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kira-fluff · 2 years

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Imagine the bros with someone who was a gremlin as a child and just nonchalantly tells them their stories. For example in kinder I got dared to put a rock in my ear and my little five year old self was not gonna back down. I had to get that rock removed by a doctor 😭.

a/n: i love this oddly specific request as well as the flawless usage of the descriptor "gremlin". i too was a lollipop-stuck-to-hair, hot-mess-express child. thank u for sharing your amazing story x i took the liberty of using as many funny childhood stories as i could remember, as well as your own (thought it a befitting tale to tell to lucifer lmao) disclaimer: this is assuming that you had a childhood full of crazy events, but none including ab*se of any kind. these are silly, funny memories, not ones that would hurt you to this day. tw: language, mention of children in the future (not totally breeding kink tho), established relationship unclear so just decided that for yourself bc im lazy

reacting to funny stories from your childhood - obey me! brothers x reader

stories of your childhood were always something most found entertaining, but you found that these stories intrigued your demon roommates even more so. it started off as a comment you'd mentioned off-hand, but the brothers urged you on, hooked on hearing some of your stories - after all, it had been a few hundred years since they'd been children.

"...so one time i got dared to put a rock in my ear and, of course, only losers back down from a challenge--" "you didn't" "--so i put that rock right in my ear! then i had to go to the doc to get it taken out, but at least my friends knew i ain't no pussy." "of course you did."

lucifer

trying to pretend like he doesn't care

but is easily baited into the conversation when mammon says "the person who knows the most 'bout y/n is obviously ME!"

rolls his eyes, but you can see his head turning to listen to you better

is rude af about it once you finish your story smh

"it all makes sense now, that rock must've replaced your brain"

smirks throughout the story, making focused eye-contact with mammon because his dumbass did the same thing. LAST. MONTH. (for a bet, of course, that he lost)

scoffs at your story, but can't help but continue to listen with a smile

he's got it bad

feels the need to one-up your stories with stories of his own (that aren't embarrassing at all, but that prove that even at the age of 2 he was a badass)

can't help but let his mind wander to having a child with you (he's domestic af okay)

"let's hope your our child inherits more of the father's genetics"

i dare you to smack him upside the head he deserves it for being a snarky little whore

just run away after, it's not like he'll catch you he def will

"...and then my sister took my doll, so then i tackled her to the ground and started chocking her. she passed out but she had it coming. my mom grounded me for like a month but i didn't care because guess what? my sis never took my doll again" "remind me not to take your shit anymore oh fuck--"

mammon

oh? cute stories about your childhood?

he's all ears

can't help but turn it into a competition to see who knows you the best or who your favorite is

so badly wants you to say it's him ;-;

was expecting stories about maybe the time you made your first friend or when you learned your first word

nope

he's over here sweating bullets because did he remember to put back all that stuff he took?

he wasn't gonna sell it or anythin'.. he just kinda likes the way yer stuff smells... not in a creepy way though, ok?!

and like, you hadn't noticed yet

so of course he was gonna keep some of your stuff!!!

but.. but you choked your sister for stealing a doll?

not even lucifer was that... extreme

may or may not find him in your room, putting all of your things back in the places he recalled he'd taken them

you'd just laugh, saying you didn't mind as long as it wasn't something you really needed

he breathed a sigh of relief

he was genuinely about to shit his pants when you walked through the door

"'m too young to die! swear i was jus' lookin' at 'em!"

"..one time my dad was in a bad mood so he got mad that i passed the ketchup bottle without the cap facing DOWN so that all the ketchup was able to be poured out quickly. so then, when he asked me to pass the salt, so i looked at him, then turned the salt shaker face down and handed it to him as the salt was pouring out..."

leviathan

already tweeting "STORIES FROM Y/N'S CHILDHOOD?!?!??! #REALSHITSABTTOGODOWN #STANRURICHAN"

spurs him to tell his own stories about his childhood (he wants to share but swears its sO emBarrAsSinG"

swears he was into anime as a newborn

is honestly a lil giddy to hear your stories and laughs at them just as much as everyone else

whenever you come into his room while he is gaming he wants you to tell him more of the stories from your childhood

"LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOO Y/N IS A SAVAGE"

doesn't find it hard to believe that you were just as sassy as a little child

you're just like him <3

kinda blushes imagining the two of you being childhood besties uwu

like he gives bullied in high school vibes for some reason idk

i can just imagine the two of you being the best of friends

you'd make him lil flower crowns while he ranted to you about his pokemon card collection

he's so SOFT for you omgggg

would quite literally die for you if he had to but im getting off topic

anyway, please never stop talking to him, it's his number one fear <3

giggles in the dorky way he does when you get super expressive

"...there was this day when i was eight and i didn't want to go to school anymore and i was bored in class so i decided right then and there that i would lose my tooth and get one of those crappy-looking 'tooth necklaces'..... not five minutes later, i ripped my front tooth out and was sent to the nurses with blood dripping down the hallway. i was so proud of myself but it turned out i had accidentally ripped out an ADULT tooth. my parents were pissed, but i was proud because i got to go home and eat ice cream for two weeks."

satan

THRIVES off the stories of you being a little shit as a kid lol (or the stories of you being a little shit now)

that being said, WHAT THE FUCK

he forgot how wild kids can be, much less YOU

i mean, you were sent to the demon world and all you did was shrug and roll with it??? who even are you????

you even felt a little bit of pity for your parents, bless their souls

he smirked at the part where you got out of school as you clasped your chest proudly

it was cute to watch you get excited about all your little adventures from when you were younger - it's hard to believe that was only a few decades ago (to him)

finds himself looking for the you now in your old self

he's easily able to identify some of your key traits: stubbornness, strength, optimism, kindness, wit...

you were always this way, he thought, and it was reassuring.

a little smile crept up his face, taking over the neutral expression that once adorned his soft and regal features

you were always something something special

"...and then the teacher was wearing this ugly ass skirt and so my sassy little six-year-old self was like 'did you dress in the dark or something? because your shirt doesn't match your skirt'... i feel kinda bad about it now but it was iconic back in the day."

asmodeus

gives you exaggerated reactions to each part of your story, but they're genuine

gASP

hand over mouth

laughs at the parts when you get super animated

insists your are doing her a favor by helping her with her fashion dilemma

honestly he probably has some similar stories to share himself

gushes about how the two of you are so alike that it is shocking

(i mean i guess sorta? jk u wish)

"we're so similar.. let's go to my bedroom and find out what is different"

all his other brothers simultaneously shout, "NO"

i headcanon that asmo has dimples that come out when he truly, REALLY smiles and he does it when you talk about your childhood

you get all excited and he can't help but just shout, "oH you're SO cUTE~~~~~!"

"....i backflipped into the christmas tree and the next thing i knew i was in one of those crusty ass hospital beds. so yeah, i don't recommend doing that."

beezlebub

got lost half-way through the story when he got up to get a snack

next thing he knew you were talking about backflipping???

still though, he found it really cute how you got all soft when talking about the way that your mother started crying once you woke up only for her to fall into a fit of rage the next moment

the moment actually brought tears to your eyes, reminding you of a part of yourself that did really miss home and the people that you left there

his eyes widened, taking in your shrinking form

as if his arms moved on his own, he moved to grasp you in a tight embrace

your sniffles ceased and you even let out a little giggle, "beel, you're squishing me"

he apologized, his purple eyes full of worry and remorse

you only shook your head, mumbling a quiet, "i'm fine"

he realized that even though devildom seemed like home to him now, he also knew what it felt like to have to get used to an entirely new place, especially going from being an angel to a deadly sin

so he cherished those moments in his heart, but he was hesitant to ask you more about your childhood, afraid that the memories, while happy, would also make you homesick

he cares for you so much, don't ever think otherwise <3

"...i skipped class so many times because i slept in - and like, usually i'd just show up late, but i had decided that i will never be that loser who ran to class. if i was gonna show up late, i'd show up looking good. so i'd curl my hair and put on makeup if i was late. i'd be more late, but i'd look like a bad bitch."

belphegor

your "idgaf" personality reflects his quite well

the amount of times he's tried to skip school because of sleeping were too far to count

yet lucifer always forced him to take part in the daily academics activities

honestly sort of jealous of you

still, he gets over it quickly, though, when he sees the cute little crescents that your eyes form

can't help but not be mad at you

and now he knows the perfect person to go to when he wants to escape the world and take a big nap

maybe miss a few classes on the side with you :)

you're his special napping buddy

a/n: this was sorta ass but just ignore it

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across-violet-skies · 4 months

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Febuwhump day 7: suffering in silence

Whumpee: Time

Whump Rating: 5/10

TWs: blood & injury

Time was always the most insistent that nobody should hide an injury or illness. When it (inevitably) happened to one of their number, they were sent to be lectured by Time.

Which is precisely why none of them expected the Old Man to hide an injury. He was their strongest advocate against the practice, and he usually stuck to his morals.

To be fair, it wasn’t like he had gone into it intending to hide an injury. But they were out of potions and fairies, and Hyrule looked just about ready to pass out while he was working on Sky’s arm. Time’s injury wasn’t that bad– he would manage just fine the old-fashioned way until they could restock or Hyrule regained his magic.

So, tearing away from the group while they cleaned themselves up, Time pulled bandages out of his bag. He sat on a log, propping his leg up as his layers were peeled back. The injury itself looked fine… enough. All he could really do was empty his waterskin over the wound to clean it before wrapping it up.

It was a small wound, shallow too. Just a cut across the back of his calf, obtained while he was surrounded by Lizalfos. One of their tails had whipped around, but this one cut into his leg instead of tripping him. Time guessed they were sharper than they looked. And at the speed Lizalfos tails moved, he supposed one of them could slice through his calf.

The Old Man sighed, tying off the bandage over the injury. It would be covered normally, so as long as he could manage walking for hours at a time, it would be fine. He had years of experience pushing through injuries, so a little cut shouldn’t be an issue.

This line of thinking should’ve been the first warning sign. Especially with all the lectures he had given on this very subject. But Time was as much a holder of the Hero’s Spirit as any of the others, and that same stubbornness they had lived in him, too.

So he pushed through it.

The first hour or so of traveling was fine, almost normal. Nobody suspected a thing– why did it sound like he was trying to hide something big? It was only a small cut, nothing to worry about– and Time held idle conversation with the Captain as they walked.

“...I just think it’s weird, y’know? With Cia and everything, and all the pictures of me-” Warriors cut himself off, squinting at Time. “You alright, Old Man? You’ve been quieter than usual.”

“Hm?” Time raised a brow, humming. “No, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

The Captain elbowed him playfully. “Care to share?”

“Ah, well…” Time waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing of note.”

“Right. Well…” Warriors continued with his story, something Time would normally listen to. Today, though, he couldn’t find it in himself to bother. His head was in the clouds, metaphorically speaking, and not in a good way.

“-ime. Time!” Sky called, waving a hand in front of his face worriedly. “Are you okay? You seem ill!”

“Ah…” Time held a hand to his head, dazed. “I suppose I may be coming down with something.”

Sky frowned. “We should stop.” Then louder: “Everybody stop! We’ll make camp for tonight here!”

There was only a moment’s hesitation before everyone was getting to work setting up camp. Wind helped Twilight, who was carrying an exhausted Hyrule, to set up the bedrolls and get their healer situated for the night. Wild started a fire, and Four contained it to a small pit. Legend and Warriors bickered as they collected firewood, and Sky led Time over to the fire, sitting him down against a tree.

Sky placed a gentle hand against their eldest’s forehead, frowning. “You’ve got a fever,” he murmured, shaking his head. “How long have you been feeling unwell?”

“Not too long,” Time replied, shaking his head. “Only an hour or so after the battle.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, of course n-” Time paused. He was hurt, wasn’t he? And falling ill so suddenly like this… well, it wasn’t good news. “...I am. But it was minor, and I cleaned and wrapped it.”

Sky pressed his lips into a thin line, sighing. “I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Can I see?”

Silently, Time rolled back his pant leg to reveal the bandaged wound. Sky hummed to himself as he unwrapped it carefully, grimacing at the wild discoloration all around the injury.

Yeah, it wasn’t an ordinary wound, that’s for sure. What had previously been a small cut was now a large slice across the back of Time’s calf, oozing an inky blackish-purple substance.

Sky dropped the soiled bandages, shuffling backward. “...I’ll go get Wars.” The Skyloftian left quickly, leaving Time with the ominous injury. It gurgled and hissed, almost like a separate entity, and even more of the sludge bubbled out from his leg.

Sky and Warriors came running, getting down on their knees next to Time to better examine the wound. “What the hell did you do? What caused this?” The Captain questioned, feeling around the cut.

“Lizalfos tail,” Time explained, shaking his head.

“You mean from the battle this morning?” Warriors clarified, narrowing his eyes. Time nodded sheepishly. “For fuck’s sake, Old Man! You were the one person I trusted not to pull shit like this! I- ugh!” The Captain raised his arms in displeasure, grumbling as he cleaned out the wound. “You’re lucky we caught it. What happened to not hiding injuries?”

Time sighed, gesturing uselessly. “We didn’t have anything left, and Traveler…” he waved an arm in Hyrule’s general direction. “Everyone was stressed enough already; I didn’t want to add to it. I thought I could handle it on my own until we were able to restock.”

“Clearly not,” Warriors remarked, emptying a bottle of liquid on the wound. Before his eyes, the dark ooze was swept away, leaving a deep wound that bled red. “You-” He pointed at Time. “-owe me a bottle of Great Fairy-blessed water.”

The Old Man nodded. “I’ll be sure to repay you, Captain. Thank you.”

Warriors sighed deeply, wrapping up Time’s leg properly. “Of course. I just wish you had said something earlier, even if we were out of potions and fairies. We still have other healing supplies, and this whole thing likely could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t hidden it from us,” he commented, tying off the bandages. “I thought you were better than that, Old Man.”

Time’s brow furrowed. Ouch. Still, he knew Warriors was right, and he never should’ve hidden an injury in the first place. He should’ve known better– he did know better. This wasn’t an accident.

The Captain softened, exhaling. “Get some rest; heal up. The fever should break in the next few hours, and we can talk then. Sky and I will get you to the bedrolls.”

The three of them made their way to the bedrolls, and Sky and Warriors deposited Time onto his. The eldest Link adjusted himself until he was comfortable, sighing. “Thank you, Captain. And thank you as well, Sky. I apologize for hiding the injury.”

Sky shrugged, smiling gently, while Warriors simply nodded. “You’re welcome. Let’s not have a repeat of this.”

“Definitely not,” Time agreed, exhaling.

The Captain cracked a small smile, patting Time’s head once before standing. “Get some rest, Sprite.”

–> support me on ao3!

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday7 #tw blood #tw injury #linked universe #lu time #lu sky #lu warriors #linked universe fanfic #ao3 #riv writes

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k1ss-m3-b3tt3r · 2 years

Text

✟ Mary on a Cross ✟

pairing: Khonshu x gn! reader (platonic), mentions of marc and steven

summary: you cant see khonshu but you can sense him until one day you do see him. marc tells you how much of an over-the-top asshole hes been. as marc speaks about it, you realize this might be deeper than expected.

warnings: swearing

a/n: this is my first post and first fanfic in a long time. please, be patient with me and happy reading. :)

all day, and i mean all day, you couldnt get this stupid song out of your head. it was almost like it was drilling into your brain to put it simply. even at work, your coworkers kept asking what the song was while you were unknowingly humming it. you cursed at yourself, not being able to help it at this point.

there was only one cure to this and you had to just listen to the song over and over again until you pass out, which was a common assurance due to your constant loving music ass.

“couldnt survive one day without it can i?” you said just trying to stare at the clocking zoning out, hopefully for some reason thinking it would move faster. now, what song you may ask, its mary on a cross by ghost. with that song floating around the internet, who couldnt have it stuck in their head 24/7.

“FINALLY!” you said loudy, disturbing the people around you but honestly you didnt care. you barged out of work, clocking out and just saying a quick bye to a few coworkers that, surprisingly, didnt piss you off.

luckily, you didnt miss the bus on your way home. as the bus pushed you back and forth with every stop, all a sudden your ring tone blurted out causing you to freak out for a second. “well, that was hella embarrassing.”

you read the contact, “steven? what does he want?” you looked outside and it was almost dark with the sun setting already. you knew it was a long shift but damn. you clicked the answer button and immediately heard a grumpy voice.

“ah, marc whats up?” “howd you even know,” he responded with a slow sigh after it. it took you a second but you connected the pieces. “back from work?” you asked, not surprised hearing a long yup. “do you mind coming over to drop off some milk or something. im trying to actually cook for once but its not exactly going as planned,” marc groaned loudly.

‘such a drama queen,’ you thought and honestly you might be right half the time just thinking about past occurrences. “alright, guess ill come over and cook tonight,” before he could even say anything you hung up not ready to put up with him.

‘damn it, i might not even be able to listen to the song,’ you groaned, sounding just like marc at that point. then, the bus almost threw you while saying next stop and i mean.. it is your stop so you guess you should honestly be grateful for the driver notifying you?

you moved through all the bags and people in the bus until taking a step off the bus and onto the dirty ground while carrying your satchel, which old but it worked for its purposes. you turned back and the bus was quickly turning around a corner. ‘those poor people,’ you laughed lightly to yourself.

you walked into your apartment complex and it was a bit dingy you must admit but it was home and at least you had one. you lived two doors down from marc or steven i suppose, depending on the day.

“you go down.. bloody mary mary on a-“ you swung the door open as you kept murmuring the song in and out. ‘can nothing stop the song already?’

your apartment was pretty boring, not going to lie. you had basic minimal things: a couch, crusty wooden chairs, a table that feels like its going to tip over any minute. “yeah.. maybe i should fix that soon..” you slowly muttered to yourself but reminded yourself that you had a meal to cook two door doors down.

you threw your stuff down from work and grabbed the milk, slamming it closed and sighing because you had to go back and close it gently. then strutted your way down the hall outside the apartment for which you live in and gently knocked on the door.

there was no answer. “MARC IMMA HOLLER IF YOU DONT LET ME IN!” you were so mentally tired and exhausted. eventually, the door swung open when you knocked even harder repeatedly.

“you were already hollering in the first place,” he rolled his eyes, “come in, i guess.” “you better be greatful im even cooking you food. “well, it wasnt a choice was it?” he squinted at you. what he said was true so you went around him and inside his apartment.

still looked the same: books everywhere, everything scattered but organized at the same time? ‘how the hell does that make sense?’

as you started cooking this meal, which you arent even a good cook actually, marc started ranting about his day and how khonshu, yes you know about him, was a dick. i mean, you figured after hearing marc constantly argue with them ever since you found out, which was easy. ‘people are so dumb nowadays or.. maybe im smart! nahhh’

you were constantly in your own thoughts until marc started saying stuff that concerned you a bit. “it was like khonshu was having a grumpy breakdown or just wasnt paying attention to the job! he was weird. like stop zoning out for one minute just staring at people! its creepy and on top of that, he kept mentioning how he looked constantly?-“

“what about his looks?” you inquired. “im not even sure at this point, he just comparing him and other gods and people, and how he was never really worshiped blah blah blah. besides that, it almost seemed like hes been grumpy and attention seeking, trying to “fit in” i guess. and im like STOP IT youre a god am i right?”

“hum.. are you sure it was attention seeking and not yearning for the fact that he is not like you and me?” you could sense the upsetting aura around you and knew khonshu must be there, which was a rare occurrence to you.

“you could be right or you could be wrong, im not sure,” marc actually looked thoughtful for a second before saying, “but hes a god, what more can he want. im going to take a shower, you can tell me when its done.” he walked out of there with a questionable face, but you didnt question anything as you kept stirring the pot just full of noodles and alfredo sauce.

you felt the presence growing stronger and stronger and sadder and sadder. you started humming and humming, not able to take it anymore and started up your phone playing mary on a cross, finally trying to get it out of your head. you couldnt help but sing along with it.

“but through all the sorrow we were riding highhh,” trying to hit that note and actually nailing it, you fist bumped the air and continued, “and the truth of the matter is i had to let you gooo let you gooo!”

you turned around and quiet down for a second singing, “you go down just like bloody mary… mary on a mary on a cross..”

you look up and there you were looking khonshu in his eye sockets and got a really good look at him. surprisingly, you werent startled and just kept going, “you go down just like holy mary mary on a mary on a cross”

you leaned in touching his beak letting him know you were there and could see him, “not just another bloody mary mary on a mary on aaa”

as the chorus picked up, you took your hand off and started fake drumming making the mood lighter and goofier, you werent a sap and you knew it so you did the best you could, “you go down just like holy maryy mary on a mary on a cross!”

you turn towards him and laughed a bit but these words unknowingly stuck with him harder than you anticipated, “your beauty never ever scared me!”

he turned away and laughed silently embarrassed but glad for a quick second, which was strange of him and concerning for other people but he honestly did feel better. he gave you a thought as you kept singing and vanished after saying, “thank you..”

you nod and keep singing until you hit the last verse of the song. the energy around you felt so much lighter than before and you finally got that stupid song out your head. ‘i guess it wasnt so stupid. it cheered him up at least a little bit’

marc walks into the kitchen, all dressed and ready for food clearly. as you poured the bowls you decided not to tell marc about the little interaction with khonshu and im sure khonshu wouldnt want you too either, especially after somehow seeing him, which is odd in its own way.

as you looked up marc was less irritated and just plain tired, so you guys only had a little small talk and a quick thank you before you were kicked out.

“rude!” you went into your apartment and couldnt help but think about khonshu.

“hope he feels better..”

#khonshu #khonshu x reader #moon knight x gn reader #moon knight x male reader #moon knight #moon knight x fem!reader #platonic

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skyliv · 5 months

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IM BORED and i feel like taking up all the space in the liv tag again

this is the last chapter of Tender Buttons and its main plot on ao3!! its rushed and rambly but i had fun doing it!

“Alright! Alright, so, what you said stuck with me. Why drag people into this? When I can just focus on the Spider. However-” She speaks brightly as she moves her mug to one of the tentacles.

“Oh, goodness, and..?”

“I can drag you into it!” Olivia outstretches her arms with a wide grin.

Lucy’s heart sinks, and she freezes up. “Me?! No, no, no! I’d be terrible for your plan!” She stammers.

“I’d absolutely disagree, you're perfect!” Olivia points at Lucy and pokes her in the chest. “Don't worry, don't worry.. I have a plan, you'll be fine!”

“And if I said no? Would you go and just grab some random guy off the street?!”

Olivia blinks a few times, and pulls back her hand. “Maybe.”

A few moments pass, and Lucy drops her gaze to the counter. She's clearly mulling it over, as her eyebrows furrow and she frowns ever so slightly. All before taking a deep breath and looking back up. “I’m in, but not for the sake of whoever else you would've gotten- I’m doing this for you.”

She can't imagine how long Olivia has been fighting. Fighting for herself, for her work, for her life. Lucy just wants to see the doctor win.

If it weren't for Olivia perking up at Lucy’s acceptance, the younger woman definitely would've felt bad.

“Oh that's just perfect! You know, it's definitely best that you agreed, we already work so well together.” Olivia exclaims, and she steps to the side to wrap an arm around Lucy’s shoulder. An actual arm. Lucy does take this with surprise, but just like the day before she does follow along as they leave the flat.

If Fisk hadn't owned this building, the two women would definitely be getting far more stares, but this only bothers Lucy.

“I was thinking last night, you're the first test subject I’ve grown a liking to, you're not as much of a captive audience. I don’t know-” Olivia muses, and when Lucy’s expression hardens she quickly reiterates. “Hey! Hey I promise I haven't tested on other people- Maybe a spider or two, but you’d think if I did any bigger animal I’d be out of a job!”

Despite the odd subject, Lucy cracks a smile. There's something about the way Olivia talks, the lilt of her voice when she corrects herself, the shift in tone when her mood lightens. Lucy isn't sure why she notices this, but she likes that she does.

Their chats are simple in the long elevator ride down, but the plan is laid out simply.

Lucy attracts Spider-Man to a location on the outskirts of the city. Whether it be a building he hits on patrols or a past battle location, she can catch him and say she's lost. She could hypothetically try and slip on those web-shooter disablers, but she's adamant she couldn't. The machines activate, Olivia is alerted, and Lucy escapes as they fight unfairly.

Not much could go wrong!

𖦹

It isn't the best location, a warehouse on the harbor that is cast into shadow by the clouds above. It's fairly chilly, and the place seems more deserted than anything. Olivia takes a seat on the edge of the roof, her actuators dangling off like ribbons as Lucy looks down into the inky waters.

“I know it's weird…” She begins simply, her hair whipping in the wind, “Why would I know Spider-Man’s patrol routes? Shouldn't I be more focused on work?” Her tone is mocking, like she's tired of herself.

“I wasn't going to ask, if anything, it's best for… Planning-”

Olivia chuckles quietly as Lucy hops down to sit next to her, but her expression soon shifts. “That's nice, but still, if I can do this one thing right, I- I may just get past that thick skull of his.” She’s more solemn, far from the enthusiasm Lucy had expected. The younger woman frowns, glancing back up.

“How long have you been fighting him?” She inquires, keeping her tone soft to try and be a better listener.

“5, uhm- Maybe 6 years?” Olivia speaks with a shrug. “The collider has been such a priority for the last decade, he only got involved a little bit after.”

Lucy fiddles with the web-shooter gadgets as she listens, letting the doctor's voice sink in. “And how often did you fight?”

“Every two weeks, maybe.”

Goodness…

Lucy’s eyebrows furrow, her lips in a thin line as she tries to process just how much Olivia must've been through just to get that machine operational.

Suddenly, far to the west, there's a blur of red leaping through the sky. Lucy notices this first, she was just moments away from zoning out, and after she nudges Olivia’s shoulder the actuators spur back to life. Olivia rises quickly, using the claws to support and lift herself maybe a foot into the air. It must've been a habit by then, like a fearful animal trying to seem bigger. Only two of them are free, and one instinctively pulls Lucy forward.

The distant figure dips behind one building, and then leaps over another, leaving silken strands in his wake. This was it.

“Can I pick you up?” Olivia chimes.

“What?!” Lucy barks, “I mean, sure, but-”

In the split second when the wide eyes of Spider-Man’s mask are visible, Lucy is held up like a trophy by a tentacle as Olivia drops back down to her feet. A second one snaps around her torso as well, and practically squeezes out a shrill, short scream. She slams her eyes shut, and she clenches the mechanical wristbands she held tighter.

The next moment she opens her eyes, all she can make out are the machines that hold her, the dizzying sky, and the flash of Spider-Man yanking an actuator on Olivia's back. Promptly, Lucy is dropped, and she can't help but yelp again as she curls into herself. Rather than by the Spider, one of the tentacles catches her by the collar of her shirt, and tosses her from a foot in the air to the building's stairway.

She can't make out much of the fight, maybe a wide grin from Olivia and flashes of hits, but is too preoccupied with not panicking and breaking the tech anyway. There’s a joke here, a shout there, but the only thing that shines through is how dangerous these two can be. After Spider-Man had pulled the tentacle from under her, Olivia retaliated with a kick. For as cunning as she was, with rhythmic maneuvers and long reaching swings, Spider-Man always seemed to weasel his way out. Whether it be with or without the use of his webs.

“You can't seriously think that you’ll get away forever!” Olivia snaps, her voice breathy and cold. The years of practice came in handy, she deflects a punch and returns with a hard kicking blow to the hero’s stomach, but all he does is deliver an even harder punch right in the face.

“I never did!” He shouts back, and the youthful courage in his voice clearly surprises Lucy. Olivia lets out a forced, dark cackle at his expected quip, and quickly retracts the claw of one tentacle to replace it with a buzzsaw. The sound of spinning metal cuts through the air, an uncomfortable addition to the already tense fight.

It all went downhill fast. Spider-Man pays no mind to Lucy, and strikes hit after hit. Olivia barely had a chance, never did, and probably never will.

One punch hits her square in the nose, causing her to stumble back. But as she does, the saw-tipped actuator rushes forward, and accidentally cuts past her left arm. It slices right through her latex suit and severs a wire on her shoulder, leaving sparks and a gnarly scar in its place. The doctor uses a tentacle to anchor herself to the floor, and the tentacle that had cut her twitches as the saw retracts.

As Lucy scrambles to the stairway’s broken door, Spider-Man shoots a web and disables a tentacle to keep Olivia busy, before shooting one to leap over to Lucy and kneel at her side.

“You! Hey, are you alright?!” He asks, his voice quick. He’s taller than both women, and with how bright his suit is Lucy can feel a headache forming from that and her fall. She lies there for a moment, before leaning forward with a small groan.

“Yeah… Yes-” She mutters. Her upper arm had been badly bruised, and an ache pulsed through her shoulder. Spider-Man brings her hands forward, ready to catch her if she tumbles forward.

The slightest drops of rain tumble off of the Spider’s costume, and cause Lucy to blink quickly. That's when she notices the tall silhouette of the doctor behind Spider-Man.

She bursts forward where she sits, and snaps the thin devices around his wrists.

All she can do is whisper “Sorry,” before Olivia strikes. The villainess clutches her injured arm with the other, and she wrenches Spider-Man away from Lucy by his shoulder. She tosses him like a ragdoll across the roof, and when he attempts to recover with a web, he simply can't. The click of his ring and middle fingers to his wrist are met with silence, and he scrambles to latch onto the side of the building.

Olivia can't even fathom a smile through her rage, and before she's able to rush over Lucy grabs onto an actuator. The girls look like messes, as rain pours down each and every scar is much more visible on Olivia's face, her arm is bleeding and one of the tentacles is glitching wildly. Each strand of wet hair frames her face. Frames that… Look of fear. Lucy keeps her head low, her own hair practically covering her whole head and shoulders. They both breathe quickly, they both freeze, one from pain and one from terror.

As quickly as it started, the moment ends, with Spider-Man leaping forward from the ledge and pushing himself off for momentum. As quickly as she can, Lucy scrambles to stand. She tugs down the tentacle she held as Olivia shouts in surprise… And just before Spider-Man reaches them, Lucy shoves Liv through the doorway and down the broken stairs. The villainess flails to recover, claws slither and writhe to grab anything possibly, but they're unable to other than a windowsill further down. Lucy ducks almost immediately, and Spider-Man’s quick attack only hits the doorway. The concrete crumbles, dust forms around his fist. The punch could've been fatal, and the impact of his strike even formed a hole.

There's a thud at the floor of the building as the downpour continues, and Lucy stays low to the ground.

Spider-Man hesitates, his breath heavy as he looks down. He wrenches off the devices from his wrists, and tosses them in front of Lucy. All before rushing to leap away.

She’s left there, alone, unsure of Olivia's safety after technically betraying them both. Tears hit the roof lighter than the rain.

𓆞

Oh that girl.

It’s over for her.

Olivia lands in a stack of wooden scaffolding, her impact rattling the whole building. It strikes her back and snaps an actuator out of place, leaving her a dizzy, pained mess in a pile of dust.

She doesn't stand immediately, she doesn't even feel like she could if she wanted. Slowly, two tentacles retract back into her suit, but that's met by weak groans. The one that had snapped can only go in so far, and the broken half lies limply out of its casing. The fourth twitches weakly, and fumbles to find something to latch onto.

𖦹

Even through her pain, Lucy was able to get away from the building. She struggles to make herself look presentable in her slow trek back.

She’ll hate me, she won't ever forget what I did.

She does make it back to Olivia's apartment, thank goodness for her planning, but the moment she makes it inside she rushes to the small office room.

It's much cleaner than it was at her arrival, and she makes a note to apologize later when she begins to rummage through.

Was damage to the tentacles felt? Could they be rebuilt?

But she finds nothing helpful. No notes, no schematics, just a map with marks of past fights. It’s covered in bunches of pins and miscellaneous marks, like something a detective would have- Many are bundled around Alchemax locations, but now, a new spot could be added.

𖦹

But what if she didn't team up with the Spider?

Understandably, Olivia's trek home is much slower and much more painful. Each step drains more energy out of her, and she feels like a disgrace.

This is how it usually ended. She’d lose, be beaten and torn worse than before. It was worse this time, since this time she was with someone. It wasn't that she made herself look like a failure in front of the first woman who’s liked her in any way in forever, but more that she was afraid of how she'd lash out at Lucy.

As she walks, she replays each and every moment of the fight in her head. The cuts, the kicks, the punches. And it strikes her that Lucy didn't just run away.

𖦹

The next hour was rough. Lucy crumbled onto the couch, her knees to her chest and her head low. She didn't even bother to clean her wounds, and just… Cried for a bit.

That was most definitely the worst thing she could do. It hurt, she hated herself for acting on impulse, hated herself for even getting wrapped up in this mess.

A knock sounds at the door. It's quiet, but firm. She does hesitate before rising to open it, but does so anyway.

Of course. It's Olivia. She looks worse than earlier, her hair soaked and flat as it tumbles over her shoulders. The cut on her shoulder has been haphazardly covered with another torn piece of her suit, and bruises and scratches litter any visible skin. Her eyelashes flutter, and her chest heaves with each breath. But she stands tall, even with the one tentacle holding her up and the snapped one hanging limp.

Lucy is quiet, her breath caught in her throat as if she were stuck in a dream. Olivia looks at her like a deer in headlights.

“You…” The doctor murmurs.

“You helped me.” Her voice weakens.

She steps in, Lucy steps back, and she wraps her arms around the younger woman. This was nothing like the dream Lucy had. Olivia shakes with each breath, she feels light as a feather as she hugs and holds on for dear life. Lucy is frozen where she stands, her teary eyes widening in shock as she tries to process anything.

It's going far too fast for Lucy, but not fast enough for Olivia. As they stand in a warm, bundled hug full of pain and rainwater, Lucy tries to speak.

“But I-” Lucy breathes out.

“You pushed me, y- Yes, we know..” Olivia states, keeping the hug tight.

Before she can utter another word, Olivia looks up with tired eyes and leaves a weak kiss on the crook of the other woman's neck.

“But you saved me.”

#🪶skyliv🧪#olivia octavius #fanfic excerpt #self ship #selfship #into the spider verse #oc x canon #doc ock #selfship writing #self ship writing #fanfic #fanfiction #cringe

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yandere-daze · 2 years

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HIIII DAZE!!! i hope you're doing wellll, its been awhile since ive opened tumblr and then i saw all the self-aware enstars posts and now i just finished catching up KSJSJ AND LORD. FIRST THING I SAW WAS UNHINGED AND DERANGED ANZU. GODBLESS. girl i can fix you. I CAN FIX YOU. SHAKES U WAKE UPP!!! OH! AND ALSO!!! i've been listening to a lot of double face's music lately and i think i just unintentionally fell into the pool of double facePs AND IM AFRAID I CANT GET OUT... (1/3)

Welcome back!! Yeah, there has been a lot of new stuff about the self-aware AU indeed! I think the masterlist is up to like 37 posts now? Which is kind of crazy to think about when you remember that the inital ask that started all of this wasn´t even to long ago ksdbbd

But I´m really pleasantly surprised with how enthusiastic everyone is about this AU! I never thought it would catch on this quickly and now everyone is sharing these cool and interesting ideas! I´m kind of behind right now with answering all of them but be sure that I will get to it eventually if you sent in an ask ^^

Also yes, how rude of Tumblr to cut you off like that! I don´t understand either how the word limit works and why some are able to get through that somehow and just type to their heart´s content. Maybe it has something to do with the platform you send the ask on? Like maybe there´s a difference between the app and the website? I truly have no clue though, Tumblr works in mysterious ways skjnflsbf

gn reader

tw yandere, murder, possessiveness, jealousy, kind-of torture?

Double Face as partners in crime

Yessss unhinged Anzu my beloved! You might not be able to fix her but she appreciates you trying because it means you will spend more time with her <3

And omg yes double face! I love pretty much all of their songs, how do they keep doing it?? My favorite is probably Stippling, I don´t know why but it just gives me this really calm and comforting vibe, it´s become some sort of a comfort song for me honestly. I might be biased because Kohaku is one of my favorite characters anyway but he sounds so soft and lovely in that song 🥺

Once again having to out myself as a fake fan because I actually don´t know too much information about double face in particular? I´ve been wanting to read A dark night´s passing for so long now but I´ve just kept putting it off because I´m anticipating that it will probably be pretty angsty? I also really want to read the Valkyrie x Double Face tour event story but I don´t think that one has been fully translated yet so I don´t want to start reading and then be stuck on a cliffhanger :/

But from what I know about them so far, the partners in crime thing sounds very possible! I´ve already talked about Kohaku in his general yandere headcanons and his horrortober oneshot, but he literally would not hesitate killing someone for his darling. He may not like this type of dirty work too much when it was demanded of him due to being part of the branch family but when it´s “for the benefit” of the person he loves? Well, he sure is grateful of all the experiences he´s gathered so far, to say the least

Madara is also someone that would go very far for a loved one, all with a smile on his face that looks more unhinged the longer you look at it. He´s so fiercely protective and he´s just willing to do anything to protect his loved ones, even if it´s reprehensible. He´s already willing to do some messed-up stuff in canon but when he´s a yandere? Yeah he can be for real scary under that cheerful demeanor. Around you he would be very friendly and passionate so you would never even imagine that there are these dark thoughts hidden inside of him. I mean sure, he has his overprotective moments but that´s nothing too bad, right?

Since they´ve gotten closer due to their work as a unit now, they´re also bound to find out about each other´s willingness to do anything for you. I think for Madara it stems moreso from an intense urge to protect you from any possible threat, while Kohaku likes to pretend that´s also his motive even though his true reason probably has a bit more to do with jealousy than he would ever like to admit.

So for that reason, they would be happy to partner up with each other if there was a target that needed to be removed ( in their opinion at least). Though Madara is the older one of the two, I feel like it´s more likely that Kohaku is going to do the actual killing most of the time. He´s been trained to do it quietly and efficently so he´s the safer option if they don´t want to get caught. Madara may serve as a means to get their victim to go to a specific place where Kohaku can ambush them. I mean he seems very friendly and caring to most people so there´s nothing to be afraid of when he leads them into a pretty dark and secluded part in the middle of the night, right?

If he´s especially angry at something their target has done, then Madara might throw some insults their way or throw a few hard punches of his own, but he´s mostly involved with the cover-up and cheering you up if you happened to be close to the person they killed. Kohaku isn´t that good at comforting words so he just kind of sits beside you awkwardly as he pats your back.

Kohaku meanwhile obviously shines when it comes to eliminating the target. He doesn´t feel any kind of remorse while doing it, believing that they deserved their fate. And while he´s usually pretty quick about it, he may sometimes let his emotions get the better of him when he´s especially jealous of today´s victim because they happened to get too close to you for his tastes. Maybe he takes some more time with this person, not striking any vital organs on purpose to draw out their death so they´re able to feel the sort of anguish he goes through when he saw them talking to you so casually.

In the end he´s relieved knowing that he made your life a little easier by getting rid of this troublesome person.

So in a nutshell : There´s a lot of potential here! ^^

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87435678753256732 · 1 year

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MAY '23!!

haillo,

its already June 8th, which means May flew by so quickly. I didn't read or skim past my last entry. mostly because im sure of what I wrote down for April. and its all happy stuff!! im sitting now in the kitchen table of my boyfriends apartment, and it feels a bit strange to complete this entry somewhere public. Athough I have done it at work before everyone arrived, I guess it felt scary but now it feels okay. like there's nothing to worry about. I will be starting school soon, around three months to be exact. Im feeling different emotions, but im sure about what im doing. sometimes my autistic traits strike me down and I feel that I am not socially competent as other people in my field. Guess thats just my own take on imposter syndrome. hearing from people in the field that are younger than me think im much older due to my experience/ the way I present myself is interesting, flattering maybe? idk. time will pass anyway, so I can either be in 2026 with a degree or 2026 with no degree, whallaa!! sometimes I wonder if the better route would be in some field where I don't need as much human interaction, but then I remember that I love people!! I love chatting and hearing about my close pals days, even if I get stuck and have no clue what to bring up or respond. My therapist also broke up with me over a month ago. Not sure if I added that to the past entry. I understand why, im not bitter, but I am working on processing things on my own without relying on a therapist to listen to me in the middle of the week. I am glad that I have connected good friends with her, and I have been Able to see the progress!! It def helped me in ways that I am seeing now. even my old therapist who wasn't in touch helped impact my life in a way. I guess she listened and was the only one listening. WOOPS! Now im sitting on this black table as I complete the entry for may. the month of may was great. I was able to hang out with my friends, enjoy work, and hang out with my boyfriend. I was able to fall deeper in love, and enjoy all the little things in life that I had taken for granted. its strange walking in the chilling morning, hearing all the birds chip as I drink my warm coffee. Not that nature itself is strange, but Its strange that im finally in a point in my life in which my thoughts no longer overwhelm me. I still have my fears, and I am trying my best to work on them. One of them being my fear of abandonment. a part of my brain tries (the evollll part) tries to convince me that I do not deserve the happiness im feeling right now. that for some reason, things will get worse and I will once again fall. Its like premeditating my next depressive episode. I hate it. I try doing some CBT on myself and try to grasp why the irrational thoughts I have are only that, irrational. I really wish I didn't think this way, why do I not believe that I deserve good things? is it my jealousy convincing me that my hot boyfriend has people on a waitlist? idk LOL. I hope to be able to overcome these thoughts one day. Hopefully that will be soon. I know that I cannot keep these thoughts to myself, so I am open about them with my bf. I appreciate the validation I get, and am thankful that his reactions to my DIY processing aren't negative. I hope to reach a point where I don't rethink my thoughts before I tell him. I feel that way currently, but I guess closer. Its terrible to hear my coworkers/friends speak about the issues they have with their partners. overall it looks like they all revolve money somehow. what I find interesting is that it tends to come more from people who grew up well off?? not sure what it is. but I feel like if you truly love and care for someone, spending money on them shouldn't hurt?? especially if you're not poor and broke asf. even poor people find ways to show their love!! its crazy. anyways, thats all I've got. see you in JULLYYY

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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I feel like I’ve found my kin, I fell in love with Kakashi when I was like 8 LOL. Can I request some general yandere Zoro headcanons btw? I loved/still love him too 😶

Yes you may ahhh!!!! I love Zoro so much. I love writing for fandoms like this bc shounen anime are... Well, shounen, they're aimed at dudes, so they tend to not have as large of a female audience so there's not a lot of content out there. I love Luffy and there's like zero girl-targeted content for him. I swear I've spent so much time looking for wholesome, decent LuNa (my otp im sorry i just hhhh) doujins that aren't super male-oriented, and there's like... 2. For a 900+ episode anime. 2.

I also love the concept of a yandere in a situation where they CAN'T kidnap you, they're limited by their circumstances, so they have to kind of adjust or go insane. It's an interesting dynamic because it eliminates the norm for yanderes.

I think I mentioned this but I'm not 100% caught up with one piece (I mean, who is?), so I'm just keeping it simplistic and going with kinda basic Zoro and nothing with specific character developments or any spoilers other than his backstory

Yandere Roronoa Zoro (One Piece)

Tws: all the usuals -- yandere, noncon, kidnapping

He meets you while he's lost. I'm sorry I just. Zoro gets lost in the middle of some place they're docked, and you're just such a sweetheart, you see this guy clearly not knowing where he's going, and offer to help him. He's kind of taken aback by your softness and sweetness.

He's not easily made aware of his own feelings. He's a rough and tough sort of guy, and he has dedicated himself to swordsmanship so much that he's neglected to focus on himself and his interpersonal relationships, and he's not really self aware at all of his own feelings, very out of touch with his emotions.

Obviously, even if he tries to shove it down, Kuina weighs heavily on his mind in relation to you. He's another man that has known loss and it's dealt its damage on his psyche. He can't lose another person who's dear to him again.

This results in him becoming insanely protective, one of the most protective yans out there. He's easily one led into paranoia delusions regarding your safety. However, he's an honest and reasonable guy and can be level-headed when confronted. If someone (not yourself, as he thinks you're naive, but maybe another girl like Nami or Robin) tells him he's being overprotective and exaggerating about your safety, he may actually have a moment of self-realization and admit to it. He's capable of being reasonable enough to see it once it's pointed out to him. However... this doesn't stop him. He tries, really, he genuinely tells himself that he needs to stop. But his instincts just kind of take over. It's an impulse, to stop you from doing even the most slightly dangerous things.

Once you join the Straw Hat Crew, he just kinda... clings. It's a silent presence, but he's always there, constantly seems to show up wherever you are. Unfortunately, you can't really... get away from him per se. You're kinda limited to one ship, at least as long as you're out on the sea. Your only option for respite is going to your room or bathing, otherwise, he's gonna follow you, even if he's not saying anything and (very badly) trying to feign indifference, pretending you just happen to be going the same way all the time. He doesn't really know what to say, he's not good with these things, and often he's acting without really thinking too much about it. He won't usually strike up a conversation, he just... is there. Watches. May awkwardly ask a question or make a passing comment.

One scenario I imagine is you jokingly picking up one of his swords and wielding it around giggling and he just flips out, takes it from you and yells at you not to do that, are you an idiot? Do you want to trip and fall and have that impale you? Do you realize how easy it would be for you to slice your arm open by accident? It's startling to both you and anyone watching -- even for someone who gets yell-y as easily as him, it seems like an overreaction. He'll apologize but insist it's a safety thing, really.

And he really tries to hide his more... aggressive nature, because he thinks it will drive you away -- he's a blunt, tough guy with a short-fused temper, and he thinks that's definitely not something women like very much. He tries not to yell at you, not get mad so easy, keep his calm better around you, and might even be nicer to others so that you don't think he's mean. And for the most part, he can manage that. Except when it comes to a very specific, very problematic blonde crew member. His little conflicts with Sanji get worse, to even a point that he's snapping at him so frequently that even Sanji himself is a bit bewildered and caught off guard by it. The others notice they fight a lot more often... and Zoro always seems to instigate it, picking quarrels over the littlest things. In reality, he's afraid of the other's... sleazy nature. He can't have you falling for that bastard. He even starts to get jittery when you're in the presence of Franky, Usopp, hell even Luffy of all people. It's noticeable, and everyone kinda worries for him.

He kicks himself for it as soon as he does it, but he finds himself insulting you nonetheless. It's a terrible habit. He gets so awkward and flustered that it's second nature for him to say something snarky or even rude when you talk to him, and he immediately is just mentally screaming at himself for doing so. This will get a bit better with time, though, if you two talk more often.

Now, even if you can fight, you're never gonna really get the opportunity. In battle, he's clinging to you and protecting you at every moment, even if it costs the others some unnecessary wounds. It's highly uncharacteristic of him, and they notice. He won't leave your side, insisting that you're a weak fighter and that he has to take care of you. You just don't get it, you overestimate yourself, you underestimate your enemies, you're a girl. What, Nami and Robin? Well, they've been at this much longer than you, and they had rough upbringings. You're different. You're soft... fragile. You just can't see it. You're lucky he's here to protect your dumbass.

Due to your setup, well, he can't really kidnap you per se. He undoubtedly would if you two were somewhere else, in another life or another setting, but that's not really an option, and even as a yandere, he would never go so far as to kill or abandon his crew. So, he's stuck with just... slowly, slowly mentally deteriorating.

Now, he's not capable of kidnapping, he's not smart enough to really manipulate you into anything (although he WILL tell you that some of the other guys are out to use you), so, he's left to be the guard dog he inevitably becomes to you. If you avoid him, he'll just follow you. If you don't talk to him, that's ok. If you confront him, he'll just insist he has no idea what you're talking about, and you'll start to feel like maybe you're just paranoid. The others... don't really know what to do, to be honest. I can see Nami/Robin potentially confronting him, but in the end, they can't force him to change his behaviors, and they can't afford to lose him. This results in, gradually, everyone slowly kind of accepting your dynamic onboard. They feel bad for you, really, but... in the end, Zoro's just more valuable to the crew. Sorry. They're not gonna get rid of him, but they don't want to get rid of you either.

If you leave? It may just be one of the very very few things that could ever cause him to leave the Strawhats. It would tear him up, really, it goes against his dreams, his pride, his loyalty, but in the end... his loyalty is first and foremost to you. He'll follow you if you leave. It's a bad move on your part, because this gets rid of the only thing standing between you and kidnapping. Which, at that point, surely will happen. Like his other behaviors, he'll feel bad, he'll try and stop himself, tell himself it's wrong, but you'll end up bound in some dark basement nonetheless. He's one to take a very simple approach. Find you alone, sling you up and over his shoulder and carry you off before anyone can come.

Rejection doesn't faze him. No matter what, he'll remain by your side. Even if you never love him in return. It's just his nature, he's a guardian through and through.

In the end, he'll be right there by your side, scaring off any competitors, clinging to you like glue, ever in your presence like a shadow, forever. Whether you want him to or not. He's just an inescapable force, an unmovable object, and you're wasting your time trying to change your fate.

Now, he's very flustered with anything sexual. Highly embarrassed, lots of shame, and doesn't talk much about it. It just kind of happens. He doesn't talk much during, mostly grunts and the occasional fuck when you clamp down, occasionally asking you if you're ok, if it hurts, if it feels good. It's one of the only very soft sides of him. In the end, he really, truly loves you, and doesn't want to hurt you, he wants you to feel good and just love him. It's a very different side to him, one no one else has ever really seen, it's the most vulnerable he himself has ever been with another person.

He feels shame for it, but initially he'll definitely be one to steal your things, sit outside of your room at night, listening to you through the wall, try and get glimpses of you bathing or dressing. He really, really feels guilty, and he's one that will, once you're comfortably restrained and never going anywhere, just sit down and list out every nasty little thing he's ever done regarding you, just to get it off his chest. He understands if you react badly, and he'll apologize, which is a bit ironic considering how much worse kidnapping you is.

He'll apologize for that, too. He's actually one to do so a lot. He's normally a proud guy, but with this? He knows it's wrong, he knows it's fucked up. He knows he can't stop. And he'll be sorry to the moon and back. Just never sorry enough to stop.

He's actually a pretty vanilla guy. Hand-holding missionary type. And, despite being so embarrassed over it all, oddly romantic about it. It's one of the only things he's ever soft and gentle about, it's almost unbelievable to you that he's capable of being so gentle and slow with anything. But he'll kiss your forehead, really take his time with it all, make you cum on his fingers before ever actually fucking you. Hold your hand, look into your eyes. It would be honestly incredibly sweet if it weren't... you know, taking place in some dark sealed off room after dragging you there against your will.

If he's particularly mad, he can get rougher, but he'll apologize after. It's a lot of harsh grabbing, biting, it leaves bruises that he'll rub over softly, whispering an apology, even if a little part of him likes the way it looks on you.

#lena's asks #yandere x reader #yandere zoro #yandere one piece

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Go the Distance

Prompt: Hello, I absolutely adore your work 🥺😍🥺 your Sanders Sides angst is just so goooood!!! If you're up to it, I'd love to request a fic <3 Virgil has noticed [side(s?) of your choice; they're all good choices, I can't decide ;-;] has been distant and avoiding him and he just can't figure out what he did wrong but it's actually because [side] loves him and are trying to take some time to 'get rid of/push down their feelings' The angster the better but don't push yourself ^ Feel free to add or change whatever Have a great day and no worries if you don't do this 💜💜💜~@im-an-anxious-wreck 💜🖤

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re the best

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, some lite™ angst

Pairings: prinxiety, background platonic dlampr because found family dynamics motherfuckers

Word Count: 4191

Virgil and Roman's relationship hasn't always been, well, great. But it's been getting better!

Or, at least, it was.

Listen, Virgil knows he and Roman haven’t exactly had the most…painless history. Virgil’s introduction to the series was Thomas telling Roman his dream was to get rid of him and, well, Roman was first and foremost loyal to Thomas. Then the whole…insult thing, ducking out, and the absolute mess of the callback wedding debacle, it’s not exactly been smooth sailing.

But—okay, and maybe they’d been a little harsher about things than absolutely necessary, and maybe Roman got hit with the consequences of their fights more than Virgil, and maybe Virgil hadn’t exactly been…overwhelmingly accepting of all of Princey’s little ticks.

But they’d still been talking!

After the wedding, no one was on good terms with anyone save Patton and Janus—and wasn’t that the shock of a lifetime—and Remus and Virgil. Because they made the smart choice and decided ‘nope, fuck that, I’m out.’

It was a good choice. You have any idea how high their scores are in GTFO now? The first rundown’s a fucking cakewalk.

Anyway.

They’d been talking! Virgil still doesn’t know exactly what happened right after—he saw the video, of course he saw the video, but Roman sunk right to his room and there’s a good twelve hours between that and the next time Virgil saw him—but Roman had come out and approached him!

Probably because he was still hurt by the end of the video—which oof, Virgil does not blame him for, that was harsh—and his only options were Logan, Virgil, and Remus and Logan, um, didn’t want to see anyone for a while and Remus is Remus.

Side note: those two have been getting on better. Something about their twin Creativity thing meant Remus knew that Roman was hurting bad before even Thomas did.

But Roman did seek him out, asking him quietly if he had a moment, just a moment, to sit together. Virgil had shrugged and passed it off as nothing only for Princey to literally sit on the floor and not make a fucking noise. He’d frowned and poked his shoulder, asking if he was alright.

“Perfectly fine, Dark and Stormy,” Roman had said lightly, “and I’ll leave you in a moment.”

“But you’re…” Virgil had waved to his silent form. “…not acting like you normally do.”

Roman had laughed. “And here I thought I’d never hear you say you missed me being loud.”

“Now let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Sure enough, a few more seconds had passed and Roman had gotten up, quietly bid Virgil good day, thanked him, and left.

You bet your ass Virgil sunk straight into Patton’s room to ask hey what the fuck did you do to Roman.

Patton had sighed and said that they’re not sure what to do now—‘they’ being Janus and Patton. Virgil, still recovering from the whiplash of those two being close had shaken his head and told them to get it the fuck together.

If he sunk into Remus’s room to ask how to take care of Roman, that’s his business. It’s also his business if he tackled Princey in a hug two minutes later.

So. Talking.

Roman, for all he talks, doesn’t really say much. The few things he does say are easily passed off as jokes, off-handed comments that no one really pays much attention to.

Not that anyone pays nearly enough attention to Roman, come on, guys, he makes it easy.

But Roman talked to Virgil. He’d come in and sit and Virgil would sit next to him, trying to make sure his arm didn’t burst into flames from where it was pressed against Princey—the dude’s a fucking space heater, okay?—just to listen. Some of the time it was Disney rants—okay, most of the time it was Disney rants—but some of the time…

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Roman looked down at his costume. Today was repair day, unofficially called when Virgil’s hoodie ripped during the night and Roman’s sword cut through his sleeve. Virgil looked up from his own mass of fabric, needle stuck in carefully so he wouldn’t prick himself. He frowned at the look on Roman’s face.

“What’s up, Princey?”

“Do you think my logo looks bad?”

Virgil blinked in shock. Roman didn’t look up and see the surprise on his face, instead running his thumb slowly over the patch on the costume.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Princey?”

“It’s so complicated,” Roman said, still looking down, “Logan and Patton have really simple ones. You have a pretty simple one.”

“Janus doesn’t. Remus doesn’t.”

“Yeah, but they’re…”

Virgil frowned deeper, putting his hoodie on the ground and shifting closer to Roman. The prince didn’t even look up, still clutching his logo in his hands.

“They’re what, Roman?”

Roman swallowed. “…allowed.”

A growl sounded from Virgil’s throat before he knew what was happening.

“And you’re not?”

“Hmm?”

“And you’re not allowed, Roman?” Virgil gripped his shoulder. “Look at me, Princey.”

Roman looked up. Virgil swallowed another growl at the despondent look on the prince’s face. Instead, he gripped Roman’s shoulder tighter.

“No one,” he said firmly, “is allowed to tell you your logo is bad. You hear me?”

Roman blinked.

“I mean it, Roman,” he said, softening his voice a little, “it’s you. It’s yours, no one’s allowed to tell you it’s wrong.”

“So that’s…okay?”

“Yeah, Princey, it’s okay.”

“Oh.” Roman looked back down at his costume. “Okay. Thank you, Virgil.”

“Anytime.”

Virgil would come to be astounded at how much he means that.

Because, really, now that Roman’s talking? Virgil’s fucking shocked that they didn’t realize how much Roman actually has to offer.

First off, Princey’s smart as hell. Sure, L’s the resident braincell but you can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time.

If Logan tries to tell you he’s not a dumbass sometimes he is wrong.

Roman can puzzle solve with the best of them. Do you have any idea how much brainpower it takes to write a story? A script? Understand how all those moving parts fit together and make sense as a whole? Virgil sure as hell didn’t. He spent one afternoon trying to help Roman only for it to end up as Roman explaining what he was doing and Virgil frantically trying to keep up. Don’t even get him started on how impressive the Imagination stuff is.

“It’s my job, Fall Out Brood,” Roman laughs every single time Virgil expresses how fucking cool this is, “have to be good at something.”

And Roman is. He’s good.

Second: Patton may be the heart, Logan may be the brains, but no one is as good at reassuring him as Roman. Probably has something to do with the Creativity gig. Roman had asked, politely, if Virgil would be comfortable telling him what to do when he gets really anxious, whether to leave him alone, get him somewhere safe, get him things, what have you. Virgil had told him, bemused, only to be shuttled into somewhere that screamed safewarmcomfortableeverythingisokay the next time he had a panic attack. Roman, with the lack of shame truly becoming of a theatre kid, had no problems cheering him up by loudly declaring he would fight whatever shadowy figures plagued his little nightmare, swatting at the air with his sword until Virgil’s sobs had turned into giggles. He never made Virgil talk about anything if he didn’t want to, didn’t try to sit and work through things if they weren’t ready, and never touched him unless he’d gotten the okay. The first time Virgil told him he’d be fine with receiving hugs in the aftermath was the warmest he’d felt in years.

Princey gives really good hugs.

Third: Roman’s fucking funny.

Remember the whole ‘smart as hell’ thing? Know how Logan’s funny as fuck too when he lets himself be?

Virgil’s lost count of how many times he’s had to gasp out for Roman to shut the fuck up because his sides hurt too much from laughing. He ends up sprawled across the fucking floor or the couch or Princey’s bed, dying very happily but painfully because Roman won’t stop making him laugh.

Most of the time it’s due to something they’re watching and Roman’ll notice some detail that he picks apart until they’re both howling or Virgil will make one sarcastic comment that turns into a full fucking bit for like…ten minutes. Roman will just keep riffing off of the smallest thing until he’s laughing too hard to keep going—not very likely—or Virgil will flail out desperately and smack him—much more likely.

Princey said he makes fun of the things he loves.

…maybe that’s why he doesn’t make fun of Virgil anymore.

Virgil curls tighter around the pillow, clutching it to his chest. As he rubs his cheek against it, he grimaces. It’s too rough. It’s not warm enough. It doesn’t smell right.

They’d been talking. It had been good.

But that was before.

Before Roman had cautiously approached Logan with an apology, the offering of a new planner for him, the promise to listen to him, hear him out, give him space to speak. Logan had accepted.

Before Roman had opened the border between his and Remus’s side of the Imagination, sending a little puppy scuttling over to his brother’s castle with a note, a dagger, and a vial of acid. It returned as a kitten with a beautifully poisonous rose.

Before Roman had finally, finally, after days of trying, opened the door when Patton knocked, letting him come inside so they could talk, about everything that happened since…well, ever. They hadn’t stopped hugging long enough to walk down the stairs.

Before Roman had let Janus, Janus, take care of him.

And now…

Now Roman didn’t want to be in the same room as him.

It feels as if they’re walking on eggshells around each other again, Virgil appearing in a room only for Roman to completely disappear, getting up and leaving a conversation entirely just to avoid him, Virgil knocking on Roman’s door only for Roman to shout that he’s busy, not to come inside, Virgil, trying, trying to figure out where Roman’s gone, what’s happened, only to receive the cold shoulder.

A problem none of the other Sides seemed to be having.

He clutches the pillow to his chest.

Did he—did he do something wrong?

Does Roman—does Roman not like him anymore?

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard about talking to the others. Roman needed space, needed time, he didn’t need someone else breathing down his neck. He should’ve let Roman set the pace, listened more, been kinder to him when he needed reassurance.

Maybe he shouldn’t have made Roman think it was his fault that the others were taking so long, or suggested that if he wanted things to get better he should try talking first. Roman had been taught by everyone else that things were his fault already, Virgil didn’t need to jump on that train too.

Maybe he should’ve been kinder to Roman, less focused on making the others understand that they hurt Roman. Everyone in the Mindscape knew that Roman was hurt, Virgil should’ve helped fix that, taken care of Roman, not pushed the blame onto everyone else.

Maybe Roman didn’t like what he had to say about Disney films. They were Roman’s comfort watches, the last thing he needed was for someone to cruelly rip away his enjoyment of one of the few things he could enjoy.

Maybe Roman didn’t like Virgil’s way of taking care of him. Virgil never pushed, never did Roman the courtesy of asking, like Roman did with him, just assumed he knew best how to comfort someone and left it there. Roman might’ve needed more hugs, more time, less distraction, just something other than what Virgil gave him.

Maybe Roman didn’t like how much Virgil ended up hoarding him to himself. Not letting him go to the others for comfort, just to work things out. Maybe he thought Virgil was just keeping him upset so he could hang out with him more.

Or maybe…

Virgil muffles his sob in the pillow.

Maybe Roman needed or wanted him anyway.

Maybe Roman was just waiting until he could get the comfort he actually wanted. Maybe he waited until the others were easier to talk to so he could go back to what he really needed. Maybe Virgil was just a placeholder until Roman could get hugs from Patton and Remus, talk with Logan and Janus, not him. Never him.

Maybe that’s…okay.

It’s not, it won’t be fucking okay for a long time, but one day, it will be okay.

Virgil curses and throttles the pillow in his arms, wishing for it to be real, to be warm, to be a chest of white and gold and a splash of red, for it to wraps its arms around him and say it’s okay, shadow-ling, I’m here, I won’t leave you, shh.

But it’s just a pillow.

Has his room always been this cold?

Have Disney movies always looked this flat?

Has music always sounded this gray?

Has Virgil always been this alone?

He can hear them in the living room below him. He can hear Roman and Logan throwing quips back and forth, can hear Remus tackling his brother into the wall, and Roman protesting. He can hear Janus scolding Remus and checking to make sure Roman’s not injured, can hear Roman wave him off gently and go right back to verbally sparring with Logan. He can hear Patton laughing too hard, falling off the couch and begging the two of them to let up, let him breathe, can hear Roman coo and call him sweet, adorable, in that soft voice he only uses when he’s talking to someone he cares about.

Can’t hear any of them worrying about where he is.

Maybe it’s better this way.

He got greedy, took too much of what was never his to take, what wasn’t given to him freely. He latched onto the first thing he thought was for him and didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t. He may think he’s been included in the famILY but he knows he’s still an outsider.

He may be Virgil now but deep down he’ll always be Anxiety.

So here he will stay, in the cold of his room, in the dark of his face smushed into a pillow that will never be real. He will stay and he will be happy.

But not today.

He sniffles and smears his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie, not bothering to pull away from the pillow long enough to wipe tears properly. His limbs start to protest as he hugs it tighter, tighter, tighter, but it’s no use. He can feel his own arms through the pillow. There isn’t enough—there’s too much give in the pillow. It’s just a fucking pillow but it’s not enough.

Another laugh from downstairs and Virgil growls, burying his head in the pillow until he can’t hear himself think.

Can’t hear anything but his own muffled sobs ringing in his ears.

Can’t hear anything other than the thought swirling around and around his head that he’ll never be enough, that he’ll never be wanted, that he’ll never be anything other than Anxiety.

Can’t hear the soft knock at the door.

“Virgil?”

The voices in his head must be getting pretty powerful because he’s certain he can hear Roman calling for him. He buries deeper in the pillow.

“Virgil? Virgil, can you hear me?”

Yes, he thinks, yes, I can hear you, which means I’m not crying hard enough.

“Can I come in, shadow-ling?”

Yes, he thinks, come in and make me forget that you don’t need me anymore.

He must really be losing it because he thinks he can hear the door open and close again with a soft click, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a soft coo.

“Oh, shadow-ling,” the imaginary Roman murmurs, “come here, little Stormcloud.”

Oh, his imagination is being cruel to him right now because the sensation of warm arms around his waist and shoulders fucking burns. He buries his face in the pillow until he can’t tell which way is up anymore, not sure how he’s tricked himself into imagining Roman’s cradling him but too unwilling to let the illusion go.

“That’s right, Stormcloud, relax for me, I’ve got you, I’m right here, shh, shh, you’re alright,” the imaginary Roman keeps whispering in that cruelly soft voice, “you’re doing great, shadow-ling.”

Virgil wants him to be real. So bad he aches from it. But he knows he’s not.

What happens next breaks his fucking heart.

The imaginary Roman kisses him.

It’s chaste, a barely-there brush of his lips against his forehead but it tears a whine out of Virgil’s throat before he can stop it. The imaginary Roman hushes him gently, pressing another kiss to the part of his cheek not buried in the pillow and it taunts him with how real it feels. The slightly chapped lips, the warm rush of air as Roman breathes, the light brush of his nose as he pulls away.

It’s too much.

It’s too much and he wants it to be real so badly but he knows the instant he pulls away it will vanish and that might just break him.

Then he realizes the imaginary Roman is talking to him.

“Breathe, Stormcloud, you’ve got to breathe,” he coaxes, “I know it’s tempting to stay buried in a pillow all day, but you can’t breathe properly like that, sweetheart.”

No, no, don’t call me sweetheart, I’ll break.

“Shadow-ling, Stormcloud, my darling,” the imaginary Roman says instead, “come on…”

Well, now he’s disappointing imaginary Roman too. Figures. He can’t do anything right.

“Of course you can,” the imaginary Roman pleads, “just breathe for me, shadow-ling, I’m right here, I’ve got you, you can keep your eyes closed if you need to, just breathe.”

Another whine. Another kiss pressed against his head. The whine grows louder.

“Shh, shh, my darling,” imaginary Roman murmurs, “breathe, come on, just—trust me, okay? Can I ask that of you, Stormcloud?”

And goddamnit, this is why Virgil can’t do anything.

Virgil trusts him.

So he prepares himself for heartbreak and lifts his head.

“Thank you, shadow-ling,” imaginary Roman—wait, he’s still here?—murmurs, rubbing his back, “there you go, now just breathe—oh! Oh, come here, lean on me, I’ve got you.”

Having listed to the side horribly, Virgil lands against a solidwarmsafereal chest and—and—

“R-Roman?”

“Yes, my darling,” not imaginary Roman says, still kissing Virgil’s forehead, “I’m here, I’m here.”

White-hot rage burns Virgil’s tears.

He lets out a yell and shoves, not caring that it throws them both horribly off-balance, threatening to send him tumbling to the floor. He hears Roman cry out, trying to keep ahold of him, but he scrabbles and gets his hands around the bedpost and pulls.

“Virgil—Virgil stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“

“Why do you care?” The rage coats his tongue. “You fucking left, you—you—you fucking didn’t care about me anymore, you decided you didn’t want me anymore and you fucking left so don’t try and care now!”

“Virgil—sweetheart, I—“

“Don’t fucking call me that!” He keeps his eyes squeezed tight. “You didn’t give a fuck about me when you left, when you got your fucking family back, you think—you think you can just waltz back in like you didn’t abandon me?”

“Virgil—“

“Because you did, Roman!” Virgil blindly shoves at where the prince was before, knocking him into the wall. “You fucking left me as soon as you got the others back like I—like I never did anything for you and now you—now you can’t even look at me.”

“I’m looking at you now.”

Virgil laughs.

He throws his head back and howls until his chest and throat ache.

“You didn’t give a shit when the others started talking to you. You just fucking up and abandoned me like you never cared about me in the first place. You replaced me with them or—or abandoned me as your placeholder and I’m fucking hurt, Roman.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Silence.

Virgil’s heart stops.

No.

No, no, no, no—

He fucked up.

He fucked up so bad.

Roman left.

Roman’s not here anymore.

Roman left again, he made Roman leave, he—he fucked up so bad, he shouldn’t have yelled, he’s fucked up, he hurt Roman, no, no, no, no—

On instinct, his hands hook into claws.

Only to be caught by warmsolidreal hands and brought to something soft.

“Don’t,” comes Roman’s softsaferealhurt voice, murmuring in his ear as he holds him still, “don’t scratch, sweetheart.”

“Don’t—“

“I know, I know,” Roman says immediately, “you said not to call you that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

…what?

“I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” comes the voice again, “that’s no excuse, I know, but please, Virgil, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to abandon you.”

Virgil swallows. “What the fuck do you call it then?”

“I didn’t want to push my luck.”

What?

“You were being so good to me, Virgil,” Roman murmurs, oblivious to the internal struggle Virgil’s currently facing, “so kind, so supportive, that I…I realized I wanted to ask more from you. Things I had no business asking. And the longer you kept on being you, the harder it was to resist the urge to push and risk shattering everything you’d let me build with you.”

“What—“ Virgil swallows— “what the fuck did you want?”

Roman stills in front of him. With his eyes still shut, he can’t tell what’s going on, but when Roman speaks next his voice is hoarse.

“Before I ask,” comes the whisper, “I want you to know that you have every right to say no. You can push me away, shove me out of your room, stay angry at me for as long as you want. I’ve hurt you, badly, and I have no right to ask this of you. I want you to know that. That I’m okay with you asserting that right.”

Fuck, Princey.

“…what do you want?”

A pause. Then a soft rush of air, right on his face.

“May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

Oh.

Oh, no.

“R-Roman?”

“That’s it,” Roman murmurs and oh, his mouth is right next to Virgil’s, “that’s what I want, shadow-ling.”

He shifts a little until Virgil can feel Roman’s warmth.

“That and everything that goes with it.”

“Why—why did you leave? I-if that’s what you wanted?”

“Because that would mean to push,” Roman says immediately, “and the last thing I wanted was to push you away. I thought if I could…rein it in, control it, I could…I wouldn’t hurt you.”

A soft chuckle.

“Look how well that turned out.”

“But the others—“

“I needed Remus to tell me what was going on,” Roman says wryly, “Janus to point out that I was okay in wanting something, Patton to help me figure it out, and Logan to kick my ass into doing it.”

“To…to ask me?”

“Yes, Stormcloud,” comes the whisper, “to ask you.”

“And if I say yes?”

He can feel Roman’s lips turn up.

“…then I’ll kiss you, Stormcloud.”

“Are you really here?”

The question bursts out of him before he can stop it, immediately biting his lip in reprimand for letting it.

“Open your eyes, Virgil,” Roman says softly, “look at me.”

He shakes his head, not wanting it to be imaginary. Not now, not after this. Roman squeezes his hands.

“Look at me, Stormcloud,” he whispers, “look at me.”

Fuck it.

Roman smiles at him, real and warm and soft and here. He squeezes Virgil’s hands again and takes the smallest step closer.

“I’m here,” he says, wrapping Virgil’s arms around his neck, “I’m right here, shadow-ling.”

He’s here.

This won’t fix everything. But it’s one hell of a start.

“Ask me again.”

“May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

Virgil shakes his head. “Not like that. Ask me properly.”

Confusion dances on Roman’s face before realization hits. His smile widens and he brings a hand to Virgil’s head. Virgil clutches Roman tight as he gets dipped into the prince’s arms. Roman leans forward until his mouth almost catches Virgil’s.

“May I kiss you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

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infinitegalahad · 3 years

Note

Hi! Request with prompt “i’m not jealous!” “you’re clearly jealous.” With nixon please? I love jealous nix! Lol 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙 You’re the best!!!

WASHING MACHINE HEART

Prompts: "I'm not jealous!" and "You're clearly jealous"

Gif Credit: @andrewhaldane

Summary: Nothing ever lasts forever, everybody wants to rule the world. You are pretty much the only person who could change the way Lewis operates, and that's exactly what you do-change him.

Word-Count: 4.8k

WARNINGS!!!: semi-not healthy relationship, alcohol abuse, investment to lovers, sugar daddy/baby, semi-age gap (21-28?), a

Notes: Life lesson learned. Never listen to Mitski or Lana Del Rey when having thoughts about Lewis Nixon being your sugar daddy? Why you may ask? Because it will destroy you. This request was so fun to do, thank you op! I haven't written for Nixon before, so I apologize if he's a little too OOC. Also warning, this is defiantly not the most healthiest relationship, and I realize that. But they try to make it work. Also while writing this, I listened to @web-gott's lewis Nixon playlist and all of her playlists r GREAT BUT THAT DESTROYED ME. great job ily. anyways enough rambles! enjoy!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @ask-you-what-sir @web-gott

Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!

“You want me to be you’re what?”

Nearly spitting out drinks, Vat 69 mixed with vodka (A Nixon classic). It was quite a bizarre offer. Maybe Lewis had drunk too much, which was a common habit. But you made eye contact with him and he had a shit eating grin on your face. You let out an awkward laugh, and he followed suit.

You had been Lewis’s assistant operations officer since Caretan, there with him through a demotion, a divorice, and all of the other wonderful things that happened in his life. Not only was he your boss, but someone you confided in. He would confine in you, you would confide in him with stolen alcohol-it was a perfect example of mutualism. It’s as if you were his therapist at first, then a friend, and then a friend with benefits. Everything was kept under wraps, of course, for both of you to honor your diginites. Besides, you wouldn't wanna tarnish Lewis’s relationship with your father-considering that he was his boss, a Major general for the 101rst Airborne Division.

“A confidante. Companion. Confrère.” Nixon explained as he poured more vodka into your empty cup, which was not a good sign, “Miss Nixon won’t leave her baby boy alone. If I show her I have someone on my arm, she’ll shut up.”

“So let me get this straight. I go back home with you to New York, attend a party with you, be your arm candy, and you pay me?” You summarized his point, swimming the drink in your hands.

“Money, gifts, whatever you want, I can give you,” Lewis promised. He leaned against the railing as you looked at him. Your elbows grazed against each other. Resting your chin on your palm, you went deep into this arrangement.

The war had ended in The Pacific, so you could finally go home. As much as you were excited to leave and finally get back home, you’d miss Nixon. Sure, you’d be in Bronxville and he’d be Manhattan, only a train ride apart. Yes, he was a total asshole, but he was your asshole. The two of you had been together through thick and thin. Your parents would never approve of an alcoholic divorcee, but there was something inside of him that made you fill up with nervous excitement.

You could hear your mother’s voice, scolding you about the type of man Lewis was. Maybe he was a little too old, a little too broken, and a little too much for you, but that’s what attracted you to him. Over time, you learned that you and Nixon had much more in common. Both of you wanted to get away from your families. Hell, Nixon was paying for your college tuition at Sarah Lawenrece and when he had a weekend pass into Paris, you would come. For “work purposes”, but in all honesty it was for fine dining in Paris, shopping for the finest things in Champs-Élysées with Nixon, arm in arm wrapped under your finley manicured finger, and learning more about Miss Nixon’s best boy.

It was hard to let go of that. Everything he had done for you, and yet you were just friends with benefits. Still, after all you have gone through. It frustrated you. But after his divorce, you wanted to support him. He had lost everything, and without Dick, he was probably more lonely and hurt than ever. You wanted to be his comfort besides Vat 69. This arrangement could be an opportunity for the both of you. Maybe it would be more than an arrangement, but something bigger than that.

Lewis nudged your elbow as he raised a thick eyebrow, “Well, whatta’ say?”

“I say, why the hell not?” You accepted the offer, and the two of you clinked your drinks together. “So would we call this an arrangement? Be the pretty thing on your shoulder and you give me pretty things? Just like in Paris?”

“Just like Paris.” He reassured you, patting your shoulder. Sitting on a bench, he patted the spot next to you with his arm stretched out. “Sit with me?”

“Why I’d be honored too, good sir!” You dramatically stated for a comedic effect, which earned a smile from Lewis as you sat down right next to him. Moving close, both of your thighs caressed with each other. He adjusted and moved his free arm around you, bringing you close to him. You responded by laying your head on his chest, along with one of your hands.

Lewis didn’t say much besides drinking more from his cup, which kept getting refilled and gouged in seconds. There was a cold silence that filled the air. You kept adjusting in his hold, craving for that attention that wasn’t crude jokes or touch, but it always flew over his head. As he got lost in what the hell he was going to when he was home and the alcohol that poured in his system, you laid on his chest, waiting for that kiss, even though you knew that it wasn’t happening.

You closed your eyes as you laid there, pretending that Lewis was more than an arrangement for you.

The thing was, Lewis wasn’t dumb. He knew that too, but he didn’t know how to put it in words, so he used what he knew who to use best-money and gifts. Just as you always did.

A month after you had set up the arrangement, the two of you returned home. He went back to Manhattan, you went to Boxnville to attend Sarah Lawernce. Two months later, the week before you’re to head off to see your family in Florida, Nixon finally chooses to call you. After he ignores all your calls, letters, everything-he finally chooses to be a man. It doesn’t even feel like a relationship, which is what you wanted it to be. All of the effort you have made has gone to waste. Lewis looks as if he wants to keep it in an arrangement.

Normally, you’d appreciate the cash and all the lavish gifts, but money didn’t buy happiness.

His offer was simple. The Nixons were throwing a party at the Tribeca Rooftop, and it was bound to be full of every socialite in the Tristate area. Lewis asked for you to accompany him for the weekend. Separate rooms if you wanted, all of the dinners paid for by him, in exchange he gets arm candy and you get all the money you need. You considered using it to pay for rent, but after all-Lew was paying for everything, despite there being ignored communication.

It was hard to pass, and you were frustrated. But despite it all, you took up the offer. It was better than being stuck with your parents.

Once you accepted the offer, Lewis drove his Buggati down to Bronxville to pick you. You lived in a cramped apartment with a bunch of other Journalism majors. Seeing him outside of the window, you opened your window and waved.

“Look at what the devil dragged in.” You spat with a smile.

Lewis looked up at you, wearing those damn aviators he got in Austria. They had also been the ones that you had picked up for him, so it must have been sentimental.

“There you are,” He said, leaning against his car, “You coming?”

“Give me a minute!” You called and closed your window. Grabbing your keys and bag, you walked out of your room and towards the exit, only to see all of the girls who lived in your apartment ushered, admiring whatever the hell Nixon was to you. A friend, a sugar daddy, you truly had no idea.

One of the girls turned her head back to you, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe, “So, you’re the lucky one?”

You looked at her, slipping your boots on and tying them, “For?”

“A weekend in the city with a man who’s got money. Fancy dinners, fancy things, almost anybody would want it,” She explained, a tint of jealousy in her voice, “Just don’t come back pregnant.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” You confirmed. Once you finished getting your coat on, you waved goodbye to your flatmates, who all begged for you to bring nice things back to you, and even a man for them. The thought you made it chuckle, since they were truly all naive to what it was really like to be treated as an investment.

Walking down the stairs, you were greeted by Lewis, slouched on the front of the car and upon seeing you, straightened up. He began to walk towards you, and so do you. For once, he had cleaned himself up and looked like he was taking care of himself. It took you by surprise when he pulled you into a one armed hug, wrapping around your neck. You met with his chest, taking in his expensive cologne.

“Hey,” He mumbled into your shoulder as he held you close. Maybe for warmth, you thought. “I missed you.”

The cold layer you had felt upon seeing Lewis again had suddenly melted away. Normally, he wasn’t so sentimental. He was sarcastic and witty, but this time-he was different. Kinder, softer, just a little sadder. You put a hand up his armpit, also holding him close.

“Guess I did too,” You responded back. Breaking from the hug, the two of you looked at each other. You chuckled to yourself, not really knowing how to fill the silence.

“I’m glad you took up the offer, by the way.” Nixon added on. It made you look up and shrug your shoulders.

“It’s not like I wanna see my family.” Your shoes moved around on the icy ground, swishing the ice to the side. You were happy to see him, but there was just something about Lewis that was always sad. The same could be said about you, but he looked exhausted. Drained, emotionally and physically.

“Yeah, me either. But you make it tolerable,” Lewis said as he took your bag out of your hands, putting it on the back seat. The two of you got into his car. Before he started the car, Lewis threw a velvet case at you. You were taken by surprise and looked at him.

“Open it,” Lewis nudged his head.

Puzzled, you carefully opened the case and smiled. It was the Willsonite sunglasses, the tinted tortoise shell ones you had seen in Austria when roaming the streets with Lewis.

“It’s what all the girls in the city wear,” Lewis explained. He had picked out his gift with precision and care. Normally, all the girls would buy sunglasses for cheap at a stand at the beach, but hell-you were with the Lewis Nixon after all.

You put on the sunglasses and turned to Lewis, the glasses gently sliding down the bridge of your nose. “Is this your apology for neglecting me?”

Lewis leaned back, looking regretful. “I sent money, I sent the Mademoiselle perfume every month, I’m taking care of you-”

“That’s not what I want. I don’t-” You let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose. It was easy to get angry, but you contained yourself, trying to hide your anger. “I love the gifts, but I want one thing. You. I want to actually spend time with you.” You bit your lip, and the only reason you were going to say it was to keep Lewis, “I’m supposed to be your arm candy, aren’t I?”

“You’re more than arm-candy to me, y/n. I enjoy your company. You’re a great kid.” Lewis began to explain his case. His sunglasses fell down his face, revealing the eyebags, “I didn’t want you to know that I went to rehab.”

“What do you mean? That’s all I wanted for you.”

“I know-it’s just. It wasn’t pretty, and you’ve got a lot going through you. I didn’t wanna drag you down with me.”

Guilt tugged at your head. The last thing you wanted to do was make Lew feel guilty. The only way the arrangement was going to work is if Lewis got the help he needed. He repressed his problems, and you were stubborn and weren’t going down with a fight.

“Lew,” You cooed as you put your hand on his. He looked at you as you inhaled and exhaled, “I don’t give a shit about whether it was pretty or not. I’m just glad you’re getting help. Take the worry off of my back. I care, y’know.”

Lewis put his hand on top of yours and his dark eyes connected with yours. He looked deep into your soul as you sat there, a smile on your face. It was your motto to just sit and act pretty. It was backwards, but If it was for Lewis, then it had to work.

“You make everyday worth living.”

You were unable to respond, frozen. The ice barrier that you surround yourself with had melted away. The one thing in your mind was a kiss. It seemed appropriate. As you began to slowly lean forward, not to scare him away, Lewis removed his hands and put them on the wheel as he began to back out of the parking lot. You sat there, your hands once we’re Lewis rested.

“Let’s have a good weekend, okay?” Lewis says, and you clench your hands together. Putting on a smile, you put on the facade of the arm candy. It’s all a part of the game.

“I’d like that a lot,” You commented and moved towards the window. Putting your sunglasses back on, it earned a smile from Lewis as he drove the car. Now both you matched.

“I like those on a lot,” He complemented, “They bring out the shape in your face.”

You moved them down, winking at him. “My oh my. Someone’s coquettish today.”

The two of you chuckled as you drove down the road. As you merged onto the highway and saw the traffic, you made a polite request.

“Can we go down the west side highway instead of the FDR please? It gets down to Tribeca faster.”

“Sure,” Lewis said, his hand resting on the wheel. “Anything for little miss/mister y/n.”

You leaned against the window and smiled to yourself. You should’ve been happy, you had everything you ever wanted.

But the one thing-Lewis’s love.

Lewis’s apartment in Tribeca was wonderful, located on the top floor of the most expensive building in the city with glorious paintings, velvet chair, and a built-in fireplace and bar. For such a large place, it was empty, all besides his Daschuand puppy named Pepper. He got the dog since he felt lonely, but made your heart twitch. He let you choose whatever room you wanted, despite the look in his eyes. So, you choose to sleep with him in the master bedroom.

That night, you expected Lewis would want to have sex, but he wasn’t in the mood. Normally, that’s what it was. Fucking and money. But Lewis had changed. He just felt you close in bed, and the two of you walked about mundane things. Pepper, of course, slept in the bed since she was Nixon’s little girl. You fell asleep in his arms, and enjoyed the change of the pace.

The next morning, Lewis took you down to a restaurant on the water. When ordering drinks, he asked for a bloody mary-virgin. You ordered a mimosa-virgin as well.

“You realize that’s just orange juice, right?” Lewis commented as you leaned over the table.

“And you’re drinking raw tomato juice,” You snarked back, which made Lewis smirk. You saw the change in him from yesterday and today. So, you decided to question further. “So, did you quit?”

“Trying. Whenever I think of doing it, I think of you, throwing out every single bottle in my cabinet and threatening to leave me. And I don’t want that, so go figure.”

Under the table, Lewis’s legs crossed and held the ankle of your foot. You felt your cheeks grow pink, grasping onto the napkin on your nap.

“Why me by the way? Think about it. You’re a hermit socialite, I’m a college student. Those two don’t click well together,” You itched the back of your neck.

Lewis looked at you, his leg itching up your ankle. He thought you were joking as he furrowed his thick eyebrows. He stopped, straightening his posture. “Well you, my dear, are someone that isn’t easy to forget. I like making you happy. Also, who else would be paying your rent and tuition?”

“Myself.”

“Waste of money.” Lewis threw his hand up to shrug off the matter, “Where’s the fun in that?”

The waiter came over and put your drinks down. Lewis gave the waiter a thank you as you laughed to yourself. He was really good at playing his role.

“Y’know, you’re good at this stuff. The whole sugar daddy thing,” You let out a snort, taking a sip at your drink.

“I like making others happy. That’s what money does. Not for yourself, but others. When I take you shopping and I see your eyes light up, that’s what makes me happy,” Lewis acknowledged. The two of you looked at eachother. Not in that joking way, but it was romantic. Sweet. He loved to see you happy, and you loved to see him sober. It worked.

“Also, wherever you wanna go today, I’ll take you. But I do have one rule.”

“And what is it?”

“We stop at Lord and Taylors. I have another surprise in store.”

The surprise in store turned out to be an outfit for the Nixon’s party. It was nothing too flashy, but regal enough to make you feel like you were out of a fairytale. His goal was to make you the belle of the ball, and he never failed to under the assignment.

Nixon's party was what you expected it to be. Awkwardly meeting Lewis’s parents and his mother giving you a death glare, seeing the dark haired solicates drink, a jazz band, and the best part of the party-Blanche. She was the only one besides Nixon without a stick up her ass. Most of the party you and Nixon were arm in arm. You would occasionally lean against him, yearnin for his attention, but he’d be too busy with the supply of Vat 69.

You had that feeling in your gut, and it wasn’t a good one. It made you sick, anxious, nervous-all around horrible. The more he drank, the more the pit in your stomach would drop. So you went outside onto the patio to catch some fresh air, to be alone and stroll around. Hell, you were even wearing Nixon’s jacket and clutching to it like a child to it’s comfort blanket.

Strolling across the patio and watching the skyline, your moments of peace were interrupted by the distant yellings coming from a room with an open door. You walked down the line, realizing that the voice was Nixon’s.

“An escort at this party? Lewis, you usually disappoint me, but this is unacceptable!” An older gentleman cried, setting down his scotch.

“Do you see the way they were dressed! What a vixen…” A woman cried, who you presumed to be Miss Nixon herself.

“There is nothing like that. They chose to come-”

“Stop lying to yourself. Someone of that age and you, someone with money, is a recipe for disaster. How much do you pay them to accompany you?”

The words kept breaking your heart. You leaned against the window, as fishguard as you were, listening to every single world.

Under pressure, Lewis threw his hands up, “Fine. You know what? You’re right. I pay for what y/n wants. To make them happy and for them to accompany me. They are nothing more than an investment to me.”

Those words cut like ice, like a bullet to the heart. A hand wrapped around your mouth as he pushed away and began to walk away, unable to listen to another word. An investment! How pathetic you felt to think that after all this time, everything you had been through together, everything he had brought you was all for nothing. Just like you had been told, Nixon was using you for your youth or as a way to cope with his many divorces.

Naturally, you would have felt like running out of the place and getting on the next train to Bronoxville, never seeing Nixon again. But there was anger in your heart that burned brighter than any fire you had seen. The ice surrounded your heart once more. It was a party, after all. And you didn’t want to leave without leaving a mark. After all, you 're a vixen.

Long story short, you stormed back into the party and met another young soilciate. Typical asshole with too much money and his way paid into an Ivy League. You didn’t even catch his name as the two of you conversed, and he kept the alcohol pouring. The two of you sat on a couch, and he eventually cozied up to you, wrapping an arm to pull you close. Just as he was on the topic of bringing you to Montauk to the summer, Nixon, of course, had come by.

“Hey, smartass. What the hell are you doing?” Nixon spat, the alcohol evident in his voice.

Smartass was now his name, and you couldn’t even remember it. Smartness looked up at Nixon, shrugging, “Talking to this pretty little thing. Why don’t you go back to drinking and ruining your family name?”

That comment was enough to make Nixon throw a punch, once again bring shame to his family, and get the two of you kicked out of the party. Lewis tried to talk to you, but you ignored every word he said until you reached the apartment.

“What is your problem?” Nixon asked, closing the apartment door. You threw off his jacket, throwing it onto the ledge of the loveseat.

You let out a snort at his unbelievable behavior. He acted as if he did nothing wrong.

“Are you serious? What is your problem!” You hissed back, “You can’t control yourself in drinking, let alone with me hanging out with other men. Face it, you’re just some spoiled , jealous, alcoholic.”

Lewis ignored all of those other comments and chose to focus on the most petty of them. “I’m not jealous!”

“Ha! You clearly are!” You quickly quipped back, walking towards him as he pointed your finger at his chest. “Look at you! Getting all angry, throwing punches. Just for a little investment! After all, I’m just what you use when you need a distraction from all of your other life problems. Just like all of your failed marriages.”

Your eyes began to feel watery and you spun around, biting your lip as he attempted to hold it together. This hurts more than you wanted it to, and no matter what you did, the waterworks wouldn’t stop.

Despite being drunk, Lewis could sense what he did was wrong, and he fucked up-bad. He was drunk, frustrated, and had no control of what he was doing.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean that.”

“Like I mean anything to you,” You sniffled, wrapping your arms around yourself, “The only reason I came was because I wanted...something more than an arrangement. I, fuck-love you, damnit.”

There was a silence in the room, and you felt cold. Goosebumps trailed all over your body as you bit your lip to contain your sobs. Suddenly, a pair of arms held your shoulders and turned around. Knowing it was Nixon, you wanted to punch him, but your head fell into his chest as you let out a long sigh.

He rested his head in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you close to his warm body.

““I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that but yeah, I love you too.” Nixon said into your hair, drawing circles into your back. “How mad would you be if I kissed you?”

“Absouetly fucking furious.” You tilted your head up as Nixon grabbed your chin, and your lips collided. It was a beautiful and messy lip with lounges smearing against each other. The messier it got, the more passionate it was. Eventually, the kiss calmed into a fiery disaster into a slow moving dance. Through the kisses, you let out a moan, which made Nixon’s hand go lower down your back. You separated from the kiss to catch some air.

“Why’d you stop, my dear?”

You playfully slapped his chest, “You’re lucky you’re hot. Can we go to bed, please?”

The older man swooped you and carried you to bed, treating you like the royalty you were. Once you were placed in bed with Penny by your side, Lewis crawled in next to you, holding you close.

“That’s why I asked you to come, y’know. I wanted to tell you, but I thought you’d say no.”

“For someone so smart, you don’t pick up on cues. Lewis Nixon, I love you, but you’re an idiot sometimes.”

“I’m your idiot, dollface.” Nixon smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. You felt his body weight onto you as you patted his shoulder, giggling.

“Have you ever thought about how much worse our lives would be without each other?”

Lewis pressed little kisses into your hair before stopping his kissing parade to stare at you. He moved the bangs from your face, letting his hand rest on your skin. “The world could be on fire and I'd still be happy as long as I'm with you.”

Once again, Lewis brought you close and the two of you made passionate love. It wasn’t out of frustration or anger or a distraction, but it was raw, genuine, and emotional. It was all you ever asked.

A patterned knock on the door prompted you to stop unpacking the books from your book and to call, “Come in!”

Turning around, you saw Lewis walk in, along with Penny, who was scrambling in on her tiny feet.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in.” You smirked, and Lewis threw his arms up. He held a photo in his hand. You returned to putting the last of your textbooks on your desk, gently patting them down.

“How’s the unpacking going?” Lewis asked as he picked up Penny, who was squirming to attack your face with kisses. You walked over and gave both Penny and Lewis a quick peck. You admired your brand new Burkburnett Desk with Hutch. Photos, memorabilia from Europe, books, and pencils decorated your desk for school.

“Good. Turns out, living in a penthouse is a thousand times better than being a dormitory.” You said, leaning your shoulder against Lew’s as you played with Penny’s floppy ears. After some decision, Lewis had made your relationship official, but to both of your parents distaste. Your parents thought Lewis was a creep, his parents thought you were vixens. As Lewis said, the thanksgiving we're going to be interesting. So Lewis decided that you should move in with him, which you didn’t reject. Tribeca wasn’t that far from Bronoxville.

“Good girl/boy. I’m glad you already like it here.” Lewis cooed into your ear, placing a tender peck. “I got an addition for your desk.”

Lewis pulled the photo and showed you. A smile appeared on your face as you took the beautiful frame. It was a black and white photo of you and Lewis, having dinner on top of the Refinery Rooftop. Both of you had your hands together on the table, smiling as the sun set in the sky. Despite there being no colors, it was a breathtaking photo.

“I know just where to put this.” You breathed, walking towards your deck. Right next to your light and glasses was where the photo went. Next to it, a photo of Lew holding a two week old Pepper, a gift from Blanche. More like Blackmail according to Nixon, but you didn’t care. “There. Perfect. Now I’m all moved in.”

Lew snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder. You leaned back with a subtle smile, putting one of your hands on his own.

“Since you’re here to stay, I was thinking of dining in tonight. Blanche’s coming over too.”

“She is?” You hummed.

“Yup. I Want to see the new place, since you came in and cleaned it up.” Lewis mumbled, “How does that sound?”

“That sounds great. Just peachy, Lew.”

You and Lewis fell in love during the war. You were there for eachother in your worst moments and pulled each other up when you both needed it most. But nothing is ever easy in life. You fight. It’s rough. You fight, breakup, kiss, and makeup. With Lewis’s recovery and your family disowning you, the path down the road won’t be easy. You know that you and Lew will face thousands of hardships, but it’s ok. You have each other, and it’s not perfect at all. But it works, and that’s all that matters.

#carrie writes #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon imagine #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers headcanons #band of brothers masterlist #lewis nixon headcanon

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hold-our-destiny · 3 years

Text

5 times tony comforted Peter and the one time Peter comforted Tony

This is for @bluesweatshirt for the friendly neighborhood exchange!

(also i’m really sorry i couldn’t add in a cut off on mobile)

________________

Peter wasn't a sad person.

He wasn't too sad when his parents didn't come home from their business trip. Yeah, he was sad when Ben died- he died in front of him for god’s sake- but he didn’t show it, he sucked it up and helped May with the new struggles with money.

Peter wasn't sad, no. He was tired though.

God, he was so tired.

It had been two weeks since homecoming night and Peter was catering between not being able to sleep at all and waking up every night from nightmares.

This night was different, though.

Because for some reason… Mr Stark was in his nightmare.

It was never anyone but peter. Always Peter stuck under rubble, falling from a plane, stuck in the fire. Never anyone else so why now would it be Mr Stark?

That wasn’t exactly the first thought on his mind when he woke up.

___________

Peter woke up with a start, breath stuck in his chest, tears already escaping his eyes.

He threw the covers off him, needing to be free from the confines, before reaching for his phone.

He’s hurt, mr stark’s hurt and he can't help him- oh god he can't save him-

“Hello?” Mr Stark’s groggy voice shook him out of his thoughts.

“Mr Stark?” Peter asked, almost scared for any reply.

“Pete? You okay?” His mentor’s voice took on a new tone. Worry mixed with… something.

“Yeah, sorry, i just- I’m sorry for waking you- I’ll hang up now-”

“Peter. Are you okay?” The question made him want to cry, made him want to curl up and let it all out with how safe it made Peter feel.

“Yeah I’m-” he took a breath, “I’m fine,”

He could tell the billionaire knew he wasn’t, “Okay, well you might as well help me anyway,”

“Help you?”

“Yeah, i've been up for hours trying to figure this problem out,” He lied.

“O-okay”

The mechanic explained the problem to him, Peter letting the words wash over him, breathing through the explanation. He pretended not to notice when Mr Stark didn't ask for his thoughts, when he reminded him to breathe every now and then, just letting his words soothe the kid from the evident panic attack he’d just gone through.

God, he was so out of his element.

Maybe this was a good thing- maybe it was good for him to comfort this kid- this kid who he barely knew. Just for tonight, only tonight.

Tony was tired. No, scratch that- he was fucking exhausted.

He was pretty much ready to drop on that wednesday, ready to curl up in his king size bed and sleep for 16 hours straight.

And yeah, maybe he forgot it was lab day.

Peter walked- more like stumbled- through the lab doors, somehow racing and also shuffling to his seat, dropping his bag with a thud and sitting in his chair in almost the same manner.

Peter’s hair was messy, curls more unruly than usual, and Tony would bet that if he could see the kid’s eyes, they wouldn’t look healthy.

“Hey kid,”

No answer.

“You okay?”

A delay, then a slight nod. Peter still hadn’t put anything in front of him, just simply sitting at the desk.

“You wanna skip lab day today?”

Peter’s head shot up, eyes wide and concerned. And yeah, Tony was right, he had dark bags under his eyes.

“What? Is something wrong? Do you need me to leave?” Tony raised a hand to stop him.

“No- no- I mean more like…” He didn’t know how he was going to say this, “I’m pretty tired right now, do you wanna just order a pizza and chill out on the couch?”

Peter looked at him suspiciously, before nodding, already getting up and heading to the other room.

Yeah, tony thought to himself, you’re doing okay

______--

Peter was passed out on the couch within 5 minutes, remote laying in his limp hand and head lolled to the side awkwardly.

Tony brought the pizza in, setting the boxes down on the coffee table and gently shook Peter awake.

“Hey, kid,” He whispered as Peter woke up, matching the tone to the dark room, “You wanna have something to eat? Or at least get into more of a comfortable position,”

Peter nodded groggily, sitting up so Tony could sit next to him, legs touching as Peter moved closer. Tony raised his arm up and around the back of the couch, resting on the teenager’s shoulders and allowing him to relax into the billionaire.

Tony put a random star wars film on the tv, letting it drift into background noise as the kid fell asleep next to him.

For years, Tony had been scared of fucking a future kid up, becoming his father and eventually pushing everyone away. Somehow, now, his fears have receded, his mind reassuring him repeatedly.

He trusts you. You’re doing okay.

Peter woke up under rubble.

No, no, this wasn’t a nightmare. The air was too thick, dust invading his airways. He choked on it as he took a breath. It was too dark, way too dark, the rocks were crushing him, piercing his skin in multiple places. He groaned with the weight, reaching for his watch instinctively.

He pressed the side button three times, letting red light illuminate his surroundings and trying to breathe with the rubble pushing down on his chest.

His watch lit up blue, and Tony’s voice started speaking through it.

“Peter? Pete- you there?”

“Y-yeah I’m here” He choked out, a waver in his voice.

“Okay, how are you feeling, kid?”

“I- The rubble- it’s crushing me- i can’t-” His breath started to speed up at the reminder, panic invading his senses.

“Kid- kid! You gotta calm down, okay? We’re getting you out now, i promise- we’re gunna get you out real soon- but you gotta calm down for us to do that, okay?”

Peter made an affirmative noise, closing his eyes and trying to even out his breaths. His memories were resurfacing much quicker than he could cope with and Tony’s voice was only helping slightly. Peter didn’t know what he was saying, letting the noises meld together in his mind as he calmed himself.

After a few minutes- or hours, he didn’t know- he’d calmed down somewhat, finally able to focus on the voice coming out of his watch.

“We’re getting you out of there now, kid. You’re doing so good for me, Pete- just keep breathing for me, okay?”

With the panic receding now, Peter was much more aware of his surroundings. He was also aware of the fact that his brain was slowing down, unable to process things as quickly as he normally could. There was a reason for that in the back of his mind but he couldn’t reach it.

There was something wet underneath him, soaking up into his clothes, he didn’t like that. He wanted to move away from it but only made it hurt worse when he tried- he cried out in pain.

“T-tony!”

There was a scuffle on the other end of the line- “Yeah, pete? You okay?- what’s happening?”

“T’ny- t- tony! T’y please- g’t me out- please- please- i- i can’t-”

“Peter- what’s happening?”

“H’rts- my- my chest- there’s- it’s-” The panic was back now, confusing him even more than before, “S’mthing- und’r- something wet- under me- t’ny please-”

“Shit- Peter- Pete- breathe, okay kid? Breathe for me. We’re gunna help you,”

Peter took a breath, then another, and another, steadying his heart before whimpering when the rubble shifted, “Kid, we’ve almost got you. I need you to stay awake, okay? We’re gonna get to you soon but you gotta stay awake so you can tell us if we move the wrong thing, okay?”

Peter made an affirmative noise again, wanting nothing more than to move away from the pain, but listening to Tony.

Tony talked again a while later, surprising Peter when he did.

“Pete? You still awake for me, bud?”

“Y-yeah im- im here,”

He heard Tony breathe out slowly, “That’s good, Pete. We’re only a few feet away from you, but the next thing we’re going to move is gunna shift some stuff, okay? Tell us if it hurts you, okay, kid?”

“Okay- I’ll tell y’u”

He waited a few seconds, hearing some movement to his side, before the rubble shifted and his legs screamed in pain. He only let out a grunt, not wanting to stop the team’s efforts, and only a moment passed before he saw his father figure knelt down beside his head, cradling it with one hand. He smiled up at him.

“T-tony-” He sobbed.

Tony nodded, “Yeah, yeah, kid, i’m here now. Sorry we couldn’t get to you sooner but I got you now, i promise. You did so good for me, bud,”

“Good?” Peter’s eyes were closing now, relishing in the relief of pain after hours of panic.

“So good, kid. I’m so proud of you for staying calm. You can sleep now, okay? Let us do the rest.”

He smiled up at his mentor again, letting his eyes close and his body relaxed as his mind gave in to the not-so-distant pull of sleep.

Tony woke up that morning to a call from midtown tech.

Of course, he was confused as to why Peter’s school would call him at midday on a random tuesday.

“Is this Tony Stark?” The caller sounded dubious- doubtful.

“Yes, it is,”

“This is Julia calling from midtown tech. Are you the emergency contact for Peter Parker?”

“One of them, yes,”

“Would you be able to pick Peter up soon?” Tony was already getting some more presentable clothes on, worried as hell.

“Yes, of course. Can I ask why?”

“To be completely honest with you, Mr Stark, I don't even know. There’s a police officer in there with him right now, and that’s all i know.”

Tony froze. A police officer could only mean two things, and Tony didn’t like either option.

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” And with that, he hung up.

Peter practically fell into his arms when he walked into the office. Tony instinctively went to cradle the back of his head as he processed everything that was happening. One of those things being that Peter was crying.

Peter was crying.

He wrapped his arms around the teenager more firmly as the police officer stepped toward them.

“Mr Stark, I’m officer Langford,” Tony nodded curtly towards him, waiting for an explanation.

“You may want to sit down for this,”

It took some time for Tony to maneuver Peter into a more comfortable position on the couch in the corner, the kid not wanting his mentor to see his face- in fear?- but they got there in the end.

The officer sat down in a chair opposite them, “I’m sorry to tell you this but this morning May Parker was involved in a car accident, she was rushed to the hospital but unfortunately, she was pronounced dead on arrival-” Peter held him slightly tighter, “We called you here because you were Peter’s second emergency contact, and in situations like these, we need a temporary home for him. If you agree, you can take him home now, and if not we can move him to a separate-” Tony held a hand up to cut him off.

He moved the hand back down to rub across Peter’s back, meant to be a soothing gesture but somehow made him more tense.

“I’ll take him now, and i can sort out the paperwork for a… longer arrangement soon,” Officer Langford nodded before wishing them well and leaving, but Tony didn’t pay any notice, his mind too caught up in what just happened.

It wasn’t caught up in May’s death, somehow in the back of his mind, he knew, he knew that police officers didn’t just show up at a kid’s school for no reason. He wouldn’t have been called if it was anything else.

No, it wasn’t caught up with that.

It was caught up with the fact that Peter- his kid, his Peter- upon hearing Tony’s agreement to take him in- he lost all tension in his body. As if he was relieved, as if he feared Tony would leave him, as if he would abandon the kid he’s grown so close to lately.

Tony couldn’t process it.

“Hey, kiddo, can you look at me please?” Peter minutely shook his head, burrowing into Tony’s shirt even closer than before. His tears had long since stopped, now just seeking comfort from the billionaire.

“We’ve gotta be clear about some stuff, okay, bud? Just a few minutes and then we can go back to whatever this is,” Tony wasn’t good at this.

But, still, Peter pulled back from their embrace, head turned down towards his legs.

“Kid-” Tony was stuck for words, “i want you to know that you can stay with me for as long as you like, okay? If it’s just for this week, for a while or if it’s for the rest of your life, okay? I need you to understand that i’m going to stick with you through all of it, anything you need from me, I’ll get it for you,” He took a breath, “You’re not alone in this,”

Peter crumpled.

As if against his own command, his body surged forward, arms clumsily reaching for his father figure, breaths coming through as gasps, head still downturned.

But still, Tony caught him.

__________

Tony took Peter back to the tower, he set him up in his room, gave him food and sent him to bed. He figured they’d deal with talking about it tomorrow, after some good sleep and a long fucking think about how Tony feels about this kid.

That went to shit at around 4am.

Tony was up on his feet before he could process the scream, legs rushing him to the only inhabited room on his floor. Pushing the door open and hoping for the worst.

He really didn’t expect to see Peter in the corner, bed sheets crumpled around his feet, breaths barely present.

He kneeled down a few feet away, unsure about whether Peter needed him close or not. But upon seeing the kid reach out a trembling hand towards him, he surged forward, pulling the teenager into his arms.

“It’s okay, whatever it is, it’s okay, we’re safe. I’ve got you.” He repeated in hushed whispers, rocking the two of them back and forth.

It was only a few minutes later when Peter responded to him, breathing normally now, hand clutching his mentor’s shirt as he mumbled into his chest.

“Couldn’t- couldn’t save y’u- i- i can’- can’t do i’- pl’se t’ny-”

Tony hushed him.

Peter repeated the mantra for another- god, tony didn’t know how long- until tony was finally able to hush him. The billionaire carefully picked him up, walking him the few feet over to the bed and laying him down in it.

Tony hesitated by the door, before hushing his brain of all negative thoughts, turning off the light and retreating back into the teenager’s bedroom. He climbed into the bed with the kid, curling up next to him- relieved when Peter immediately turned to cling to his chest.

Slowly, he fell asleep.

To say Peter was worried about this mission was an understatement. Him and Tony were going undercover together and honestly… it was already awkward.

The thing is, Peter wouldn’t have any trouble going undercover normally but now, they were going in as father and son.

There was this guy- this villain they’d started calling the ‘poisoner’- who was targeting father and son couples, poisoning the son and leaving the father with the body until they were found. They’d tried everything to arrest the guy but… he kept getting away- going undercover was the only option- the last ditch attempt before the avengers started knocking on doors.

It was weird how Peter was more scared to act like Toy was his dad, when he could actually die if the other guy got the upper hand.

_______________

They were sat in the hotel room, waiting.

They saw the guy- the poisoner- earlier at the bar. He’d followed them all night, back to their room but… he hadn’t pushed his way in, always staying just too far away to be apprehended by Tony.

It took a few hours for there to be a knock at the door, Tony standing up and casting a quick look at Peter before going to answer it.

He opened the door to see him- the guy- the poisoner- dressed up as a waiter or something, pushing a cart in front of him.

“Can i help you?”

He smiled, “Room service, sir,” He started pushing his way past Tony.

“I’m sorry, but we didn’t order room service,”

The poisoner turned around quickly as he heard the door blow shut, quickly pulling Tony into a headlock and facing Peter, who was frozen in the shock of it all.

“Now I’m going to say this one time only,” He ignored Tony struggling in his hold, pulling out a gun from his waistband, “There’s handcuffs under the cart. You’re going to cuff yourself to the bed or I’ll blow your dad’s brains out,”

Peter moved slowly, sliding off the bed and keeping his hands visible. The man was the same height as Tony and didn’t look much bigger than him. Tony should be able to get out of his hold easily- there was a reason he couldn’t- and now he had a gun to his head.

He reached under the tablecloth, feeling the cold metal and pulling out three sets of handcuffs. He moved over to the bed again, cursing the hotel for having actual bed posts, and cuffed his left wrist to the bed, laying down on it to make himself more comfortable.

The man then pushed Tony away from him, pointing the gun at Peter this time and making fear rush through him, “Now you- cuff his other hand to the bed,”

Tony hesitated, making the man cock the gun, and Tony then quickly moved towards Peter, efficiently cuffing the teenager’s wrist, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance that didn’t do much to reassure him.

“Pull the chair away from the desk,” The poisoner commanded, “And cuff your hands behind it,”

Tony did so immediately, not risking Peter’s safety again. Only once he was situated did he start talking.

“You know you’re going to regret this,” The poisoner laughed.

“You really think so, do you? I know you’ve got this room bugged, i know the avengers are probably on their way here. But I’m here to send a message,”

“And what message is that?”

He paused, pulling the lid off the metal plate he brought in on the cart, it revealed a neat line of six vials, all full of a blue liquid.

“You need to pay for what you did,”

__________

As it turns out, the poisoner doesn't actually inject the poison.

No, that would be too merciful.

Tony’s handcuffed to the chair he’s sat in, facing the bed. The same bed of which Peter, his kid, the teenager who he’d grown to care for so much in the past year or two, was handcuffed to in an ironic parallel. Father and son. Mentor and mentee. Tony, the merchant of death, destined to lead anyone he comes into contact with to a gruesome fate.

Peter happened to be that person.

Tony remembered the first few days after the fight with the rogues, how he regretted taking Peter with him, knowing he was going to ruin the kid. The few months after had only solidified that claim, and so he’d taken the suit.

There was no way he was getting out of the situation now.

The poisoner- that son of a bitch tony was going to kill as soon as he could get out of this damn chair-

The poisoner, had strapped a mask to the teenager’s head, slowly screwing in a vial of that fucking liquid on either side.

And now he was breathing it in- the gas- the poison that Tony just sat there as he’d been strapped down.

Now, Tony thought it was bad enough when he’d had all those thoughts running through his head, memories of Peter before they’d gotten to know each other, before Tony had taken him in. He thought that had been bad enough.

But no, it was so much worse when all those thoughts suddenly screeched to a halt.

Because Peter had just turned his head, linking eyes with Tony, a desperate plea moving between them.

Because Peter was scared- he looked terrified.

There were unshed tears laying in his tear ducts, enough to easily see as you looked at the kid. His lips barely visible within the mask but from what Tony could see, they were held in a strained frown, lips being bitten.

Peter moved his head towards his mentor, linking eyes with the man. And that, right there in that moment, was when the teenager let go.

“T-tony-” A sob cut him off, choked out between his lips.

“T-tony please- i can’t- i don’t-” Tony shushed him from where he was sitting.

“Kid- Pete- I-” Tony was speechless, all known reassurances dying in his throat as soon as he’d thought of them, what were you supposed to say to a kid who was dying and you couldn’t do anything about it?

“Tony- please- dad- i can’t-” that kicked his instincts into gear.

“Kid, you need to stop talking, okay? The team’s going to get here soon, they’ll get this shit out of you and you’ll be okay, then you can tell me whatever you need to when you’re better, okay?”

Peter nodded, eyes still wide with tears but he listened to the billionaire. and somehow, that made it so much worse, the kid would follow him into fire if he asked him to, and now Tony got him into this situation.

Tony wanted nothing more than to look away from what was happening, as Peter breathed in the poison, helpless to do anything, but he couldn’t not be there for the kid. He needed his father figures comfort.

“he’s right, the teams gunna get here soon, i don’t know when but we’ll get you out of this as soon as we can, and then we can spend a week watching all of the star wars movies, and the clone wars if you want, anything you want kid”

The poisoner was sat in the corner of the room, on the other bed. He was watching them, watching Tony desperately give his kid comfort without being able to touch him.

Tony looked at him, “you’re a fucking psychopath, you know that, right? he’s 16, he’s just a kid. why don’t you kill me instead if you want me to pay so much, huh?”

The poisoner chuckled, standing up to walk over to them, “If you die, you wouldn’t feel the pain i did as my kid died in front of me, i’m going to make you watch as your kid suffocates in front of you”

He got two new vials, replacing the almost empty ones. Peter’s wheezing had gotten a lot more prominent now, trying desperately to bring in air.

Tony’s always been around death, it greets him at every corner. but every time, someone else dies instead of him, or at least, they come close to it.

He doesn’t know what he’d do if Peter dies.

______________

He’d already changed to the last set of vials now, Peter's breath was barely there.

Tony was fucking terrified, obviously.

The team was close, he was sure of it, but that had been what he’d been telling himself the whole time.

They were barely minutes out by his assumptions, but he didn’t know if Peter had minutes, vials nearly empty as the liquid in them turned to gas for the teenager to breathe in, slowly suffocating him.

He was still facing Tony, eve after this long, still trusting him to save him. Even as his body could barely pull in breaths, eyes drooping, they didnt stray from his face.

“Peter, you gotta keep your eyes open, i know it’s hard, i know- but you’ve gotta stay awake for just a few more minutes. We’re gunna help you, but you just gotta stay awake,”

Peter looked at him sadly, but his eyes stayed open and Tony counted that as a win. He started to say something but Tony shushed him quickly.

“It’s okay, kid. Don’t try to talk. We’ve been over this already, you can talk to me after the team gets here- star wars marathon and everything, remember?”

Peter’s eyebrows creased inwards, and Tony’s heart dropped. Either he just forgot about that whole part of their conversation or… or…

“You just gotta stay awake for me, okay? I believe in you kid, dont let me down,”

_______________

The door seemed to explode inwards when the team got there, Tony didn’t look up.

He didn’t look up as they arrested the poisoner, Bruce and sam moving to Peter, while two others moved to get Tony out of the seat he was in.

As soon as the handcuffs were undone, he surged forward, one hand reaching for the kid’s- which now rested on the bed after being released- and the other going to rest in his curls. Tony quickly wiped the tears off the kid’s face, staying away from his mouth as the others tried to give him as much oxygen as he needed.

Peter choked on a sob when he realised Tony was there, mouth slightly upturning even as another oxygen mask was placed over his face.

“I’m here kid. I’m so proud of you for staying awake, okay?” He looked to bruce, as the man looked away from Peter’s vitals, nodding to Tony now, “You can go to sleep now, I’m so proud of you kid, it’s okay,”

Peter’s eyes didn’t leave him, even as he fell asleep.

Tony cried as he was carried away.

__________________

Peter woke up in the medbay. That was his first sign that something bad happened.

The next sign was his mentor-father-figure-dad asleep on the side of his bed.

Peter’s eyes widened as he saw the tear tracks lining his cheeks. Tony never cried, not even when he dropped an engine on his foot that one time. If Tony was crying now, this- whatever it was that happened- it was bad bad.

“Tony?”

Tony startled awake, as if he meant to be on guard, and took one look at the kid in front of him before reaching for Peter and bringing him into his arms.

“Oh my fucking god, kid. Holy shit, you’re okay. Oh my god-”

“Tony what happened?” Was the teenager’s muffled answer, not complaining about being smothered in his da- Tony’s shirt.

“There was this- this guy we went after- had to go undercover and he got to us and he poisoned you, kid- and i couldn't- i couldn't do anything about it- i just sat there and you- you did so good-”

Peter shushed him as the memories arose in his mind, “Tony, can i talk for a second?” He received a nod in reply, “You called the team, Tony. I didn’t, you did. They got there in time and now I’m okay, aren’t I? You did everything that you could, if anything i should've done something, I’m the one with powers here. No- i know- i couldn’t have done anything but you were there the whole time telling me to stay awake and i did, Tony, because of you.”

Tony didn’t say anything, seemingly processing what the kid said. He looked up slowly, tears falling down his cheeks, leaning forward and pulling the kid into a hug again.

Slowly, Peter got tired, nearly falling asleep in Tony’s arms. So, of course, Tony moved into the bed with him, pulling the kid to rest his head against the man’s chest.

“I got you, kid, don’t worry. You can go to sleep,” Peter didn’t know if Tony was reassuring himself or the kid.

Stil, nonetheless, Peter seemingly couldn’t hold back from murmuring a last thought as he fell asleep.

“Love you, dad”

Tony froze for a moment before replying, “Yeah, i love you too, kid,”

#irondad #spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #friendly neighborhood exchange #whump #fluff #poison #nightmares #comfort #hurt/comfort #daniel writes

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the-volume-is-astronomical · 3 years

Text

The Crown, The Sword, and The Gay

The Tower

A/N: mi gente im just trying something out and seeing if people like it :] ive had this done for like months and months on end and i finally decided to share it so em enjoy

First | Previous| Next

words: 2380

summary: Roman’s stomach is making it very clear that this talk wasn’t going to end well... as long as he doesn’t end up in that tower.

pairings: eventual prinxiety, eventual intrulogical, eventual moceit

warnings: some potty language (not much), stress, anxiety, disappearance mention, flashback, crying

(let me know if theres any other)

Roman felt himself waking up, maybe because of the stupidly bright sun hitting his eyes, he didn’t know how that was possible since he remembered closing the red velvet curtains shut tight, so he didn't have this exact issue. So, when he heard some ruffling and things being moved around he wasn’t all that surprised.

¨Rise and shine, you little brat¨ Ruth said in a very tired but demanding voice.

¨Oh dear nurse, allow me five more minutes¨ Roman whined putting a pillow over his eyes so he could block out the rude sun.

¨Oh, flattery will get you nowhere, mister.¨ Roman could hear Ruth moving around the room, preparing breakfast no doubt. Roman took the pillow off his face and sat up, hair a wreck, and his eyes squinting because of the light coming from the window.

¨And he finally rises,¨ Ruth said sarcastically.

¨Yeah, yeah, the dashing prince has awoken.¨ Roman said half asleep. Ruth helped him sit down so he didn’t trip over anything and started serving him breakfast, she wasn’t going to wait for him to finish eating as she was already heading for the big oak doors.

¨Wait!¨ Roman sobered up, Ruth flinched a little at the shout but turned around anyway ¨Can I do anything for you?¨ She asked.

¨ Come eat with me, you for sure haven’t eaten anything today.¨ Ruth went to argue but closed her mouth when she noticed she, in fact, had not eaten.

She sat down in the chair in front of the royal, Roman made a few hand gestures as if to show she was open to take anything, she knew the monarch wouldn’t eat until she had settled for something so, she took a piece of bread and started eating, as did he.

After a few moments of silent eating Ruth spoke up ¨I still don't understand, after all these years you haven’t become a spoiled brat that doesn't care for his servant¨ Roman didn't even look up at her he just said ¨I guess you raised me well.¨ Ruth almost choked on her bread and looked at Roman as if he had gone insane. “Oh come on don't be so humble Ruthie!¨

She still looked at him confused and a little annoyed at the nickname but mostly surprised he would say anything of the sort, ¨Ruth, you are my nurse. You have been with me my entire life, You fed me when I was a baby for god sake! I consider you a mother, even if I have another mother in the throne room right now,” Roman shivered at the thought of having to talk to his parents after the events of the past week but continued anyway “and I sure as hell think of you as the person who raised me.¨

Once he had finished he immediately put a mouth full of food and kept eating as if hadn’t given that speech. Ruth still looked shocked but cleared her throat ¨Well, then I made you a sap!¨ Roman started laughing ¨How will your future spouse ever forgive me?¨ Roman burst out laughing and Ruth gave a small chuckle.

Ruth stood up and went to Roman's closet to gather his outfit for the day, while he finished breakfast. She threw the clothes at him “Hey!¨ Roman made his trademark over dramatic gasp. She sighed “I unfortunately also gave you my dramatics…”

“And I don’t resent you for that!” Roman screamed back with a big smile on his face.

Ruth looked like she had something on her mind. Roman didn’t have to wait much before she said what that was, he never did. ¨Would that make you and my Remy brothers?¨ she said, actively ignoring the prince’s comments. Roman stood up going towards his shoji screen to change behind. ¨Ha! We already consider each other brothers so it wouldn’t be much of a change.¨ Ruth started making his bed “Well this is new information to me.¨ Roman giggled a bit

¨Remy´s supposed to be back by noon, he passed a lot of territories to deliver this message so I sure hope he’s alright¨ Roman has always thought she was a worried mother even to him when he went on long trips.

Roman stepped out from behind the screen and reassured her ¨ He’s fine! He may act reckless but he's very calculating… but expect him a few hours later than what the estimated time of return” Roman slipped away looking for his shoes. ¨Oh and why is that?¨ she asked, hands on her hips, Roman gave a nervous chuckle.

Shouldn't have let that slip.

“Roman…” Ruth said in a warning tone. Remy was going to kill him but he didn’t want to die at his nurse’s hands “Remy’s been... seeing... this person a-and when his message trip aligns with where they live… he spends some time with the person so…” Ruth looked at him as if deciding something, “As Remy’s mother, I thank you for telling me the truth..” Roman was relieved “But, as your mother, I have to say…YOU SNITCH! Snitches get stitches for a reason!” Roman laughed genuinely and Ruth joined.

After their giggle fit, they heard someone knock on the door. Ruth went to answer the door, it was a guard “His and her highness request the prince’s presence,” Ruth thanked the guard and turned around and Roman looked mortified, “Roman, you have to talk to them.” Roman had never heard Ruth speak that soft. Roman only felt dread “Ruth I don't want to go” He was genuinely petrified.

“I understand, but they are very understanding and I believe they wouldn't punish you for simply trusting the wrong person” Roman shook his head “ They’re already so protective. They always had me under knight or guard surveillance but now they might do something so I won’t be able to sneak by” Roman was panicking and Ruth noticed, she walked up to him. And took his hand “Roman they just want the best for you…” Roman took his hand away from her own “No! They are just afraid they aren’t going to have an heir after one of them ran away.” Roman's hands were in his hair and his eyes started to glaze over.

Roman was very much not over his brother's apparent “disappearance”

“I understand Remus vanishing has affected your parents over protectiveness, BUT they have always aimed to protect you but after what happened...can you really blame them for it?” Roman sighed, Ruth forced his hands out of his hair, he took a shaky breath to calm down “No, but getting hurt is part of life! So what if I trusted the wrong person? Everyone does!” He gestured to the sky as if it was the only person listening, he felt so defeated.

“Well I can't change anything so, you should tell your parents that!” She didn’t know what to say to make things better. “I’ll try, let’s just hope they at least try to listen” he left it there and headed out of his bedroom’s oak doors, he never liked disagreeing with Ruth.

Roman walked down the long hallway towards the throne room but, of course, he wasn’t alone because that would be too much to ask apparently. Instead he was being escorted to see his parents by the guard that had informed him his parents required him. He already knew what they were going to talk to him about and he was dreading it.

Why did he have to make such a mistake?

Did the universe want him to not trust anyone after what happened?! If it would make the sinking feeling in his stomach leave then he would happily oblige.

The guard stopped at the throne rooms doors and Roman took a deep breath as the guard gave him side eye glance and opened the doors, “You required my presence?” Roman spoke trying to keep his voice steady and his head high, “Yes, Roman, we would actually like to talk to you about last week's event…?” He phrased it as a question a little too late. Roman’s father, King Leonardo, wasn’t an emotionally driven person and never was truly soft with anything he said, but he cared. The way he was soft spoken with Roman was just having the opposite effect that his father wanted.

Roman’s mother, Queen Victoria, was very comforting and always tried to shield her children from harm's way, but coming from a family of royals, she didn't have an example to follow but she wanted to be there for her child. “Roman, my little lion heart, I need you to keep in mind this is for your safety...ok?” Following everything by the book, always looking and being her best, so she would be a good example even if she wasn't nurturing, all she wished was for Roman to know she loved him and Remus with her whole being, Roman just gave her a tense nod as a response.

Roman’s Father spoke up, “Roman, you're going to be under knight supervision at all times,” That wasn't as bad as Roman expected, he basically already was! Anything but to be stuck in that damn tower “...And you have to stay in the south tower-” ...He should have knocked on wood.

“Father, I did nothing wrong! I shouldn't be punished for this-” Romans mother spoke up, she knew both her son and husband could be hot headed. She wanted to stop anything before it got the chance to begin “Roman this isn't to punish you! We want to protect you-” The Queen sounded like she was pleading with her son.

Roman did not hear her plea or just ignored it “...For how long do I have to stay there?” Roman’s mother spoke up, “Don't worry, you'll be there maximum 2-”

“Indefinitely.”

The King spoke in a cold unforgiving tone, Roman knew he had messed up big time. Victoria turned to her husband “Leo, we agreed he wouldn't be there for more than 2 fortnights, we agreed on that.” The Queen seemed upset but was obviously attempting not to show such emotion.

“Those were the rules we agreed to when he was a child and he would grant being punished” Both of Roman’s parents were staring at each other, showing they weren't going to back down.

Roman spoke, “Understood.” His voice was mostly monotone but tight, Victoria turned to him with an apologetic gaze. Roman shook his head. It was his own fault, his mother shouldn't blame herself for his actions.

“I'll tell Ruth, so we can pack.” Roman turned to leave but his father had more to say. “Before you go, Hugo won't be your assigned knight. One of the new recruits is climbing in status and popularity very quickly and he agreed to-” “babysit” Roman cut in. “-protect you. As long as I recommended him to Queen Marie for her armada”

As if things couldn't get any better, he had to meet this new recruit, he hoped they would at least get along. Roman just nodded and opened the door to leave. At that moment, Roman’s father called the guard that had escorted Roman to get the new recruit as soon as possible, he just left as quickly as he could.

His parents knew that not being around people and not being able to talk were some of the worse things that could happen to him. They decided it was going to be the way to punish him. Though, he never stayed for more than a month, now he understood why.

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

As Roman- basically power walked- back to his room, his brain tortured him with memories of his 7 year old self being forced onto the tower for the first time.

No! Please it was an accident-!

I won't do it again!

I won't- Please!

That was all he said as his father signaled the guards to take him, his mother not being able to look, turned her head away, trying to ignore every motherly instinct in her body to stand up and comfort her child.

The guards dragged him out of the castle- the only home he knew- and shoved him in a carriage, where Ruth was waiting for him. Ruth had always been happy around him but her expression was unreadable -looking back she seemed angry, he just hadn't seen her that way before- but, Roman didn't care. He threw himself onto Ruth and sobbed his tiny heart out, Ruth trying her best to calm him down, he eventually fell asleep. Three hours later, he was woken up by Ruth.

“Were here, principito”

Roman was scared. Ruth saw it in his eyes.

“Come on! You offend me, you really think I would let them take you to a scary place?”

The little royal could only muster a small “no”. Ruth took his hand and walked with him toward a tower. Roman thought it was beautiful, that's the day he figured beautiful things can hurt you.

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

Roman never got used to it. He always dreaded the ride there, all the build up to the feeling of nothingness. When he looked up at the tower, he got the same feeling that he did when he was 7, Roman learned to not look up. He’d always prefer being in the tower when he was a kid because, back then they allowed Ruth to stay behind with him. Now she would only go in the carriage with him and leave.

After they stopped allowing Ruth to stay with him, at least he had Hugo to bother, by asking him for stories of his adventures. He didn't have that anymore.

The only adventure story he had now was a vibrant red book, in the book shelf of the tower, the only fictional book in his whole collection. He will admit, it was a very smart move on his parent’s part. They always monitored what he read, filled his whole book shelf in the tower with Philosophy, Math, and Royalty etiquette. When he begged for weeks on end for an adventure book they granted him one but, they made sure it was the only book that was fictional. They wouldn't give him an adventure book based on real events, No! That would be giving Roman too much hope.

Good move.

#roman sanders #roman angst #sanders sides roman #ts roman #prinxiety #ts prinxiety #future prinxiety #sanders sides #ts princey

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smokahuntis · 3 years

Text

Weightless

Nothing Personal

Pairing: Javier peña x reader

Warnings: set last name, cursing, mentions of sex and death. Masterbation, night mares.

Summery: he embassy calls in a new agent to assist agents Peña and Murphy

Authors note: I’m back and I’m going to try and start a series! Based on the album Nothing Personal by All Time Low. This would be chapter one.

Word count: 3.4K

Manage me, I’m a mess

“Agent (y/n) Carter” the ambassador said as she gave them the files “she will be joining, this is everything you need to know in her and she will be here later today.

Javier nodded as he picked up the file “of course, madam ambassador” he stood with a crooked grin and looked her over “and may I say, you look amazing in pink” he said softly and kindly. Steve just rolled his eyes and walked towards the door.

“Keep dreaming Peña” she shook her head and let them leave to review the file.

Turn a page, I’m a book half unread

“Agent Carter ” Javier handed Steve the file. “ ‘DEA’s finest’” he mocked and lit up his cigarette as he set back. Letting the smoke fill his lungs as he took a long drag of his Colombian cigarette. He watched Steve waiting for his opinion.

Steve only chuckled and set the papers down “I went to academy with her...” he said, javiers eyes lit up before he shook his head

“I didn’t mean-“

“We aren’t friends it okay” Steve chuckled.

I wanna be laughed at, laughed with, just because

“Oh- okay... okay...” pena leaned back again as the smoke clouded the humid air around them.

“She was always an overachiever, no one really liked her in my class” he chuckled and put the file away. “Way to smart to be choosing dea, but there she was. Didnt talk to anyone, didn’t let anyone talk to her.” He shrugged “I’d be surprised if she talked to us”

I wanna feel weightless and that should be enough

“So beware shes a bitch?” Javier chuckled and put his cigarette out

“Yep” Steve got up and grabbed his empty coffee cup. “Want a coffee?”

“Not from here...” he shook his head and got up.

“You know back home I always chose Colombian brew coffee, and now I’m in colombia and I don’t see why I thought it was good” Steve chuckled as they walked together to get a drink at the coffee place across the street.

“I’ve spend out money on more valuable things then coffee machines that aren’t from the 60s and beans that aren’t 2 years old” Javier joked and shook his head as they strutted the halls. They were such a duo, splitting them into a trio is a sin, but they’d have to get used to it.

Well I’m stuck in this fucking rut

Meanwhile back in LAX (y/n)’s brother tried to convince her it wasn’t worth it. “Colombia is dangerous right now, you could get killed- or- or worse!” Thomas said following her.

“What’s worse then dying?” She watched him with a bit of a cocky grin.

“You could end up like- like Kiki” he said without thinking before she grabbed her brothers collar roughly.

“You don’t say a damn word about Kiki... plus” she let him go and wiped her Dainty hand on her white button up. “After what the US did to the Sinaloa I think I’m safe from that” she sighed and kept walking.

“(Y/n) listen- please... I can’t loose my sister, not to- Pablo Escobar” he grabbed her hand. She turned and looked at him with upset eyes. “You’re all I have left...” he whispered

Waiting on a second-Hand pick-me-up

It was true, she was all he had left, dad was away over seas and mom was gone. Their oldest brother died years ago, it was just her and Thomas. But they were both adults now, she could do what she wanted, and she had been. But now she was a little worried for Thomas.

“I’ll call, and I’ll visit when I can, just go home Thomas... I’ll be okay” she said looking at him, before the warning for her flight went off, 10 minutes now. “I love you, I have to go” she hugged her younger brother before she left.

I’m getting over getting older

(Y/n) looked over her files on the plane, she knew it was a matter of time before escobar knew who she was so she didn’t hide it. She didn’t care, she knew he was almost untouchable. Almost.

(Y/n) had been all over for the DEA, her most frequented place however was Mexico. She worked in Mexico for a long time, she was young and stupid and she kinda thought it was the DEA’s way of getting rid of waste, expecting her to die at the hands of the Sinaloa. However she returned very much alive, and very much tearing open at the seems. She still has nightmares of her time there, but she didn’t care, she had to keep going, for him.

If I could just find the time

Javier set up the stuff in the meeting room before he made his way home for the night. His little two bit apartment given to him by the Embassy. It was nice, he knew that, but it always felt cold and empty, that’s why he filled it with girls, smoke, alcohol smells. It was like a fucking bar. He tried to not bring work home with him but he couldn’t help it most nights, things either bothered him to much or had to be done sooner then later. Some days he wanted to feel weightless, and those days he could escape the heavy burden of people lives depending on him. The ones he couldn’t save, or the ones he’s trying to save. He was trying so hard, but he couldn’t escape.

He needed air, that’s what it was. Right now when he felt his chest collapse on him, he needed aid, real air. So he was quick to make his way out the door and to the front steps of the apartment building, he almost didn’t see her. The (h/c) girl standing there at the steps with her bags. He almost took her out, but he stopped in time.

“I’m- im sorry uh- can I help you?” He asked clearing his throat as he looked at her. She pulled her hood off and looked up at him holding her bags close to her

Then I would never let another day go by

“This is the embassy apartments right?” She asked with a soft shivering smile. He was quick to answer, maybe to quick.

“Yea! Yea this is- this is them yea... you’re-“ he started but she cut him off.

“(Y/n) Carter, yes- hi- um- sorry I didn’t mean to cut you off I’m just tired and cold and really want to get inside. He nodded understanding, completely forgotting why he came out here as he looked into her eyes, illuminated by the yellow street lights behind him.

“I’ll show you to your apartment” he smiled and took her in, she was just across the hall from him. Her apartment identical in most ways, however her kitchen was bigger and so was her bathroom.

I’m over getting old

“Thank you, you must be Agent Peña” she smiled as he got the key from the leafy palm in the corner, unlocking her door for her.

“That I am” he smiled and helped with her bags. If he was going to be stuck with her he wanted to be nice. He didn’t want another agent, him and Steve were doing just on their own, but the embasssy expected things to be done instantly, but they are putting to many cooks in the kitchen.

“Thank you for helping, you didn’t need to” she smiled and set her bags down on the bed and looked at him.

“Of course” he smiled and set her things down with the rest. “So, we’re you invited or did you request to be transferred”

Maybe it’s not my weekend

(Y/n) looked at him and pushed hair behind her ears and shook her head. “I requested it actually, I requested it months ago really but-“

“Why would you want to be here? You know what’s happening-“

“That’s exactly why I want to be here” she stood straighter and looked at him. “You need all the help you can get it seems- and I understand if you don’t want me here because I’m a women”

“No! No no- no that isn’t it I promise” he said feeling a bit of his earlier panic come back, but it was only a little. “I don’t care you’re a women I’ve seen your file you’ve done amazing things but we were doing just fine without you...” Javier said looking at her, his hand up in defense.

“Then why did the embassy want me here ASAP?” She asked crossing her arms.

“Because they think we are stupid or something... they expect things done instantly and it’s impossible.” He explained. She nodded and sighed

“I understand that feeling. But I’m here to help... I promise” she looked at him as the moon light filtered threw her window

But it’s gonna be my year

He nodded and sighed “I’ll just let you get some sleep, I’ll see you at the office” he walked out of her room, giving her one last look as he smiled “goodnight Agent Carter” he walked out to his apartment again.

(Y/n) sighed and unpacked all she could tonight and took a few melatonin and went to sleep, trying to get on the schedule.

It wasn’t hard for her to get up in the morning, making her own coffee and getting ready early. She wanted to be there before them so she could go over things and get caught up. So getting ready quickly she tied her hair up in a tight ponytail and made her way to the office. She was always on time or early, wanting to get ahead of things or finish work so she didn’t have to bring things home.

I’m so sick of watching all the minutes pass as I go nowhere

Javier however, couldnt manage to get himself out of sleep. Stuck in a long nightmare that has his body aching and sweating to wake up but he was stuck there, in that spot in the sticky cotton sheets. He tossed and turned but al he could see was the blood, every scene he’d been to, it took a toll on him. He couldn’t help it anymore, couldn’t hold them back, couldn’t stay up and drink a shit ton of coffee and just keep going.

He was hurting himself even more trying to ignore it. He was lost in a sea of sound, until finally he woke up, alone and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Fuck....” he shook his head and got out of bed, throwing his things in the wash before he got in the shower. He felt so exhausted from sleeping, that’s not right. He hated this constant feeling, it was so much. He couldn’t even escape at home. Seemed the only time he felt fine was when he was baring himself inside a women of the night and telling her how perfect she was, only to wake up alone and try to relive that moment in the shower by himself.

This is my reaction to everything I fear

It was no secret, Javier Peña was a ladies man. To get in the head of the cartel he slept with the same women as the cartel, did it work? Yes occasionally. But it wasn’t that anymore, it wasn’t just work, it was a form of escape now. Was he a sex addict? Yes, most definitely. Did he care? No, because it was release in more ways then one and that’s all he wanted.

He did have a talent tho, remembering every name, every face. Every women. He was a talented man. But right now that didn’t matter, what mattered to him in this moment was making himself feel weightless as hot water ran down his body. He was alone last night, after showing (y/n) her apartment he went home and to bed. So he had nothing to relieve, no face to see when he closed his eyes. Oh... how he was wrong.

Cause I’ve been going crazy, I don’t wanna waste another minute here

There she was, the beauty he met last night. (Y/n) carter. Why was she what he thought about right now? He just met her. She was his partner and he’d only see her face and hands, that’s not even enough for a weirdo to get off. But it was enough for him to wrap his hand around his throbbing cock and leaning his head back as he stroked himself.

His chest heaving and his eyes rolling back as he pumped his fat cock in his hand. Soft grunts escaped his mouth before the words left it “(y/n)... fuck...” he groaned.

He didn’t even know the girl and he was getting off in his shower to her.

This could be all that I’ve waited for

He didn’t know why he felt like this, but in his mind he had her on her knees, her lips wrapped around his tip as she took him down her little throat, just that image made him let out a loud moan. Soon his balls tightened and he was coming all over her face, and down the drain.

He shook his head as he opened his eyes and looked at the mess he made. Causing him to sigh heavily and clean up before he got dressed and ready, trying to get the idea out of his head. It was his first day with her, and he wanted to fuck her. Wow.

This could be everything I don’t wanna dream anymore

When he got there she was already liking over things, remembering faces and writing in her notebook. She looked peaceful there, just staring at a cork-board of killers and drug lords. He could tell quickly this is her environment.

“Hey” he said setting down his coffee and taking off his brown leather jacket. She turned with an other bright smiled and looked at him, her smile lit of the room and made his chest feel tight, but not like his panic the night before, this was warm and different.

“Hey” she said in her silk tone as she set her note book down. “ I hope you don’t mind I’m taking my own notes.”

“Not at all, whatever makes you comfortable” he smiled at her softly. At that moment Steve walked in with his own coffee and pen. He was way to quick to notice the look in javiers eyes, the interest he had in her.

“Thanks” she smiled before looking at Steve “Steve Murphy, wow... hi” she smiled and shook his hand.

“Hey Carter, it’s been awhile” he chuckled and shook her hand

“It’s been more then awhile” she smiled and looked up at him

Maybe it’s not my weekend, but it’s gonna be my year.

“Well it’s good to know we have a good agent on our team” he smiled. “So what are you working on”

“Just taking my own notes so I can memorize things faster and get caught up” she smiled at them.

“Oh did you color coat them too?” He asked a little to condescending. She sighed and caught on quickly but went on.

“No I did not. I’m not a preppy teenager.” She stated simply before walking back to take notes.

“While you do that we are going to go do real things okay?” He grabbed his coffe and walked out with Javier. (Y/n) was pretty used to sexist comments or people thinking she couldn’t do things so she brushed it off, however Javier didn’t.

I’m going crazy, I’m stuck in here

“What the hell was that?!” Javjer looked at Steve and closed the door as they got into their little office.

“What was what?” Steve asked and set his things down.

“You being an asshole to her, what did she do to you?” Javier said taking up for her.

“I don’t know Javier what’s up with you? Staring at her like you’re guess engagement ring sizes!” Steve argued, they argued way to often. Like a married couple really.

“I was not!” Javier scoffed “I can’t be nice to my new coworker?”

“Just yesterday you were dreading her! And now you have heart eyes all over her” Steve said

Maybe it’s not my weekend but it’s gonna be my year

“I don’t have heart eyes, I’m just looking at her, damn” he sat down and opened his earliest files and started work.

“I’m sure” Steve shook his head before starting to work.

Soon (y/n) made her way to the office and walked in and almost fell over with a heart attack “my god, how do you work in such mess” she asked looking around.

“Mess? I think it’s pretty clean” Steve said looking around

“The only clean place here is my desk and it’s still covered in papers. “ she looked at him and set her things down.

“ okay I’ll admit, it’s a bit messy, but we know whether everything is” he leaned back. Just as he said that, Peña who wasn’t paying attention spoke up.

“I can’t find that file from yesterday” he sighed, giving (y/n) the perfect example.

“See!” She looked at Steve.

“Okay fine, we could organize...” he sighed.

I’m so sick of watching am three minutes pass as I go nowhere

After hours of cleaning the office was organized and they found things much easier, so much quicker and efficient. So much so that Javier could ask

“Okay now I need the First Medellin file” he said softly and it was quickly put on his desk.

“See that’s not bad...” (y/n) smiled softly and looked between them.

“But we just wasted so much time doing that” Steve said

“But we are going to save so much more now that it’s organized” she crossed her arms. She was right, organizing the office was the best decision they’d made all year, it helped get things done faster and cleared their minds.

And this is my reaction to everything I fear.

It was a small thing, to organize the office, but when Javier got home he decided to clean the apartment too, washing the bed sheets and making everything up after. Cooking a meal instead of ordering. Just have a day of cleaning up and doing normal people things, it made him sleep better already. The nightmares had calmed down and everything was fine. He was peaceful for a moment, a minute, a few seconds. And then there it was, the scream that made (y/n) drop everything and go to his apartment, he left the door unlocked so it was easy for her to get in and get to his bed side instantly.

“Javier!” She said grabbing his shoulders and shaking him awake. He was starting to sweat again, just as she grabbed him, her touch alone calmed down the terror of his mind, causing him to wake.

“(Y/n)...” he whispered tiredly as he looked at her, she was in a robe, her hair wrapped loosely in a towel.

“Hey buddy” she smiled softly, trying to comfort him in anyway. She didn’t know anything about him but she wanted to try her best to make him feel better, to make him feel weightless.

“What are you doing here...” he asked laying back. She pushed his hair out of his face and massaged his scalp softly as she spoke.

“You screamed and I came as soon as I could... I thought something happened” she answered and watched him, he was gorgeous here, with the moon light covering his glistening chest, highlighting his face and messy hair.

“I’m sorry- I- I didn’t mean too” he said as he sighed.

“It’s okay... I understand... I used to do the same thing after Mexico” she admitted. They barely knew a damn thing but they both felt comfortable with each other.

“How did you get it to stop...” he asked

“Well I did go to therapy but it never seemed to help, so I did what I did as a kid, I get something to read and read till I can’t keep my eyes open, it makes your mind think on the topics of the book rather then the other mess...” she whispered and pulled his covers back over him. He nodded and smiled “I could read to you tonight if you want...”

“You don’t have to do that”

“I don’t mind... get comfy I’ll find something...” she smiled and went to get a book. His eyes trailed her long legs as she walked out to get a book, why did he feel so open and comfortable with her, he just met her.

Cause I’ve been going crazy, I don’t wanna waste a minute here

Taglist: @thinemineours @morgannope @thisis-theway @onabouteverything @blxwjobsforclones @a-dorin @everythinggeeky

This will be a series I hope, so if you want to be tagged in this or more Javier peña stuff please let me know!

#javier peña #Javier peña #Pedro pascal #Javier peña x reader #Javier peña smut #Steve Murphy #narcos #narcos smut #narcos series #Javier peña series #nothing Personal serious

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for being Peter Parker’s Younger Sibling

Peter Parker x sibling!reader

warnings: bullying mention, blood mention

a/n: a fuckin reach, its been a WHILE since ive seen tasm

prompt: y/n is peter’s sibling

peter and you were playful kids

you were just a year and some months younger than him, so you had a harder time remembering your parents than him

but he always told you stories about them that made you miss them a little more

peter was a genius, we all know it

he was the one helping you with your homework most nights

“peter i cant do it!”

“that’s okay, y/n. look, start with two times four, that’s eight, then four times six, twenty-four, right?”

“can i say a cuss word?”

“sure”

“math is shit”

you would cry during homework a lot

you’d also pass out on his floor after talking for hours

and you’d either wake up facedown on the floor or in your room since uncle ben would pick you up and put you to bed

peter took it upon himself to take you back to your room, but he usually dragged you by the arm, sooooo

you’d play action figures together

he was batman, you were robin always

“can i be batman?”

“oldest gets to be batman so im batman”

“but i wanna be batman!”

peter walked you to your school before taking off on his skateboard

and he’d pick you up on his way home

on half-days your brother taught you how to skate

you fell a lot

aunt may had to patch you up

“how many times do i have to tell you those skateboards are dangerous?!”

peter got you your own skateboard so that you could practice without him

you would text him after you did a trick and he’d always say hell yes! show me when i get home!

being his photography assistant

really you were his assistant constantly

science fair was the most boring day of the year

“y/n, stand right here, i need to get something from my locker”

*judges walk up while youre left unattended and in a state of PANIC*

you were bullied in middle school, same as peter, he’d always stick up for you and get beat up instead

it made you very mad but it was scary, too

“how’d you get into this fight, peter?”

“oh, you know, just happened”

“peter was sticking up for me, uncle ben”

“was he now? you’re a good brother, peter”

lonely when he moved onto high school :/

but you got there soon enough

you guys were kind of loners, just ate lunch together, lugged around your skateboards, you were an artist, he was a photographer

just spectating the chaos of high school, rolling your eyes at the drama

“i have two bucks, do you want anything from the vending machine?”

“uhh, a coke?”

you saw peter get bullied by flash and lost your shitttt

you actually started a food fight after throwing mashed potatoes in his eyes

“what the hell, parker?!”

“sit down and eat your goddamn food, flash, or next time it wont be potatoes”

peter was half-proud, half-embarrassed

trying to see how long you could skate through the halls before any authority figures stopped you

sometimes......you guys got sent to the office together :)

*phone ringing* “hello, is this ben parker?”

“which one of them is it this time?”

the principal’s office was a trip sometimes

you and peter exchange your glances and wait to get scolded

“ah, the parkers, come in, lets have a chat...why do you two always feel the need to get in trouble together?”

“we just happen to get along really well for siblings”

no you fuckin dont lmaoooo

it was always something with you two

like always

*banging on peter’s door* “I KNOW YOU HAVE MY BROWNIES, PETER, GIVE THEM BACK”

*peter through a mouthful of brownies* “I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOURE TALKING ABOUT, YOURE CRAZY”

“is that my jacket?” -peter

“you mean my jacket?”

“y/n, i swear to god if you steal any more of my clothes it’s over for you”

“well, aunt may keeps giving me your clothes, so take it up with her”

and then there was just the little annoying things

“peter, can you stop clicking your pen?”

*clicks pen faster*

“you’re the worst”

and my personal favorite

“peter, open the door”

“why?”

“emergency”

*opens bedroom door* “what?”

“aunt may is making meatloaf”

“shit, uh...get your board, we’ll skate to mcdonalds and tell her we already ate”

peter and you RARELY ever brought your parents up until he found your dad’s briefcase, you didn’t have much to say

soon he was flooding his room with conspiracies and pulling you in to explain them

he began acting REALLY weird, but he was pretty open with you, he told you he went to oscorp

“YOU SNUCK IN??”

“your standards for me are way too high, y/n”

soon you started to feel not-so-good and weird things started to happen

“peter??”

“yeah? whats up?”

“this is gonna sound really weird...my hand is stuck to the door”

“it happened to you, too??”

“happening, pete. wait—this happened to you?? what is this???????”

yall done fucked up and got bit by spiders peter had so carelessly brought back into the house

it was an adjustment to say the least

and this adjustment got a whole lot harder that one night...you can remember peter just...so upset

you tried to chase him out to make sure he was okay, but uncle ben told you to stay with your aunt

maybe if you’d have been there...it would’ve been different, but when the cops got to your house you were at a loss for words

peter was covered in his blood still

“hey, hey, just breathe, okay? it’s not your fault, peter. just hop in the shower, yeah? i’ll take care of your clothes”

when peter took your advice and you were left alone, you just cried, you cried until he finally found you curled up in a ball in your room

then he cried, you just hugged each other sobbing your eyes out

peter got distant for a while, which was rough since the two of your were mourning for your uncle and dealing with these newfound powers

sooner or later he came around and helped you out, designing webshooters and a suit for you

“we match?”

*sigh* “yeah...yeah, we match”

ah yes, spider-team

you really tripped out new york at first, they thought spider-man was a teleporter

peter was still talking about your dad, but you really didn’t care, uncle ben was always going to be who raised you

you and peter would be covered in bruises after going out

“uh—peter punched me”

“y/n???!!!”

“I PANICKED”

just being dumb scared teens that cant function to save their lives until they get a little bit lucky

seriously like, every big villain you guys fought was just the worst

peter didn’t help all the time, he was good at provoking them sometimes

“hey, spider-man, you mind shutting up for a minute? for my sake?”

“sorry, sorry, just couldn’t help myself!”

he gushed to you about gwen stacy, he actually dragged you to her apartment to be patched up by her SEVERAL TIMES

yadda yadda yadda peter graduated high school! how cool is that? but he was late (what a surprise) even though you put off spidering today just for this

but he made it and you clapped the loudest for him

“thats my brotherrrr!!!”

cute family picture! (aunt may printed a bunch of them and gave them to you two and peter pinned them to his wall)

you and peter actually have a lot of pictures of the two of you just goofing off

he has one of you stuck in a trash can that cracks him up every time

seeing harry osborn again after YEARS

“wow, y/n, last time i saw you i just thought you were peter’s annoying little sibling”

“aww, it’s good to see you, too”

electrooooo

this guy really worried you bc like, bzzzz shock

you and peter weren’t equipped for that

it took a while, but you were finally able to deal with that

and several other problems

including peter’s breakup, which was a whole ordeal of its own

*peter laying upside down on your bed* “i dont know, y/n, you know? i wanna be with her so bad, i love her...but her dad is haunting me”

*you, drawing on your notepad with your legs propped up on his* “yeah, makes sense”

you actually had to tap out during the end of electro, you were hurt pretty bad

“y/n, hey? yeah, you’re okay. stay here, just stay right there, i’m gonna be back for you”

*thumbs up to show youre still alive*

but when peter came back for you there was bad news, he’d lost gwen

he ripped his mask off and fell to his knees, you could barely move but you powered through it, giving him a hug while he cried

“we...we better get home before aunt may starts to worry”

she was at work, so you two had the place to yourselves to clean up and mourn before the official news was revealed

“i should have listened to her dad, y/n, this is all my fault”

he was a mess, you couldn’t bare seeing him like this. it’s been so long since you’d seen him like this

the funeral was rough, peter was grasping onto your shoulder the whole time

he insisted that he was going to stick behind and stay with gwen for a while

“okay, i’ll see you at home...love you”

“love you too”

you gave him a hug and left him to his business, the next few months you were the only spider-person operating in new york...until rhino popped up

“im coming with you”

“you’re sure?”

“yeah, im sure”

(these are kinda ass but anyways im tagging my marvel ppl even tho ik this isnt mcu so just ignore this post if you dont care, sorry!!)

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @allthecreativeonesaretaken // @frostedgiant // @praellee // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs //

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #andrew garfield #amazing spider man #amazing spider man x reader #amazing spider man imagine #parker!reader #peter parker x sibling!reader #peter parker x sister!reader

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santigarcia · 4 years

Text

fly away with you

an ezra x reader fic~

rating: m for smut; virgin reader; some violence

word count: 6,780

summary: Waking up with no memory after a head injury, you find yourself in the presence of your rescuer - a handsome stranger named Ezra.

a/n: I AM SO SORRY i’ve had this fic like...finished but i just never got around to posting it. i had it broken up in chapters, but i just decided to post them all here w/ breaks to signify where the chapter would have ended. (im also adding the first two parts - so if anything seems familiar this is why!)

Ringing. There’s a loud ringing in your ears. Your vision is blurry, and that ringing won’t stop. You can’t hear anything else, and you’re not sure what you’re seeing. The color brown and green seem to blur together. What happened? Did you hit your head?

Reaching up to touch your temple, you feel wet. Your hair having been matted down with something sticky. Pulling your hand away, you look at it. Not that it does any good because your vision is still blurred. But there’s enough red on your fingertips to know it is blood.

Suddenly you smell it, your blood. And dirt. And earth.

Something else is mixed in, maybe smoke? Something in the air is foul.

The air.

You panic. Where’s your helmet? How long have you been breathing in this air? It’s the air you smell that’s foul. What if it’s toxic? Frantically you try to get up, but you can barely get your legs under you. You’re still too dizzy.

When your vision finally clears, you see your helmet on the ground next to you. There’s a large crack leading to a hole. Shards are everywhere. Some have blood on them, and you assume this is where your head injury is from. But upon further inspection, you see blood on the rock nearest you.

What happened?

It’s still foggy, but you try and retrace your steps from the day.

You had been with your cousin, whose whereabouts now you have no idea. It wasn’t even your choice to come along. But he claimed that your hands were the steadiest, and you’d be best for the harvesting. You had no idea what he was even talking about. You only agreed because your home world is the last place you want to be right now. And hey, he said he’d pay you so why not?

The ship ride over was a nightmare. It was smooth sailing quite frankly, but you’ve never been a fan of space travel. You like it on the ground. Though at the present moment the ground is covered in your blood, what a day it’s been. And you can barely remember it.

You do remember harvesting a couple of those things, you can’t even think to remember what your cousin called them. It wasn’t easy but it wasn’t hard either. You did just fine.

You also remember some arguing? Something was happening? There were these other people?

It’s starting to come back to you, but this air is getting to you. How long have you been walking? Are you even going in the right direction? You feel dizzy again and things are starting to spiral.

Then everything goes black.

A voice this time brings you out of your stupor. You can’t make out what they’re saying, but you can make out it’s a male voice. It’s not your cousin, this voice has a thick accent.

You blink several times to clear your vision again, and you take in your surroundings and this stranger.

First you notice you’re inside laying on a cot of some sort. Everything in the room is an olive green. An ugly yellow light shines overhead. It’s very dim. The space is small, it seems to be a large tent. There’s medical supplies and strange photographs on the wall. Where is this?

The man is sitting near you in a metal folding chair. He’s got no choice but to sit close to you, there’s not any room in this area.

He’s in a suit not unlike your own. His face is kind. His voice is deep, but nonthreatening. Light scruff dusts his cheeks and jaw, and his eyes are pleasant. There’s a small blond streak in his brown hair. And a haggard scar on his cheek. His kind eyes and kind smile almost seem out of place next to that scar.

He’s still talking, but you can’t make out what he’s saying. He’s gesturing with his hand. Just one. It’s only then you realize he’s missing his right arm. You feel dizzy again. What if this man is dangerous? Or did he just lose that arm in some accident?

You reach up to touch your temple again, and you feel cloth. A bandage has been wrapped around your head. And you notice, other than a slight headache, you’re not in any pain.

“Where am I?” you wonder aloud. Your throat is so dry your voice croaks.

“At last, the lady is with us!” the man speaks and this time you understand him. His voice sounds nice. That accent is so strong. “Alas, I must admit, I myself do not know where this is. But I was out and about on my harvest when I saw you lyin’ unconscious on the ground. You were gaspin’ for air. So, I took it upon myself to bring you to shelter and here we are.” he gestures with his arm while he looks around the room. That ugly yellow light shines on his face, and suddenly the light is not so ugly on his tan skin.

“Thank you,” you tell him sitting up a little. You’re still feeling dizzy, but you feel safe. “What happened?” you think aloud again. And where is your cousin?

“I heard what sounded like gunfire off in the distance,” he explains, “that’s how I came to find you.”

“I was with my cousin; did you see anyone?”

“I am afraid I only saw some bodies, miss. You were the only one I saw alive.”

Your cousin, and whoever attacked you must have been near where you first woke up. But in your daze, you started walking and missed the bodies entirely.

You were warned this was dangerous work. Sniffling, you wipe your nose with the back of your hand. Grief and shock are setting in. Your cousin is gone, and your harvest.

“I’m stuck here,” you whisper.

“Nonsense,” the man smiles, it’s a warm smile. He seems so kind. You want to trust him. You may have no other choice. “I could not in good conscience leave you behind. You have suffered a mighty fine wound to your noggin, and your poor lungs have breathed in this nasty shit air we got around here.”

He is talking so fast that you can barely keep up.

“Now, I’m sure you’re a-wonderin’ if you can trust me. And right now, little birdie, I’m all you’ve got.”

In any other situation, if a stranger called you a pet name, you might recoil. But he says things so casually, you don’t feel any malice or perversion behind it.

“You can help me harvest, and I can get you outta here. There is my offer plain and simple. You can surely decline, but if your cousin is gone, my condolences. And you have no way to get home.”

Home. You don’t want to go home. You don’t want to stay here, but you don’t want to go home.

“What’s that?” he leans forward, his eyes squinting. He’s trying to hear; you didn’t realize you’ve just said that out loud. “Where are you from?”

“Zulara,” you mumble.

He winces, clenching his teeth, “I do not blame you one bit for not wantin’ to head on back to that planet. I am currently residin’ on Anvarvis V, and I’d be glad to take you along with me.”

You sit for a moment weighing your options. You’ve heard good things about Anvarvis V. or was it IV?

“We’ll split the harvest 50/50?” you ask.

He nods.

“Ok. It’s a deal,” you nod and stick out your hand.

“Alright,” he grins. “I’m Ezra, what can I call you?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

And that’s how you began a partnership with Ezra. You worked well together. Tuns out you were really good at the harvesting part, and Ezra’s wit and charm made him a good salesman. He brokered deals and sold the product you’d harvested for a lot of money.

You’ve been so busy; you’ve not even gone to his home planet yet. But somehow you liked this life with him. There’s space enough of his ship for you, and you quite enjoy his company.

Truth be told you enjoy his company more and more each passing day. Your cheeks warm now when he calls you “little bird.” Your heart leaps into your throat if he ever touches you.

That first week with him he touched you a lot. Yes, okay he was checking the bandage on your head, but his fingers would graze skin and he was standing so close to you.

That’s when it first started you think. Being so close, seeing his soft lips surrounded by a dark stubble. His gentle brown eyes looking over your wound.

Maybe you were just lonely. Or maybe it was sharing such a small space with your rescuer. But you had a crush that only seemed to grow.

It started to suffocate you being so close to him and not being his.

The two of you fell into a natural routine and you grew accustomed to seeing him shirtless. That first time seeing him without a shirt almost sent you over. You ached to touch his olive skin. He looked so warm. You had to force yourself not to stare.

He thought you were looking at his right shoulder, where his arm used to be. And he began to ramble on about how it happened. You were embarrassed because that’s not what you were looking at, but you listened to his story all the same. He was opening up to you.

Ezra has the gift of gab, and he talks nonstop. But if you ever have anything to say, he listens with a deep interest. You’ve never felt so heard before. He never talks over you. His constant talking if often stories or little tidbits of trivia, but after that night of him opening up about his arm, things changed.

He was almost always in a good mood, but when he couldn’t complete a task due to his arm, he’d be a little grumpy and frustrated. But after telling you what happened, he let you help him without protest.

Maybe he got the feeling he could trust you back.

“Thank you, little bird,” he always said. And the last time he said it, you know he saw your cheeks turn red.

You figure at some point he’ll ask, or you’ll admit your feelings. You’re not sure which, but both options scare you. You’ve never done this before.

Back at home, you spent most of your life in school or working. There was no time for relationships, as much as you wanted one. You read stories of lovers, you kept them hidden under your mattress. The want was there, but no experience to fulfill that big question in your mind of what it’s like.

What it feels like to be loved by someone, to be held. You always were a little shy about the sexual parts of the book, yet those were the parts you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Ezra’s voice cuts in. A deep blush stains your cheeks. You’d been remembering of a story you’d read where a man pleasures a woman with his mouth. You look at Ezra’s mouth and feel your stomach drop and pray he can’t read your mind.

“Nothing,” you chirp at being caught.

“From that look on your face, I’m gonna wager a gamble and say it’s definitely something clanking around in that head.”

Scrambling, you try to think of anything to change the subject. He’s watching you squirm, and he’s delighted in it. Maybe it won’t be too hard after all to tell him if he can already see it.

“When’s the next sell?” you ask, nibbling the skin off your bottom lip.

“Pretty soon,” he replies. “I will head out soon. Won’t be gone long. Will you be alright to wait here until I make a triumphant return?” he grins.

You nod, returning his smile. You feel a heat pooling in between your legs. You shift a little in your seat trying to relieve the pressure. As soon as he’s gone, you’ll do something about it.

Two nights ago, you touched yourself thinking of him. That was the first time. You’d seen his bare ass when he was exiting the shower area. He had to have known you might see, and you couldn’t decide which thought thrilled you more. But the image of him naked was seared into your mind. And that night while he slept soundly, you touched yourself - wishing it were him.

You’d come up with a dirty fantasy, one you will play out again as soon as he leaves. And he can’t leave soon enough.

Normally, you’d go with him. But this buyer is a familiar one and can be trusted. You’re not worried about Ezra taking care of himself in a fight. He’s been in plenty of a scrap or two.

But if you’re honest, your brain is so clouded with the thought of getting a release you’re not worried about him in the slightest.

The thought passes in your mind you don’t know how long he’ll be gone, so you elect to leave your pants on. You lay down on your bed in your little corner of the ship.

The main hanger is around room, your beds are on opposite walls but still in the same room. So, you can see his bed from yours, and you consider going over to his bed, but you’ve already got your hand down your pants thinking about him on your bed.

You begin to tease yourself and you’re already wet from your own imagination. You think of him naked. What he looks like from the front. What he must look like when he’s hard for you. You think of his lips, and how his hand feels. What they must feel like on sensitive skin. You think of his stubble scraping your thighs. How good his long thick fingers would feel like inside of you. How he’d be gentle taking you for the first time.

Your thighs shake and you clench around your fingers wishing it were him.

The release hits you hard, and you gasp. It echoes through the ship. Your breathing is heavy but beginning to calm, when suddenly you hear:

“Well hello there little birdie!”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Horror floods through your veins and your heart is pounding in your head. You’re still coming down from your high, while fear spikes within you. Your eyes are wide, and you’re frozen staring at him. Your mouth is hanging open, and his mouth is curved in a playful smirk.

When tears begin to fall from your eyes, his expression softens completely.

“Little bird, I-,” he sticks his hand out trying to demonstrate he didn’t mean to embarrass you, but it’s too late. Tears pouring down your cheeks you run into the bathroom chamber and push the button to close the door harshly. It hisses loudly, and the moment it closes you sink to the floor. Cheeks red with embarrassment.

In those books you’ve read, maybe the character wouldn’t have cared. And would have let the man know what she was doing. But this just isn’t how you wanted this to happen. As much as you do want Ezra to know you want him. The shock of the moment startled you.

Ezra outside in the main hangar is uncharacteristically quiet. You can hear him rummaging around. From the sound of it, he’s taking off the bulky outer suit. It takes him a moment since he only has the help of one arm.

He’ll be sitting down on his bunk and unfasten the clips and zippers. He grits his teeth sometimes, other times he bites his lower lip. You tease him about the different faces he makes when he’s concentrating on something.

Deciding to clear your mind further, you turn on the shower. For a moment you hope he doesn’t need to take one after being outside, but you imagine he’s letting you have your space for a moment.

While you shower, you try to decide what you’re even going to say.

“Hi Ezra, I was touching myself thinking about you.”

Well. That might not be a bad way to start. But that feeling of nerves hits your gut. What if he doesn’t want you back? What if he does want you?

You mull this over in your mind and wash yourself clean. Normally the thought of being naked in here while he’s out there has sent you a thrill. Now you’re even more aware of him.

You decide you do want him. But you don’t know where to start. Him seeing you is one way to break the ice.

Gathering your courage, you wrap a towel around yourself and exit the bathroom into the main hanger. Your eyes fix upon him, and every nerve is on fire.

As expected, he’d changed out of his suit. He’s sitting on his cot in comfortable pants, a worn black Henley, and some socks. His hair is sweaty, but it’s sticking up in multiple directions from obviously running a hand through it. His right arm sleeve is tied in a knot near his shoulder to stay out of his way. He’s got something propped up on his left knee, and he’s practicing his hand strength with his left hand. He pauses when he sees you, he doesn’t speak.

He’s waiting for you to say something first. He can read the terror in your eyes as you step closer. Giving you full attention, he frees his hand, and watches you approach him slowly.

When you’re right in front of his spread legs, he reaches out a hand to grab yours.

“You doin’ alright there little bird? You are tremblin’ like a leaf on a tree with strong winds blowin’ every which way.”

You open your mouth trying to think of what to say. You’d forgotten your entire plan you’d cooked up in the shower. Now that you’re here in front of him and he’s looking at you with those soft eyes, your mind is blank.

You almost wonder if you should just drop the towel and climb on him, but you can’t help but want some romancing.

“Say what’s on your mind little bird, I see the wheels turning in your head.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” is all you can think to say. But are you sorry? You don’t know what’s going on.

“I’m not,” he grins, but the grin softens, and his eyes are gentle. He stands and presses his palm to your cheek. Shaking a little from the touch, you lean into his hand. “But I am sorry that my presence startled you so, and that I saw such an intimate act without your permission. I admit I was only present for the uh, grand finale as it were, but on my honor, I will not speak of this again if you would prefer it.”

Your cheeks darkened as he spoke, and you can see the look in his eyes. It’s a gentle attraction.

“I-” you start but only blush deeper under his gentle gaze. His eyes are big, he’s listening intently.

“I understand your profound embarrassment, but there is nothing to be ashamed of seeking a fine release such as that. If I may say little bird, I’m only sorry I was not the one to give it to you.”

Your eyes widen at the last sentence. You swallow hard.

This is it.

“You want me?”

“I do little bird. I have for a quite a spell now. You are, simply put, the sweetest thing I have ever had the pleasure to know, and you have brought a light into my dark life I did not know I was needin’.”

His hand is still on your face, his thumb brushes you bottom lip.

“I want you too,” you give him a shy smile which he returns, “only I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You surely seemed to know a few moments ago,” he winks.

“Ezra,” you groan and bury your face in his shoulder.

“My sincerest apologies,” he teases, “I already broke my promise.”

He’s trying to make you laugh, which it does. And the two of you share a moment of laughter before you pull back to look up at him again.

“I’m serious though, Ezra. I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never-”

“Never what?” he repeats, thumb rubbing your flushed cheeks.

“I’ve never even been kissed,” you tell him.

“Well, little bird. It would seem the honor has been bestowed to me to teach you the lovely ways of liplockin’.”

“What do I do?” you whisper, which he seems to find amusing.

“You know something, I have never once been in situation quite like this in my lifetime.”

That coaxes a smile from you, and you’re already feeling relaxed.

“I can’t say that I have either,” you laugh.

“First step, is to close those pretty little eyes of yours.”

You close your eyes, and smile, you trust him. You think back to when you met him all those weeks ago when he saved your life. You certainly didn’t imagine this happening then.

“Now, tilt your head just a little,” he pushes a little with his hand guiding you. “And open that mouth of yours, just a smidge.” He pushes down your bottom lip with his thumb.

His voice stops, and you feel his breath on your face. He smells like mint and sweat. You decide it’s a good smell.

You feel the tip of his nose first press against the top of your cheek. Then his lips gently press against yours. His tongue just barely touches your lips. His stubbly chin and upper lip scrape on your skin in a way you didn’t know you’d love this much. His hand holds your face gently, and what he doesn’t say, or can’t say during this kiss, is he wishes he could wrap his other arm around you.

Your knees buckle, and you let go of the towel that’d you’d been holding on to so tight and mold your body to his. A strong thigh is in between your legs, your hands cup his face and you pull away gasping. Your heart is fluttering.

He’s slow to open his eyes, the smile splits his face before his eyelids even flutter open.

“Now that,” he licks his lips, “was simply divine.” He leans in and places a couple quick pecks to your lips getting a laugh from you.

You take a step back, and the towel is going to fall. And you were going to let it. But much to your surprise, his hand stops it by pressing his hand against your chest, keeping the cloth from exposing you to him.

“Hold on now,” he breathes. “That little heart that’s fluttering under my hand has surely had enough excitement for one day. And as much as I would love to see that body of yours, I am not wanting to take you to bed in this dirty old ship. I would rather take you home. Since I am unfortunately missing a tool of the trade, I am not experienced in taking lovers into my bed with ol’ lefty here. It’ll be a learning experience for us both little bird. You alright with that?”

You nod, putting your hand over his on your chest.

“Then let’s get you home.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Your head is pounding, and you can see him. Your cousin. It’s like you’re on the outside looking in. You see the clearing of trees and two men with your cousin. It’s a standoff, everyone is frozen. There you hear a sharp crack somewhere in the woods, causing the men to take fire. One man shoots your cousin, the other steals the harvest from your cousin’s dead hands. Then that man is shot, he killed his own partner and took the harvest from his hands. He turned around to face you, and you saw his face.

It was Ezra.

With a sharp gasp, you jolt awake. Sweat is on your brow, your heart is racing, and you feel sick to your stomach. Panic sets in because you can’t remember where you are.

Looking around you realize that you’re home, with Ezra.

After your kiss with him, he got the ship ready and punched in the coordinates to head home. His home, but now it would be yours. You expressed to him your apprehension of space travel, and he took down the med pack to give you a medicine to calm your nerves.

“Fear of flying is not uncommon,” he’d told you warmly with a kiss on your cheek.

After the flight and landing, he gave you another medicine to help your lungs adjust to the air of this planet.

You were so nervous, but full of excitement! You have a new home with this wonderful soul.

The planet is gorgeous. The ship landed out the outskirts of the city. It’s nighttime so you can see it’s all lit up, and it’s blue. Every light is a twinkling blue.

“It’s beautiful!” you’d gasped. Ezra was proud to show you his home.

He was not originally from this planet; this is where he lives now when he isn’t prospecting.

He owns a small house is near the outskirts. He could afford a city apartment if he wanted, but he preferred living out away from the hustle and bustle of city life. He likes his view of the trees from his living room, which are also blue.

His house is humble. One bedroom, one bathroom, a quaint kitchen, a small table, and a sitting area. The shelves and walls are covered in artifacts and trinkets from other world’s he’s visited. You love it. It feels like a lived-in home.

“We will have to share this bed unless you want me to take the couch?” Ezra tells you when you collapse onto his bed. It’s been too long a day with all the space travel.

“I don’t mind,” you tell him, and he grins easily.

“No gettin’ to business tonight little bird. I gotta rest, you do too.”

You nod, you’re too tired for that. Though if he wanted to, you wouldn’t have said no.

You fell asleep that night with his body close to yours.

He’s still close by when you wake up from your dream.

“Little bird?” he asks waking up, rubbing his eyes with his hand. “You alright?”

You scramble out of the bed to get away from him. Your heart is beating so fast.

“It was YOU,” you gasp, tears are beginning to fall.

“Me? Birdie, I do not have a damn idea what on this planet you are referring to.”

“You shot and killed my cousin! I saw it in my dream!!”

He sits up and tries to calm you down.

“Little birdie-”

“Stop calling me that!” you cry. You hug your arms around your waist.

“Look at me. Look at my face.” He waits til you look at him, there’s no joke or smile on his face. His eyes are wide, and you can tell he’s upset you’re upset. “I did not kill him. I didn’t even have my gun with me when I found the bodies.”

You think back to when you first met him, and what you can remember from then, he didn’t have a gun on him.

“But it looked so real,” you sniffle.

“I had hoped this would not happen to you, but one of the side effects of the medicine I had given you is nightmares. You’re on a new planet, in a new place. It would not be a surprise to me if you had weird dreams. Now as to your cousin, I do not think you will ever uncover the mystery of his death. I can recall to you what I saw again if it will ease your mind.”

You sniffle again and nod.

He tells you what he remembers, and you do trust him. But that dream still felt so real.

You had been finishing up a harvest when your cousin went to look for another. Your memory is hazy after that.

Ezra fills in the gaps based on what he saw. He’d seen two bodies; one was your cousin and then another man. Your harvest was gone, and there were footsteps leading in another direction. Ezra, not wanting to get into it with this guy, went the opposite way. Which is when he found your shattered helmet and blood. He followed your footprints which led him to you.

“So, I killed my cousin,” you bury your face in your hands, sitting down on the bed.

“You are making less and less sense,” his eyebrows crease.

“You said there was a large branch and I must have tripped, so me tripping sounded the alarm causing the gunfire to go off,” you being to cry into your hands.

Ezra scoots closer to you to wrap and arm around you. He holds you close to him and kisses your hair while he shushes you.

“That was a whole tricky situation and no one’s fault. I have been in a sticky situation like that before and it would seem that people who are trigger happy need no cue to fire away. You are not at fault. Besides, if all this had not occurred, I might not have met the love of my life.”

You look up from your hands, tears still in your eyes.

“What?”

“You heard what I said,” he kisses the shell of your ear.

Crying now tears of joy, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss all over his face. He topples backwards, laughing the whole way down.

“I love you too,” you say between kisses. “I’m sorry I accused you of murder,” you laugh.

He laughs, rolling over so he’s on top of you. He kisses your face and dries your tears. You start to writhe under him when you feel him beginning to harden on your thigh.

“What do you say to some breakfast and then we come back to this bed huh?”

Feeling a little bold, you reach down to cup him through his sleep pants. He gasps out in surprise and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Why leave?” you ask, unsure of what to do, but you like touching him. You continue to, until your stomach rumbles loudly. He raises an eyebrow teasing you, even though you still have your hand around his cock. “Fine,” you laugh, “breakfast first.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

While Ezra makes breakfast, you look around your new home. Since the house is small and his voice carries, you ask him questions about different objects, and he rambles on from the kitchen.

There are photographs of him when he was younger, those are your favorites. You’re looking at one particular photograph, when he had both arms and no blond streak. He looked like a completely different person.

Your thoughts are torn away when you hear him call your name.

“Could you reach that spice for me off the shelf?” His one hand is too busy to stop and reach. “Just set it down on the counter there,” he nods. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile and wrap your arms around him from behind. Kissing his cheek, he hums. “I’m sorry I’m acting so strange, I think I’m a little nervous,” you admit kissing his shoulder blade.

“Well birdie, it is no small feat to be joined in a union with another person in such an intimate fashion, especially when one is not experienced. It is a lovely thing but can be an overwhelmin’ experience. I am glad to assist and ease the knot in your belly of nerves.”

“I love the way you talk,” you smile kissing his shoulder again.

“And I quite love the way you are holdin’ me right now.”

“I’m sorry again about this morning. I’m sure that’s not the morning you had in mind.”

“No to worry. Grief and change do a wonder on your mind. I know that from losing my arm.”

“Tell me how you got that blond streak in your hair,” you murmur and lean your cheek against his shoulder.

“Now that is an interesting story!” One of which he tells for the rest of the morning. And when he’s done, you’re still not sure what exactly happened. But you laughed and all but forgot about the nerves in the pit of your stomach.

So much so that when he stands and reaches out his hand for you, you’re not sure what he’s doing.

“You ready?” he asks, motioning his head toward the bedroom. Your heart skips, but you nod, yes.

He leads you back into his room, and has you sit down on the bed. He moves around the room setting the mood. First, he pushes a button on the wall that lowers the curtains, dimming the room. He closes the door behind him and sits next to you on the bed.

“How does this work?” you ask a little timid, but very eager.

“Lay back,” he tells you. He lays down on top of you and begins to kiss your face and your lips. Anywhere his lips can kiss, he kisses. Your cheeks, your ears, your eyelids even. The tip of your nose.

Then he moves to your neck and chin and jaw. He adds some bites to your neck, and sucks on your clavicle.

“Can I?” he asks tugging on the hem of your shirt. You nod, and with his help, you pull it off exposing chest to him now. You swallow, feeling a little shy watching him eye your breasts.

You’ve never seen him so speechless. Instead of talking, he puts his mouth to use and suckles your perked nipple into his mouth. His hand cups your other breast and thumbs over your nipple. When you gasp, he sucks harder and pinches his fingers harder. Your hands fly to his hair and you pull. He growls a little and you feel slick between your legs.

“Ezra?” you whine. Your breast is shiny with his saliva, and there’s a sting left behind from his teeth and grit from his facial hair.

“What do you need birdie?” He murmurs into you flesh. His hand smoothing down your skin and gliding over your tummy and to the waistband of your pants.

“Ezra wait,” you gasp.

“Are my ministrations too fast for your likin’?” he questions, lips dragging along your stomach. He’s trying to make you laugh again, or at least relax you further.

“I-” you pause.

“It’s ok,” he smiles and kisses your tummy. “Help me?” he says tugging on your pants a little. You help him push your pants and underwear down, and you watch in equal parts arousal and embarrassment as he sees you.

He touches a pointer finger to your entrance, touching the slick gathered there. He dips inside and you arch your back feeling the drag of his finger inside. His thumb brushes your clit and you jolt.

“Now remember, I am not as well practiced with my left, so you’ll have to excuse any inexperience on my part, though I do know how to please a lady.”

“Ezra!” is all you can think to say when he slides a second finger in.

“But as it seems, you’re enjoying this regardless. That’s good,” he smiles and presses a loud kiss to your thigh. He doesn’t stop the toying with your clit. Even after you hit that first high and come around his fingers. He keeps going. Teasing you just a little more. “You are doin’ so well my girl,” he purrs.

He looks up at you when he pulls his hand away, his grin is pure lovesick. Your eyes are hazy from the high you’ve just been given, and there’s still more to come.

“I want just one more from you before we get down to it alright?” He tells you. He’s working his way up the bed, and you’re not sure what he’s doing. He pulls the pillows together, and he flops down on his back, his head on the pillows. “Alright little bird, c’mere,” he says and taps his chin.

Taking his meaning with heat covering your body, you climb up and carefully lower yourself onto his face. His tongue and mouth ready to accept your heat. You groan in unison as he makes the first lick. You’re still so sensitive from before, but wow it feels good.

Oh.

This is really good.

His mouth, of course, of course his mouth is as skilled in pleasure as it is in talking. His tongue moves expertly on your flesh as if he’s done this to you a million times. You’re coming on his tongue in mere minutes.

His arm is tight around you, and you buck against him as you come down.

His eyes open, and he looks up at you, he’s quite pleased with himself.

“Now if this isn’t the best view a man could have then I don’t know what is,” he smiles, his eyes lingering on your breasts for a beat, then back up to your face.

Carefully, on wobbly legs, you lay down on the bed, and Ezra works to take off his pants. You lean up to look at him, he’s on his knees now, naked. He’s stroking himself lazily, getting ready for you.

“Can I?” you sit up reaching for him.

“Be my guest,” he reassures, and you wrap your fingers around him. He winces and groans a little. “It has been far too long since I’ve been held but someone other than my own hand.”

He feels nice, and you have the desire to keep moving your hand until he finds his high. But he pushes your hand away.

“I do appreciate the eagerness, but if you keep that up, we won’t get to all the fun. Lay down for me alright?”

You do as he asks, and he pauses for a moment. He’s thinking.

When he gets the idea, you see it come across his face with a little “oh!” and a grin. He lays down on top of you, you’re chest to chest.

“Little birdie, I need you to wrap your legs around me? Got it?” You nod and do as he asks. From this position you can feel the tip of him at your entrance. Putting his weight on you for a moment, he reaches down between your bodies and lines himself up with you. “There might be a little bit of a pinch, but we’ll work ya through it alright?”

You nod again, and he pushes inside. He moves his hand back up to smooth your hair out of your face. He moves slowly, watching your face, kissing you more to get you relaxed. Once he’s fully inside, he waits.

He gives you a moment to breathe, then when you give the ok, he moves. His arm is up by your head now, keeping him from putting his whole weight on you and giving him some leverage. His thrusts are steady, and your body moves with him, gasping each time he hits that spot in you.

“It pains me that I cannot reach down to tease that lovely pussy of yours, but birdie, you gotta touch yourself for me. Can you do that?”

You slip your hand between your bodies and touch yourself in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Good girl,” he coaxes. “Don’t stop,” he tells you nibbling your ear. And you don’t. You keep going until you feel the high approaching. When it hits you, he’s not far behind. His cock twitches and pulses, and he comes deep inside you.

Exhaustion hits him and he puts more of his weight on you. Now with a free hand, he pushes your hand away and touches your clit again just to touch you a little one more time. That touch has you jolt, and he laughs darkly in your neck.

“Ezra?”

“Mmm?” he looks up at you, and you start to smooth his hair back.

“Can we do this again? Tonight?” you bite your lip.

“Hmm,” he pretends to think. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“Ezra!” you laugh and playfully hit his chest.

“Okie,” he shrugs and begins to blow raspberries on your chest.

You stay with him then, tangled in the sheets all morning. And all afternoon, and into the evening. You can barely keep your hands off one another. And there’s not much desire to go prospecting any time soon, not when you’ve discovered something much richer in each other.

taglist: @agentpike, @aliciaxglasgow, @bisexual-space-slut, @blancatobarxoxo, @damndamer0n, @feelmyroarrrr, @ghosttofcalum, @giselatropicana, @huliabitch, @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa, @itspdameronthings, @javihoney, @knittingqueen13, @limenlimon, @magicsuperheroes, @mandoplease, @marvel-dameron, @melanietrancy, @mitchi-c, @pajamasecrets, @pascalplease, @pascalz, @perropascal, @phoenixhalliwell, @punkpascal, @shadow-assassin-blix, @stanningtoomanypeopleatonce, @the-bird-suit, @thehippiequilter, @this-cat-is-dea, @tintinwrites, @wakalas, @xremember-me-notx

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#ezra x reader #ezra (prospect)#ezra #prospect #my writing #mine #SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER OMG

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staycult · 4 years

Text

highschool!jisung as your boyfriend

pairing — gender neutral reader x jisung

genre — fluff / bullet scenario / friends to lovers

word count — 1.6k

enjoy!

u and jisung had been friends for quite some time now

ever since highschool started probably

u guys were in the same friend group

you were always with him during lunch

and u guys go home together bcs ure practically neighbors

“[y/n]! smile!” he said as he pulled out his favored polaroid camera

as you were about to turn your head around you heard a loud click, coming from the camera

a flash of light blinded your eyes

so you tried to cover it

“hey! i wasnt ready!” you pouted, giving jisung a light slap in the arm

he stuck his tongue out to mock your reaction and pulled out the film from his camera

“you look ugly” jisung snorted, fanning the film

“shut up and start moving!” you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand to make him walk faster

bcs guys were about to go home

“do you want to stop by at the park first?” jisung offered

ofc u cant resist him

his presence always make u feel at ease

“buy me ice cream then let’s go” you bargained, earning an eye roll from him

“Two ice cream cones please!” you requested, giving the money to the cashier. you tapped your finger on the cold surface while your other armed propped your chin. jisung on the other hand was shuffling through his notebook filled with polaroid pictures that he took with your friends.

“stop staring at my pictures, ji” you laughed while grabbing your cone from the man in front of you and giving the other cone to jisung. “keep staring and you’ll fall for me” you added as you licked your ice cream. he clicked his teeth, “ew, you wish”

both you and jisung walked around the park, still in your school uniforms. the park is the place where you and your friends hang around when you guys have time. the slide and the swing are your most favorite part.

you sat down in the swing and tapped the other seat to motion jisung to sit down as well. “look, the sun is setting!” you pointed as you finished your cone. you looked over to jisung who was his camera pointed at you for the nth time. but this time, you managed to strike a pose in front of his polaroid camera. his cheeks can be seen from behind, obviously smiling at the sight.

days went by

you and jisung had been hanging out in the park swing almost every day

just the both of you

watching the sunsets and taking pictures

you noticed that he only takes random pictures of you but when youre with friends, they need to ask first before jisung would take a picture

he claims that your face is funnier with stolen shots

ofc u believed him

he is your best friend after all

the school year is about to end

and your music and arts teacher is talking about your final project

which was to write a song or poem, draw a portrait or make a poster

with a special meaning behind it

you almost ripped your hair out of frustration when you tried to compose a song or draw

so u went for a simple poster

you and your friends were comparing your final outputs in the cafeteria

“come on, show us yours!” your friends encouraged you

“ahh, it’s really ugly im not even good at these kinds of shit!” you cursed, showing it to them anyway

“seriously? it’s good! youre like jisung. god, both of you say you did bad but it’s not!” you friend said while eyeing your poster

“really? jisung i want to see yours!” you said while grabbing some of your friend’s food

“no” he said, sticking a tongue out to mock you

“why not?” you replied while pouting

both of you bickered for atleast 3 minutes

saying lots of ‘no’s’ and ‘why not’s’

he had enough of your shit

and pulled you out of the cafeteria

holding his notebook, backpack and a ukelele

jisung was grabbing you by your wrist until you arrived at the school’s rooftop. you didn't have the time to respond at his sudden action.

“ouch! what was that about?” you said once he lets go of your wrist. “you want me to show you my output right? well here it is. listen.”

you were taken aback by his words, did he really get annoyed by your previous bickering? and why are we on a roof top anyway????

jisung grabbed his ukelele and opened his notebook, which was filled with polaroid pictures of you that was taken over the school year and years before that.

“it’s called hello stranger,” he spoke and started strumming on his ukelele

“The moment I felt like our eyes met

my body moved all on its own

Movin’, movin’, movin’, movin’, movin’

The closer we get the more I think

about what it is I’m feeling

My mind is filled with question marks

I can’t see anyone

around us anymore, you’re just growing more clear

Everything on this road

is blurred and faded out except for you

I’m filled with nothing but curiosity about who you may be

It’s like I’m approaching you drawn by something I can’t even know

I won’t beat around the bush, my subconscious is pushing straight forward

having me walk as it pleases without a single thought

Ah, a new wind is blowing

Where could it have come from?

It’s strange, but it’s not cold

Before I know it my feet are moving, following the wind

I take my hands out of my pockets

Hello Stranger, I keep being drawn to you

Growing closer

to you without a single thought

I’m curious, more and more and more as time passes,

why am I like this? Who are you to do this to me?

Stranger

Nana nanana nana

Closer

Hello Stranger, who are you to do this to me?

I can see in you the things that I myself am lacking

I try yelling out to you the things I had just yelled into empty space

The things I didn’t have, that I was missing before I met you,

all of these feelings, every moment

my mind is filled with exclamation points

I can’t see anyone

around us anymore, you’re just growing more clear

Everything on this road

is blurred and faded out except for you

Something’s different about you, but I’m not sure what

I think the light approaching me now must be you

Even if I look away I can still see your afterimage,

you never leave my sight, who are you to do this to me?

Ah, my feet are moving, following this new wind

I take my hands out of my pockets

Hello Stranger, I keep being drawn to you

Growing closer

to you without a single thought

I’m curious, more and more and more as time passes,

why am I like this? Who are you to do this to me?

i love you”

it’s been weeks since you and jisung last spoke and since his sudden confession

you were about to tell him how you felt, too

how he makes you happy these past few days

to the point where you were falling for him too

but he ignored you

was it because he felt awkward?

or scared?

confusion was taking over you

and you know damn well youre gonna have to take measures into your own hands

so you came up with a plan to atleast get him to talk to you

“come on! just say i wont be there” you begged your friend. “fine. so roof top it is?” you squealed and gave your friend a hug. plan was to make your friends invite jisung at the same place he confessed on only to see youre the only one there

you grabbed your backpack since you had a vacant class and went to the rooftop to prepare. you knew jisung had a vacant class too, so you were hopeful he’s going to drop by.

“hi, i like you too” you practiced “no, too awkward” you ran your hands through your hair in frustration. “hey jisung! will you vincent van gogh out with me?” you repeated with hand motions this time. “god no” you mentally slapped yourself because of the cringe

“jisung, i like yo-” you repeated. you felt someone hug you from behind, “you do?” his husky voice sent shivers down to your spine as he hugged you even tighter.

“i-i do” you admitted, removing his arms so you can face him properly. “i really really do, i cant stand you not talking to me.” you burried your head to the crook of his neck.

“im sorry, baby. i didnt know how to handle rejection yet” he let out a low laugh, earning a laugh from you too. he snaked his arms around you and swayed you back and forth. humming the tune of the song he composed.

“youre mine now, are you?” he spoke, kissing your forehead as you gave him a nod.

bf jisung would mean

A VERY PLAYFUL RELATIONSHIP

SERIOUSLY

the confession may be soft and cuddly

but after like 2 days

yall are like best friends again

but with a mixture of sweetness

things never really changed

but you were still glad

love letters and songs !!!!!

lots and lots of kisses

cheek, forehead, chin, shoulder kisses

you name it

he would gently cup your face while doing so

he likes teasing you

but u tease him back

ends up with him being all pouty

will help u out with homework

ice cream and park swing dates

would literally take polaroid pictures of both of you

the ones he took before yall got together is displayed in his room

on the back of his phone

and the rest, he keeps it in his notebook

which was filled with songs about you

will sing you to sleep

will hold your hand literally every where

“baby, im the luckiest to have you”

author's note —

just imagine it's the slow version of hello stranger ok ALSO i want jisung to be my bf like ??

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