face on a magazine cover with some- Oh. It was him. Peter laughed, picking up the glossy booklet. They’d attended a gala on Saturday evening for SI and the photo on the cover was the two of them all dressed up and smiling at each other in front of some rose bushes. ‘Tony Stark and boyfriend, Peter Parker, Rose to the Occasion.’ Peter scoffed at the title, setting it back down and reaching for his phone. He wasn’t sure Tony would find it as amusing as he did but he was just relieved that it hadn’t been someone else on that cover.

Thankfully, Tony didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He had already known about it, getting the alert from PR hours before, and even seemed a little concerned that Peter might be upset about it.

“Do you want me to put out a statement about it?” Tony asked him over the phone, as if sensing Peter’s slight discomfort.

“You won’t be rude about it or anything, right? Just clarify, sweet and simple?” Peter asked, noticing that he was still garnering a bit of attention. Thankfully, New Yorkers themselves were usually nonchalant about that kind of thing so it was only the tourists that were trying to draw attention to him.

“Of course. I’ll get it out right away,” Tony assured him.

Peter had no reason not to believe him. He thanked him, hung up, and moved further away from the news stand. He muted his phone before digging into his sandwich, taking advantage of the rest of his lunch break before heading back to work. It wasn’t until he was in the elevator going back up to R&D that he noticed his phone was blowing up. He sighed, expecting a tweet or something from Tony laying out the truth but what he found caught him off guard.

Relationship. Tony said relationship. He hadn’t claimed that they were just friends or fuck buddies or whatever. He said relationship. Peter was so hyperfocused on the words that the next thing he registered was FRIDAY’s voice.

“Mr. Parker? Mr. Parker, are you alright? Your vitals are concerning, should I alert Mr. Stark? ..Peter?”

“No! No, FRIDAY, no, don’t alert him, I’m fine!” Peter scrambled to answer, glancing up to see what floor the elevator was at currently. “Please don’t. I’m fine. I’m answering you, I’m fine!”

FRIDAY reluctantly agreed not to tattle just as the elevator stopped at his floor. Peter wasn’t feeling very fine, despite his protests, as he stepped out. He expected lots of stares and whispers, perhaps even direct comments about him ‘dating the boss.’ But there was nothing. Either nobody here had seen it yet or they just didn’t care. That certainly helped matters as he made his way to his table, intending on trying to focus on work but finding himself scrolling through the comments on the post instead. It was full of congratulatory messages from strangers but their friends didn’t seem very surprised. Rhodey, Nat, Ned, even Steve commented, all seeming as if this was barely news to them.

Peter got to his feet, heading back to the elevator to get to Tony’s lab. As the doors slid open on Tony’s R&D floor, Tony was standing there waiting to get on. The man flashed him his signature smile, stepping aside so he could get out.

“I was just coming to see you. May texted, said you seemed a bit out of it. Are you okay? I know the attention can be a lot but if I repeatedly make it clear that I want your privacy to be respected, it shouldn’t get too bad. Trust me, the fangirls will go rabid when reporters get too in-your-face about something,” Tony explained, leading Peter towards his office. Peter didn’t respond, staring straight ahead as Tony closed the door behind them. “They’ll want to protect you at all costs,” Tony continued, heading for the sofa instead of his chair. Peter remained standing, still just staring. Tony finally realized something was up and quirked an eyebrow at him, curious. “Pete?”

“Boyfriend.” Peter said blankly, staring at the man.

“Um, yes? I also have a name you can address me by.”

“Boyfriend.”

“Oookay, that works too. Peter, what’s wrong?”

The younger man started pacing the length of the office and Tony sighed, covering his face with his hands for a moment before regaining composure.

“FRIDAY, diagnose him. Fever? Has he been drugged? Is he having a psychotic break?”

“Sir, it appears that Peter is in a state of shock,” FRI replied easily. “His heart rate is elevated but nothing to be concerned about.”

“Shock over what?” Tony asked, watching as his partner continued to pace. He could practically see the gears turning in the boy’s head.

“It seems that Peter was not aware that the two of you were dating, Sir.”

Tony let out a humorless laugh while Peter came to a halt, his cheeks tinting pink as he stared at the floor. Realizing that there may be some truth in what FRI was telling him, Tony got to his feet, carefully approaching Peter.

“She’s right, isn’t she?” He asked softly, frown lines deeply engraved into his forehead. Peter refused to respond, not even looking up. Tony sighed, cupping the man’s chin and gently lifting it. “Pete? Is she right?”

Instead of answering, Peter’s face crumpled.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, hiding his face in his hands. Tony immediately pulled him into his chest, wrapping his arms around him securely. “I didn’t know that’s what this was.”

“That means I fucked up somewhere, Peter. Not you,” Tony soothed, rubbing the boy’s back. “If it had just been sex, I could understand, but Pete, sweetheart. I go to Sunday dinners with your Aunt. I host Sunday dinners for your Aunt. I take care of you when you’re sick, I let you wear my clothes.. Baby, we practically live together.”

“You never asked! You never used the words dating or boyfriend or-or-or relationship or anything,” Peter defended, lifting his head to look at the older man.

“Eight months ago, we laid in bed and I told you that I never wanted this to end. That I wanted forever with you,” Tony explained. “You agreed. I thought we were pretty clear from there on.”

“I thought that was pillow talk!” Peter exclaimed. “I’m so angry right now that it’s not even funny.”

Tony frowned once more, immediately letting Peter go and holding his hands up in surrender.

“Angry? You’re angry that I thought we were dating?”

“I’m angry that I’ve been holding back for eight months because I thought I wasn’t allowed to have you! I don’t kiss you first or touch you first or cuddle you whenever I want because I didn’t want to be too much for you!”

Tony’s face broke out into a grin, seeming relieved.

“Well, let’s rectify that right away.”

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #sfsummerbingo21

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joontier · 3 years

Text

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report vii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: FINALLY~ we get to see a little bit of JK’s pov heh

word count: 2.4k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist] @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

“I hope you don’t mind us picking up a friend first then a drive thru afterwards... we did promise someone a ride to the ceremony as well.” Chohee eyes Jungkook through the rear-view mirror. “Plus, we haven’t had any breakfast yet sooo…” Your new passenger uncharacteristically nods with unbridled enthusiasm. Huh.

“Totally not an issue at all. If you don’t mind, breakfast is on me,” he announces, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. You raise a freshly threaded eyebrow. There is no way this kid is actually offering to pay for your food. Jungkook clears his throat quietly, “Um...since you guys offered me a ride...you know…”

Without even having to look at each other, you just know you and Chohee have similar smiles plastered on each of your faces. “Well,” Chohee makes a quick glance at the man seated at the back, “if you insist, Jungkook-ssi. How nice of you to do so.”

You’re positive Jeon Jungkook will regret he even offered - in half an hour. Probably less.

Just recently, Chohee has decided to relive an old hobby of hers: teasing you relentlessly with men clearly way out of your league until you actually end up investing much more time than intended (just as planned by Chohee) - until you come to the realization that there wasn’t going to be even the slightest chance of them even liking you back. End point is - you end up getting heartbroken for irrational reasons.

Chohee, whose eyes sparkle with mirth with every mention of the Jimin, continues her teasing, despite your constant reminders to have her energy and time diverted to another subject, instead of poking her head through your currently non-existent love life.

It’s an undisputed fact that Jimin is a cutie and quite the charmer, especially with his heroic deed of saving your sorry ass from getting your drinked spiked at the bar. However, there is a part of you that knows the slightest bit of infatuation you might feel or might have felt for Jimin was probably caused by the lack of interaction with men for the majority of your collegiate life. Of course, you always came back to your principles, that of which is prioritizing your career to shun love interests.

Admittedly, you might have gotten distracted once, but you won’t ever let that happen again.

In line with your best friend’s attempt to have you score a date and a boyfriend eventually, (her timeline, not yours!)Chohee had even gone so far as offering Jimin a ride to the oath taking ceremony that’s going to be held today at the Coex convention center at Gangnam.

With Jimin’s apartment just a couple of blocks away from the gasoline station, you spot him right away when Chohee turns right into the corner. He’s stood by the entrance of his apartment building, looking effortlessly attractive as he scrolls through his phone while waiting.

Chohee presses her fist lightly against the center of the wheel, the car emitting a soft honk to get Jimin’s attention. Jimin gives a curt wave in acknowledgment and reaches between his legs to grab his satchel. As soon as Jimin opens the car door, his head jolts slightly backward in surprise when he sees another passenger already inside.

Chohee does the ice-breaker, introducing Jungkook to Jimin while she drives off. “Just before we got to your place, we had to fill the tank first and whaddya know? Met Jungkook at the gas station too! His bike broke down and I’ve offered him a ride - ergo, your new seatmate.” She adds a thumbs up. “Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin.”

Contrary to Chohee’s cheerful voice mere seconds ago, awkward silence ensues after the two men bow to each other in greeting. The only subject of sanity the car was holding onto was the soft voice of Chohee’s navigation app coming from her phone on the dashboard.

Why was it so hard to talk when you’ve all got at least a few things in common?

Right, maybe it’s the fact that Jimin may or may not have known about your beef with Jeon Jungkook. Chohee’s doing, obviously.

Thankfully, you spot a Burger King joint along the way and propose getting a greasy breakfast instead of looking for other options. There are murmurs of agreement heard in the suddenly cramped space of your best friend’s car. “Jungkook-ssi, breakfast still on you, yeah?” Chohee asks, joining the queue.

“Uh…yeah-”

“Perfect! Just making sure because _________ and I are famished!” Okay - that wasn’t exactly the word you were looking for, but if it gets you the free meal, then you’re absolutely ravenous. Chohee’s eyes briefly pass yours before sending a wink in Jungkook’s direction. “How ‘bout you Jimin-ssi? You hungry?”

He looks at you, then Chohee, then at Jungkook. “I’m fine, I’m not hungry.” You see Jungkook trying painfully hard to not let his eyes dart around too much. Just then, a low rumble erupts from Jimin’s stomach. Woops. Your brain can dictate your emotions but tummy would never lie outright.

“Jimin-ssi!” Jungkook clasps a hand on the blond’s shoulder. “It’s fine! Breakfast is on me. Order up, bro!”

With Jimin still looking hesitant, Jungkook decides to add a little fairy dust to his encouragement, “think of it as a mini celebration of us finally getting to be licensed doctors in a few hours!” Jimin gives in with very evident reluctance, even offering to pay for the whole group instead at one point.

Your swear you see hesitation cross Jungkook’s eyes briefly, but you’re glad he’s a man of honor, even if it be for this particular instance only, firmly dismissing Jimin’s proposal. Which is perfect, honestly, because this time you get a chance at revenge and a very hearty breakfast.

“No crumbs on the floor, please!”

From the backseat, you see Jungkook eyeing your paper bags on yours and Chohee’s laps, face stoic as ever. Emphasis on bags. A little more concentration and Jungkook can pretty much send lasers blasting through his eyes with the way he’s scrutinizing your orders.

As shameless as it sounds, you and Chohee were never ones to back out of a free meal - and make the most out of it, especially when one had offered so nicely. So imagine Jungkook’s reaction when he and Jimin only got a Whopper meal and you and Chohee get upgraded full meals.

“Doesn’t seem like we’re the ones who should be worrying about crumbs…” Jungkook mutters, taking a bite of his fry that’s a little too harsh for a slice of a poor fried potato.

“You say something Jungkook?” Chohee queries, unabashedly letting out a small burp after taking a sip of her chocolate flavored milkshake. Bowing his head, Jimin tries to hide his smile as he takes a bite of his burger. You decide to step in, wanting to add a little more MSG to your breakfast menu this fine morning.

“Hey Chee, heard of the news last Monday? There had been recent occurrences of drivers kicking out their passengers in the middle of the expressway, especially this road in particular… talk about some zombie apocalypse shenanigans...I wonder why though…”

Jungkook clears his throat, addressing you this time. “Your strawberry milkshake...good, yeah?” With cheeks flushed, Jungkook dares not to look forward, murmuring his regrets over ordering more food next time.

You nod with genuine gusto, throwing him an additional thumbs-up, which only causes Jungkook to sulk slightly in his seat. You eat the rest of your food with a bright smile. Ah, free food - what else is there to say?

“If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.”

After reading the Hippocratic oath, the newly declared licensed medical doctors collectively put their hands down and take their seats. There is an immediate sense of fulfillment heavy in the air. Nobody can blame them - not when one has gruelled through six years of medical school.

Jungkook inhales deeply, yet he still feels like he’s out of breath.

He draws in another long one, savoring each second of exhale afterwards. From his peripheral vision, Jungkook watches you as you wave endlessly to the someone on the far right where the family and relatives are seated. Though he can’t see much from afar, with the way your hands are moving slower by the second, he figures you’ve already managed to catch the attention of whoever it is you were waving at.

Jungkook diverts his eyes somewhere else, eventually landing on the stage where he sees his own father, standing behind the podium as he gives - what people beside him would consider - a ‘motivational’ speech in front of all the new doctors of Korea.

He wonders if he could even see him, if he knew that his own son actually made it through college, if he realized that they were under the same roof at this very moment - an occurrence he never thought would happen again.

Jungkook reverts his eyes back to you, watching you in secret as you talk to yourself while trying to address someone else. So you were waving to your parents after all. Cute. The man couldn’t fight back the small smile etching onto his face.

He was happy for you - a genuine statement, even though majority, if not all, your encounters consist of you both bickering like small kids… And yet, he can’t deny the strong feeling of envy brewing at his heart, knowing that he could never have the same type of interaction you had with your parents, with how tight you all seem.

Jungkook felt sick. Even though you ordered twice as much as he did, he felt like throwing up. He wanted this ceremony to be over with already.

Much to Jungkook’s relief, the program ends shortly after that. Excited to greet and congratulate the new batch of doctors, people from all sides of the venue rush to the entrance. With literally nowhere else to go, Jungkook decides to follow you through the crowd, in the hopes that you’ll lead him to Chohee and Jimin so he could properly thank them for the ride and he could be on his way.

He’s surprised to not see you the least bothered by it, but then again, the convention center is packed with both the oath-takers and their relatives, so you might have really not known that he’s been following you all along.

Like usual, it’s Chohee who notices him first. This girl is everywhere, all the time.

“Jungkook, you’re here!”

Chohee's acknowledgement of his presence causes you to turn in your heel quickly to verify it. You stare at him briefly, opening your mouth as if to say something when someone calls out your name. “Mom!! Dad!!”

Your English call causes a few onlookers and Jungkook recalls somebody once pointing out that you were a foreigner - and that you were also the first one to finish at the top of the class at SNU.

With Chohee’s parents tailing yours, they rush to their own daughter, congratulating her with a hug and a cute bouquet of tulips. As Jimin appears with his own party not too long afterwards, Jungkook figures it’s his cue to leave. At this rate, none of you would have noticed if he actually left.

Just as Jungkook was about to take off, a small hand grabs his wrist. You’re looking up at him and he swears he sees your lips curve upward a little before dragging him back to your little group. Stunned as ever, Jungkook wonders if he hinted on a little bit of concern in your features… and you smiled at him! For the first time! At least that’s what he thought he saw.

Admittedly, all interactions between you and him were not the most friendly. Jungkook knew he acted like a dick a couple of times, but it’s the only way he knows that might allow you to lower your guard because the only thing he was certain of was that you get worked up every time you see him.

Regardless of whether or not it really was a smile, Jungkook finds himself standing in the midst of this gathering of some sort. “Moms, Dads, this is Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin.”

The moms suddenly gush over them, while their fathers eye the two younger men warily. “Are you?… you’re not…” Chohee’s mother nudges her husband a little too obviously. “If they are, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?” she grits, a bright smile plastered on her face. Jungkook wanted to laugh at the uncanny resemblance with her daughter.

“Oh what young fine men you are! Mrs. Park, you must be very proud of your son!” Your mother exclaims, resting her cheek on her palm. “But Jungkook-ssi, your parents must be lost then… my husband and I couldn’t figure out how this whole convention center works either…”

Jungkook shakes his head slowly, lips pursed. “Oh. Um, my parents won’t make it today. They’re very busy people…” Jungkook drags his words, hoping they’ll drop the subject.

Well, they did, but there was an inevitable pregnant pause after that - one which Jungkook was avoiding in the first place. Chohee’s mother clasps her hands together, breaking the awkward tension. “Uh - would you like to join us then? A little celebration for a memorable day?”

Jungkook bows his head curtly and declines the offer. He wanted to, but he knows it’ll only do more damage to the wound. “It’s okay, Ma’am. I still have quite a lot of things to do today, like getting my motorcycle fixed.” Jungkook nods to Chohee and the girl briefly recalls how they got to the venue together.

Jungkook doesn’t take long after that, bidding his goodbye to everyone and thanking Chohee for the ride that morning. “Well, I’ll be going now. __________-ssi, Chohee-ssi, Jimin-ssi, guess I’ll….see you when I see you.”

“See you when we see you then,” you reply and Jungkook swears it’s an actual smile on your face this time. He returns the action and gets on his way, hoping that he really does get to see you all another time.

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #bts series #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff

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idreamofplaid · 3 years

Text

Living a Lie

Summary: Sometimes happiness waits on the other side of pain and misunderstanding.

Characters: Sam x Reader; Dean mentioned

Word Count: 3826

A/N: The expansion of my Masterlist continues. This is another one of my early fics that I’ve revised a little and am reposting. At the time I wrote it, I wanted to explore the effect someone’s looks can have on them wherever they may fall on the spectrum of what is considered conventionally attractive.

READER’S POV

There had been a time Sam picked up girls in bars, not with the frequency Dean had, but he'd done it. Now, he was doing it again. Dean had stopped entirely because he was in love, monogamous, and completely happy. Dean spent his nights sharing a bed with his soul mate. Sam prowled bars, and you hid away, alone, in your room.

Your heart broke again every time Sam didn't come home. The pain was fresh like it was the first time, like somehow your heart had mended, had rebuilt itself just to be shattered again. A heart in pieces leaves an emptiness in the center of your being, but all the broken shards are still there, the sharp edges piercing you from the inside out. That was how it felt when night fell, and Sam wasn’t in the bunker. You knew where he was and what he was doing.

Those were sleepless nights for you, nights spent hearing Sam's voice in your head. You'd always been too romantic for your own damn good. How could you be sitting here in the dark, back against your headboard, clutching your pillow tightly to your chest while you cried over the loss of a man you'd never had? He wasn't a man you were going to have. You'd seen pictures of Jessica. You just weren't his type. Sure, you could dye your hair blonde. That still wouldn't make you model gorgeous with a perfect body.

You were smart, maybe not Stanford smart, but who knows? You might have been if you'd actually studied in high school instead of sitting in the back of class scribbling love poems in your notebooks. You had more than one regret and missed opportunity in your life.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Sam's footsteps coming down the hall. He had to pass your room to get to his. That's when you got your brilliant idea. You jumped up and flicked on the lights, splashed cold water on your face at the sink, and reached for your makeup bag to erase the evidence of your crying.

Minutes later you were knocking on Sam's door. He opened the door dressed for bed, and you smiled your prettiest for him. "Can I come in?" He opened the door wider giving you room to walk inside and stood with his arm over his head, hand on the door as he leaned against it watching you.

You took a seat on the end of his bed and waited. Sam closed the door and walked closer to the bed. He was still looking at you with an unspoken question in his green eyes touched with warm honey.

He didn't move any closer, and he didn't say anything. Your broken heart made you bold. "Your night didn't go the way you had planned?"

Sam raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. "Planned?"

"Yeah. You know. You didn't go home with anyone." You looked down as you said it, unable to meet his eyes and say it out loud.

Sam sat down next to you, head bowed, his hand under his hair on the back of his neck. "Uhh...no, I didn't go home with anyone."

You inched closer to him until your thigh was touching his. He looked at your bare leg and swallowed. You hadn't worn anything to bed but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties.

"You don't have to spend the night alone, Sam." You reached for his hand and moved it to the inside of your thigh parting your legs slightly. His hand covered a large portion of your leg. It was warm and solid, and the feel of it made your core quiver.

SAM'S POV

Your skin is so soft, and you smell so good. How am I supposed to resist this? Resist you when I've wanted you for so long? I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry. You should be touched by a man you love, not me. I love you, but you deserve more than something one sided. That's why I haven't said anything or made a move. Maybe I shouldn't have put you on a pedestal, but I did. In my mind, that's where you belong.

I slide my hand along your smooth skin stopping at the top of your thigh, take a deep breath, and pull you closer to me with my other arm so I can kiss you. Your mouth opens under mine, and my tongue eases inside. Everything about you is so sweet. I'll never forget the way you taste. I want to leave some trace of me on you, some mark, some memory that you were mine for a little while. I pull you down on the bed with me and roll on top of you.

My kiss gets deeper; you accept it and respond. My hand is moving over your hip and under your shirt. I'm already halfway to hard. My hand is resting on your waist, and I keep kissing you, taking it slow.

I've thought about kissing you so many times, but my imagination never got it right. My hand continues its move up your body over your stomach, and I feel you pull back the tiniest bit. Alarm bells go off in my head. You're beneath me, in my arms. I want you so much, but if you’re not absolutely sure…. I pull back and look at you. "I can't do this, Y/N."

The expression on your face sent a pain straight to my heart. The next thing I felt was your hands pushing against my chest. "Get off of me!" I sat back, and you were off the bed instantly, glaring at me through tears.

"Really, Sam? Am I that much of a disappointment? Just tell me I'm not good enough for you. Just tell me!" You stormed across the room fumbling with the doorknob before you managed to get it open.

You turned back to me. I was frozen in place trying to absorb the shock of being snatched out of the soft, perfect dream that I'd been lost in seconds before. "Go back to the bar, Sam. It's early. I'm sure there are plenty of tall blondes there with long legs, or petite brunettes, or whatever the hell you want. Take your pick; you can, and I'm sure she'll be happy to satisfy you."

The slamming of the door got my brain working again. I almost fell off the bed in my hurry to get to you, to explain. By the time I got the door open, there was no sign of you in the hall. I ran toward your room calling your name. When I got there I wanted to crash through the door, but I controlled my near desperation to let you know what I truly felt, that I would never think you weren’t good enough. It’s me who isn’t good enough for you.

I knocked on the door. Seconds passed. You weren't going to answer it. I didn't blame you, believing what you did. "Y/N. Y/N. Please. You don't understand. Let me explain. It's not what you think. At all. It's nothing like what you think."

READER'S POV

Sam had stopped knocking on the door, but he hadn't stopped talking. You were leaning against the door listening. "Please let me in, Y/N. I'll tell you everything. Just let me in." He sounded genuinely upset.

Even now, after what he'd done, you still wanted to comfort him. You wanted to take the hurt from his voice. Slowly, you opened the door. His chest was rising and falling fast. This really had affected him. That didn't make sense. You'd offered him sex. Scratch that. You'd offered him you, and he wasn't interested. Now, he was upset? You saw the relief wash over his face. "Y/N?"

In a flat voice you said,"You can come in." He stepped just inside the room. You walked to the bed and sat down. "Stay over there."

Sam folded his hands in front of him, drawing your attention to the bulge that was still in his pajama pants. He focused on the floor in front of where you were sitting. "Why did you do it, Sam? Do you know what it feels like to be cast aside like that?" You swallowed and shook your head, fighting back another wave of tears. "No, you don't, because practically every woman that sees you wants you. If you spend the night alone, it's because you choose to."

He raised his head to look straight into your eyes. "I've chosen to spend a lot of nights alone. Do you know why?" He paused. "Because I met you. I started noticing these little things about you like you chew on your bottom lip when you're trying to figure something out. You run your hands through your hair and put it behind your ears all the time; it's enough to drive a guy crazy. You always eat your French fries first. When you want to relax or calm down, you listen to rain or ocean waves. Then one day you smiled at me like you had probably hundreds of times before, but that time was different. That time I felt my stomach do a little flip, and I knew I was in love with you."

A tear slipped down your cheek. Sam's voice was deep and gentle as he kept talking. "Then Dean got married, and right in front of me every day I saw what it was like to share your life with someone. He had everything I wanted. My brother was happy."

Sam looked up to the ceiling; tears collected in the corners of his eyes. He looked back down, blinked, and they fell. Then he raised his eyes back to yours. "So, I started going to bars because it was too hard to be here, but I was never going to find what I was looking for there because it was already here, and I knew it. I wanted to be with you."

"Sam?" His name came out of your mouth as a whisper.

"The problem was you didn't want it. I saw your reaction when waitresses would flirt with me at the diners we went to. You'd tense up or get fidgety. You didn't like it. You thought I was one of those guys who likes to play those games, using my looks to stroke my own ego."

You put your hand over your mouth and held it there before you moved it down to your chin, fingers shaking. "Sam, I never thought that about you. I thought I could never measure up to those women who were flirting with you. That’s what I didn’t like, that I was someone who could never get your attention." Your hand was shaking harder now.

Sam crossed the room in three steps and wrapped his arms around you. He held you and rested his chin on top of your head. "Don't you know you're beautiful, Y/N?"

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with tears. "How would I know that, Sam? No one has ever told me." He squinted his eyes slightly and brushed the tears from your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "And, if that's what you thought then why did you stop?" Your voice caught, and your words came out unsteady. "I was going to give myself to you." You were shaking in his arms.

Sam stroked your hair, touching you like you were precious. It made you cry even more. His voice was steady and soothing. "Shhh. That's why I couldn't do it. You should only give yourself to someone you love as much as I love you. Anything less than that isn't the way it should be for you. It isn't what I want for you." He placed a single kiss on top of your head.

You lay your hand on his chest where you had shoved him earlier, so close to his heart. "Sam, I do love you."

SAM'S POV

Your touch was light, and your hand felt tiny on my chest. I held you tighter, processing what you'd just said. After a few seconds, I pulled back from you far enough to see your face. The truth was in your eyes; I could see it. You do love me.

I knew this kiss was important. We would remember it for the rest of our lives, talk about it in the middle of the night when we settled back into bed after one of us got up to take care of our baby. I barely touched your lips with mine at first, but it wasn't long before everything I felt for you that I'd kept bottled up inside came out in that kiss. My hands were holding your face, and I slid one of them into your hair. You felt so warm and willing. My body was responding to you, hardening again.

Your hand rubbed down my side grabbing the bottom of my t-shirt. You started to pull it up. I broke the kiss long enough to take it off, then my mouth was back on yours. I felt your hands on my back, and I wanted to feel your skin. I rested my cheek against yours, slowly easing my hand back under your shirt where it had been before. I whispered to you "Is this okay?" I kept my hand still, waiting for your answer.

I felt you tremble. "My body isn't what you're used to, Sam."

I brushed my fingertips across your stomach looking for any sign that you didn't want me to. "You're perfect, Y/N. I'm going to show you just how beautiful you are." I felt your head nod against mine, so I moved my hand up a little higher and cupped your breast. You sucked in a breath and let it out in a tiny gasp. I kneaded gently, moving my thumb back and forth across your nipple until it was hard. You arched your back, rolled your hips, and let out the sweetest, softest moan I could have ever imagined. The way you sound is beautiful. I did the same with your other breast, kissing your neck while I touched you.

All your little moans and noises had me totally hard and throbbing for you. I moved my hand back down your stomach and under the waistband of your panties. You whimpered when I slid my finger between your folds, and you were so wet your juices were running over my hand. Avoiding your clit for now, I put one finger inside you and your moans got louder. "Sam."

I moved that finger in and out, establishing a rhythm. "I've got you, Y/N." You were tight around just my finger, and my dick twitched. I added another finger, taking all the time you needed to stretch you and get you ready for me. I held you close while I pumped them into you. When you were writhing against me, I touched my thumb to your clit and started making little circles. Then I changed the motion, dragging my thumb over your clit in time with my fingers moving in and out of you. When I thought you were ready, I added a third. You clenched around my fingers and tightened your hold on my shoulders. The feel of your hands clutching me like that made me moan, imagining what you would do once I was inside you.

I went back to making circles, faster this time. "Let go, Y/N, let go." You came on my fingers, your nails digging into my shoulder. I worked you through your orgasm then put both of my arms around you. You were panting. I kissed you,taking those little breaths into me. I could still feel you shaking in my arms. "I love you, Y/N. I love you."

I held you until you stilled in my arms and were calm again. You shifted, sitting back and looking at my chest. You reached out and touched me gingerly. "I'm sorry I pushed you off me the way I did." You leaned down kissing the places on my chest where your hands had pushed against me.

When you sat back, I put my hand under your chin tilting your face up. "Let me see you, Y/N." You only hesitated a second before you lifted your shirt over your head and put it down beside you. I think I held my breath when you reached to take off your panties. You are beautiful. Your body is all feminine, soft curves I want to kiss and caress. Seeing you makes me harder. The tip of my cock is leaking; I feel it. You lift your hips and slide your panties down your legs.

My mouth drops open, and I Iick my lips pulling the bottom one into my mouth. I can see the uncertainty on your face. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"

You close the distance between us and lay your head on my chest. "Yes." It may only be one word, but it's exactly what I need.

I put my arms around you, my hands on the bare skin of your back, and I lower you gently to the bed. "I'll make this good for you; I promise." I take your earlobe into my mouth sucking lightly. "You are beautiful, Y/N, and sexy. Do you know how much I want you?" I push my pelvis against you, so you can feel my erection. "That's because of you. It's for you." I move my mouth down the side of your neck, kissing you the entire way. Your skin is sweet; it occurred to me then that I'll fall asleep tonight with the taste of you on my tongue.

I kiss my way across your shoulder. Then I lift my head to put my mouth on your breast. I start by kissing a soft circle around the edge then move to the center to flick my tongue over your nipple. My lips close around you and start to suck. A groan escapes from my throat, deep and full of need. I'm so hard for you now that I don't know how much longer I can take this, but I will.

I move my mouth to your other breast, careful of my teeth. Tonight I'm making love to you slowly, gently, and completely. I want you to forget that I've ever been with anyone but you. I want you to understand who you are to me and never again feel the need to compare yourself to another woman. I swirl my tongue around and over your nub until it stands up firm in my mouth, my fingers rolling your other nipple still moist from my mouth keeping it just as tight.

You're squirming under me. I lick down the center of your stomach right to your core, and you open your legs for me. I put my hands on your hips to hold you still. You are so wet my face is covered in your slick as soon as my tongue touches you, and I drink in everything you give me. My tongue is flattened against your clit. I’m stroking it slow, teasing before moving down to push my tongue inside you. I thrust it as deep as I can go. Your voice is pleading with me. "Sam. Sam." I go back to your clit, pointing my tongue and moving over it as fast as I can. You're fisting the sheets.

"Put your hands in my hair, Y/N. Hold me where you want me." You did exactly what I said and pulled my hair hard. That turned me on even more. You were close to coming again. Your thighs were shaking. I put two fingers inside you and crooked them rubbing your g-spot until you fell apart. I kissed your stomach softly while you came down from your orgasm, keeping my fingers inside you. "You are beautiful, Y/N. Absolutely perfect."

Your expression is gentle and a little blissed out from the two orgasms, but your words are clear and certain. "Sam, I want all of you. I want you to come inside me. Give me what I gave to you." I kissed you one more time just below your belly button then stood up long enough to take off my pants. Naked, I crawled back up your body and propped myself on my forearm so I could brush your hair off your cheek. It amazes me that every part of you is just so soft.

My face was just inches from yours. I was memorizing the way you looked right now. "Are you sure?" Your eyes were filled with everything I'd ever wanted to see there. Love. Trust. Desire.

"Yes." You lay your hand on my cheek. “I’m completely sure.”

I couldn't take my eyes away from yours as I lined myself up with your opening. I wanted to see the look on your face when I entered you for the first time.

READER'S POV

You felt the end of Sam's shaft touch you. The way he was looking at you made you feel wanted and, yes, beautiful. You felt the stretch as he pushed inside. He stopped with just the tip, letting you get used to his size. Your eyes closed and fluttered back open. "I love you, Sam." He slid in another inch.

"I love you too, Y/N.” He went deeper, inch by inch, until he was all the way inside you. He started to move, and you grabbed onto his shoulders. His thrusts were so deep they were hitting your cervix. Your walls tightened around him. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. He moved faster then slowed down. "I don't know how much longer I can last, Y/N. I'm so close."

Through all your pants and moans you managed to say, "You don't need to. Just love me. Don't hold back."

He pumped into you deep and fast. You felt him throb releasing his seed into you. "Sam!" You scratched down his back. "I'm coming again. Sam." You squeezed your eyes shut tight. Everything went black. Then you felt him rolling over, bringing you with him so that your body was part way on his, and he was cradling you against him.

You lay with your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat for a long time. Finally, it slowed back down to its normal rate. Sam was combing his fingers through your hair. "Can you forgive me, Y/N? All those nights I wasn't here, I should have been."

You snuggled closer into him. "You didn't owe me anything, Sam. There's nothing to forgive. Just don't ever do it again. Let me be enough. I want to be enough for you."

"You're everything, Y/N. Everything."

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @petitgateau911 @thinkinghardhardlythinking

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner @sams-sass @beskaradberoya

#sam x reader #sam angst #sam smut #sam fluff #sam oneshot #sam in love

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seijorhi · 4 years

Note

hello, im always on the hunt for new funky fresh yandere!suga content! i really enjoyed the post you made for him, it's exactly up my alley! would it be possible to request a gender neutral reader finding out just how much suga's been stalking them after they left him? by stumbling on something they shouldnt see (could be a dark room, or a journal, whatever youd like) and have him walk in on them then?

Suga will always be my first Haikyuu love, so of course!

Sugawara Koushi x Reader

TW stalking

Red Handed

When you were a little kid, your mom told you a story.

It was about a handsome man with a blue beard, the woman who married him despite the warning signs, and a locked cellar that was never supposed to be opened. You were too young to hear it, but as horrifying as it was - it stuck with you.

Curiosity can be a dangerous thing.

But sometimes… sometimes you just can’t help yourself.

In your defence it wasn’t so much a wilful breaking of trust so much as it was an honest mistake. Sort of.

It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself pouring over textbooks and hastily scrawled notes with Suga, but it is the first time it’s been just the two of you - and the first time it’s been at his place instead of yours.

“I give up,” you moan, letting your head fall flat against your notebook. “I’m gonna fail this stupid exam, drop out of school and have to resort to finding some rich, attractive guy to marry and support me instead.”

You’ve been at it for hours, the two of you spread out on his couch, a mountain of snacks between the two of you. You have to give Suga credit for that - the man knows how to keep you motivated to stay but this, this was beyond your limit. It’s never a good sign when you reread the same sentence five times and still have no idea what it says.

A soft laugh sounds and there’s a hand rubbing soothingly at your back, “Aw c’mon, don’t be so dramatic. You got me, right?”

You lift your head slightly to find him smiling at you with that same fond exasperation, and almost without meaning to you find your frown softening. It’s true. Suga’s pretty much your lifeline at this point - not to mention the reason you’re actually doing pretty well in most of your classes this semester.

God only knew where he found the patience.

“What, you gonna marry me when they kick me out in disgrace?” you ask with a wry half grin, pushing yourself away from your notes. “Take care of my freeloading ass?”

Suga doesn’t say anything for a moment. You brace yourself for the lecture and/or pep-talk he’s given you a thousand and one times before, but when you glance up at him again, the look on his face isn’t the one you’re expecting.

He’s still smiling, but there’s something… odd about it.

It’s just a flash, a flicker of something fleeting in his eyes-

You blink, and whatever it is- was - it’s gone and Suga’s looking at you with the same expression he always wears whenever you start bemoaning your future and the possibility of failing.

Huh… your eyebrows draw together, the faintest hint of unease teasing at your gut. Just for a moment - a split second - you could have sworn that…

But no, you’re just tired. Your brain is absolutely fried after hours studying, whatever you thought you saw, you must have imagined. Because Suga’s your friend. A good friend, maybe the best one you’ve ever had. Still… you really shouldn’t tease him like that.

“Hey, you know I’m kidding, right?” you ask, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Anyway, I think I’m done. I can’t look at these stupid notes anymore - they’re making even less sense than when we started.”

Suga sighs, rolling his neck and flipping the cover of the textbook shut. “Well I suppose it is getting late. Are you hungry? I can order some take out if you want-”

You shake your head before he can finish, “Nah, can’t tonight. I have a date,” you say, shooting him a wink. “Next time though? When everyone’s free. I feel a little guilty stealing all of your time for a one on one session as it is.”

Suga stills for a moment, glancing up to find you smiling sheepishly back at him. “Oh, a date? With that guy from class?” he asks, busying himself in tidying up the notes spread out across the coffee table.

That guy from class. Yeah, the one you haven’t been able to shut up about for weeks. That one.

“Yeah. Nothing crazy, just dinner and a movie - still, I think it’ll be fun, y’know?” You were trying for a blasé tone, but somehow you think the slight dusting of pink on your cheeks kind of ruins it a little bit.

So maybe you were a little excited about it - it wasn’t a crime was it?

Suga gives a non-committal hum, but doesn’t say any more on the topic. Together it doesn’t take the two of you long to clean up, gather your notes and stash the snacks back away for the next study session.

You still have enough time to dart home, have a shower and get ready, but- “Hey, before I go, is it okay if I use your bathroom?” you ask a little shyly. You guys have been friends for months, and you definitely don’t want to come across as rude, but you can’t deny there’s still something slightly embarrassing at having to ask permission.

“Yeah, of course. Down the hallway, last door on the right.”

You nod, thanking him quietly.

It’s a simple mistake. At the end of the hallway, there are two identical doors, both closed over.

Last door on the… left? That’s what he said, right?

You twist the doorknob, easing the door open and within a split second you know that you’ve got the wrong door because this is definitely not a bathroom, but…

Curiosity pushes you forward.

It’s Suga’s bedroom. Your feet move like they have a mind of their own, drawing you in further into his room. You’ve never been to his place before, and you’ve definitely never been in his bedroom before, but you can’t deny that you’re curious. Surprisingly it’s not the mess that you’re expecting - the double bed neatly made and aside from a sweater tossed haphazardly across the back of a chair and a pair of jeans that hadn’t quite made it into the laundry hamper, there’s no dirty clothes littering the floor.

You know it’s rude to pry. You know that, but in that moment you can’t seem to help yourself. Suga won’t mind, really, and it was an honest mistake.

There’s an acoustic guitar in the corner (does he play it, you wonder) and a volleyball covered in signatures sitting on one of the shelves above his desk. Even now, you know that he loves the sport with his whole heart. You’ve never been to a game before, but part of you thinks you’d like to, Suga always makes it sound so exciting. You find a smile creeping across your face as you wander over to have a closer look - there’s photo’s everywhere, in frames, pinned to a cork board on the wall - him with his family, with his friends, even one of the two of you together… and is that a medal?

You’re startled out of your thoughts by your phone vibrating in your pocket.

It should have been a wake up call, a sign from the universe to snap out of whatever nosy spell you’d managed to find yourself under and get out of Sugawara’s bedroom before he comes in to find you blatantly invading his privacy. It should have been - except instead you reach for your phone and fumble.

You’re incredibly thankful for the carpeted floor because you can only watch in horror as your phone clatters to the ground and bounces (bounces!) under his bed.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath, dropping to your knees and resting your cheek against the mattress as you reach blindly into the dark space.

It takes a second of fumbling before your hand lands on something. It’s not your phone, you can tell that much right off the bat - it’s bigger, a box of some kind.

You should have left it.

Really, Sugawara’s a young, healthy guy like any other - you have an inkling of what could be inside the box. And it’s not like you want to see whatever spank bank material your friend has stashed away, you don’t, but…

But there’s a voice in your head that ignores all of that. A voice that whispers so delightfully, so eagerly, for you to just open it.

Open it, it whispers as you slide it out and set it down on the bed, settling yourself down beside it.

Open it, it whispers as you run your fingers along the wooden lid, sanded smooth except for the intricate carving in the centre. It’s strangely beautiful you think - not exactly the kind of box you can imagine filling with something so lewd.

Maybe it’s not what you think… maybe Suga has something else stashed away in this pretty little box. What else could it be? What does a guy like Sugawara Koushi have hidden away under his bed?

Open it, it whispers as your fingers find the edge and you slowly slide it open.

You immediately wish you hadn’t.

It’s you.

The photo’s a little blurry, taken from a distance and zoomed in, but it’s definitely you, lying in your bed, head thrown back with your eyes closed, bottom lip caught between your teeth-

The sheets obscure the rest, but from the flush on your cheeks and the arm disappearing between your spread legs, it’s obvious what you’re doing.

There’s more. You with your friends, laughing. You out with your ex, maybe a month or so before you’d broken up. You in your bedroom again, a white fluffy towel wrapped around you, your hair still wet from the shower.

You walking home from class, taken from behind.

You in your favourite cafe, sitting by the window with a steaming mug in hand, staring out with a soft smile.

You tucked up on the couch, eating dinner with the TV playing in the background.

You.

Every single photograph was of you, and every single one of them taken without your knowledge. Pictures of you from last year, long before you ever met Suga. How long has he been-

You can’t even bring yourself to finish the thought. You feel sick, violated, your hands trembling as you flick through the images. You don’t want to see any more, but you can’t seem to stop yourself. You at the park with your friends, walking their dogs and chatting aimlessly. You bending over to pick up something, the shot framing your ass in a way that seems almost… lewd.

When did he take these? H-how had you never noticed?

Oh god, some of these are from outside your home.

Your stomach churns, you might actually vomit…

“Got lost, baby?”

You jump at the sudden interruption, quickly snapping the lid shut and shoving the little box of horrors away from you like it’s poison, hurried excuses already on the tip of your tongue - but it’s too late for that.

One look at Sugawara, standing framed in the doorway, watching you with an eerily calm expression upon his face and you know that it doesn’t matter what you say. There’s no denying what you’ve seen.

No coming back from it.

His eyes drift to the box, the incriminating pictures spilled across his sheets and he sighs. “You know, I wanted to make this special for you. I wanted to do this right.” His hazel eyes flicker back to you as he steps inside his bedroom and shuts the door behind him. The soft click has never sounded so deafening. So final. “But you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You just couldn’t keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong.”

Your heart thumps painfully against your ribs, the sound so loud that you’re sure he has to be able to hear it too. It’s not nausea that seeps through your veins, keeping you frozen in place, but fear. Suga’s always been such a gentle presence in your life but there’s no trace of that person left as he closes the distance between the two of you.

It’s all been a lie, a carefully crafted facade designed to pull you in. Do you even know him at all?

“S-suga, what-”

“Shh,” he murmurs, placing a finger across your lips, a soft, delicate smile playing across his features. “Didn’t your parents ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat?” He pauses for a moment, watching with wicked delight as your face pales and you jerk away from his touch with a strangled gasp. “It’s okay, baby, there’s no need to look so worried. Don’t you know I’d forgive you anything?”

His lips crash against yours before you can even think to reply.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere suga #yandere suga x reader #yandere sugawara koushi #yandere sugawara x reader #yandere sugawara koushi x reader #yandere imagines #my writing #yandere hq #yandere fic #sugawara x reader #suga x reader

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gayestnerdsinfiction · 3 years

Text

Rivalry

requested by @micapearls (ed hearing jon full body laugh for the first time)

Ever since he first met Jonathan Crane, Edward has had an unshakable fixation on eliciting any type of emotional expression from the other man. To the untrained eye it would appear Jonathan was unable to experience any human emotions beyond displeasure and annoyance. Jonathan doesn’t cry, he doesn’t shout when they argue, he doesn’t allow any facial expression to inadvertently cross his stoic features. Over time, Edward has been able to get a better feel for the subtle cues that indicate his partner’s emotional state, but Jonathan still makes an effort to hold his feelings and opinions close to his chest. Edward wants so badly to break him of this habit. He’s lost count of the amount of meaningless arguments he’d blown out of proportion in the hopes of making Jonathan visibly angry. But perhaps that’s just trauma reenactment.

It was after one such failed attempt to goad Jonathan into an argument that Edward finally got what he was looking for. He had unsuccessfully tried to get a rise out of the other man, throwing out the cruelest, most spiteful things he could think of. Things he didn’t mean, things he doesn’t want Jonathan to think he meant. Unfortunately, this only resulted in Jonathan disappearing off into the lab, leaving Edward to sulk alone in the living room. He’s sitting on the couch, staring absently at the television when Jonathan finally reappears from the basement, his expression as austere and unreadable as ever.

“I’m having a drink,” the older man announces, breezing past Edward and into the kitchen. He removes a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and holds it up for Edward to see. “Do you want one?”

Edward doesn’t particularly care for whiskey but he can recognize a peace offering when he sees one. He nods wordlessly, sliding to one end of the sofa to make room for Jonathan to sit if he wanted to.

Jonathan pours the two drinks, bringing them into the living room and handing one to Edward. He accepts. Takes a small sip, trying to ignore the unpleasant taste.

“What are you watching?” Jonathan asks as he sits down a respectful distance away from Edward.

“News,” he says. “I’m looking at it more than I’m really watching it.”

Jonathan studies the screen for a few moments, sipping his own drink steadily. “Turn up the volume,” he says abruptly.

Edward obliges, directing his own attention to the TV as well. The reporter onscreen is standing in front of the Gotham University campus. There are cop cars and officers crowded around the building, many of them with heavy tactical gear and weapons.

“Shit, I hope whatever this is doesn’t screw up the heist I had planned for next weekend,” Edward mutters as he puts his drink down on the table.

“…As you can see the police are behind me attempting to negotiate the release of the thirteen hostages currently being held on the University grounds.” The camera cuts away from the reporter to show a closer shot of the police officers at the scene. Edward can make out commissioner Gordon speaking into a walkie-talkie at the front of the group. Bullock stands beside him, looking generally burly and gruff but otherwise not contributing much. “The location and condition of the hostages is unclear; all we know is that those thirteen students and faculty members are trapped somewhere in the Joker’s sadistic maze. More updates on the way as we continue to document the most recent criminal exploits of Gotham’s most fearsome criminal.”

“Ouch,” Jonathan says dryly. “Seems unfair that I’m not the most fearsome criminal in this city but I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.”

Edward, in the meantime, is too busy trying to navigate the mixture of anger, surprise, and jealousy that has begun burning in his chest to even register Jonathan’s comment. “He—I feel like I’m having a stroke, I mean, did that reporter say what I think she said?” he splutters, standing up from the couch to gesticulate wildly at the screen.

“What’s your problem?” Jonathan asks. “Joker does something like this every week, you can’t be surprised at this point.”

“You don’t understand,” he snaps, ignoring the heat he can feel rising into his face and ears. “I was going to do a sadistic maze at the university. Me! That fucking clown stole my idea! I mean, am I the only person with any goddamn integrity in this vile city?” He collapses back onto the couch, throwing his arms up. “I had the whole thing planned out, all the pieces built and ready to be set up and he just swoops in with his dollar store makeup and awful dye job and ruins everything like he always does. I mean, do you know how hard it is to build a maze from scratch and make it appear with fully functional traps and people in it before the cops show up? It’s not easy, I’ll say that. And it’s not cheap either!”

Jonathan watches Edward’s hysterical monologue in silence, takes a few moments to digest the entirety of the rant, and then bursts out laughing.

Edward’s jaw drops. Usually when Jonathan laughs it’s little more than a sharp exhale or the hint of a smile. But this laugh is a loud, unrestrained cackle, so raspy in places it almost sounds like a wheeze. It’s the first time he’s ever seen his partner seem genuinely tickled by something and he can’t even enjoy it because it’s at his own expense. He can’t tell if he’s more shocked to see his partner’s entire body wracked with laughter, or more indignant that he’s being laughed at in the first place. He snaps his mouth shut, his face screwing up into a scowl. “It’s not funny.”

“It absolutely is. Your whole thing with the Joker is hilarious.”

“It is not! He’s completely destroying my reputation, my career in this town. I mean, now I can never do that heist I had planned because the Joker already did it and everyone’s already accusing me of ripping off his costume and gimmick. If I even mention that I had the same idea, then people are going to try and accuse me of stealing his fucking intellectual property too.” He gets up again, pacing almost frantically around the room. “It doesn’t even make sense for him to do something with a school, I mean, I’m the one whose whole aesthetic and MO has to do with knowledge and learning. He should go terrorize a fucking comedy club or something, leave the higher education to those of us whose brain cells haven’t been fried by a vat of acid.” He glares at Jonathan who is still doubled over with laughter. “Stop laughing at me, I’m serious.”

He raises a hand to cover his mouth, though it does nothing to soothe his amusement. “I’m sorry. But you have to admit, you sound ridiculous right now.”

“I fail to see how this is ridiculous.”

“You’re demanding artistic integrity from a man who dresses like a clown and kills people for fun.” Jonathan manages to stifle his laughter a bit, but Edward knows he’s never going to let him live this down. “Besides, neither of you went to college so I don’t see how you have more of a right to a university based maze heist than him.”

He rolls his eyes. Jonathan loves to point out that Edward never went to college because it’s the only real accomplishment he has that Edward couldn’t easily replicate. Just because Jonathan suffered through nine years of higher education that would have driven Edward into a murderous rage doesn’t mean he’s better than him. “A maze is a type of puzzle is it not? Last time I checked I was the prince of puzzles which, in my eyes, makes me more entitled to use mazes in my traps. I also think it makes me sound cooler. I mean, ‘clown prince of crime’? How pathetic is that.”

“They’re both pathetic,” Jonathan says. “I don’t know why people keep trying to call us princes like we’re not all broke psychopaths.”

“I’m not broke.”

“But you don’t deny being a psychopath?”

Edward continues to glower at the other man who is still fighting against a smile. “I can’t believe you’re not on my side right now.”

Jonathan shrugs. “I mean, you have to admit your costume color schemes are remarkably similar.”

“They are not! My preferred color scheme is green and purple, his is purple and green, okay, they’re distinctly different!”

“Edward,” he says, using that tone he always takes when Edward is acting irrational, “Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too seriously?”

“Not in the slightest,” he insists, knowing that this is arguably a stupid thing to care about. “You’ll never know what it’s like to always play second fiddle to everyone’s favorite costumed criminal. At least people are scared of you. Everyone just thinks I’m some kind of joke thief.”

“Well, maybe you need to give them something to be scared of. Show them you mean business.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you propose I do that in a way that is both on brand and not derivative of the Joker’s own crime sprees?”

Jonathan’s smile changes, becoming less humorous and more devious. Edward can see the familiar gleam in his eye that indicates the Scarecrow’s mind is hard at work. There’s the Jonathan he’s used to. “I bet I could give you a few ideas,” he says slyly, finishing the rest of his drink in a single swallow. “If you don’t have any qualms about torturing people.”

Despite the fact that he’s still annoyed with Jonathan for making fun of him, Edward can’t help but flash a smile back at the other man. There’s just something about those clever, sinister eyes that always draw him right back in. “What did you have in mind?”

#i know this was a long road to walk to fulfill the prompt but I hope u enjoy #scriddler #scarecrow #riddler #jonathan crane #edward nygma #batman #dc #my writing #joker #just a reference tho bc he's stinky

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internalsealpanic · 4 years

Text

Cosmonauts

Summary: You always call Tim space related nicknames. No one knows why.

A/n: This is technically a follow up to Art Gallery Smile but it can be read on its own. This was posted on mobile so Idk how bad it got formatted. Will edit when I get to my laptop.

Warnings: mentions of panic attack and anxiety. No graphic detail but just in case. (Yes, I gave Tim anxiety. Fight me.)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

“IT WAS ZOMBIE ADJACENT,” Roz protests, shoving another one of Tim’s fries into her gaping maw in a vain attempt to stop the petulant pout retching its way to her lips. You roll your eyes hard enough that your entire head follows along with their movement, taking a nibble of your own fries. Roz scowls, mouth twitching the way yours does (4 times to the left and 4 and a half times to the right) it was honestly the only way to tell that you two were related in any shape or form.

“It wasn’t even close, you deep-fried stick of margarine,”

“It shambled, didn’t it?”

“So does Space Case over here when you don’t funnel enough caffeine into his system, what’s your point?” You bite out leaning back, slinging your arm over the back of the bench and over Tim’s shoulder making his breath hitch. Tim can feel his skin heat up. For once, he’s thankful for just how much Roz hordes your attention. He’s starting to run out of excuses for the color of his cheeks. Not that you ever fell for any of it from the way you hummed every time he stammered out his excuse.

Based on the way your hand flexes and not so subtly moves away, you noticed his flush but made no comment. Instead, you grin- all sharp teeth and cocksure and smug bastard- leveling your older cousin a look which roughly translated to ‘Checkmate, motherfucker’. Despite his apprehension, Tim can’t help the smile that twitched on to his lips. Your eyes flickered to him. It might just be his imagination but Tim was pretty sure he saw fondness chip away at your smug grin. Tim kind of wants to lean into your arm but instead, he leans forward pretending to pay attention hiding his smile in his hands. His face is gonna get tired from smiling too much around you.

"It wasn't even close,"

"It was freaky looking,"

"Damn woman, you're being real judgy there,"

“Back me up here Duckie!” Roz screeches, shoulders hiking up making her look like a frazzled cat about to hiss pulling Tim away from his reverie. You roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head while Steph just snorts. Tim sighs. None of you have stopped calling him ‘Duckie’ or ‘Ducktective’ after that stint of being ‘Drake’. Admittedly, it wasn’t his best idea but you didn’t have to laugh that hard and slap your knee. When you were done laughing, you vehemently protested the name change by wearing your precious, well-kept, one of a kind Red Robin hoodie for the duration of the ‘Drake’ thing. You had said it was to bring him back to his senses (sense of fashion). Maybe you just wanted to fluster him. He certainly couldn’t put it past you. It worked. Oh, it definitely worked. Now, all he could think about was how nice you looked in his colors which inevitably lead him to think about how nice you would look in his shirts, in his clothes- Damn it. He’s doing it again.

Roz clears her throat. It is loud and rough and it makes all of you wince despite the already loud atmosphere of the cafeteria. Really what does Roz expect him to say? One, Tim wasn’t fully paying attention. How could he when you two are smooshed together on a cramped cafeteria bench with you still wearing your Red Robin hoodie? Tim’s surprised he isn’t keeling over. Two-

“See! Even our darling-” Tim’s brain short circuits. “Space Cadet can’t even defend your bullshit,” you laugh reaching over to Roz’s drink leaning a little too close to Tim’s face. He can almost feel the heat radiating off your skin.

If I lean in just a little more, I could probably…

“It isn’t bullshit!”

“You’re right! Bullshit has more substance-”

“Sooooo, what’s with all the space nicknames for Tim? When do I get one?” Steph asks casually, popping another of Tim’s fries into her mouth.

Has he even eaten any of his fries? It’s almost gone and he’s eaten at most one.

You choke making a pained noise, likely due to said carbonated drink going into your nostrils (and possibly your lungs), as you turn away. Your neck visibly red from where Tim is sitting. Based on the sparkle in Steph’s eyes, she can see it too. A manic grin spreads on Roz’s face wide enough that Tim legitimately worries that it’ll split her face wide open. A shrill sort of giggle escapes her which has you whipping your head to her direction to scowl at her. It does absolutely nothing to deter the sheer glee on her face as she sneers back to you. Some secret conversation passes between the two of you. Tim and Steph watch in slow motion as mortification creeps on to your face.

Suddenly (not really), Tim’s thankful that his only sister is practically a saint. At least compared to the horror that is Roz.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, you have a plethora of space-themed nicknames for him when you aren’t busy calling him whatever endearingly aggravating name Steph came up with that week.

Cosmo

Space Case

Space Nuts

Rocket Man

Martian Manhunter

Marvin (the Martian)

And your favorite, Cosmonaut.

At first, he figures it was because of his obsession love for Star Wars and Star Trek but no, that couldn’t be it since you had started calling him that long before you two ended up marathoning the entirety of Star Trek instead of working on your project. He can still remember just how engrossed you looked while watching as you hugged your knees to your chest leaning forward as you waited for the next episode to start up with bated breath. Your features highlighted by the glow of the laptop screen making it very easy for Tim to memorize the contours and angles of your expression. Yet another moment Tim really wanted to capture with a photo. You even did your mouth twitch thing without noticing.

He really wanted to just keep an entire album of all the different expressions you made. Wait. That sounds weird. Does it sound weird? It probably does.

Then again, maybe you called him those because of just how much of a weirdo he was. He couldn’t blame you if you did. But he found that highly unlikely. Sure, you can be mean at times (a lot of times) but you were too oblique for that. Years in customer service made sure of that. Your jabs were usually of the subtler, more needling variety. The type that makes you pause for too long. Plus, you said every nickname with a fondness that made his heart skip a beat. It was like when you called Roz or Steph ‘Fucker’. Maybe a little warmer. Or he could just be imagining that. Probably. Hopefully not. It was hard to get the honey-sweet way you said them out of his head.

Maybe they were just jabs. Lighthearted one. They could have just had easily been comments on just how much he spaced out. Tim has a tendency to live in his own head and it shows especially when he’s stressed or tired or both. Sometimes he would completely shut down as a result of excess anxiety. He can still remember the number of times he had let his anxieties run rampant letting them drag him away from the moment. His breaths were too quick to back then. He felt like he was gonna faint but then you just smiled at him like you were there for him which as it turned out you were. You gently squeezed each segment of his fingers until his breaths slowed. Even when he did fully calm down, you didn’t relinquish his hand. You held them firmly in your own even as you looked entirely unsure of what to do and what to say. You didn’t whisper the usual ‘you’re ok’ or the classic ‘you’ll be fine’. No, you just sat there with him quietly. Letting his feelings ebb and flow as he needed them to.

Tim really isn’t sure what he did to deserve even knowing someone like you but he would do it again and again if it meant being able to stick close to you.

Roz, ever the agent of chaos, throws a conspiratorial smile around the table like a flail. You look like you’ve been hit by one.

“Sorry, Steph. You won’t get one,” she says glancing at you. Steph pouts before she and Tim follow Roz’s gaze expecting you to glower or snarl or get up to deck her. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. You just kind of sit there frozen and mortified with a face that simply says ‘Oh. God. This is happening.’. All you can really do is mouth a ‘fuck you’. This obviously pleases Roz. Say what you will about Roz, but there is abso-fucking-lutely no denying that she is petty as hell when it comes to revenge. Nothing is sacred to this woman. Nothing.

“Why’s that?” Steph asks innocently, smiling around her bendy straw also enjoying this rare chance to torment you.

“I’m so glad you asked!” Roz answers her voice twisting into a horrifying facsimile of a daytime talk show host. You peel your arm away from the backrest and place your arms over your head and neck as you do in an earthquake drill bracing for impact. By the way, you were shaking, you’d think there was an actual earthquake. Your reasoning can’t be that stupid.

“My dear Stephanie-” Steph scrunches her nose at the overly sweet tone Roz lathers on her name but makes no move to interrupt. “(y/n) only uses space-related nicknames for people they think are- and I quote- ‘waaaaaay outta their league’,” You let out a pained groan and Steph’s face unfurls as she lets out the loudest snort, loud enough to draw the attention of several tables around them.

Tim’s mind is still reeling, still trying to process what Roz just said.

Him?

Out of your league?

Excuse him, isn’t it the other way around?

What the hell?

“Tim, for the love of Alfred, please unhear that,” you plead wetly, parking your head out just enough for Tim to see just how red your face has gotten. “God, please unhear it or I might just die,” Tim kind of didn’t doubt that you would. Steph somehow laughs even louder at this. Roz, not one to miss pouring salt in the wound, laughs along with her. You look like you wanted to implode out of existence. You could certainly try but Tim seriously doubts the universe is kind enough to let you escape.

Yeah, Tim’s brain has officially left the building. He’ll be back at 9 o’clock sharp tomorrow. Promise.

“You mean to tell me that-” Steph chokes, unable to control her laughing fit. “-You’re telling me that you’ve been watching them pine for each other for over a year now and you just let them?!” Steph wheezes still holding her stomach.

Roz looks offended and makes a whiny little noise. “Weeeell, technically I offered to wingman-”

“YOU WERE GONNA CHARGE ME FIFTY BUCKS,”

“Hey, matchmaking is hard,”

“It isn’t worth fifty bucks!”

“You’re right! It is worth so much more,”

“God, I hate you,” you groan into the table.

“God can’t help you now, kid,”

Tim frowns, mind backtracking to dissect the information. Apparently, his brain decided to clock back in.

They knew. Even Roz ‘I don’t give a shit what you do as long as it doesn’t affect me’ Andrada, noticed. Was he that obvious?

A year? Wait. No. Over a year. They knew about this for over a year.

Lastly, what do you mean each other?! As in mutual? Mutual pining?

As if reading his thoughts, you ask “Wait… what do you mean each other?”

Roz blinks at you not entirely sure if you’re being funny. When you give her a look, she slumps back in her chair. “I’m related to a dumbass,”

“That you are. Speaking of dumbasses-” Steph whips her attention to Tim giving him a shit-eating grin.”-You said you were waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask (y/n) out, right?” Steph waves her hands doing jazz hands as she points at your still dumbstruck figure. She’s smiling as if she was the world’s best wingman at the moment.

Tim suppresses a groan. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured it,”

Roz reaches into her pocket and produces a lighter. Grabbing the last of Tim’s fries and lighting it. “There. Mood lighting. Do the thing.”

“Ah yes, because surely the scent of burning potatoes is gonna sweep (y/n ) off their feet,” Tim said flatly crossing his arms. He knows he’s definitely focusing on the wrong thing but as with all things it was easier to procrastinate. This is especially true when you’re afraid of the outcome.

Roz huffs, waving the fry to extinguish it and muttering something about beggars and choosers. “Trust me kid that isn’t hard to do. Besides, did you not hear the part where I quoted (y/n) about you being ‘outta their league’,” You open your mouth to protest but slam it shut when Roz gives you a lopsided grin looking like she had a mountain of dirt on you which she likely did. He was definitely thankful that she has never met his family. He’s pretty sure Gotham wouldn’t survive.

“How could I possibly be out of (y/n)’s league. I- I don’t- I mean- I’m not-”

Your body twists his way fast enough that he’s sure you either have whiplash or a twisted spine. Your eyes are set on him glowering as if he’d said something wrong. He’s pretty sure he didn’t although he did have a talent for putting his foot in his mouth. Your jaw is set tight, your teeth almost grind. He could see the tight hitch in your shoulders. He is 100% sure you’re going to deck him.

“Do you want it listed alphabetically or what?”

“What?”

“Structure it like an argumentative essay. Speak nerd.” Roz instructs, earning her the full force of your glare. Your face pinches even more. Maybe this was the part where you implode.

You suck in a calming breath before turning back to Tim.

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you are a fucking moron, and here’s why:” Taking another breath, you turn to face him fully your cheeks reddening but you press on either from pure unadulterated spite or determination.

“You quite literally co-run a multibillion-dollar corporation. You’ve been doing that since you were seventeen apparently. You know several languages and you are not only fluent but proficient. You’re well versed in an insane amount of fighting styles. You are the smartest dumbass I know-”

“Preach!” Steph jokes.

“-You can basically operate any machinery I put in front of you. I have no doubt you can Macgyver one up if you fucking wanted. You could hack into any system you want just as a joke. You could probably throw the entire global economy into the toilet just for shits and giggles. Need I go on?”

Tim looks at you wide-eyed and speechless. You shrink a little as he continues to gape at you but you keep looking him in the eyes daring him to refute your claims. Really what was there to say? As much as he wants to come up with something witty to snap back at you, his chest is too crowded with warmth from the absolute sincerity of your voice. He knows you didn’t set out to make him fall deeper in love with you but he feels like he’s in free fall with your gravity pulling him downwards. Tim can feel the heat rising to the tips of his ears.

You shrink again, your mouth twitching. “I-” Another calming breath. “I said too much. But my point stands!” The infinitesimal gap he felt between the two of you practically vanished. Still, he could do nothing but stare. Words fail him in the most inopportune moments even when you look so desperate for any kind of response. You swallow thickly looking like you think you’ve ruined everything when the fact was you haven’t. Quite the opposite really. Tim feels like he could take on the entirety of Gotham’s rogue gallery right now. Still, his brain was drawing a blank.

“Mood,” His brain has short-circuited and is now beyond repair. His palm is in his face before he even sees your reaction. You give him an entire speech about how great he is and all he can say is ‘mood’. Looking over at Steph and seeing her phone on her hands, he can tell she’s already transcribing the events to the group chat. Well, It can’t get any worse.

You giggle snort eyes slamming shut from the force of your laughter. Joy suffuses throughout your tense body, loosening your tense muscles. “Thank you for proving my point,” you say between gasps.

Tim falls victim to the infectious smile spreading on your face. He feels the warmth crowding his chest grow fuzzy.

Now’s your chance.

Tim takes a steadying breath. He rolls his shoulder back to straighten his posture. He waits for you to calm yourself a bit. When you do, he asks as confidently as he can “Are you free this Saturday?”

“No,”

Oh crap. He knew he screwed up. He feels cold seep into his feet.

You shake your head at his panic. “I work Saturday, ET,”

“Oh, I-”

“I have all of Sunday off though,” A hum of excitement spreads through his limbs. “Name your time,”

“9 AM?”

You give him a look roughly translating to ‘You aren’t going to lose sleep over a date, so help me’.

“11:30?” He corrects. You smile and hum seemingly making the oxygen in the atmosphere disappear. He finds that he doesn’t mind, not when he feels like he’s floating on zero gravity.

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

Bonus:

Steph: Tim’s a dumbass😌🙃

Damian: Thank you for stating the obvious, Brown.

Step: 🙄 Do you wanna hear about it or not?

Dick: 👀We’re listening…

Steph: (Y/n) made this whole speech about Tim and all Tim could say was 'mood' cycgu9c8ychic8td 5d8fcouv9ygpuv

Jason: F

Duke: F

Cass: F

Babs: F

Dick: F

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

Thanks for reading!!!!!

Taglist:

@idkmanicantenglish, @batarella, @batarella-mini, @birdy-bat-writes, @anothertimdrakestan, @founduebitches , @lucy-roo

#tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #tim drake #batboys #step brother #wingmanning is hard #batfam #red robin #dc fanfiction #dc x reader

190 notes · View notes

anthonyed · 4 years

Note

buckytony for “it’s cold, you should wear my jacket”? only if you’re still taking prompts !

Thank you for requesting, Ava! I hope you like this:) (from this list)

-//-

Bucky Barnes loves people.

He genuinely loves them; the way they interact, the way they act and react and all of their emotions especially their unsurmountable passion – Witnessing that in itself can be electrifying.

Secretly, Bucky wishes he could taste that much passion at least once.

Subconsciously, he seeks them out in people he’s around – Hoping even if it’s not his own, at least, someone would be kind enough to share theirs.

When he first tries to acclimatize to the ecosystem in the Avengers tower, he sticks a lot with Bruce because Bruce oozes tranquillity.

Bruce has weekly tea dates with Natasha, whom Bucky kinda remembers but also kinda doesn't. But since he's leaving all those memories behind and moving on, he doesn't wallow into that part of his past too much.

He joins them on their tea dates. Natasha later invites him for Yoga sessions and once Bucky is confident enough to be alone with her, he joins her.

They practice various poses for hours and at the end of each session, Bruce will pop in to lead them through meditation. Which is all good; a reliable system in the building if you ask for Bucky’s opinion.

But Natasha occasionally goes on missions and Bruce on some personal trips; sometimes both of their trips coincide and Bucky's left fending for himself.

These are the times when he pops out of his room, feet padding in the direction of boisterous laughter which comes from Sam Wilson and Clint Barton; resident's children.

They teach him how to play video games and curse in 21st century slang. He learns slurs and cuss words which he then practices on Steve for personal entertainment.

There's also Miss Potts who flutters in and out of their life like a hummingbird.

Bucky first meets her on an early Monday morning; sitting alone at the communal kitchen table talking to herself (which he later learns was to an earpiece).

She's thoughtful in a way that nobody else is.

She loudly complains about Tony Stark while jabbing at the coffee machine pointedly, making sure Bucky could see what she is doing - And he realises half-way through that she is teaching him how to operate the machinery without being obvious about it.

She's lovely; Bucky likes her very much.

He also likes Jim Rhodes, who is worse than Miss Hummingbird.

Who visits during the Memorial Day, gets stupid drunk trying to out drink Stevie then uses Bucky as his beanpole for the entire afternoon recounting all of his favourite military tales until he passes out.

Bucky doesn't mind; Colonel Rhodes smells nice under all the alcohol and he makes very funny jokes.

There’s also the fact that Tony Stark loves him very loudly and proudly.

Like Stevie, he thinks; Tony Stark is Colonel Rhodes’ Stevie (Or maybe it’s the other way around, Bucky needs more time to figure that one out.)

Harold 'Happy' Hogan catches Bucky stepping out of the tower one night and offers to drive him in one of Stark's long weiner cars. When Bucky says no thanks, he crooks a finger and shows him where the motorbikes are.

"Are you sure...?"

"As long as you don't crash," Happy tosses a set of keys and Bucky accepts it, reluctantly.

But the ride he gets that evening is both soul-shifting and addictive, and he feels more reluctant returning the key when it ends.

“Never mind,” Happy tells him, “These are accessible any time, just ask JARVIS for them.”

And Bucky thinks Happy is cool that way. So, when he's coming home from long rides then on, Bucky makes sure to grab burgers with extra fries for him. Happy likes them curly; Bucky remembers that too for him,

Bucky meets Tony Stark on the battle-field for the first time. Static, machine-modulated voice tells him to watch his "sexy six" and Bucky blushes three shades darker under the afternoon Sun.

Later, after long countless observations, Bucky learns Tony Stark flirts like he breathes; no intentions what-so-ever beneath his wicked tongue.

But Bucky's got a heart too tender just blooming out of ash like baby phoenix and he couldn't help but get deeply affected by each one of those passes Tony throws at him.

He blushes like a red rose in July; warm and pretty and everyone notices the weakened state of his knees.

From Bruce to Natasha to Stevie, Sam and Clint. Hell, even Happy and Miss Potts could see past his breastbone where his heart flutters out of control when Tony Stark is around.

Come Halloween, Colonel Rhodes passes through; staying for one night and in the span of less than five hours he's been around, he corners Bucky in the kitchen and asks him what his intentions are.

Bucky stutters through his response; even apologizes for his over-reaction to Tony Stark's meaningless flirtation.

But Jim Rhodes cocks his head right and squeezes his arm. He says if there is anyone he'd trust to make his Tony happy, then it would be: "You, Sergeant Barnes"

Colonel Rhodes flies early on November 1st, but his words stick long and hard in Bucky's brain for weeks on end.

Then one day, an idea strikes him.

He rolls out of the bed with a sense of urgency; sending texts to both Bruce and Tasha, apologizing for not being able to make it to today's tea session and he hops into the elevator; pulling his shoes on, one after another.

"The workshop please, Mister JARVIS," he requests.

He knows Tony's in. Heard him talking to Miss Potts this morning about clearing out his schedule and Bucky hopes with all of his beating heart that his plan wouldn't face any rejection from Tony.

Stepping into the shop, breathless from all the emotions boiling in his chest, Bucky blurts out: "Come out with me."

Tony stark; stunned behind his protective eyewear, arms bare through his singlet, drops the welding torch he's been manning with a loud clang.

"Now?" he asks.

Not 'Are you kidding me?' or 'No fucking way'; but, 'Now?' he asks while wiping his fingers on a cloth, looking ready to follow like he’s been waiting for Bucky to come around since ages ago.

Bucky grins at him. "Yeah," he nods, "It’s cold, you should wear my jacket." He tosses the extra pair he'd grabbed from his closet and Tony catches it with an ease and an amused grin.

“Your jacket, Sergeant? I could swoon.”

“Good,” Bucky says, watching him pull it on. “I was hoping you would.”

Ten minutes later, they're speeding on the freeway on one of Tony's bikes; late Autumn breeze licking where their skins are uncovered, and it's freezing cold. But Bucky could only taste the warmth from Tony’s body plastered against him; his arms, tight and securely locked around his midriff. Like bursts of sunlight in a snow-storm.

They stop for dinner at one of the diners Bucky had been to twice before - could vouch for their food - and he's more than glad when Tony wipes his plate clean with the last fry.

When he packs for Happy like he usually does, Tony watches him with a curious kind of softness in his brown eyes; so, Bucky shares their little story with him.

On their way back home, they pull over at the side of the freeway that’s shaving the top of a small hill overlooking a neighbourhood and it’s guarded by a long silver railing which Tony hops over; waits for Bucky to follow with his hand out-reached for taking.

Bucky grabs it; clutches onto like a lifeline, at the same time, a fragile china, and they shuffle down the grassy slope; mouths split in wide grins, chuckles bursting out of seams and when Tony comes to a stop somewhere in the middle, Bucky does too.

"It's not always you get to see stars," Tony says, fingers tangled with Bucky’s like he wants to be and he's beautiful; eyes cast skyward, wonder glimmering in their warmth, lips curved in a soft angle -

He looks like the star itself has descended to earth; burning bright before Bucky's eyes and - Jesus Roosevelt Christ. What kind of heaven is that? Bestowed on Bucky, like a blessing beyond any worth and he doesn't know what to do with himself right then.

You leave me breathless: he longs to say. You make me feel blessed beyond what I deserve, make me feel more than I know I ever could and it would be my goddamn honour to love you, I swear - Would be my Goddamn fucking honour to love you, sweetheart.

But he doesn't say all that; would have choked on his tongue before he could even manage half of them out, so he swallows his spit and watches Tony watch the stars until his swollen heart explodes into confetti rain in its cage and -

And then, Bucky breathes; inhales lungs full of cold air prickling like icicles throughout his chest – shuddering, and when Tony looks down from the night sky at him, Bucky cups his jaw with trembling fingers and strokes his cheek with a thumb.

"You drive me insane," he tells him. "But you also keep me sane.”

“You’re like Bruce with his tea and Tasha with her Yoga. You’re what Sam and Clint describe how they feel when they play video games, or how Stevie says drawing makes him feel. You make my heart hop a mile like a bunny rabbit but also soothe me like balm, and if that’s how it feels to be passionate in life, then you’re my reason why.”

The stars blink up in the sky, the sound of the traffic along with the bone chilling November breeze witness Bucky empty his soul for Tony to take in the middle of a hill slope, somewhere upstate.

But Tony, he's silent; for the first time since Bucky had known him, he's holding his tongue. And Bucky wishes he doesn't.

Wishes, he would say something; anything at all. Or he would smile, or grin, and let Bucky taste passion for the first time from his tongue - One that is his own for a change, not someone else's.

But neither happens; nothing happens.

Tony doesn't say a word or show any signs of either acceptance or rejection; even if his breath catches in a sharp inhale exactly one time and he presses his hand over Bucky’s on his face.

But neither could count in the face of how violently Bucky had cleaved his gut open for Tony that night.

They get on the road again soon after and Bucky's skin starts to itch from growing worries; wondering if he’d crossed a fine line between them because Tony's silence is eating him alive.

He stays pressed close to Bucky’s back for their entire ride home; hands locked tight over Bucky’s midriff and somewhere in the middle, Bucky feels the heat of Tony's cheek through his leather jacket; pressed between his shoulder blades, injecting trickles of hope into his spine.

When they reach the city and later the tower; when Bucky pulls into the garage and turns off the engine, neither of them gets off the bike.

For Bucky, he pretends the journey's still not over so he could savour the warmth plastered onto his back just a little while longer.

As for Tony, Bucky finds out why he’s staying when the locked arms around his waist breaks and one of the hands wander upwards; coming to rest over where Bucky’s heart trips and races; the prickling sensation along his nape doubling and he stops breathing all at once.

When he does inhale, his spine bones shudder from the forceful way he sucks in a breath. Evidently feeling the tremor, Tony chuckles close to his ear and tells him to, “Take it easy, James. I’m trying to feel if you’ve told me the truth, or made up a beautiful lie.”

A giddy exhale escapes Bucky’s chest in a soft puff air. Feeling suddenly bold just from that statement, he leans back into Tony’s hold and presses his own hand on top of his.

And he savours the silence along with the sweet scent of Tony tinged with metal and grease, and Bucky could swear, he feels Tony’s heartbeat through the layers of their clothes. From behind their ribs and flesh and through their lungs, and it feels like the meat of their hearts have merged into one; singing to the same symphony in the womb of their home.

Later, once the tune has sunk into his marrow, Bucky quietly asks, “What’s the verdict, sweetheart?”

Their hands still lay, combined over Bucky’s chest and it’s heaven to be this close with someone you ache for – Bucky knows. He never forgets to count his blessings these days; he just hopes that this one never finds its end at all.

If he could whisper a wish into the air, he’d ask God to let them stay this way forever. But this goes both ways, and Bucky may be selfish but he’s not entirely cruel; he wouldn’t subject Tony to what he doesn’t want.

So, he gives him another out; prods, “Am I a liar or am I not?”, when Tony doesn’t answer him the first time around.

But Tony seems to desire what Bucky wants – Which. What a miracle is that?

He says, “Shh, James Barnes. Let’s just stay like this longer,” and Bucky’s poor heart, in all of its new born tenderness; speckles of ash still present from when it was reborn like a phoenix - Finally, finds its wings and soars high.

#buckytony #winteriron #mine #*fingers crossed* i hope you like this #thank you for the help may #prompts

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dreamcatcherjiah · 3 years

Text

Part 9

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

Part 9

A/n: Here is part 9!!! With this part, I’ve come to realise that guilt does play a nice part in the creative process, lool. It’s taken me centuries to get to a point where I felt like writing at all, I can hardly believe I managed to take this chapter into the four thousand word mark! I hope you guys like it. It is not so much where I wanted it to be, but I’m getting there!

Love you guys and I missed you a lot!🖤

As consciousness was claiming you back, your heart settled in your chest with a feeling of contentment and happiness you hadn’t felt before. Hoseok’s arm was flung over your waist and his hand was moving against your spine in soft caresses. You hadn’t moved from the position you fell asleep in and, waking up but still with your eyes closed, you could feel his soft breath against your eyelashes. Your heart jumped in your chest as his arms tightened against you, snuggling you closer to his chest. With a smile, you slung your own arm over Hoseok’s ribcage and settled your head in against his throat. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed you again.

You heard Hoseok’s little yelp before you actually opened your eyes. He tensed for a second and tried prying his arm from under your neck. He was making small distressed noises trying not to wake you up but achieving totally the opposite; make you laugh. It started slow, as a small chuckle at the back of your throat that escalated into a full giggle when you opened your eyes and saw his startled expression. His eyes were open wide and his mouth was hanging open forming a heart-shaped half smile that began morphing into a full grin the longer you laughed. Instinctively, you tightened your arms around his torso and hid your face against his chest to try and calm yourself.

“And here I thought you were going to flip and send me flying from the bed,” he laughed, draping himself back around you and settling back in the bed with you in his arms.

“I haven’t felt happier than I am feeling now, I don’t ever want to let you go,” you whispered, more relaxed than you remembered ever being, letting out a calming sigh as you looked up at his smiling face, “I do know this feeling is the bond messing with our pheromones but I just don’t want it to end.”

His smile grew the biggest you had ever seen it and he dropped a kiss to your forehead. Laying back down on the bed, the both of you spent the morning talking about your lives, how you had started feeling each other through the bond at such an early age. Hoseok told you many things about his grandmother, how she had been the one to break the news of the bond to him when he was not older than two. He could still remember, he told you with a wistful smile, how the old woman would cuddle him to her chest and create new stories for him, how she would, as he grew older, talk about her meeting with Hoseok’s grandfather through the Red String of Fate.

“You must have been fascinated by those stories,” you whispered, while your hand absentmindedly drew patterns over his chest, with your head moving up and down as he drew breaths and exhaled, “I can just imagine a little Hobi smiling and listening to her telling him fairytales.”

He startled and turned his head so he could look at you. A small frown was present on his features and you wanted nothing more than touch it with your fingers and make it disappear.

“Well, not so much fairytales, since we know for a fact it is real, don’t you think?” That settled the mood into something more sombre than when you woke up. All the things, all the meetings and responsibilities waiting for you outside that room rushed to the forefront of both your minds and the blissfulness dulled to a warm sense of wellbeing around your heart. “I can’t believe how comfortable I feel with you, just like this. Do you think it has to do with us sleeping together?” He asked and you watched as his features morphed into mortification when he realised how the words that just left his lips may have sounded, “I only… I meant sleeping— as in, you know, just sleeping… no, hugging you in your sleep— wait, no, that sounds creepy… you know—.”

You giggled against his chest just as you had done that same morning as you woke up. He was an adorable mess when he was flustered.

“I do know what you mean,” you responded, deciding to take him out of his misery, “in fact, that’s what I wanted to tell you last night, but my brain was too fried to form a coherent thought.”

“Is your brain okay now?” He asked, looking intently at your head, as if the answer would somehow just jump out of it and he wouldn’t have to look you in the eye.

Pushing against his chest to get into a more comfortable position, you rested your head in your hand and watched as he changed his position, half laying, half sitting against he headboard with an arm supporting his head. His other arm, as if neither of you noticed, was still resting on your shoulder blade, drawing small patterns.

“My brain is much clearer now,” you smirked, “mind you, it still thinks you’re extremely hot and can’t stop thinking scenarios, but I can control it,” only seeing how red his ears got made you regret having spoken too freely. After all, you two were still strangers, you were a fan at that and that kind of comments were highly inappropriate in any sort of situation. “Too soon?” You asked, avoiding his eyes, which wasn’t too difficult to do as he was busy himself examining the pristine ceiling as if he would find a blemish there if he focused intently enough.

With a huff, he scoffed and tightened the hold of his arm around your shoulder. “No, it’s just— I think the bond is producing the same thoughts both ways…”

That sure was an effective way to shut you up. You left your head fall from where your hand was supporting it and felt how Hoseok’s heart hammered against his ribcage on your cheek as it lay on his chest. With the way he was behaving, you would have bet and lost on him not being as affected as you were by the bond. It was time you admitted that the bond went through both of you, it would be the fastest way to get used to it and stop feeling awkward every time something escaped your mind.

“Hey,” he called, lifting your face from its hiding place and placing another sweet kiss on your forehead, “I can feel you getting ashamed and I’m not going to let you, okay?” His eyes were completely focused on yours, no trace of that semi-permanent blush that had been there since your first meeting, “We’re in this together, we’re both learning and it’s gonna take it’s sweet time, but just think about it. One day, we’ll be comfortable together, it will feel as if it’s the most natural thing to wake up in each other’s arms, even if it doesn’t now, okay?”

“It does feel like the most natural thing in the world…” you whispered, too shy to voice your thoughts aloud.

“What does?” Hoseok asked, making his lips turn into a small pout with his confusion.

Battling your shame and feeling how your cheeks got hotter and hotter as the blood rushed around in your ears, you wondered what he would do if you lied, if you made something up, other than what you had actually said. His eyes were still wide open, looking straight at you, and maybe that was it, or maybe was the way his body fit perfectly with yours and how your always screaming rational side had chosen that specific moment to shut up and bask in the wellness your soulmate was radiating to you. It may have been a spur-of-the-moment thing, but you told him the absolute truth.

“Waking up in your arms,” you answered while looking him straight in the eyes.

They got even wider as his brain registered the new bombshell you had decided to drop on him and then, they traveled all over your face as if they were looking for any sign of you lying. Obviously, he couldn’t find a lie anywhere, everything you’d said was the pure, even if a bit embarrassing, truth. Then his eyes dropped to your lips and the temperature in the room rose to an unbearable extreme. Your heart, somehow dormant after the relaxing morning, did a somersault in your chest and started beating at an alarming speed, pumping blood to every crevice of your body, alerting you of every movement of your soulmate’s body, the way his breathing had also increased and he seemed unable to let go of you, bringing you closer and closer to him as the seconds ticked away. If you hadn’t been paying attention to him, you may have missed the way his pupils dilated and almost covered all the deep brown surrounding them, the way his mouth slightly opened as if the wind had been knocked out of him and the only thing he could do was try to breath. Your bodies were melting into the mattress, a mess of taut muscles and electric shocks, intertwined and beating in unison. In the back of your head you could feel a warning, something telling you that you would regret whatever happened if you gave yourselves to the bond. You would later thank him for his kindness in dealing with your messy feelings in the moment, but when his words were uttered, a frustrated sigh left your lips.

“Y/N…” he exhaled, his breath ghosting over your cheeks and sending a shiver down your spine, “Y/N, take a deep breath. Close your eyes, focus on…” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “breathing.”

Listening to his voice, you followed his instructions and turned your head away from his face. The situation had nearly gotten out of hand and you should thank your lucky stars he at least had kept some of his mind working, because the mortification that would have come out of such situation could have lasted for longer than you cared to admit. Both his hands were going up and down your back and he was whispering to himself to get his act together. You focused on his voice. Only his voice and rested your head on his shoulder looking away from him.

Little by little, sanity came back to you. As soon as Hoseok felt your uneasiness, his hold on you tightened and his hands stilled on your waist; he wouldn’t allow you to feel ashamed of what had happened. You could feel determination and affection coming out of him in waves and you decided right there and then that you would give back just as much.

“Let’s do something,” his voice, still affected, whispered into the shell of your ear, “we go at our own pace, okay? Let’s go with what it feels right for both of us.”

You smiled. Somehow he had voiced one of the hundred thoughts going around in your head: is this going too fast? He was right, you had to admit. What may be fast for the rest of the world, felt like a walk in the park for a pair of soulmates; the emotional connection was a given with the likes of you and, if the episode you experimented minutes before was anything to go by, the physical connection was there as well. The only thing missing was knowing him. Really knowing him. And he had gauged your reaction to him to perfection.

“We don’t have to answer to anyone else,” he kept saying, getting more and more relaxed, “as long as you and I are okay, then that’s all I want.”

Not needing an answer, he hugged you to his chest once more and kissed the crown of your head. He untangled himself from the mess of sheets and walked into the bathroom. It looked like the small bubble you had been enjoying most of the morning was about to burst. You rolled until your head was resting on Hoseok’s pillow and, with his scent surrounding you and overwhelming all your senses, you felt how your brain began to go back to normal. Something had clicked into place that night while you slept next to him. Your head, the rational you, that had been screaming bloody murder the prior night, completely refusing to loose its independence, had somehow recognised Hoseok as something good and essential to you. Your mind was now completely blank, not even registering the fact that Hoseok had moved away from you, the furthest you’d been since you met last night, and neither of you had even flinched.

You sat on the bed and stretched, your muscles relieving tension that had been building for years but that now was useless. Looking around, you saw your bag resting against a bookshelf next to the window and didn’t even think twice before getting up and going to get it. You were reaching down to lift it from the floor when the door to the bathroom opened and you pivoted only to see a still-wet Hoseok jumping on one foot as he tried to straighten his shirt with only one sock on.

“Oh! Are you okay?” You asked, worried he might have fallen in the shower and hurt himself or something, not even realising you would have felt or heard something if that was the case.

“I just—” he groaned as his knee nocked against the corner of the bed as he hastily approached you, “I was completely fine until I felt you moving away and I just… moved,” he looked incredibly confused, with his shirt now on and both socks in place, his hands were on his hips as his eyes shot daggers at the bed, “I didn’t even realise I could stand away from you until I could only think to get back to you.”

You smiled. The sweetness of his puzzlement moved you to the core. He was so fast to reassure you and yet, he walked on eggshells whenever he thought he might be overstepping his boundaries with you. Again, you were going to make sure he felt just how much you appreciated everything he had done for you since you met.

“Do you trust me?” You repeated your words from last night, making his head turn to you like lightning and his eyes analyse everything about you with a calculating focus that made you suddenly realise how intimidating it was to be the sole focus of Jhope’s attention. Carefully, he nodded but still his eyes didn’t stray away from you.

Without even thinking, you travelled the length of the room in two strides and threw your arms around is waist, your ear right above his heart and your hands resting lightly on his back. The sudden wave of euphoria you were expecting didn’t come, just like a mere shudder of warm honey bathing your skin, the familiarity that was already Hoseok didn’t phase you a bit. He chuckled and drove his arms around you as well, his hand caressing your hair and settling there, basking in the feeling of being together.

“It doesn’t feel invasive now, does it?” You asked, your bodies swaying side to side, “like you said before, our own time, Hoseok.”

“I love it when you say my name like that,” his voice sounded less affected than you’d ever heard it, you were wondering. He followed, “do you want to shower before breakfast? We’re supposed to be at BigHit in three hours, how do you feel about brunch?” If the mention of the impending meeting at his company phased you before, it didn’t even register as something negative in your mind now. He’d be with you.

“I think I’ll grab a shower before we leave, it’s a bit warm in here and I don’t want to shower twice if I sweat…” he nodded, tapping your head with his chin in the process, “and brunch sounds heavenly! I’m quite a bit hungry.”

As if on queue, both your stomachs growled at the same time, prompting the both of you into yet another round of giggles. If your future was going to be anything like this first morning, you were ready to laugh next to this man.

The kitchen was in pristine condition. If you didn’t know for a fact that seven men lived in the apartment you could have sworn that kitchen just came out of an IKEA catalogue. You sat on one of the chairs while Hoseok moved about between cupboards and counters. He was making salad and pulling huge containers out of the freezer. Cutting some kimchi and preparing some rice. If your calculations were right, that was too much food for only two people, but it was his house, his kitchen and his food, you weren’t about to contradict him. Maybe you could finish all that food, you were nearly starving after all.

So focused you were on ogling how he moved about the kitchen, with his hair getting fluffier as it dried, that you didn’t notice the sound of feet approaching the kitchen or some chairs being occupied next to you. You were forced out of your daydreaming by someone cleaning their throat to your right.

Turning in your seat, you were startled to find Kim Namjoon sitting next to you, his elbow on the table and his chin resting on his hand, imitating your same position. Were you really looking at Hoseok looking like that? Mortifination, here I come, you thought.

“How are you feeling this fine morning, miss Y/N?” He asked. He didn’t seem to be joking, even if his words may look like it, his eyes were serious and he sat, patiently waiting for you to answer. Looking around the kitchen, you noticed that Seokjin and Yoongi had also entered the kitchen and were busy pretending not to be paying attention at your conversation with Namjoon while preparing coffee and some kind of omelet. Hoseok wasn’t even being subtle at it and just smiled at you encouragingly only to turn and scoop a good amount of rice into a pink bowl. With a slight tilt of your head, you greeted them, thinking that introductions were long overdue but not knowing how get them out of the way without looking awkward. You decided to hold onto the lifeline Namjoon had thrown you and, looking back to him and finding him in the same position, smiled and answered his question.

“I am great, thank you very much,” your shaky smile turned into a genuine smile just as his did, and his dimples showed up, “Hoseok has been wonderful and I feel rested for the first time in years.”

A windshield boast of laughter interrupted the quiet calm of the kitchen as Seokjin threw his arm around hoseok and ruffled his hair.

“Did you all hear that? She calls him Hoseok and he’s been wonderful!” His laughter was contagious and even Yoongi ended up laughing along with the three of you as he settled in the chair across from yours. Hoseok brought over all the food and placed some of it under a small umbrella, for the little ones when they wake up, he told you. The four of you did a faster job of the food than you could have imagined. Apparently after Hoseok and you retired for the night, the rest of them had had a few celebratory drinks and had woken up hangover and hungry.

“It’s always like this, Y/N,” was telling you Yoongi, becoming quickly comfortable with you as Hoseok found more and more in common between the two of you, “we wake up early after we drink, make huge amounts of food and then, when the other three finish polishing up the plates, they clean. A nice symbiosis we’ve got here,” he finished, chuckling along with you at the image of the other three members of BTS finishing off the huge dishes the other four had set aside for them.

“Now, let’s talk business,” started Jin, after sharing a meaningful look with Namjoon, “what are we going to do with BigHit?”

Silence reigned in the kitchen then. You felt Hoseok tensing beside you and immediately relax. His feelings were a mess of nervousness, anticipation and apprehension, but on the outside he was calm and collected.

“Bang PD was okay with me having a soulmate, we’ll just go and talk to them, the PR team as well. But they should know things are changing. Y/N is here to stay,” he said as his hand got a hold of yours under the table. You had a feeling his brothers noticed but none of them did anything but nod at Hoseok’s words, as if taking it as fact.

“All of us will be there with you, of course,” was saying Namjoon, drinking his Americano with a metallic straw that reflected the light from the windows into your eyes. The whole thing looked just surreal to you, sitting in the kitchen table with Seokjin, Namjoon, Yoongi and your Soulmate Hoseok. How had your life turned into this? You wouldn’t know, “Y/N’s part of the family now. Someone will have to wake up Jimin, Tae and JK, but we’ll be ready to go when you guys are. I just need to know how many cars we’ll be needing to text Sejin.”

The other three seemed used to this complete 180 degree personality change, from the Namjoon who nearly stabbed his eye with the straw, to Kim Namjoon, RM, leader of BTS. You, on the other hand, were getting whiplash.

Sensing it, even before you did, Hoseok moved your hands from under the table and placed a light kiss on yours. His eyes connected with yours and as if he was speaking out loud for the whole house to hear, you heard his whisper: “This is normal, Y/N. I’m here, okay?”

You nodded. You just needed some time to get used to the new life thrown in front of you. You prided yourself in being a fast learner and quick to adapt to new situations. You would just have to floor it and get used to it faster.

As if you needed something else to get used to, just as Hoseok was lowering your hands back to the table, another pair of feet were heard entering the kitchen, followed by a sleepy Jimin, rubbing his face. His eyes glossed over the kitchen, seemingly taking notice of the people there and realising there was one too many.

“Hey Y/N, I’m very glad to see you looking alive again! I got very worried yesterday! I’m gonna like having you around! Please tell me there’s some mul-naengmyeon left!”

He examined the dishes as if nothing had happened wishfully ignorant to your wide eyes and the way your legs were hammering a whole into the marble floor. The older men were found in varying degrees of amusement at your nervousness, but all of them found it hilarious. It was Jin who, this time, took pity of you and smiling brightly, set a piece of kimchi in your spoonful of rice.

“That’s our Jiminnie for you, very excitable!”

Smiling, Hoseok pushed you up to your feet and reminded you to take that shower you were talking about earlier. He tidied up both your places on the table and, promising to come back quickly so you could leave for the company, he guided your shocked self back to his room. He stopped to check one on the rooms in the hallway, telling someone to get ready fast and to wake the maknae while they were still ahead of schedule, continuing later on his way. Once inside of his room, he produced a nice pair of jeans and a huge orange hoodie from one of the drawers and, putting them in your hands, gently guided you to the bathroom and smiled at you, closing the door behind you.

SOOO, WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK? TOO FAST? TOO SLOW? SHOULD I RETIRE?🥴

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list.

Love 💜🌙

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 16

First time reader click here

Summary/TWs: Trouble is brewing. Canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of wounds and Clint whump. Bad, terrible, no-good medical accuracy. Aliens. Reader is an anxious genius with low self-esteem and PTSD. ✨spicy sadness✨

From now on, chapters will be posted un-beta-ed. She's taking a lil break. 💖💝✨

I liked to think I had made peace with the fact that my boys and girls had one hell of a dangerous job. Natasha, Clint, Steve and Bucky frequently left for missions and while I missed their usual bickering in the background, it wasn't like the tower's common room became absolutely quiet. The fact that they mostly did recon-only missions helped, too, as they would come home unharmed and in one piece. The worry was there but subtle - like setting the table and including silverware for the people who were gone on a mission.

Peter's patrols went less smoothly, usually. He was small and even in his spider-suit, the boy was frequently underestimated by common thugs. Apparently, they didn't know how to read the news - it was blatantly obvious the hero was enhanced. And yet somehow, Pete more often than not sported all sorts of bruises, scratches and tears.

Tony and I routinely tore out our hair over the spiderboy's carelessness. The engineer had a funny way of showing he cared for Peter. Once I got to know him better, my brain dubbed them as Irondad and Spiderson. And it wasn't weird at all, somehow, that I was basically fucking my best friend's dad. Tony never made me uncomfortable, if anything, he went to great lengths to accommodate my whims. Tony continuously found time for me, answered my dumb questions and soldiered through the shenanigans I got up to after having too much caffeine and too little sleep.

Sitting in the quiet, empty common room was unnerving. It was shortly after dinner time - the evening news skipped their usual political debate in favour of the battle that was raging downtown, the reason for my headache and wrung hands.

I missed Tony's running mouth. The aliens the team was fighting looked quite hilarious, murderous intentions aside, and I could only imagine the way Tony and Clint would mock them. Hentai rejects. Tentacle porn knock-offs. The aliens were squid-like, about half the size of a human and very, very slippery, from what I spied on the TV.

An irritated-looking Stephen had me equal parts apprehensive and drooling - one after another, he conjured up a series of small portals, teleporting the aggressive octopods only god knew where. It would have looked incredibly badass if not for the exhausted sheen of sweat I could see on his brow, even despite the camera footage being shaky and grainy.

The news footage showed Tony - Iron Man, soaring contentedly through the darkening skies and taking out the squirmy mass of tentacles with his plasma beam repulsors. Steve and Bucky and Loki appeared too, sporadically, being well-oiled murder machines. Nothing new.

Yet, I worried. The little worm of doubt was squirming full-force. I tried to ignore it, yet pacing, sitting and playing Candy Crush got me nowhere. I pestered Friday to order pizza, the team's usual post-mission order plus a large one for me - stress-eating was better than stress-popping-molly in a tower full of superheroes. It took some courage to admit to myself I'd gotten attached enough to be this much from running away from all that in a blind panic.

And it would be the best option for them, really, because they had much sensible things to worry about than me. Yet every time, my selfishness won against even the most logical arguments I presented. I hated fighting myself but it was all I did - not only I was in love with Tony, I loved him.

Even when he forgot about my existence for five days, to emerge from his workshop with a new piece of tech that revolutionised one or another or something else. I loved him when he annoyed the ever living fuck out of everybody, me included, because I knew that it was hilarious to see people getting riled up over totally trivial shit. I loved Tony Stark when he ran away from his feelings, and everybody else's, because he never managed to run far enough. Or he didn't want to. I loved him, because he was like a multilayered puzzle, complex and captivating and beautiful.

I thought a lot about it, more than people would have noticed. For someone as selfish and goal-oriented as me, Tony lived in my head rent-free most of the time. And nobody would find out if I had the choice because let's face it, I'm a short cameo in his life. I'm a fuckin' catch and even then, I can't expect to hold his attention forever. His genius is too brilliant to settle for one when he could easily have the whole damn world.

Another hour consisted of me pacing and accompanying the pizza delivery boys to the common floor. It was hilarious - they were obviously star-struck about walking the same carpet as their heroes. I could see the faint hope of meeting one of the Avengers in their eyes, their posture. All they got was me - in my sweatpants, Tony's tee and no bra. My tits got the attention they deserved, at least.

My lounging was interrupted by a golden circle noisily appearing in the middle of the room, followed by Clint abruptly falling through it with a pained moan. I froze, the pizza in my mouth turning to ash - Strange poked his head through the hole in space, finding my eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Help him, I don't have much time," He breathed and disappeared, closing the portal behind himself.

The pizza piece flew back in the box as I stumbled, jumped over the headrest, kneeling beside Clint in no time. "Bird, tell me what hurts," I demanded. Not that I had a clue what to do. I mean, I knew basic first aid and...

"My leg," He gritted out, curling in on himself. Fear flooded me, limbs turning to lead. Hawk had a good pain tolerance, I knew he could break an arm and not utter a single syllable until he thought it safe to showcase his vulnerability. "That squid motherfucker stung me, I don't know. My whole body is on fire," His speech was slurred.

I nodded, deciding to limit the touching to only the necessary actions. The leg of his pants was torn and the wound itself was shaped like a whip mark, thin and red and angry. It oozed a yellowish pus-like substance, it smelled bitter, almost like stale water and seaweed salad. I didn't know much about aliens but jellyfish stings, I could work with. A short Google check later, I had an approximate plan.

"Friday, run diagnostics." I ordered, taking a deep breath and filing away the fear, the panic and anxiety for later.

"Mr. Barton has a wound that appears to be contaminated with an unknown chemical that is causing an adverse reaction. The elevated body temperature suggests that his immune system is fighting it. I would suggest a blood test to examine the offending specimens."

A blood draw? I could do that. I definitely, absolutely, could do that.

"Bird, Clint, did you hear that?" I gently touched his shoulder only for him to recoil from my hand, muttering unintelligibly. "Pretty bird, I'm going to help you. Let me." My bedside manner needed improvement - with brain running a mile a minute, I babbled utter nonsense as Friday directed me to the needed supplies. Getting the blood was a feat on it's own - I had to physically sit on top of Clint to get but a tiny vial of the red liquid.

A few tears escaped the emotional fortress I had to build within myself. Clint was in so, so much pain - pain I was inadvertently making worse by touching him. I sprinted to Bruce's lab, feeding the sample to be analysed by Friday, tearing through the room in a hurricane. First aid kit, IV, saline, antibiotics. Restraints, too, just in case.

"Analysis complete. The contaminant appears to be acting similarly to a parasitic infection with a short life-span. Primarily feeds on copper, iron and various metals contained in the human body. Does not appear to reproduce or multiply, my algorithms cannot determine the cause of said behaviour. Calculating..." Friday's mechanical voice paused. "I have calculated the approximate duration of Mr. Barton's symptoms. Onset of critical stage in one to three hours. Complete extinction of parasitic organisms in approximately sixty hours."

"Fri, do you think I have a chance of saving Clint before he goes crazy from pain? And have you figured out what's causing it?" My brain was all over the place.

"I have the best faith in you, miss." The AI sounded almost... Comforting? "I am still running multiple diagnostics. My algorithms suggest the organisms may be attacking the nerve endings - reason unclear."

An idea struck me. A crazy, brash, absurd idea. The pathogen was alien and we didn't have antibiotics to kill it. Even if I gave Clint some sort of medicine, it could go awry really really quickly. Besides, wasn't there a medical team for this..?

"Friday, alert the medical suite."

"Request denied. Per Mr. Stark's protocols, only Sir himself and Dr. Banner are authorized to request medical assistance in case of alien pathogen contamination."

"Fuck. Fuck, that makes no fuckin' sense!" I yelled helplessly. "Okay, do you have blood matching Clint's type laying around?" I asked sarcastically. This protocol pissed me off. What was Tony scared of? That someone would steal alien germs? Too late for that, there were plenty of samples all over the sidewalks downtown.

"A-positive, blue refrigerator, top shelf." Friday's answer was curt.

My hands shook. My whole body shook. Clint was laying in fetal position right where I'd left him and the man wasn't looking better - he became paler, dark circles under his eyes, clammy sweat breaking on every exposed part of his skin. Moving him was out of the question - Clint violently recoiled from me once I tried to touch him.

Reluctantly, I dragged the dining room chairs and piled up whatever heavy things I could on top of them, praying to every god that they would hold a trained man trash around in pain. Then, came the restraints. Belts with clips unlike one could see in a movie with a psych ward. I fumbled with them, then with Clint - very slowly, but I got both of his arms fastened and the man rolled onto his back.

"Wwhat... S'appening..?" Hawk finally slurred, cracking his eyes to see my (probably) disheveled and panicked face.

"This is going to hurt, I won't lie. A lot," I rambled, setting up the tools needed for both a blood draw and a blood transfusion. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not a scientist. You have alien parasites in your blood. I'm going to get rid of em," I announced, not mentioning the fact that I had to Google all the things I was going to do to him.

"S'okay, I trust you," Clint slurred again, moving about much more weakly than before. The tips of his fingers began to turn blue and the blood vessels on his face stood out in a pink-purple web. Not good.

My finest thinking moment: laying out some tarp around the archer and putting on gloves and a mask to minimize the possibility of getting infected. I started with the wound first, carefully wiping away the yellowish goop and immediately sealing it into a biohazard container. Some alcohol around the edges, the wound began emanating a faint wisp of smoke as Clint yelled hoarsely. I didn't even react - man, aliens and their germs were fuckin' weird.

Another biohazard container traveled next to Clint's arm. I had a disposable scalpel in one hand and my courage in another - it was now or never. The vein I was cutting was a minor one, but with Clint's body in total disarray, it was an ugly fountain of pinkish-purple liquid that spurted from it. I was no doctor but blood shouldn't have looked like that.

I stared at the timer on my phone. Twenty seconds, thirty, fifty. Eighty seconds, the blood was beginning to have more of a red hue. Clint's breathing slowed, tremors subsiding by a smidgen. One hundred and eighty seconds, the stream was a healthy deep red colour. With a swift motion, I wrapped up the wound, folded his arm, tied off the blood flow higher up his arm with a spare restraint. Clint wasn't moving much anymore; my hand that periodically checked his pulse shook but dutifully did it's job. His heart was working steady.

Compared to having to drain a friend of his blood, setting up the IV with a transfusion was a walk in the park. My mind was empty of any thoughts but for the actions needed to complete the process.

The container with contaminated blood, closed, sealed and put in a plastic bag, along with the gloves and the tarp. My own exposed flesh, meticulously scrubbed with alcohol until the skin became red and raw. All the instruments, Clint's pants, my clothes - in the bag.

The archer himself was laying still, his breathing steady and calm, face no longer looking like he was one step away from the grave. After undoing the restraints, I wiped down every surface we touched with Tony's vodka - rubbing alcohol had run out and I was too emotionally drained to go downstairs and leave Clint for too long. Whenever the booze collided with a stray drop of blood, a wispy smoke emerged. Such an interesting reaction. Part of me couldn't wait to examine the phenomena together with Bruce. The other part was considering the possibility of having a panic attack in a seafood restaurant.

"Fri, keep an eye- a sensor on Clint for me, will ya? I need a shower and some pants," I denounced tiredly, padding to the communal shower. I found respite, however brief, under the steam for a few minutes. Then I found Tony's old tee and a pair of someone's sweats - I didn't care whose. Post-stress adrenaline shivers had me feeling stark naked in the middle of Alaska despite the room being a toasty, comfortable temperature according to the digital thermostat.

Now I just had to think about what to tell the team.

Propping Clint's head on a decorative pillow and covering him with a soft fleece blanket was the least I could have done for the long suffering archer. The floor was hard but I sat next to him, running a hand through his matted hair, my brain an incomprehensible mess.

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