#most of my life ive had friends i could just lay in a pile with like cats but i havent really the past however many years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lacontroller1991 · 3 years

Text

Burnt Skies (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

@h-hxgirl

Requested by Anon: Saw this captain boomerang fanfic where he finds she's pregnant while they're on mission, I was wondering if you could maybe do something similar for Rick

Author's Note: He would be so protective of the reader fr fr, also this is gonna be angst angst angst so just beware

Warning: Death, pregnancy, language, blood, major character death, spoilers

“Hey (Y/N), you ready to go?” Rick’s voice echoed through the room before he halted, seeing you on the floor, head in the toilet.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” you replied weakly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and flushing the toilet.

“Are you sure? Are you feeling alright?” He asked, rubbing your back as you looked up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you there,” nodding his head, he walked out the door with guns strapped to his body on his tac vest. Looking at your reflection, you noticed a slight greenish tint to your face. Ignoring the wave of nausea, you made your way out of the base and to the plane. Walking up the ramp, you took a seat next to Rick who looked at you with concern in his brown eyes.

“Baby, maybe you should sit this one out. You aren’t looking too hot,” he whispered in your ear as you brushed the notion off. After all, you did have a really bad gut feeling about this mission.

“I’m here. I’m going,” you stated firmly as he looked you over one more time before shrugging his shoulders, knowing it was of no use to argue with you.

----------

The plane ride was hell. With the criminals being loud and Harley’s non stop chatter accompanying your periodic bouts of nausea, you were ready to get the hell off of the plane and right into combat.

“Alright guy, get ready to drop,” Rick shouted as the cargo door opened to reveal water beneath you. Once he gave the signal, you jumped into the cool water and began to swim your way to the mainland, waiting for the rest of the team to catch up to you. After everyone, save for the Weasel, had made it to the shore, you glanced over to your boyfriend who was laying next to Harley.

“Hey guys, it’s me. I’m the guy who called you and I brought my friends,” Blackguard shouted into the open, raising his hands while ignoring the shouts coming from the rest of the team and your boyfriend, Waller’s distant cursing ringing in your ear. Next thing you know, there was gunfire in every direction and things went to chaos. You quickly sought shelter behind a rock and shot off a few rounds into the woods, hoping to take down some of the Corto Maltese soldiers. “(Y/N), watch out,” Rick shouted at you as you turned to see what he was talking about, but it was too late before a large piece of debris from one of the trees knocked you out cold.

You woke up to machines attached to your body. Feeling the bile rise in your throat, you tried to get out of the restraints and look for a place to dump the contents of your stomach. Suddenly a pan was placed in front of you and that was all you needed to release the bile. Groaning at the light, you looked around the room and was surprised to see a cleanish room which plenty of nurses occupied.

“Ah good, you’re awake,” a voice commented as a rough hand pulled your head back, forcing you to look up at one of the generals you were tasked to take out.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” You asked, squirming your body against the bed, trying to loosen some of the restraints.

“Mi amore, we are treating you. Seems you have caught a parasite,” he replied before summoning the nurse over to you, carrying a plate of food and some juice, “you’re government must really be struggling if they’re sending pregnant women into the field,” he mentioned as your blood ran cold.

“That’s impossible,” muttering to yourself, your head went fuzzy at the concept of you being pregnant. With Rick’s kid.

“On the contrary, when we brought in your friend and you, we noticed certain things,” motioning down to your stomach only brought awareness to the fact that you were practically naked in a room full of the enemy.

“Let me go,” you pleaded, pulling your arms as much as you could.

“I think not,” he replied before nodding to one of the nurses who moved to turn on a machine and attach it to your head. Screams of agony soon left your lips, blocking out the sudden spurts of gunfire in the halls.

----------

Harley laughed maniacally as she gunned down multiple soldiers, enjoying the way they were dropping to the floor. She needed to get out of there. She needed to find the others. After the last one dropped to the floor, she moved toward the door before hearing a piercing scream echo down the hallway.

“Sounds like someone’s having fun,” she ran her tongue against her teeth before skipping toward the scream. Slamming open the door, she raised the guns in her hand, ready to fire, until she saw you laying on the table surrounded by nurses.

“No one messes with Flag’s girl,” she muttered to herself before unloading the magazine in the room. All of the nurses slinked to the ground, covered in a pool of their own blood. Rushing over to you, Harley unstrapped the restraints and head piece before taking out the IV and looked for your clothes.

“Where the hell are ya clothes?” She asked, searching high and low before she found a bag filled with your bloody uniform. Helping you sit up, she noted the way you looked super frail but practically glowing at the same time.

“Harley,” you whispered out to her before passing out on her shoulder. “Awww, this would be really cute if not for the circumstances,” she stated out loud to herself, peering out of the window and seeing a guy in a helmet run across the street with Flag. Wait a minute, Flag! Running out the door, she ran around the corner before stopping in front of the two men.

“Hiya guys! What’s up?”

“We’re here to save you, is (Y/N) with you?” Rick asked with hope in his voice as Harley nodded, wrapping pale fingers around his wrist and dragging him back inside and through the pile of bodies she had claimed. At the sight of you, Rick ran to your side and hugged your limp body.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked, fighting the tears that were beginning to surface.

“Don’t worry puddin’, she’s just asleep,” shrugging her shoulders, she left the room as you stirred, fluttering your eyes open.

“Rick?” You questioned as he rapidly nodded his head, placing kisses all along your face.

“Thank God you’re ok. I thought I lost you.”

“Rick, the doctors found something,” memories of the conversation you had moments ago replayed in your brain. You’re pregnant.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, mind still not comprehending the fact that you were pregnant. After all, you had been infertile most of your life. Avoiding his gaze, you waited for his response.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to be a dad,” he whispered, causing your head to snap up and see a smile play against his face.

“You want this? I don’t know if it’ll carry to term. You know that I’m infertile.” Placing his lips against yours, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you as close as he could to his body. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed back before a throat clearing interrupted you.

“This is sweet and all, but we have a fucking monster to kill,” DuBois stated as you looked up at Rick who smiled.

“Stay here, I’ll come back and get you.”

“I’m not leaving your side,” you replied as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re pregnant. No way in living hell am I gonna allow you to do this. You’ll stay here and that’s an order,” you and he both hated when he had to pull his rank, but you realized it was necessary in cases like this.

“Just come back to me,” pulling his lips down against yours for what feels like the last time, you encoded this moment into your brain, remembering the way he tasted.

“For you? Always.”

----------

He should’ve known you were going to follow them into Jotunheim. Not only were you stubborn, but you still had that nagging feeling that something was going to happen. Sneaking past the military, you found a window and busted it open with your elbow before entering the building. Landing with a soft thud, you looked around the room and noticed Peacemaker going down a dark tunnel. Running after him, you made sure to stay hidden by the numerous pillars. Peering around the corner, you saw Ratcatcher standing next to Rick, however Peacemaker was pointing a gun at Rick.

“Nobody is saying what they did was right,” Peacemaker stated, hand unwavering.

“They experimented on children!” Rick yelled as more explosions went off in the distance.

“That information gets out and it causes an international incident. Keeping the peace is worth any price, including the life of a hero like yours, sir, so please. Don’t make me do this,” your stomach churned. You knew that Captain America wannabe was no good, and now your love might just pay the price. Suddenly, rocks collapsed all around you, obscuring your view of Rick and Peacemaker.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, picking up rocks and trying to make a hole for you to get your body through. Your efforts became faster the more you heard the two men grunting. After successfully digging a hole big enough for you, you crawled through as you heard something like porcelain shatter and choking.

“You mother fucker,” Rick stated through gritted teeth as you watched in slow motion, Peacemaker’s hand grasping a large shard.

“Rick!” You shouted out before tackling him off Christopher’s body, not getting out of the way soon enough as Peacemaker lodged the porcelain into your lower abdomen. “No!” Rick shouted as Peacemaker threw you off. In the distance somewhere, you heard a gun go off before hands wrapped around your body. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)?” Rick called to you but you couldn’t hear him, your mind venturing off.

----------

The sun lit your face through the blinds, dancing in your eyes and creating a multitude of hues, a warm body pressed against you.

“Morning sweetheart,” voice deep from slumber, Rick rubbed his eyes as he let out a yawn. Stretching in bed before your 5 year old daughter came running into the room.

“Mommy, daddy. It’s Christmas!” She squealed excitedly, waking up the baby that was next door.

“Yeah it is baby, you excited for your presents?” You asked as she rapidly nodded while Rick slid out of the bed.

“I’ll go grab little Digger,” he commented, kissing your forehead and your daughter’s head. Getting up, you went to grab a coffee before the doorbell rang. Moving to open it, you saw Harley’s painted face waiting for you with Nanaue, Cleo, Robert and Abner carrying presents.

“Merry Christmas dollface,” she exclaimed, pulling you in for a hug before running off to see her god daughter.

“Come in guys,” you motioned for them to enter as Rick rounded the corner, your 10 month old in his arms.

“So this is the little guy, huh?” Cleo asked as Sebastian waved a hand at the newborn, earning giggles from the baby.

“Yep, Digger Anthony Flag, meet your family,” Rick lifted up the baby’s arm, making him wave to everyone.

“I’m proud of you guys,” Robert commented, slapping a hand on Rick’s back as everyone shuffled into the living room, Nanaue taking up most of the space.

“Thanks man, it wouldn't have happened without you.”

“Alright, everyone ready for presents?” You asked the room with Harley by your side, Harleen in her arms. Rick placed Digger in Cleo’s arms before walking up to you and bringing you into his side.

“I love you, Mrs. Flag.”

“And I you, Mr. Flag.”

----------

Groaning, you felt an excruciating pain in your abdomen and a feeling of loss?

“(Y/N), baby, you’re awake,” his tired voice resonated in your ear as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his hand not leaving yours.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you commented as he sniffled, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to escape.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he noted, petting your hair and placing another kiss on your forehead.

“And leave our kid without a father? I don’t think...”, realization dawned on you at that moment. The sudden feeling of loss and the pain in that general area washed over you as you began crying. “Oh God, the baby is gone, isn’t it?” You asked through tears as he let a couple slip down his face, nodding and trying to smile through the pain. Choking back a sob, you turned your face away from him as tears continued to fall.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. Shaking your head, you refused to meet his hazel eyes, “(Y/N), look at me.” Turning your head, your eyes locked onto his as he continued to smooth down your hair.

“We’re alive. We’re both alive. That’s all that matters,” he replied, crawling into the hospital bed with you and pulling you against his chest as you cried into his shirt.

“What if I never get pregnant again?”

“We will. I’ll make sure of it. I’m done with the fucking task force. Waller can find someone else to puppet. But I’m done. You’re done. We’re gonna get married and have a nice house. I’ll get a new job and we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Kissing the top of your head, he wrapped his arms around you as you calmed down.

“I love you,” you whispered against his chest as he hugged you closer.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Author’s Note: Well this was way longer than I intended it to be. But hope you enjoy!!

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ellitx · 3 years

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helpppppp i read that scenario of reader sleeping over, and I couldn’t help but imagine that they all share the same room when that is. Also what do you think the twins would do to get readers attention over the other?

Im gonna set this back when you’re in the middle school or something.

masterlist

fluff

word count: 1.6k

You and the twins are already comfortable with laying on each other’s bed whenever you/they visit. Your mother, Amos, even brings snacks to your room for them to eat and she always gets excited whenever they come to your house.

She’s even the one who insisted if you wanna invite them for a sleepover! Your father, Decarabian, always disapproves whenever you ask him if you can sleep at the twin’s house. (Also because uncle Andrius is there and he doesn't want you to get close to him)

Himmel and Venti were having friendly bickering and thinking over what gift they should give to your mother as thanks for welcoming them in. Amos accepts anything! She really appreciates they’ve put an effort to do it but later on, feels guilty and that they didn’t have to do it.

Speaking of gifts, your birthday is almost coming. Himmel and Venti thought at the same time. And while Aunt Amos is here...

You already know that they also have the same idea to ask your mother what you would like to have as a gift but have different methods to approach her.

It was Himmel who first asked aunt Amos about it. Well... not really her but someone else. It was after dinner and he decided to help her out and the maids in cleaning the dishes. He was really nervous and shy to ask her. Is it really alright if he questions aunt Amos what are your favorites? Will she get disappointed that he doesn’t know what your likes and dislikes are for the entire years he grew up with you?

Himmel sighed and continues to wipe the dishes with a dry cloth and puts them inside their respective racks.

“Master Himmel is everything alright?” A maid suddenly asked in concern, surprising him.

“We can handle everything here. If you’re getting tired, we’ve already prepared and tidied the room as what the Young Mistress has ordered.” She continued. The boy blinked before shaking his head and giving a soft smile to her way.

“Oh please don’t worry about me! I’m just thinking about something.” His attention was back on the ceramic plate and he carefully does dry it.

“Is it perhaps the Young Mistress’s birthday is coming soon?”

Himmel almost dropped the plate if it were not for him to quickly regain his balance and tightly hold on to it for dear life. He looked at the maid in utter shock, his face was scribbled with bafflement and embarrassment as he owlishly blinked at her.

Was he really that obvious the maid managed to point out his current problems right on spot? Well, It’s better to talk to her about this right? She knows you more than him after all.

Himmel nodded and set his gaze on the plate, mirroring his appearance.

“What do you think [Name] would like to receive as a gift?” He muttered under his breath as heat began to crawl up to his face up to the tip of his ears.

“Young Mistress’s favorite?” The maid echoed. She then placed her gloved hands to her chin, deep in thought.

“I’m sure she’d love anything as long as it’s from you. It’s the thought that counts, is it not?” She said before turning off the faucet to avoid wasting water.

Himmel was quiet for a minute.

Anything, huh?

—

Venti would directly ask Aunt Amos what gift you would like when she was preparing night snacks for the three of you. The younger twin snuck out of the room and left you and Himmel alone to play some video games.

As much as he’d hate not being included there and missing out on the fun, the most important matter right now is the gift you’ll get for your day of birth!

“Aunt Amos! Aunt Amos!” Venti cried and slammed the door open to where the kitchen is. The said woman shrieked at the sudden intrusion and looked over her shoulder to see the culprit behind her almost heart attack.

“Venti... goodness you gave me a fright there.” Amos chuckled and continued to prep up an iced tea.

“Aunt Amos, I wanna ask you something!” He said and leaned over the counter to take a peek at what she’s doing.

She stopped whatever she’s doing and wiped her hands with her apron before setting her focus on the short male.

“What is it?”

Venti walked back and cleared his throat behind his fist as if he were going to make a speech.

“A man is sitting in a pub feeling rather poor. He sees the gentleman next to him pull a bag of 100 Mora out of his pocket.

He turns to the rich man and says to him,

'I have an amazing talent; I know almost every song that has ever existed.'

The rich man laughs.

The poor man says, 'I am willing to bet you all the money you have in your wallet that I can sing a genuine song with a lady's name of your choice in it.'

The rich man laughs again and says, 'OK, how about my daughter's name, [Name]?'

The rich man goes home poor. The poor man goes home rich.

What song did he sing?”

Venti ended his riddle with a smile at the woman. Amos seemed to be contemplating his question very well and it’s not often she gets to participate in his brain-teasers. So this is very much a surprise for her.

Well, enough about that, she has to answer this quickly and she doesn’t want to make him wait for her longer. Going back to his riddle, was the rich man supposed to be her husband? Venti did mention your name when the poor man asked the rich man.

A song that has your name...

“Is it Happy Birthday?” She answered.

“Bing bong!” Venti’s fingers were formed to an okay sign and gave her a big grin.

“Knowing the answer is Happy Birthday, I suppose you’re also going to ask me about [Name]’s gift, am I correct?”

Venti let out a hearty laugh and winked at her. “Correct once again, Miss Amos!”

“Sooo...” He held on to the chair’s backrest and gave her the best puppy eyes he could muster to get another answer from her.

“Please please please please tell me what [Name] would like— no, LOVE to get on her birthday!!” He begged and clasped his hands together as if he was praying to a god.

“Now, now, isn’t that cheating? Your brother never asked me about this so isn’t it fair for you if you guess as well?” She remarked as she arranged the brownies on the plates.

“Wait— Himmel didn’t ask you?!”

Oh, how foolish he was to think the older twin actually asked your mother. Was he thinking too much when Himmel helped her out in cleaning the table? Perhaps yes, perhaps not. Or maybe Aunt Amos is hiding something that even she cannot tell the hidden secret to him?

“Well, I suppose I can give you a hint on what it is.” Amos motioned for him to come closer in which Venti quickly obeyed. Venti took note of all the words left from her lips in his head and is beginning to plan out events on the next days before your birthday.

His smile was brighter than the sun in this nightly hour and his eyes sparkled in excitement and joy. Even though her hint lacks information and clues he could deduct, he at least speculated it must be that item!

“Thank you, Miss Amos! That’s already a good hint for me! Now if you excuse me, I suppose we can eat this already...?” He sheepishly asked as he looked on the tray placed with a pile of brownies on a plate, a pitcher of iced tea, and three tall fragile glasses.

“I was about to ask you if you can bring it to the room. Be careful not to trip on your way!” The young male bobbed his head and picked up the tray with his two hands.

“Will do! And thank you for the snacks again!” And then off he goes, his slippers slapping against the tiled floor to make his way back to the shared room.

Amos watched his form disappear before her eyes flicked to the doorframe. A small smile appeared on her lips and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You can come out now, dear.” She said. A good minute of silence was only present in the kitchen before a tall man stepped out of the darkness, sighing heavily as he threw her a look of disappointment.

“Did that little rascal really have to use me in his riddles?” He groaned before taking a look over the leftover pieces of brownies.

“What? It’s kind of amusing and smart to do it. I’ll give him kudos for that.” Amos opened her lips and popped in small bits of the dessert in her mouth to take a taste of it.

“Hmph,” Decarabian huffed as he poured a drink to the glass.

“And let me guess that Himmel also asked you about [Name]’s birthday?” He almost spat out his drink when his wife mentioned the name of your friend. It would be a waste if he did that and he doesn’t like to cause a mess in this area already.

“I told you he’s a good kid. You just have to get rid of that frown of yours and your authoritative aura. Himmel’s always doing his best and now he even had the courage to approach and ask you.”

Decarabian could only stand still and remain silent as he sipped his drink.

—

ive written a shared room scenario before and this is set on college au. Do take note this has nsfw content in it

#anon ask #ellianswers #venti x reader #himmel x reader #genshin impact x reader #elliwrites #venti fluff

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fortune-fool02 · 3 years

Text

Reassurance

Matsuda Touta x female reader

This is a tester to see if I can write for him and how well I do so. Any and all feedback is appreciated. Thank you.

Warning: Light angst, fluff

Please enjoy.

Everyone on the Task Force knew that by taking part in the investigation was putting their lives on the line facing against Kira. All it took was their names and faces, that was all Kira needed to claim their lives as he had done so many countless others before them. As requested by L, everyone on the force had been given fake names for their own safety and were restricted from saying anything about their case to their families or friends.

Matsuda leaned his head back, blinking a few times to force the tiredness from his eyes and regain focus before turning back to the pile of reports laid before him. It was not something vitally important but he wanted to help in whatever way he could. Late nights were not uncommon since he was a police officer beforehand so the late hour was not of concern to him. He had already sent a text message to [Name] a few hours ago about staying at work late and he left it at that, after adding a small little end of love, hugs and kisses.

Soft footsteps approached his table, tapping lightly against the flooring. “Is everything okay over here, Matsuda?” Light questioned, hinting at the pile of reports beside him.

“Hm? Oh yeah, everything’s good. I’m actually almost done.” He responded with a somewhat tired smile on his face. “I just needed to finish this pile and then I’m done.” He motioned to the smaller pile beside him, showing that he had worked quite hard to get through them all before the end of the day. Light gave a small smile,

“That’s good.” His eyes noticed something on the floor beside Matsuda’s chair. “What’s that?” Matsuda’s eyes followed Light’s to see a small locket on the floor.

“Oh! I can’t believe I didn’t notice that. Thanks Light.” Scooping the small item up quickly, Matsuda checked over it, making sure it was not damaged. Much to his relief, it wasn’t. “This is my girlfriend, [Name].” he answered, showing the photograph of a [Hair colour] woman standing beside him, both of them smiling brightly at the camera. Even looking at it, Light saw a glow in Matsuda’s eyes at how he gazed at it like it was the most valuable piece of treasure to the known world.

“She looks nice.” He added, looking at the photograph a little longer before Matsuda closed the locket and tucked it safely inside his inside pocket of his blazer. “How did you two meet?” Light asked, curiosity on his tone.

“Well, we met in high school and used to hang out after class. We also-” The ringing of Matsuda’s phone cut him off, surprising both males at who could be calling at this time of the night. Picking it up, Matsuda answered. “Um, hello?”

“Hello, am I speaking to a Mr Taro Matsui?” A man questioned, Matsuda immediately moved his phone lightly and set it on speaker, just in case it was something important for Light to hear that could aid the case.

“Yes, I am. What is it?” Light listened carefully.

“It is about your partner, Miss [Name] [Surname].” The man spoke, sending a sharp shard of concern piercing through the dark haired man, “There was an accident in the park area close to the Yotsuba main office. Miss [Surname] was in a car accident and was hit by a car. She is in hospital now.”

Coffee brown eyes stared into nothing ahead of him, the hand holding the phone shaking as the news sunk its fangs into his mind. [Name].... his [Name]...in hospital....

Light didn’t even get to speak a word before Matsuda was off, sprinting towards the doors. One thing was on his mind. The Kira case forgotten, all that mattered was him getting to [Name]. Panic set steel into his veins, flashes of white fear burrowing further into his muscles and mind, throwing and spewing all sorts of horrible scenarios in his mind. Everything around him was nothing but a blur of colour, shadows and muffled sound.

Once he got to the front desk, nothing but a panicked mess, he begged to see [Name] to which the lady told him the directions to her room, saying he could see her. Shifting from the darkness of outside to the sudden intense bright lights of the hospital corridors and halls was a strain for his eyes but he kept moving. He had to. He had to be there for her.

He finally reached her room, his lungs burning as his legs did, pushed beyond their limits to get him to her side again. Heavy panting as he tried to regain his breath as he stumbled into her room, almost tripping. “[Name]! [Na-!” He stopped when he finally saw her. Laying on the bed, one of her leg’s in a cast and held up a little with some bandages on her and a few IV drops on the side. Her [Eye colour] eyes still holding that same spark and glow of life they always did. Her lips still holding that sweet smile that had stolen his heart from the moment he first laid eyes on her. She was alright.

“Hey Matsui.” She spoke softly, keeping to his false name just for safety precautions. He shut the door and quickly skidded to her side, wanting to hold her but also very wary of the wires and tubes and everything else. [Name] chuckled softly and gently held his hand. “It’s okay. It is just my leg and some bruises. I am fine, Touta.” Her words held such certainty, such calmness despite her condition.

Tears trickled from his eyes as he leaned down and hugged her, “I-I was so worried! I got the call and-and-” his words stumbled and failed, emotion rushing through his body with the draining adrenaline. His legs gave out a little and he grabbed the closest chair, dragging it over and sitting beside her. Never once letting go of her hand.

“I’m okay, Touta. It was just an accident. The doctors said there was no internal damage or anything.” Her other hand moved and gently caressed his cheek, wiping away the tears before pressing a loving kiss on his lips. Matsuda couldn’t help but smile as the tears still fell, more out of relief and joy than sorrow and despair. She was alright. [Name] was okay.

That was all that mattered to him.

#matsuda #matsuda touta #death note #matsuda x reader #matsuda touta x reader #death note x reader

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hale-13 · 3 years

Text

Zero Days Without Incident

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 20 Prompt - Defiance

The ‘Days Without Incident’ sign in Tony Stark’s private workshop has nothing to do with engineering or science mishaps and all to do with a bet between him and a certain Spiderling.

Words: 1783, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan

TW: Stabbing

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Peter you have thirty minutes until your curfew,” Karen warned him, already plotting a course home and throwing it up on his HUD.

It was a balmy spring evening and Peter had spent most of his patrol leisurely swinging through Queens or relaxing on a hammock made from his webs. There had been a few petty crimes he had dealt with, some grand theft bicycle, a cat stuck in a tree but, all in all, he couldn’t really complain. He loved being Spider-Man and helping his neighborhood but it was nice to have a slow day sometimes.

A scream sounded in the distance.

“Spoke too soon,” he mumbled, altering his course and picking up speed. “Can you get me directions K?”

“Of course Peter,” Karen answered, as chirpy and happy as normal, re-routing him away from his apartment and toward the sounds of discourse in the distance. When he dropped in on the scene it seemed to be a mugging in progress and Peter rolled his eyes – didn’t people have anything better to do on a random Tuesday in April? God just seriously rethink your life choices.

“I would say its knife to meet you but I’ve definitely used that pun in the last couple weeks and I don’t want to be accused of not being original,” Peter called down, making both the assailant and victim flinch and look up to where he was perched on the wall above them. “Where did even get that thing? The renaissance fair? Who robs people with a full on dagger anyway? Run out of kitchen knives?” Peter quipped, flipping down and pushing the mugger away with a well placed kick to the arm that made the man stumble back.

“This has nothing to do with you bug,” the man snarled, brandishing the weapon at Peter now and making him roll his eyes. “Don’t get in my way and I won’t have to use this on ya.”

“Spiders are arachnids actually, not bugs” Peter pointed out, shooing the stunned woman out of the alley and on her way out of any potential danger. “And how about you not stab anybody today huh? If you promise to behave I won’t web you to the wall and call the police. Sounds like a fair trade right?”

The man snarled at him with irritation. “You talk too much.”

“So I’ve been told,” Peter agreed easily with a nod. “But what do you say? Ready to give up your life of crime for the straight and narrow?”

“No,” the man grumbled and, with literally no warning, lunged forward and stabbed his knife directly into Peter’s gut.

They both stared at each other in stunned silence before Peter processed the pain with a loud ‘fuck!’.

“You motherfucker,” Peter grunted, backing away to lean against the wall, holding the knife still with one hand so as to not dislodge it. “I can’t believe you stabbed me!”

“I thought you would dodge! You always dodge!” The man said, reaching up both hands to dig into his hair. “I stabbed Spider-Man what the fuck!”

“God this is just-,” Peter grumbled using his free arm to fire webbing at the guy and secure him to the nearby dumpster. “I’ve gone three weeks without having to go to the MedBay! Three weeks! All I had to do was last one more and then I got to pick the movie at movie night for the next month! God I can’t believe it! Mr. Stark is going to be so insufferable now!”

“You could just… not tell him?” The man asked hopefully, not even bothering to struggle against the webs and Peter blew out a breath as he sank down to sit on the gritty ground – he was starting to feel a little cold and dizzy from either the blood loss or shock, he couldn’t tell which. Not that it mattered, his fierce anger overshadowed everything.

“Not an option,” Peter grunted, leaning his head back and closing his eyes against the helpful countdown timer Karen had started displaying the second Tony had entered the Iron Man armor and started jetting to him. “He already knows.” Curse the Baby-monitor Protocol! He and Ned would need to remove it again…

“He track you or something?” The man asked questioningly, head quirked to the side in obvious curiosity.

“Or something,” Peter agreed.

“That’s wack man,” he said. “An invasion of privacy. A, uh… violation of your constitutional rights as a free American!”

“Do you honestly think Tony Stark cares about an something as simple as an invasion of privacy? I’m lucky he hasn’t microchipped me yet,” Peter pointed out. Or, at least, he didn’t think Tony had microchipped him. He’d have to check that and remove it post haste if he found something.

“Dude,” knife guy said commiserating and Peter had to fight the eye roll. Of course the person who stabbed him felt remorseful now.

“I know,” Peter agreed, peering down at his side to look at where the knife was embedded into him. He was pretty good around blood as long as it wasn’t his own and, looking at the way his suit was slick and blood was beginning to pool under his thighs in a puddle made Peter lightheaded so he closed his eyes again. “He’s probably going to be pretty pissed at you by the way,” Peter warned. “He has pretty good lawyers so I wouldn’t have high hopes of getting out of this without jail time.”

The man groaned and Peter just shrugged. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time and all that – also don’t stab people and leave them to the ministrations of their helicopter mentors. Same thing really. The sound of repulsers neared and Peter braced himself – he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with this.

“I guess that we can change the ‘Days Without Incident’ sign back to zero eh Spiderling?” Tony teased as he landed in the mouth of the alley, disengaging his suit and walking over to kneel next to Peter. “You were doing so good too – your longest streak ever in fact.”

“Don’t remind me,” Peter hissed as Tony prodded around the wound carefully with a pre-gloved hand. “Can you not touch that?”

“No can do buddy,” Tony said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “Gotta anchor it in so it doesn’t fall out on the ride back. Happy’s on his way to pick us up.”

“Oh great,” Peter groused, letting Tony lean him forward a little so he could start wrapping roll gauze around the knife. “He loves to complain when I get blood on the seats.”

“Only when you get impaled,” Tony said brightly, pulling the gauze tight almost vindictively and making Peter wince. “Wouldn’t want to deprive him now would we?”

“You could just let me bleed out and die here,” Peter suggested seriously. “Since my life is basically over now anyway.

“You’re such a dramatic little shit,” Tony groused, tying off the gauze and levering Peter up off the ground to slump into his side for the extra support. “Now say ‘goodbye’ to your friend, he won’t be seeing the real world for a long, long time,” Tony’s voice had an edge of steel as he said this, dragging Peter to the end of the alley and ignoring the muggers ‘Aw man, c’mon!” as they passed. Peter just shrugged a ‘what can you do?” and wiggled his fingers in a facsimile of a wave as he was pulled away.

Happy, to his credit, was efficient and must have already been in the area because he was quick to pull up with a surly look already cemented onto his face as he surveyed where Peter was leaning into Tony and dribbling blood onto the sidewalk in large, heavy droplets. “I already called the cleaning crew,” he told them through the open window. “They’ll be here before the police to scrub up any possible radioactive DNA.”

“Best forehead of security ever,” Tony crooned lovingly as he carefully situated Peter onto the pile of towels Happy had put into the backseat to soak up the blood and keep it off his leather seats. Happy glared at the both of them in the rearview mirror before rolling up the partition. Tony snorted in undisguised mirth.

“How you feeling kiddie?” He asked as he peeled Peter’s mask from his sweaty face. “Not going to pass out on me again right?”

“Uh…” Peter groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight to stop the spinning and grey dots that were clouding his vision. “No promises. Sorry.” Tony just let out a put upon sigh like he expected as much and pushed Peter to lay down across the seats, grabbing one of the extra towels to press tightly around the knife and making Peter let out a whining moan at the pressure. “Yeah I might pass out,” he said faintly as his vision started to tunnel.

“Go on then,” Tony said, running a hand through Peter’s damp curls and smoothing them away from his face. “At least you don’t sass me when you’re unconscious.” Peter felt the man lift his legs to slid a few wadded up towels underneath… like that would actually help keep him awake.

“Rude,” Peter grumbled before losing his grip on reality – he trusted Tony to take care of things for now.

——————————————

“I hate this movie,” Peter grumbled groggily, as he pulled himself awake some time later. He was lying in one of the beds in the MedBay, attached to a blood transfusion and with a thick padding of gauze on his abdomen. Tony, seated next to him and munching on popcorn, just sent him a shit eating grin and held up the whiteboard that had been hanging in his workshop displaying ‘Days Without Incident’ with a large 0 written under it in obnoxious red ink.

“This is such bullshit,” Peter said petulantly, picking at the tape holding the IV in place. “I can’t escape! Go watch your garbage movie somewhere else.”

“Excuse me you brat,” Tony said imperiously. “The Breakfast Club is a cult classic thank you very much and besides,” he continued, offering Peter the bowl of popcorn, “someone clearly has to educate you on good movies.”

“I’m going back to sleep,” Peter said, flicking a kernel of popcorn playfully at his mentor (and missing damn – he must be on drugs) and letting his tired eyes slip closed again.

“Sore loser,” he heard Tony tease as he fell asleep and that did it. When he won their next bet they were marathoning the whole Star Wars series from beginning to end, including all of the Clone Wars and the Mandalorian, and he didn’t care what Mr. Stark said.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump20 #Prompt: Defiance #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

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if-you-built-yourself-a-myth · 3 years

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Check Ignition: Part IV

A Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV

Requests are open if you have any oneshot ideas or opinions on how this should continue!

In their bedroom that night, Jens had a whole roll of parchment full of ideas. Robbe fell asleep first on the common room couch after Hufflepuff’s party, and meandered to his room at three AM to find Jens awaiting him on the windowsill. Aaron, conked out, had pulled the curtains of his four-poster shut and cast a few silencing charms for privacy.

“Muffliato,” Robbe cast under his breath, just in case. Aaron wasn’t the greatest at Charms.

“I was supposed to patrol tonight,” Robbe told Jens. “Did Jana go alone?”

Jens nodded. “She said you would’ve lost her anyway, whatever that means.”

“You’re talking again?”

“Uh, yeah, of course. Okay, here, look at this…” Jens smacked down his parchment on the little floor space they had in their bedroom. Each little segment of dormitory housed four boys with their beds in a circle around the heater in the middle. While Jens, Robbe, and Aaron didn’t have a fourth shoved in with them, the fourth bed’s curtains were also closed. Robbe assumed it was Moyo staying over after the party. Their copious belongings covered most available surfaces: books piled up next to bedspreads, clothing strewn over trunks, candy wrappers overflowing from trash bins.

“I think you have to dial it up,” Jens explained. He flattened the parchment until Robbe could kind of read his sloping cursive. The title at the top of the page was scribbled out, replaced with the words Operation Ditch-Noor. “Noor seems more persistent.”

Robbe thought back on their conversation. It made his head hurt to think. “She’s done.”

“Didn’t seem it today. How much did you drink?”

“I can read it,” said Robbe. He, in fact, could not read it. Why did Jens have to write everything in cursive?

The party itself had gone by pretty smoothly, from what he could piece together at the moment. Sander turned on music from his player, an upbeat song called Rebel Rebel, and had everyone spinning in circles on the common room carpet. Robbe didn’t remember kissing Sander at all. He remembered taking a cupful of punch from Aaron and not asking about its alcohol content. The girls left early to go console Zoë on the loss, and he’d woken up with a blanket that he didn’t have when he fell asleep.

Actually, that was a pretty solid outline considering the circumstances. Good on Robbe.

Jens gave Robbe a minute to puzzle through the spirals on the parchment. If he looked at it sideways, it might be a picture of a big black dog.

“Thoughts?” said Jens. He bumped Robbe’s shoulder with his own. Robbe looked around. When did they sit on the floor?

“Good,” he said.

“Good. It was a major oversight on your part, not having a public date in the first week. You’re going to have to compensate now.”

“What?”

Jens sighed. “Like, you have to be twice as convincing. Why am I even friends with you?”

“You’re so smart,” Robbe agreed.

“Is that Robbe?” said the fourth bed. It didn’t sound like Moyo. Moyo’s drunk voice was always deeper than his normal one, full of false bravado, while this one was much lighter. Sure enough, Sander peeked his head out from the curtains. His hair stuck up in all different directions.

Jens got up from the ground and smacked Sander’s arm as Sander tried to reach for Robbe. “You don’t have to trick us. Jeez.” He addressed Robbe again. “He’s been like this all night.”

Sander ignored him. “Come over here,” he said to Robbe. “I haven’t seen you.”

“You saw me,” Robbe said.

“Not a lot.”

“Yeah, so this is the kind of material we need.” Jens pointed at the parchment roll. “Noor’s going to leave you alone.”

“Come here, Robbe.”

Robbe sobered—while Sander didn’t exactly sound serious, there was something more in the way he said those words. What, Robbe couldn’t be sure. He was probably projecting, making the whole thing up.

Sander’s clothing was rumpled, a stain on the collar of his shirt. There were circles around his eyes as if he’d been rubbing them. His perfect hand was just begging to be held—the vision began to blur a little bit on the edges, and Robbe had to blink a few times to make the picture clear again.

This wasn’t real. He was drunk and it wasn’t real. Robbe was hallucinating or something, that’s what it was.

And he didn’t want to sleep with Sander, at least, not yet.

“I am going to be physically ill,” said Jens. “Save this.”

They left the parchment on the floor. Jens climbed into his bed, Robbe into his. Sander left the curtains open on bed four, staring over at where Robbe lay, so Robbe left his own curtains open. Gotta have that line of sight. He knew Sander was drunk as a skunk, but goodness, it felt wonderful to have his attention.

“Goodnight, love,” he called over.

Jens covered his head with a his pillow. "Kill me."

***

Sander was gone when Robbe got up the next day, and just as well, because it was one PM. Robbe’s head hurt like a motherfucker. Good news, though: he could now read the parchment Jens had tacked to the door of their dormitory. Not without pain, but without much struggle. In the bottom left-hand corner, an artsy signature marked that Sander understood the objectives. Sander Driesen. He dotted the i in his last name with a little circle instead of a plain dot.

Robbe speed-read the document to the best of his ability. And panicked. If Sander was following this, they had plans at five today.

He gathered his things and dashed to the shower, careful not to wake up anyone else who might still be sleeping. Aaron seemed to have gone out; his bed was empty. Jens wasn’t visible, and Robbe didn’t think it right to open the bedcurtains to see if he was there. The shower water was freezing cold. Robbe did a little warming spell he thought he remembered and ended up evaporating it all.

He took a very cold shower.

When that was done, he changed into a collared shirt with a sweater overtop and a pair of khaki pants. Casual date outfit, check. Fake date. Couldn’t forget that. He appraised his reflection in the mirror for too long to be considered normal.

There was plenty to do in the span between now and five o’clock—exams were three weeks away and Robbe didn’t know the main ingredients of Amortentia. But he couldn’t bring himself to open the books. It made much more sense to pace around the room.

Of course they’d go on a date. Real relationships would have dates.

And Sander—last night—it was nothing.

Robbe spent a lot of his mental energy convincing himself that things didn’t matter. He spent a little more trying to forget this revelation.

Four forty-five arrived before he could list out all the possible ways a date could go wrong.

The castle was always louder on Saturday afternoons and evenings. With the morning’s hangover remedied, students were free to gossip as they pleased. As Robbe headed down the stairs to the dungeons, where Jens’ note detailed he would meet Sander, he heard no less than four separate conversations that should have been private. Two Gryffindors were having a Wrackspurt problem in their dormitory. Several Slytherins discussed a magical cure for gonorrhea that would not alert Madame Pomfrey to their situation. Yasmina and Zoë attended extra Potions sessions together, and Robbe heard them debating the proper way to skin a human arm for use. Most of interest: Britt and another girl in the final hallway.

“Sander doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Britt lamented. “I don’t think he’s been going to the hospital wing.”

“You don’t know that,” the girl replied, resting a comforting hand on Britt’s back.

Robbe tried to shrink back on himself as he walked by.

Britt wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “And I’m the one that’s gonna be there when it goes to shit.”

Give it up, thought Robbe. He booked it the rest of the way to the Slytherin common room’s entrance.

Sander was waiting beside the door, his back against the stonework. His look today was different than Robbe had ever seen it, a leather jacket and a t-shirt paired with tight black jeans. When he raised a hand to wave at Robbe, the shirt rode up enough to expose a line of pale skin. Robbe felt overdressed in his sweater. Sander shouldn’t think he was taking this too seriously.

“Where are we headed?” Sander asked, as soon as Robbe was within asking range.

Robbe’s eyes went wide. “I thought you were planning it.”

“I've been hungover.” Sander pushed away from the wall. He slipped his hand into Robbe’s, and they headed for the staircase that led out of the dungeons. Usually, only Slytherins used it. “I'm good with whatever. For Britt, obviously. Somewhere she'll see."

The staircase spit them out into the upstairs hallway. Sander brought them outside through the front doors and down into the sprawling lawn. He stopped once his feet hit the grass, and turned to Robbe. “Dealer’s choice.”

“Did Jens give instructions?”

“Jens doesn’t dictate your dating life.”

Robbe frowned. “My fake dating life.”

He hated Sander’s pained expression. “Yeah, exactly.”

Only one way to make Sander smile again, and that was to go somewhere nice. Robbe surveyed the campus. They couldn’t go to Hogsmede today unless they snuck there, and Sander wasn’t in subtle attire. There was the forest, all of those beautiful, towering trees, but there was a fifty percent chance of death if they got too close. The Whomping Willow ruled out a good chunk of grassy lawn. He knew their only option would be to sit by the lake.

Lots of couples sat by the lake. Any fake relationship should feature a date there. It got foot traffic, it was public, it screamed to the world hey, we’re together.

Robbe didn’t bring a blanket. What if he got cold?

What if Sander got cold?

The thought alone of Sander cuddled into his side was enough to drive Robbe to action. He wondered what that said about him as a person.

“The lake,” said Robbe. “We can—um—we can be there.”

“You have something to sit on?”

“Uh…”

“Yeah, I counted on it.” Sander reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny square of fabric. With a wave of his wand, it grew into a full-sized picnic blanket in his arms. “Show me where you want to be.”

***

The early evening air, combined with the chill off the lake, had Robbe shivering in no time. He should have brought his coat out with him, but it wasn’t in the best shape, and he worried that mending spells could only keep it alive for so much longer. Best to save it for winter, when things got bad. Sander, on the other hand, had no problem removing his own jacket and sliding it around Robbe’s shoulders. He wrapped one bare arm around Robbe, sliding his hand into Robbe’s back pocket.

“This is nice,” he said.

“Cold,” said Robbe.

“I’ll tell Jens to plan the next one. He seems to like us as a couple.”

Something in Robbe’s stomach fluttered. The possibility of more intoxicated him. He caught himself before the desire became too strong; there had to be more. No convincing fake relationship was just one date.

Dusk crept in along the sky. Many of the other couples gathered their things to attend a Great Hall dinner, the likes of which Robbe had not consumed all week. He willed his stomach not to growl. Their blanket was close enough to the lake that casual waves poked at its edges.

“That’s your friend, isn’t it?” said Sander, pointing toward the castle’s open doors.

Robbe looked over. Zoë and Senne made their way across the lawn with their own picnic blanket and a lumpy knapsack. Behind them was Milan, Zoë’s best friend and Senne’s suitemate. Zoë smiled when she saw Robbe and jogged the remainder of the distance between them, dropping to the grass an inch away from Sander’s blanket.

“Look at you!” She pinched Robbe’s cheek. “Date night, I take it?”

Robbe tried not to look sheepish. “Jens said we should.”

“Mmhm,” said Zoë. She turned her attention to Sander. “Tell me the love story. I need to know.”

“Oh, it’s a great story. Settle in.” Sander adjusted his position. He scooted away from Robbe, then gently tipped backward until his head rested on Robbe’s lap. “Picture this. My ex brought her best friend on one of our dates because she was mad at me. We went to the Three Broomsticks.”

Robbe remembered the Three Broomsticks. Obviously. His cheeks heated. He began twisting sections of Sander’s hair around his fingers, if only to do something with his hands. He knew Zoë just wanted to hear what Sander could think up on the fly.

“Her best friend had a date, too. No problem. I was going to spend the time staring at the wall so I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Except, the date walked in, and it was Robbe here, and I just lost it. I saw him sitting there and I thought, Sander, he is the one.”

Now Robbe was really blushing. He wanted to go vaporous and phase through the ground, if he could just remember the spell…

“I thought I was being dramatic, that I needed to give it some time. But I couldn’t get him off my mind. So I broke up with Britt. She used to complain that he spent all his time up in the astronomy tower instead of patrolling. You bet your ass I went there one night to see if he’d come up. And he did.” Sander shrugged. “The rest is history.” He propped himself up and caught Robbe in a chaste kiss.

“Yeah, you can cut the bullshit.” Zoë turned to check Senne’s progress toward them. He was still a decent distance away. “Robbe told me about this.”

Sander huffed. “I said nothing that wasn’t true.” He kissed Robbe again.

“Yeah, pretty sure none of that was true. But I like the backstory. It’s really good.”

“I think I could make it as a writer,” said Sander.

Robbe assumed the conversation would end there. Zoë and Sander did not seem like the types of people who would have much to say to one another. Unfortunately, Zoë’s prying conversation gave Milan time to catch up.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, upon seeing Sander and Robbe together. He got in close to Zoë for a stage whisper. “So this is Robbe's straight guy!” Zoë shot him a look. “What? is he not straight?”

Sander did not miss a beat, even though a statement like that implied Milan knew the truth of the arrangement. “Bisexual, actually. Or pansexual—I’m still trying to figure that part out.”

“Aren’t we all,” said Milan knowingly. “Don’t fall for Robbe, then.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sander laughed. It sounded more resigned than joking. Something inside of Robbe combusted.

Milan and Senne went off and picked a spot a respectable distance away to study for their exams. Robbe noted in passing that Milan was reading pages much deeper in the Potions textbook than he had learned. He hadn’t been to a class since he started fake-dating Sander.

Zoë flashed an apologetic smile. “I didn’t tell him you were straight. Don’t know where he got that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Sander.

“And I didn’t mean to tell him the relationship was fake either, he was just so excited—”

“As long as it doesn’t get to Britt or Noor, we’re fine.”

“Robbe, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Robbe lied.

There were pleasantries afterward, although Robbe didn’t catch the specifics. He had other things to process. Sander talking about how they met—it all felt so real. Robbe found himself in a booth at the Three Broomsticks again, watching Sander take slow sips from his drink. He was in his four-poster bed while Sander slept, the curtains open so they could see each other in the dark.

He stepped on the emotion. Sander said he wouldn’t dream of falling in love with him.

Zoë went off to sit with her best friend and boyfriend, leaving space for Robbe and Sander’s date to begin. Where to begin? Number one: Sander would never fall in love with him because this was all fake. In tandem with Noor’s premonition last night, Robbe suddenly felt like he’d much rather be back inside the castle. In his bed. With the curtains pulled this time.

A headache could get him out of here. An urgent need to throw up? Maybe a mysterious summons from Jens. He needed to remember the charm that let him disappear.

Number two, back to Sander. He had wrapped his arms around his head, exposing that same patch of stomach. A line of black ink that might be a word traced the line of his hipbone down.

“Robbe?” Sander waved a hand in front of Robbe’s face.

Robbe blinked. “Huh?”

“Have you been hearing me?”

“Um,” said Robbe.

“You’re pulling my hair.”

Robbe moved his hands away. His mind was a mess of different thoughts—what would he tell the boys about this? It wasn’t fucking real. And Sander’s head was in his lap right now. He should have seen this coming before… no, he had seen this coming.

“Don’t stop,” said Sander softly. “Just… lighter.”

Robbe ran his hand through Sander’s hair. Lighter. A confession dangled on the tip of his tongue and he needed to push it back down.

“Some of what you said was true,” he said. He hoped Sander could draw the connection across conversations and realize he meant what Sander had said to Zoë, not Milan.

Sander understood. “Most of it was true.”

They waited a moment, listening to the soft waves on the lake and the bustle of other couples nearby.

“Right,” said Sander. “You’ve taken me on a date. The least you can do is tell me something nice.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Do you need Jens to write your speeches too?”

Robbe shied away from the vulnerability angle this time. Sander wouldn’t have any use for the information four weeks from now when exams were over. He marveled over how soft Sander’s hair was between his fingers, despite the fact that the ends were dry and dead from the bleach. “My father was the cook of the family,” he said. Something personal, but not intimate. “He had this recipe for blood sausage that had so many spices my mother could never stomach it. We would bring it to dinner parties when we didn’t like the people. It was funny to watch them try and compliment it during the meal when they clearly hated every last bite.” This was the story’s happier conclusion. Its actual conclusion was that his father took all the recipe cards when he walked out, and Robbe didn’t know the ingredients even though his father promised he’d get them when he turned sixteen.

“Tell me something nice.” He poked Sander.

“I don’t know if what you said constitutes nice,” said Sander. He reached up and ran a finger across Robbe’s chin. But he went on. “There’s this lady where I work over the summer that brings me David Bowie albums. She gets so excited every time she finds a new one in a garage sale somewhere, or at store, and I can’t tell her that I already own the albums already. I have five copies of Space Oddity.”

Robbe didn’t know who David Bowie was.

Another lapse into silence. Sander never seemed to mind a comfortable quiet. He guided Robbe’s head down to his for a simple kiss, but he left his eyes open, and Robbe could follow his sightline to Noor and Britt as they walked back to the castle from who-knows-where.

“Tell me something secret,” said Robbe. This much time without something on his mind could be seriously painful. “I went first last time.”

He kind of wanted Sander to refuse.

“I don’t have any secrets, Robbe.”

“You must have one.”

“Do you?”

Robbe shook his head quicker than he should have. He tried to sound as casual as possible when he said, “I’m an open book,” but he doubted it did any good.

The thing was, it was totally believable that Sander wouldn’t have any secrets. This was the boy who announced his sexuality to a friend of a friend that he didn’t even know. This was the boy who saw someone else in the astronomy tower, unloaded his relationship woes, and promptly kissed said someone else to get away from them. What did he have to hide, besides this relationship? What could someone like him possibly have to hide?

The dying day faded everything out into a stained-glass image that could take up the wall of a Hogwarts bathroom. Robbe let himself relax until his surroundings were no more than shapes and colors, pushing everything from his mind until he could barely process his hands running through Sander’s hair. The thoughts surfaced anyway. He was going to have to tell the boys about this, eventually, and maybe even Sander himself, if that was possible. Even now, his skin was electrified from contact.

So much for pushing back the sexuality crisis. It had to happen today.

“It is kind of nerve-wracking, all these people to convince,” Sander said, out of the blue. “I don’t even know who that guy is.” He pointed vaguely at Milan. “But right here, with us, this is okay. It’s just me. That’s my secret.”

That’s exactly the problem, thought Robbe. It’s just you. And I’m falling in love with you.

He said, “That’s a cop-out. Tell me something else.”

#sobbe #wtfock #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #hogwarts au #fake dating #fic request #conflict is coming i'm so sorry #my writing #fanfiction

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

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Addicted to You

Part IV: Crazy on You

Summary/Author's Note: The mission starts to go off the rails as a certain someone starts to get a taste of greed. Frankie deals with the dark parts of his soul and worries how you'll react to seeing such things. (Thank you so much for your support of me and this fic. Part I became my first fic to reach 300 notes and I cannot believe it was a Frankie fic, but he deserves the love.)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Pope's Sister!Reader Word Count: 5.3k (apparently I cannot shut up about Frankie) Warnings/Ratings: 18+ -- Stone cold murder, blood and gore, greed, language, panic attack, hurt/comfort, stress, a lot of violence--like a LOT, fucking TOM. (<<< This warning came back lmfao)

Part I * Part II * Part III

[MASTERLIST]

Frankie's hand in yours was like an anchor keeping you from giving in to the anxiety bubbling up inside your gut. They should have been wanting to leave the house, not going up another flight of stairs deeper into the mansion. The tension in the back of Frankie's shoulders was palpable and you wanted to reach out and put your hand in the middle of his back. He glanced over his shoulder at you and you tried your best to give him a reassuring smile.

"What's going on, Tom?" Frankie asked as the two of you cleared the threshold of the office and looked around.

Lorea's office was larger than any of the bedrooms had been. Expensive black oak bookshelves were on each wall and they matched the leather furniture and dark polished desk. The rain continued to pound against the windows and as a crack of thunder rattled the glass panels, you gripped Frankie's hand tightly. He turned and pulled you against his side as he leaned against one of the side tables. Your shoulders didn't relax however until you felt his nose against your hair, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

"We got nothin," Will hooked his fingers in the front of his vest. "This guy's a ghost."

"What?" Frankie looked around as Benny stormed out of the adjacent room.

"The fuck!?" He cursed as he tossed two fistfuls of limp duffle bags on the ground. "Nothing but empty bags!"

"And Lorea? Pope?" Tom said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at your brother like a disappointed father. Everyone seemed to take a moment and look at Pope as he stared blankly at the empty bags on the ground at his feet.

"He's gone. With the money." Will shrugged.

"Your girl gave us up, Pope." Frankie said as he raised his head from your hair and looked at his friend. "We gotta get the fuck out of here."

Pope took his hat off and squeezed the bill between his hands as he looked around worriedly. "No, no, no," he shook his head and ran a hand down his face before cursing. "No, no--fuck."

"Wait--" You interrupted, moving slightly away from the shelter of Frankie's body so they could hear you. "It might be still here."

"What do you mean, baby?" Frankie asked, keeping his hand in the small of your back and raising an eyebrow in question.

"Before," you swallowed hard and glanced at Tom before looking back to your brother. "Before they put me in the spare bedroom--they were painting. So much paint. All through the night."

"What does that matter?" Tom asked curtly.

Pope's eyes widened slightly as he put his hat back on backwards and pointed at you. "Shit--" he looked back at Tom. "What does that smell like to you?" His nostrils flared and he started looking around on the floor.

"Like a serious fuck up, man," Frankie bit his lip and Benny chuckled.

"No, she's right," Pope pointed to the wall nearest to him, and then to the cans of paint that were piled just outside the door. "It's fucking paint."

All of the men looked at the walls and took note for the first time of the crisp shine that lay on the fresh top coat. Parts of the room still looked wet to the naked eye, and rolls of painter's tape lay in various forgotten places on the floor and along the baseboards.

"The house is the safe," Tom whispered as he lowered his gun and moved away from where he was leaning on the desk. "The house is the fucking safe."

"The house is the safe," Pope nodded as a smile broke out on his face. He turned and crossed the few feet to you, putting his hands on the sides of your face and kissing you on the forehead. "You're a fucking genius, hermana."

Pope walked towards the closest wall and pulled out his hunting knife. He kept it sheathed and used the blunt handle to start hitting. The drywall was thin, and crumbled easily under the force in a dusting of white and chunks of paint and insulation. Just like you all had concluded each section of the wall was filled with stacks upon stacks of bundles of cash. Pope picked up a bundle and turned around slowly to show it to the others--a large grin plastered on his face.

"Holy shit," Benny moved to a wall opposite of Pope and started hitting the drywall with his elbow, over and over, until he had a wall big enough to start pulling the sheet rock down with his hands. "Will! Help me, man!"

Will joined his brother as they slid the large table to the side and took down the giant oil painting that covered most of the wall. Each of them started ripping and soon bundles of money were falling into the floor from the force of their search.

"Holy shit!" Benny said again.

Each of them laughed and cursed, hooped and hollered, as they broke down each individual wall and revealed the cash underneath. Frankie made sure you stepped back before he took out his own knife and started helping.

"We need bags," Pope called.

"I got it," Will nodded, tossing a couple of the duffles to them.

"Keep 'em coming, man!" Benny said, catching the canvas and dropping to his knees to start shoveling hundred dollar bills into the bags.

Frankie paused for a moment and looked at Pope with a serious look on his face. "What's wrong, Fish?" Pope asked.

"If the money’s still here, it means he’s still here." Frankie said, glancing back at you before back to the other man.

He was right. It made you look over your shoulder cautiously for any sign of the narcos lurking in the shadows. However, no one was in the room except the six of you.

"He's gone man!" Benny called as he toppled one of the armchairs away from the wall and got to work on an untouched part of the room. "There's more over here!"

"Back wall, too!" Will called.

"Concentrate boys," Tom snarled, shoving fistfulls of cash bundles into a bag of his own. "How much time we got??"

"Eight minutes!" The Miller brothers said in unison from the opposite side of the room.

They were all panting with the exertion of breaking the sides of the house and hustling to get as much of the stash into the duffle bags as they could, tossing them into the threshold of the office once they were zipped up and ready to go. The uneasy feeling was back in your stomach and you moved back over to Frankie's side and put your hand on his arm. "Cat--" you started to whisper but Tom yelled over you.

"Start getting this shit down to the van," he barked, tossing another bag onto the pile. "Keep your eyes open, do you hear me?"

Frankie looked at you with eyes so gentle it made your heart ache. It had been so long and yet with him standing in front of you it was as if he had spent the night in your bed just days ago. Without speaking, it was as if he understood what you were trying to tell him. You wanted to get the hell out of that mansion--money be damned.

"We'll do it," Frankie spoke up, breaking your gaze to look at Tom. "(Y/n) and I will go get the van and start loading up. We need to go."

"Good plan," Will nodded, handing his bag off to you instead of tossing it, with a reassuring smile.

"I can tell you one thing man," Pope, laughed as he and Tom continued to use both hands to shovel money onto the floor. "You can tell your girls they can stop studying, because Daddy's going to buy their way into Harvard!"

"Yeah, bitches!" Benny said with another cackle.

Frankie tossed another bag over his shoulder and made sure you were with him before moving out of the office and down the steps. Will was close on your heels as he passed Frankie and said, "I'll go get the van."

"Be careful," Frankie nodded.

The two of you made it to the breezeway that framed the driveway in place of a garage. The cool air felt good on your skin and the rain smelled refreshing as you stood in a spot that it hadn't managed to blow in on. Getting out of that house felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and with the relaxation came the ache of your tired muscles. Frankie told you to stay put and he made a couple more trips as they continued to toss him bags of money down the staircase. He was not subtle in the fact that you were never out of his sight for more than a handful of seconds. Each time he came back to throw more bags onto the pile, he touched your arm as if to reassure himself that you were real.

Will backed the van up and as soon as it got into position, Frankie hit the back doors with the palm of his hand, signaling a stop. He threw open the double doors and started loading.

"You guys stay here," Will said after he hopped out of the driver's side. "Get it loaded up and Benny and I will do the running."

"Sounds good." Frankie nodded and kept moving, working methodically to get as much into the back as was possible. It was like a game of real life Tetris.

You handed him bag after bag, finally speaking up as the van started to become full to the brim. "Cat--" you started again and he paused to look at you. "We need to go. Please."

It was the 'please' that got him. The look in your eyes that said if you spent another minute in this god forsaken mansion, it would break you. You had watched your crew die, you had been manhandled, tied up, and left alone. And now that he had come to the rescue, you needed as much distance between yourself and this place as humanly possible. His eyes softened and crinkled lightly around the edges, lines that hadn't been there two years ago but that you suddenly found endearing.

"Okay," he nodded. "Okay, we're going. Come on, baby." He slammed the doors shut as he tossed the last bag in and grabbed your hand like he had before.

The two of you walked back up the stairs at a hurried pace and when you walked back into the office you weren't prepared for what you saw. Between Pope and Tom, they had gotten the entire wall torn down and from ceiling to floor, stacked within the studs that made the frame of the house, was nothing but bundles and bundles of cash. Benny had moved into the hall just outside of the office and on a hunch, started hammering at another wall.

"There's more over here!" He called back to the others.

Frankie looked in the hall, and in the bedroom you had been tied up in, noting that each wall had a fresh coat of paint just like in Lorea's office. "It's the whole fucking house--fuck--"

"What is it, Fish?"

"The van's full man," Frankie urged him, looking at the rest of the guys in the office.

"It's all good," Will nodded, stopping his task of filling another bag. "We gotta go."

"Holy shit, this is a fuck ton of money," Benny said, grabbing another full bag and starting the trek down the stairs.

"We need to go," Frankie repeated what Will announced and Pope nodded in agreement. The only one who didn't move towards the door was Tom.

"We got time a couple more loads," he mumbled as he continued to hack away at a new wall with his machete.

Frankie narrowed his gaze on the man and glared at the back of his head. "What the hell are you doing? Stop digging more out we have all this to deal with!" He gestured to the floor that was littered with already packed bags and you tightened your grip on his hand. The anger building in his voice was undeniable.

"I said, just a couple more loads!" Tom argued without turning around and even looking at the others.

You waited for Frankie to retort but Will beat him to it, kicking one of the chairs out of his way and pointing at Tom. "You know in the ten years I've been working with you Tom, you have never missed a hard out!"

"We need to go!" Benny called from the stairs and Tom whipped around in anger.

"Listen to me! I gave us a fifteen minute cushion," he gestured out the window to the driveway. "That's twelve minutes to the church, a forty minute service, and twelve minutes back. Add five minutes to load in and out of the van and we can subtract seven and beat them to the exit route." He slammed his hand against the wall and raised his voice another level. "We will be fine! Alright? God dammit, look at all this!" He waved his arms around the room and Frankie shook his head.

"Fuck this!" He snarled and gripped your hand to start walking you down the hall.

"Fish is right," Will said, working to keep his voice calm and even to counteract Tom's. "Time’s up. We gotta go."

"Wait--" Pope finally spoke up and Frankie stopped in the hall to look back at him.

"Santi--" you said, shaking your head. Surely he didn't agree with Tom.

"I want one more sweep for Lorea--," he said, looking pointedly at you. "Alright? (Y/n)?" He knew you were scared, he knew they needed to leave, but three years of hunting this bastard and if he didn't do one more search of the house, he would always wonder what if. "And then we burn it all down."

Against his better judgement, Frankie nodded in agreement and rubbed his forehead. "Fine. (Y/n) and I will get these last ones down there, and you call when you're ready to light it up. But you better fucking hustle."

Will and Tom pulled themselves away from the walls and moved down the hall to the master bedroom. Pope started to follow and you let go of Frankie to grab his arm instead.

"Don't do this. Please. We need to go, now." You begged and looked him in the eyes.

"I have to look one more time," he said as gently as he could as he gripped your arm in return. "He has killed so many people. I have never been this close before--it ends now."

"Santiago--" you said, using his full name in a tone you both knew sounded like your mother.

"Go with Frankie," he nodded to the man at your right. "Go downstairs and get ready to--"

"GET DOWN!"

Tom's voice rang out from the bedroom at the end of the hall and the doorway erupted in an ear shattering blast of automatic fire and flashing lights. Frankie slammed you up against the wall and covered you with his body, bracing his forearms over your head. You made a noise as your back hit the drywall but you knew he didn't mean it--his only goal was to protect you, even though you were the one wearing the kevlar. The action made you remember just how much bigger he was than you as your world went dark and all you felt was the solid plane of his chest and cotton button up.

There was yelling, more gunfire, you heard Pope yell rapidly in his native tongue and Will said something over the bullets before everything went silent.

"What the hell are we shooting at?!" Frankie called above your head, loud enough that his voice carried into the bedroom. He looked down at you against his chest, panting hard as his heart raced. “You okay?” he whispered and you nodded. You were so tired of the sound of gunfire.

"Target down!" Tom called back and it made Frankie move back and let you breathe once again.

The two of you hurried into the bedroom and you gasped as Frankie put his arm out to keep you safely behind him.

Pope stood in the doorway of a secret safe room that had been hidden behind a large armoire. In the entrance to the hiding space lay Lorea in a pool of his own blood, with a bullet dead center in the middle of his forehead. Call it a hunch, but you knew your brother had made that hell of a shot. Pope had his gun pointed at the unmoving body and the veins in his arms flexed as he readjusted his grip on the weapon. His body went still before he pulled the trigger again, then again, over and over, emptying the entire clip into Lorea's head. Once the narcos was nothing more than a pile of blood and brain matter the gun clicked empty and Pope lowered his arms, hitting the release on the magazine and letting it fall to the floor.

Frankie approached him slowly and moved his own rifle to one hand so he could touch his friend on the shoulder. "You got him, man."

"He's dead." Pope said flatly and Frankie nodded.

"Good."

A groan came from the other side of the room as Will dropped to one knee with a thud. Everyone turned as they watched the blonde put a hand to his side and pull it back with his own blood painted across his fingers.

"I'm hit." He grunted, tossing his rifle to the side and working on the straps of his gear.

You hurried to his side as Tom mirrored your movements and the two of you flanked the man on the ground.

"Where?" Tom said.

"Left side." Will groaned as you helped him lay flat on the ground with his head resting against his backpack.

"Help me get this off, Tom," you said firmly, pulling at the straps of his kevlar that had ridden up just enough to let the bullet go through his lower love handle. You raised up Will's shirt and inspected the wound as warm blood slid down your hand and over your wrist before dripping to the floor. The man hissed as you probbed the wound. "It went straight through."

"Thank fuck," Tom said, looking up as Pope rummaged through his bag and handed you his clot kit.

"Get it on him, and then we gotta go."

"I'm okay. I'm okay," Will nodded as Pope took Tom's place on his opposite side. Tom and Frankie aimed both of their guns at the door as they heard footsteps. "I told you this was a stupid idea." Will groaned.

"Yeah, you sure did," Pope chuckled, helping you wrap the stretchy material around his waist and apply pressure.

Benny came back in and the two guarding the door quickly aimed their guns at the ground. "Church is out--they're back...shit." His eyes got wide as he laid sight on his brother and the blood all over your hands.

"The family is here?" Frankie asked and Benny shook his head.

"No, the first shift of guards."

Once you secured the clotting cloth, Will thanked you with a grip of your arm and a smile that reached his kind, blue eyes. You stood and allowed Benny to take your spot, helping him get his kit back on and slowly make it to his feet. They hadn't brought a stretcher and they definitely couldn't carry him out of here, but the blonde kept repeating that he could make it.

"Okay, new plan," Pope looked out the window, watching the guards pull up to the house. "we each grab a backpack of cash and we go out through the jungle and around."

"No, no way," Will shook his head and groaned as he got all the way up onto his feet.

"We are getting Ironhead home safe!" Tom pointed at the blond. "Not trekking him through the jungle. And we are not leaving them any of this fucking money!"

Frankie felt his hands ball into fists as he took a step towards Tom but Pope blocked him with his arm and you took the hint to go stand by him.

"Right…" Pope said cautiously with a desperate look on his face--talking to Tom like the ticking time bomb that he was. "So, we burn it all down and go."

"There is about a hundred million dollars down there in that van," Tom pointed to the hall. "We are going out the front. We need to hunt and shoot quickly. Call out your kills--I don't want any fucking surprises!"

There was a moment of silence as the two men clearly struggled for who was calling the shots. You tried to breathe evenly as you watched the vein pop in your brother's neck as he stared down Tom. Tom had always been your least favorite of your brother's squad. His hotheaded manner and stubbornness always seemed to get him, and anyone else in his path, in more trouble than they should have. But you stayed next to Frankie and let Pope think this one out.

"We had two objectives--Lorea and (Y/n). Now, I am not putting my sister or Ironhead in more danger for some fucking narcos money."

"Both of them will be in more danger if we drag our sorry asses through that jungle," Tom stepped closer to the other man. "You brought me here to lead--now, I'm not asking, we're not taking a vote, I'm telling you...we're leaving through the front."

The two of them continued to stare at one another before Pope finally backed down with a nod and your stomach dropped to the floor. "Alright."

"Let's get it done," Will said, breathing heavily as he adjusted his rifle in his hands. "Quick and clean. Like always."

"Pope and Frankie, you take (y/n) and go out that way and down through the kitchen. Millers down the front. I'll hang back and keep an eye out--here we go fellas." Tom accentuated each order with a point and gesture of his arm and Frankie looked down at you.

"Get your gun out," he said, lowering his voice as you all started to move in the directions you were told. "Don't shoot first--unless necessary."

"Got it," you nodded, gripping the glock tighter than was needed to keep your hands from shaking.

You moved swiftly and with purpose. Taking two steps to Frankie's one as you moved down the stairs and through the living room. A short spatter of bullets sounded from the dining room and shortly after, you heard Will's voice through the com on Frankie's ear. "That's two down in the front hall."

The two of you turned the corner and Frankie squeezed the trigger, firing twice into the chest of a guard who crossed his path. "That's three."

Another round of shots and Pope's voice came next, "That's four."

"Back to the main gate. They dropped more guys out there."

Frankie clicked his com, "I'm going out through the kitchen and grabbing the van."

"The kitchen is the wrong way, what are you on about Fish?" Tom's voice came over, confused and irritated.

"I got something I gotta do." He said back and turned to you behind him. "Stay here."

"What??" You said, your voice a little higher than you would have liked it to be.

"I need you to stay here." He tried to be reassuring but your heart started hammering in your chest and the thought of being alone again in this place. The idea of him leaving you for any reason made it even worse.

"Don't leave me," you shook your head. The fear on your face must have been more evident than you thought because looking at you made him hesitate.

"You promise that no matter what happens in the next few minutes, you'll do as I say?" He asked and your fear turned increasingly into a mixture of panic.

"Frankie--"

"Promise me, (y/n)." He said flatly, he was not negotiating.

You nodded, adding in a meek voice, "I promise."

He led the way into the kitchen, his rifle was slung over his shoulder by the strap as he took out another handgun from the holster at his side. The appliances were incredibly outdated but the creamy butter-yellow walls and white cabinets easily made the kitchen the brightest room in the desolate house. You watched Frankie walk around the kitchen island, his gun sweeping the area as he moved into the heart of the room.

Two men lay on the tile floor, bound and gagged, and you knew exactly who they were. They were two of Lorea's head guards, the ones that shoved you in the van in the middle of the city, the one that hit you, tied you up--and Frankie knew it too.

He raised his gun and one of the men started to yell around the black electrical tape over his mouth, thrashing his head back and forth wildly. You felt like you were going to be sick.

"Frankie…" you said, standing next to him and touching his side.

He lowered the gun ever so slightly and looked at you. "Remember the deal? Whatever I say, right?"

Bile rose in your throat as you saw the hardened look in the eyes of one of the kindest men you have ever known. Those normally warm, coffee-colored eyes were almost black as he looked at you with a locked jaw and unwavering stance. Seeing such emotion in him and how palpable it felt around his aura hurt more than you ever thought it could. Tears burned in the back of your throat as you nodded. You weren't crying for the men on the floor, you were crying to the soul of the man you loved.

He reached his free arm out and drew you against the shelter of the side of his body. He could feel you tremble against him as you grabbed onto his shirt like the lifeline that it was.

"Close your eyes and cover your ears," he said, flatly and when he felt you let go of him to do so, he pulled the trigger.

One shot. Muzzle. Bitch. Two shots. Merchandise. Cunt.

Two clean shots, echoing in the empty kitchen, hit both of them directly in the center of the forehead. No mistake, no chance, just dead. Frankie felt you jolt against him with each bang and no matter how much he wanted the men at his feet to suffer the way you had suffered, he wouldn't risk making you feel differently about him. The idea that the rage bubbling in his gut could make you look at him in fear was enough to keep his emotions in check. He had done what he needed to do. They would never lay hands on anyone else the way they had laid hands on his girl, no one would ever suffer because of them again--for now, that was enough.

Neither you nor Frankie spoke as you left the mansion and loaded into the van. You watched in the rearview mirror as Tom squeezed the lighter fluid on every inch of the foyer and the curtains that lined the walls. He pulled out a lighter and paused for a moment before flicking it to life and tossing it down. The front of the house quickly engulfed in flames, so bright they burned blue towards the bottom where the heat was the most intense.

The wipers squeaked in a rhythmic annoyance as you sat in the van and the two of you waited for the rest of them to get the other vehicle. An SUV of guards pulled into the compound and you gripped the console as Pope and Will opened fire, busting the tinted windows and peppering everyone inside with bullets. Each man opened a door and grabbed a now lifeless guard by the shirt and pulled him out to let him slump to the ground like a ragdoll.

You watched as Tom moved up from the ditch and shot the last guard in another spray of blood that was quickly washed down the rocks by the rain.

It was suddenly too humid in the car. There was not enough air circulating as your chest felt tight and your breathing increased. It felt as if someone was sitting on top of you. Your hands shook, your eyes burned, and you wanted to claw at your throat to desperately rid yourself of whatever was stuck inside of your windpipe.

"Frankie," you managed to choke out as you started to feel around your vest for the buckles. "Frankie, I can't breathe."

"Hey, hey," he said softly, turning his body in the seat to face you. Saying your name, he reached out and put his hand over yours as you kept trying to rip at the straps of the kevlar. "Stop. (Y/n) stop."

"I can't--" you started to argue with a shake of your head and you hated how weak your voice sounded. You weren't broken. You could do this. But the silence of the car, paired with finally being in a space of solitude with Frankie, was forcing every fear and thought you had in the last three days to race to the surface.

"You can," he insisted. "We are not out of the woods yet." He took your hand in his and scooted as close to you as the center console would allow. He put your hand over his heart and made sure you locked eyes with him. "This has to stay on you. You understand? I know what you're feeling and I promise as soon as we get somewhere safe you can fall as hard as you need to and I’ll be there, okay?"

You nodded way too quickly and felt dizzy the moment the motion made your hair bounce. He squeezed the hand he had pressed against his chest and dipped his head to make sure you caught his gaze.

“I’m okay,” you said, not sounding okay in the slightest, but maybe if you said it outloud it would be true.

“I know you are,” he reassured you. “Breathe with me. In through your nose--there it is. Out through your mouth. You got it. Here.” He leaned forward and turned on the A/C, pointing the extra vents at you and breathing became easier once you felt the cool air tickle the strands of your hair. He kept hold of your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it a few times.

“Thank you,” you closed your eyes and leaned back against the headrest continuing to breathe as evenly as you could.

“No thanks needed, sweetheart,” he said quietly, looking back out the window as Pope gave him a signal to keep moving. “That’s us.”

You started to pull your hand away so he could drive but he kept his grip on it, balancing them on the gearshift as he moved his freehand to the top of the steering wheel. The unconscious action made you smile a bit. Something as simple as holding his hand over the console of the car reminded you of summer drives in his truck. With rolled down windows and a classic rock station, you could almost smell the wind in the grass and hear the frogs calling along the tree line. You held onto that memory as tightly as you held onto his hand, knowing that it was the only things that were going to get you out of this fucking jungle in one piece.

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#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #Triple Frontier #pedro pascal #pedro character fic #addicted to you

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dripkingpetey · 4 years

Text

love-e.pettersson

ive been working on this for a few days and im kinda proud of it! would love some feedback from you or requests for other story lines, i promise i’ll stop doing the friends to lovers storylines haha. i also accidentally deleted this and i was so sacred i couldnt get it back but here it is! i hope you enjoy.

*lowercase intended!*

2.2k words

he loves you, you know that right?

“why did you drag me here, i really don’t like hockey and you know that.” you said as you sighed to your bestfriend lucie while she pulls you down to your seats in rogers arena.

“i know you don’t.” lucie said with a bright smile on her face. “but, you’re gonna learn to like it.” you look at her in confusion. “so, this is your way of torturing me as if you don’t already torture me enough by bringing me to parties.” you said while sitting down and looking at the players who are starting to get on the ice. “maybe.” lucie said with a wide grin and a mischievous look on her face before puck drop starts.

you’ve never been big on hockey, which is surprising considering you have lived in vancouver your whole life and your family is super big hockey fans. you also aren't the most extroverted person. sure, you’d go out to bars sometimes but mostly just with your close friends.

“what part of this sport do you even like?” you said as the game is going into the third period the canucks are now up 4-1 against the opposing team which you don’t even really know who they are. “well, if I’m being honest some of them are really hot but mostly cause of the sport.” you scoffed at her response. “none of them are hot from where i can see.” lucie looked at you with a shocked look. “oh you’ll get it once you get to know the players more.” you give her a confused look and put your full attention back to the game.

canucks ended up winning the game 5-2, lucie was very happy about it and you could tell cause she wanted to go out for a couple drinks and you didn’t want to say no so you agreed to go.

you had been at the bar for about twenty minutes and lucie was already gone which isn’t surprising, she was probably sleeping with some guy right now.

you started to panic a little when a creepy old dude came up to you and started hitting on you. “hey pretty girl, want to come home with me?” he started putting his hand on your arm which was resting on the table. you look around for lucie in panic but she’s no where to be found.

you then feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist and you get even more freaked out.

“hey babe, sorry i was gone for so long.” elias says to you with a smile but then proceeds to give the creepy dude the alien death stare which worked. after the dude leaves elias faces you and starts speaking. “sorry i touched you like that, it looked like you were alone and that guy was creeping you out so i thought you could use some help.” he shoots an apologetic smile at you.

“its okay,” you give him a smile back. “thank you a lot actually, i have no idea where my friend went.” you take another look around the bar before looking back and him.

“i’m elias by the way.” he smiles at you while holding his hand out for you to shake it. “y/n.” you say before shaking his hand.

“so elias, what are you doing in this bar on a thursday night?” you gesture for him to sit down next to you. “if i told you, you wouldn’t believe me.” elias lets out a soft laugh while sitting down across from you. “tell me, i wanna know.” elias sighs lightly before he starts speaking again. “i’m with them,” he gestures over to brock, jake, quinn, thatcher and troy. you look over to see them all waving at you and laughing at elias, you laugh softly and wave back at the before turning your attention back to elias. “ah, so i’m guessing you’re on the canucks?”

elias lets out a nervous laugh. “yeah, why don’t we go somewhere else where the boys aren’t up my ass?” you take another sip out of your drink. “i would love to.” he holds out his hand for you and as you guys walk out you can hear the guys chirping, but when you look over to elias you can see him giving the death stare to the boys and it makes you laugh. “you have a scary death stare jeez.” elias leads you to his car. “that’s surprisingly what the fans love me for.” he smiles at you before opening the car

door for you.

“…and that’s all what led me to being on the canucks.” elias said to you while eating a chip out of the chip bowl you had prepared. it had been a couple hours since you guys left the bar and went back to your apartment, you don’t know why but it felt like you and elias had such a strong bond already that you both felt like you can talk for hours and hours and never get tired of each other, he felt the same way too. “jeez, i kinda sound like a douche. i’ve been talking about myself all night, please tell me more about you.” elias said to you while you laughed at his words.

“it’s all good, i’ve been the one asking questions anyways.” you smiled while responding to him. “no seriously, tell me something about you before i have to go which i really don’t want to by the way.”

you look at the time and realize its almost twelve am so you proceed to give him a quick response. “well, i’ve lived in vancouver my whole life. and i’m currently going to ubc as a nursing student.” you smiled at his now very amused face.

“see, that’s something i wouldn’t have known if you didn’t say it,” he laughs a little before he finishes his sentence. “can i get your number? i have practice early tomorrow morning but i’m free for the rest of the day if you want to hang out.”

you smile at his words and take his phone from him. “of course you can, i’m free tomorrow too just give me a call.” you said while handing his phone back to him after you’ve entered your number. elias gives you a wide grin and you both get up so you could walk him to the door. “goodnight elias.” you look up at him with a smile as he’s standing in the doorway. “goodnight y/n, sweet dreams.” he said and then started to walk down the hallway towards the elevator. “pettersson!” you called out at him and he turns around confused. “text me when you get home.” he gives you the thumbs up and you close your door and head to bed.

no ones ever shown this much attention to elias before, at least no one he’s truly cared about.

he smiled to himself on his drive home cause he was excited to text you again.

*contact name changed to “y/n<3”*

text message to y/n<3:i just got home, thank you for the awesome night :).

it’s been a couple weeks since you and elias had met at the bar, you basically hung out with each other anytime you could.

you were each others best friends at this point, sure the guys would make fun of elias for being in love with you but you couldn’t see it, elias knows he has some feelings for you but he wasn’t sure about it yet. he also didn’t want to risk the amazing friendship you guys had started.

“hey, are you coming to the game tonight?” elias asked over the phone to you.

you let out a sigh before you start speaking. “i’ll try, schools been really hard lately but i should be able to finish studying tonight.” elias could hear the tiredness in you voice and it hurt him to see you like this. “y/n, its okay. you don’t have to try and make it, focus on school its way important. you have many more games of mine that you can watch.” he left out a soft chuckle at the end of his sentence.

“i’ll still try though, i’ll give you a text if i can make it.” you said to him as you looked at the last large text book you had to read through and look at the giant pile of coffee cups surrounding your desk.

“okay, love you, i gotta go.” “love you too e, good luck.” you both quickly exchanged goodbyes as you started reading your last text book. you knew there was no way you were going to be able to make it to his game tonight and you felt really bad, you sighed it off as you put your attention back to studying and occasionally looking at the canucks game that was now playing on your tv.

the game had ended, canucks lost by one but petey is a sore loser so obviously he was sad, which made him show up at your apartment, he brought pizza from your favourite place downtown.

you were passed out on the couch though, which resulted in elias having to pull out his spare key and sneaking into your apartment.

“elias?” you mumbled out as you felt him sit next to where you were laying on the couch, he motioned for you to lay you head on his lap and you did.

“hey sleepy girl, i brought our favourite pizza.” he said to you with a smile. no matter how bad of a day elias was having, you could always make him smile.

you positioned your head so you’re now facing up at him and you give him a big smile. “thank you, can we snuggle and watch a movie?” elias starts rubbing your cheek softly. “of course we can y/n.”

the night ended with you and elias falling asleep on the couch together while watching a movie he had picked out, you both forgot about all the stress from today and just enjoyed the moment.

“he loves you, you know that right?” brock said to you as he came by and sat next to you.

it was the start of summer, tanev decided to host a little barbecue for the whole team before everyone left vancouver and went back to their home towns for the summer.

you were sitting in the backyard watching elias talk to huggy. “what?” you said to brock with confusion. “no he doesn’t.”

brock scoffed at your response. “dude, you can’t be serious. how do you not see it.”

you thought about what brock said for awhile before you gave him a response. “does he talk about me?” you looked at brock while taking a sip of your drink.

“does he talk about you? of course he fucking does y/n, all the time. especially when you don’t show up to our games, it’s worse when we’re on the road.”

you smile to yourself at what brock said.

you were quite tipsy by the end of the night and elias didn’t want to let you go home alone, so you spent the night at his place.

“elias?” you said in your sweet drunken tone as you both settled into his bed, and you faced your body in his direction.

“yes?” he said while playing with your hair softly.

“brock said something to me earlier,” you said while pulling your body close to his.

“of course he did,” he said with a sigh. “what’d he say this time?”

“apparently you talk about me a lot?” you said with a soft laugh and your fingers now tracing up and down his back.

“yeah, yeah i do. i talk shit about you all the time.” he says sarcastically knowing where this conversation was going.

“hey!” you said as you playfully punched him. “i was going to do something but i guess not anymore.” you said with a huff.

he lifts your chin up to face him. before you knew it you guys were kissing each other, it was a soft, long and sweet kiss.

elias pulled away with a big grin on his face and you did too. you talked to each other for the rest of the night, you ended up falling asleep before elias did but he did too shortly after.

you woke up to the smell of elias making waffles, you hugged him from behind and he didn’t even notice you were awake until you did that.

“it smells really good,” you said to elias before kissing his cheek and begging for him to hug you.

he pulls you into his grip and whispers in your ear. “do you wanna go to sweden with me for the summer?”

you look up at him with slight shock. “yeah, why not.” you said to him with a smile and he gets very excited and spins you around, you kiss for awhile until you smell something burning and you pull away.

“shit.” elias mumbles as he deals with the burnt waffles and you’re both laughing your asses off.

#elias pettersson #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson imagine #petey #pettersson #nhl canucks #vancouver canucks #canucks hockey #canucks #vancouver canucks x reader #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl hockey

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 16

First time reader click here

Summary/TWs: Trouble is brewing. Canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of wounds and Clint whump. Bad, terrible, no-good medical accuracy. Aliens. Reader is an anxious genius with low self-esteem and PTSD. ✨spicy sadness✨

From now on, chapters will be posted un-beta-ed. She's taking a lil break. 💖💝✨

I liked to think I had made peace with the fact that my boys and girls had one hell of a dangerous job. Natasha, Clint, Steve and Bucky frequently left for missions and while I missed their usual bickering in the background, it wasn't like the tower's common room became absolutely quiet. The fact that they mostly did recon-only missions helped, too, as they would come home unharmed and in one piece. The worry was there but subtle - like setting the table and including silverware for the people who were gone on a mission.

Peter's patrols went less smoothly, usually. He was small and even in his spider-suit, the boy was frequently underestimated by common thugs. Apparently, they didn't know how to read the news - it was blatantly obvious the hero was enhanced. And yet somehow, Pete more often than not sported all sorts of bruises, scratches and tears.

Tony and I routinely tore out our hair over the spiderboy's carelessness. The engineer had a funny way of showing he cared for Peter. Once I got to know him better, my brain dubbed them as Irondad and Spiderson. And it wasn't weird at all, somehow, that I was basically fucking my best friend's dad. Tony never made me uncomfortable, if anything, he went to great lengths to accommodate my whims. Tony continuously found time for me, answered my dumb questions and soldiered through the shenanigans I got up to after having too much caffeine and too little sleep.

Sitting in the quiet, empty common room was unnerving. It was shortly after dinner time - the evening news skipped their usual political debate in favour of the battle that was raging downtown, the reason for my headache and wrung hands.

I missed Tony's running mouth. The aliens the team was fighting looked quite hilarious, murderous intentions aside, and I could only imagine the way Tony and Clint would mock them. Hentai rejects. Tentacle porn knock-offs. The aliens were squid-like, about half the size of a human and very, very slippery, from what I spied on the TV.

An irritated-looking Stephen had me equal parts apprehensive and drooling - one after another, he conjured up a series of small portals, teleporting the aggressive octopods only god knew where. It would have looked incredibly badass if not for the exhausted sheen of sweat I could see on his brow, even despite the camera footage being shaky and grainy.

The news footage showed Tony - Iron Man, soaring contentedly through the darkening skies and taking out the squirmy mass of tentacles with his plasma beam repulsors. Steve and Bucky and Loki appeared too, sporadically, being well-oiled murder machines. Nothing new.

Yet, I worried. The little worm of doubt was squirming full-force. I tried to ignore it, yet pacing, sitting and playing Candy Crush got me nowhere. I pestered Friday to order pizza, the team's usual post-mission order plus a large one for me - stress-eating was better than stress-popping-molly in a tower full of superheroes. It took some courage to admit to myself I'd gotten attached enough to be this much from running away from all that in a blind panic.

And it would be the best option for them, really, because they had much sensible things to worry about than me. Yet every time, my selfishness won against even the most logical arguments I presented. I hated fighting myself but it was all I did - not only I was in love with Tony, I loved him.

Even when he forgot about my existence for five days, to emerge from his workshop with a new piece of tech that revolutionised one or another or something else. I loved him when he annoyed the ever living fuck out of everybody, me included, because I knew that it was hilarious to see people getting riled up over totally trivial shit. I loved Tony Stark when he ran away from his feelings, and everybody else's, because he never managed to run far enough. Or he didn't want to. I loved him, because he was like a multilayered puzzle, complex and captivating and beautiful.

I thought a lot about it, more than people would have noticed. For someone as selfish and goal-oriented as me, Tony lived in my head rent-free most of the time. And nobody would find out if I had the choice because let's face it, I'm a short cameo in his life. I'm a fuckin' catch and even then, I can't expect to hold his attention forever. His genius is too brilliant to settle for one when he could easily have the whole damn world.

Another hour consisted of me pacing and accompanying the pizza delivery boys to the common floor. It was hilarious - they were obviously star-struck about walking the same carpet as their heroes. I could see the faint hope of meeting one of the Avengers in their eyes, their posture. All they got was me - in my sweatpants, Tony's tee and no bra. My tits got the attention they deserved, at least.

My lounging was interrupted by a golden circle noisily appearing in the middle of the room, followed by Clint abruptly falling through it with a pained moan. I froze, the pizza in my mouth turning to ash - Strange poked his head through the hole in space, finding my eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Help him, I don't have much time," He breathed and disappeared, closing the portal behind himself.

The pizza piece flew back in the box as I stumbled, jumped over the headrest, kneeling beside Clint in no time. "Bird, tell me what hurts," I demanded. Not that I had a clue what to do. I mean, I knew basic first aid and...

"My leg," He gritted out, curling in on himself. Fear flooded me, limbs turning to lead. Hawk had a good pain tolerance, I knew he could break an arm and not utter a single syllable until he thought it safe to showcase his vulnerability. "That squid motherfucker stung me, I don't know. My whole body is on fire," His speech was slurred.

I nodded, deciding to limit the touching to only the necessary actions. The leg of his pants was torn and the wound itself was shaped like a whip mark, thin and red and angry. It oozed a yellowish pus-like substance, it smelled bitter, almost like stale water and seaweed salad. I didn't know much about aliens but jellyfish stings, I could work with. A short Google check later, I had an approximate plan.

"Friday, run diagnostics." I ordered, taking a deep breath and filing away the fear, the panic and anxiety for later.

"Mr. Barton has a wound that appears to be contaminated with an unknown chemical that is causing an adverse reaction. The elevated body temperature suggests that his immune system is fighting it. I would suggest a blood test to examine the offending specimens."

A blood draw? I could do that. I definitely, absolutely, could do that.

"Bird, Clint, did you hear that?" I gently touched his shoulder only for him to recoil from my hand, muttering unintelligibly. "Pretty bird, I'm going to help you. Let me." My bedside manner needed improvement - with brain running a mile a minute, I babbled utter nonsense as Friday directed me to the needed supplies. Getting the blood was a feat on it's own - I had to physically sit on top of Clint to get but a tiny vial of the red liquid.

A few tears escaped the emotional fortress I had to build within myself. Clint was in so, so much pain - pain I was inadvertently making worse by touching him. I sprinted to Bruce's lab, feeding the sample to be analysed by Friday, tearing through the room in a hurricane. First aid kit, IV, saline, antibiotics. Restraints, too, just in case.

"Analysis complete. The contaminant appears to be acting similarly to a parasitic infection with a short life-span. Primarily feeds on copper, iron and various metals contained in the human body. Does not appear to reproduce or multiply, my algorithms cannot determine the cause of said behaviour. Calculating..." Friday's mechanical voice paused. "I have calculated the approximate duration of Mr. Barton's symptoms. Onset of critical stage in one to three hours. Complete extinction of parasitic organisms in approximately sixty hours."

"Fri, do you think I have a chance of saving Clint before he goes crazy from pain? And have you figured out what's causing it?" My brain was all over the place.

"I have the best faith in you, miss." The AI sounded almost... Comforting? "I am still running multiple diagnostics. My algorithms suggest the organisms may be attacking the nerve endings - reason unclear."

An idea struck me. A crazy, brash, absurd idea. The pathogen was alien and we didn't have antibiotics to kill it. Even if I gave Clint some sort of medicine, it could go awry really really quickly. Besides, wasn't there a medical team for this..?

"Friday, alert the medical suite."

"Request denied. Per Mr. Stark's protocols, only Sir himself and Dr. Banner are authorized to request medical assistance in case of alien pathogen contamination."

"Fuck. Fuck, that makes no fuckin' sense!" I yelled helplessly. "Okay, do you have blood matching Clint's type laying around?" I asked sarcastically. This protocol pissed me off. What was Tony scared of? That someone would steal alien germs? Too late for that, there were plenty of samples all over the sidewalks downtown.

"A-positive, blue refrigerator, top shelf." Friday's answer was curt.

My hands shook. My whole body shook. Clint was laying in fetal position right where I'd left him and the man wasn't looking better - he became paler, dark circles under his eyes, clammy sweat breaking on every exposed part of his skin. Moving him was out of the question - Clint violently recoiled from me once I tried to touch him.

Reluctantly, I dragged the dining room chairs and piled up whatever heavy things I could on top of them, praying to every god that they would hold a trained man trash around in pain. Then, came the restraints. Belts with clips unlike one could see in a movie with a psych ward. I fumbled with them, then with Clint - very slowly, but I got both of his arms fastened and the man rolled onto his back.

"Wwhat... S'appening..?" Hawk finally slurred, cracking his eyes to see my (probably) disheveled and panicked face.

"This is going to hurt, I won't lie. A lot," I rambled, setting up the tools needed for both a blood draw and a blood transfusion. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not a scientist. You have alien parasites in your blood. I'm going to get rid of em," I announced, not mentioning the fact that I had to Google all the things I was going to do to him.

"S'okay, I trust you," Clint slurred again, moving about much more weakly than before. The tips of his fingers began to turn blue and the blood vessels on his face stood out in a pink-purple web. Not good.

My finest thinking moment: laying out some tarp around the archer and putting on gloves and a mask to minimize the possibility of getting infected. I started with the wound first, carefully wiping away the yellowish goop and immediately sealing it into a biohazard container. Some alcohol around the edges, the wound began emanating a faint wisp of smoke as Clint yelled hoarsely. I didn't even react - man, aliens and their germs were fuckin' weird.

Another biohazard container traveled next to Clint's arm. I had a disposable scalpel in one hand and my courage in another - it was now or never. The vein I was cutting was a minor one, but with Clint's body in total disarray, it was an ugly fountain of pinkish-purple liquid that spurted from it. I was no doctor but blood shouldn't have looked like that.

I stared at the timer on my phone. Twenty seconds, thirty, fifty. Eighty seconds, the blood was beginning to have more of a red hue. Clint's breathing slowed, tremors subsiding by a smidgen. One hundred and eighty seconds, the stream was a healthy deep red colour. With a swift motion, I wrapped up the wound, folded his arm, tied off the blood flow higher up his arm with a spare restraint. Clint wasn't moving much anymore; my hand that periodically checked his pulse shook but dutifully did it's job. His heart was working steady.

Compared to having to drain a friend of his blood, setting up the IV with a transfusion was a walk in the park. My mind was empty of any thoughts but for the actions needed to complete the process.

The container with contaminated blood, closed, sealed and put in a plastic bag, along with the gloves and the tarp. My own exposed flesh, meticulously scrubbed with alcohol until the skin became red and raw. All the instruments, Clint's pants, my clothes - in the bag.

The archer himself was laying still, his breathing steady and calm, face no longer looking like he was one step away from the grave. After undoing the restraints, I wiped down every surface we touched with Tony's vodka - rubbing alcohol had run out and I was too emotionally drained to go downstairs and leave Clint for too long. Whenever the booze collided with a stray drop of blood, a wispy smoke emerged. Such an interesting reaction. Part of me couldn't wait to examine the phenomena together with Bruce. The other part was considering the possibility of having a panic attack in a seafood restaurant.

"Fri, keep an eye- a sensor on Clint for me, will ya? I need a shower and some pants," I denounced tiredly, padding to the communal shower. I found respite, however brief, under the steam for a few minutes. Then I found Tony's old tee and a pair of someone's sweats - I didn't care whose. Post-stress adrenaline shivers had me feeling stark naked in the middle of Alaska despite the room being a toasty, comfortable temperature according to the digital thermostat.

Now I just had to think about what to tell the team.

Propping Clint's head on a decorative pillow and covering him with a soft fleece blanket was the least I could have done for the long suffering archer. The floor was hard but I sat next to him, running a hand through his matted hair, my brain an incomprehensible mess.

✨ TAGLIST OF MY LOVELIES (OPEN) ✨

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

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jungxk · 5 years

Text

just one (vii)

notes: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

warnings: smut (oral: m receiving. unprotected sex, brief cumplay)

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 10.4k

tagging: @underthejoon @misosoup-forthesoul

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

jungkook knows from the second he heard seulgi's steps marching to the front door that he should have just sat back and waited for your reply before coming over. but he has a busy afternoon and somewhere to be in less than an hour, and it's much too late to scarper because seulgi yanks the door open before he can twist on his heels. her hair is up in a pile on top of her head with a huge sweatshirt coming down to her knees but jungkook has never been more terrified. seulgi watches him so carefully he swears she can see the beads of sweat forming on his temple. "seulgi noona! good morning," no response. "um...how are you?"

seulgi taps her foot. "you want to know how i am after you finished all the fruit loops and left your dirty underwear on my bathroom floor?" even though he's a head taller than her, jungkook still scurries to obey when she points him into the flat. "how do you think i am, jungkook? because i feel like i'm a single mother to a messy, inconsiderate weasel who doesn't know how to put the toilet seat down!"

"um...sorry?" jungkook offers timidly, hoping his cute grin will lessen his sentence. it usually works on his hyungs and hookups. "i'll replace the fruit loops, i promise. and i'll work on the toilet thing!"

just when he thinks he's in the clear and tries to step passed her, seulgi grabs jungkook by the ear and yanks him back to make him shriek. "fuck yeah you'll work on it! you also have to work on not using my limited edition apple-scented conditioner that i've been saving up for since before you were born!"

"you're only three years older than me!"

she pulls harder. "what was that?"

"i'm sorryyy," jungkook whines uncomfortably, unable to free himself from her grip to keep hold of the huge bag he's clutching. he squeezes his eyes shut when she starts to twist and regrets ever stepping foot here without you to protect him as a human shield. "ow, ow, ow! i said i'm sorry, noona!"

"leave him alone seulgi! you can kill him after friday, he's our ride!" jisoo pokes her head out from the kitchen to make sure that seulgi complies and releases jungkook in one piece, throwing the younger boy a sympathetic smile while he clutches his swollen ear with a pout. "_____ is in the shower, jungkookie. go wait in her room before you leave here decapitated."

jungkook practically sprints down the hall, barely missing seulgi when she lunges for him threateningly. "if you weren't fucking one of my best friends i'd keep your nuts as a keychain, jeon! remember that!"

"kook? you here?" you call just before pushing open your bedroom door, kicking it shut with your heel while holding a towel to your hair. sure enough jungkook is sat at the end of your bed, pink knees showing through the rip in his jeans while he bounces his leg in anticipation. the hoodie he's wearing is too big for him, and he's squeezing the handle of a big, fancy looking paper bag like his life depends on it. "i thought i heard seulgi screaming," you scoff, rushing past him to search for a pair of socks in the laundry basket, haphazardly throwing things into your bag as you go. "sorry, but i'm already late to jimin's, so maybe later? his new order came from asos so he wants my opinions-"

"i'll be quick," jungkook stands quickly, and you finally take a second to get a proper look at his face. big, round eyes looking everywhere but yours when he thrusts the bag at you. "i just wanted to give you this. i'll see you later! if seulgi doesn't castrate me first..."

"wait," you steady a hand on his arm before he can go. "what's this? did i leave something at yours?"

he shakes his head. it's hard to do anything but stare at him: a gift? from jungkook? the most he had ever bought you was the occasional lunch or emergency chocolate, so it was a little hard to believe. a part of you is convinced it was some kind of gag like a costco-size pack of condoms or an accompaniment to those vibrating panties from his birthday but jungkook isn't laughing. if anything, he looks agitated. but it's hard to tell if that was because of seulgi's yelling. he clearly wasn't going to give you an explanation so you sit on the bed and decide to keep jimin waiting another ten minutes.

you pull out the bag's contents and it's heavy. it's a thick wooden case with ornate golden latches, and inside the case are beautifully arranged premium oil paints of every discernible shade you could think of, pristine and practically gleaming against the velvet lining. the set was complete with palette knives and various varnishes and glazing mediums that are only sold with the most luxurious of paint sets. you only ever saw this kind of painting equipment in shop windows or ridiculous online bids and here they were, spread out across your hello kitty bedding. finally, your shaky hands reach out to trace the gold work the edges of the wood just to make sure your eyes weren't deceiving you.

all the while jungkook practically hops from one foot to the other, desperate to leave. "it's okay if you don't like them. you don't have to use them or anything, i just thought-"

"jungkook," you whisper, overwhelmed with questions. "i...they're beautiful," he relaxes significantly. "i just...i can't believe you got your hands on these, they must have cost a fortune...!" you finally meet his eyes, shocked. your hair damp and your expression creased with confusion and even concern...it's sweet. he finds it hard not to smile. you start to shake your head slowly. "kook-ah, i can't accept this. there's no way i can pay you back-"

"why would you pay me back? they're yours," your stomach flips when he looks at you, hands in his hoodie pocket while he hovers over you. he hasn't put his cologne on yet so he smells like baby fabric softener and something sweet. your jungkook. "you needed paints and now you have them." he pauses at your blank expression. "do you need more colours or something? it was the biggest set i could find-"

"no! no, of course not, it's plenty...more than enough! more than i know what to do with, actually..." you stare at him again. "i don't know what to say. i've never had paints so expensive before..." guilt creeps up in the back of your throat. "you didn't have to do this, you know. jisoo and seulgi were going to get me new oils for my birthday anyway...pretty good ones, from the supply shop in town." you close the case carefully. "jungkook, this kit look just shy of a grand..."

"hey," he takes your chin, because jungkook knows that look. he smooths his thumb over your cheek, as if to smooth away the panic with it. "don't be silly. with your talent you were well overdue the fancy stuff anyway. i had the money and i spent it because that's what money's for. it's no big deal."

you lay your hand over his. "it's a big deal to me," you fist your hands in his thick jumper, pulling yourself up to him for a big kiss that's long and wet. it's not often that you throw yourself all over him so unabashedly so jungkook enjoys the attention, lets you nip at his bottom lip while you snake your hands up his hoodie. he's bare underneath. you instinctively trace at his happy trail, swallowing down the taste of him. "take your pants off."

"w-what?" you've already got his belt undone before he opens his eyes, popping his jeans open and loosening them around his hips with your thumbs hooked inside. he has a mole under his belly button that you are just dying to kiss, lowering yourself to sit back on the bed. "you don't have to do this, noona..." he says weakly, but his eyes are already sliding shut while you suck love bites above his underwear. he means it too. he really didn't get you the paint set for a lay.

and that's what makes you want to fuck him even more.

he sighs hard when you palm him over his boxers, tracing firm circles until you're met with a wet patch on the fabric. "i've been using watered down acrylic for almost a month. do you know what that's like for someone who works almost exclusively with oils? fucking horrible, that's what. so let me celebrate," you yank his jeans down under his ass, giving it a light squeeze before pulling him in by the elastic of underwear so that you can open your mouth wide over him atop the fabric, let him feel the heat of your breath over his cock before sucking until you taste pre-cum. only you could get him from zero to a hundred in a few minutes. jungkook gives in, lacing his fingers through your damp hair so that he can buck into your face insistently. he releases a salacious whine, which he isn't used to doing.

you're at the perfect height to have him in your mouth while he's standing and you're sat on the bed, not that you have time for anything else because you're already late. pulling his underwear down along with his jeans, you hum at the sight of jungkook's dripping erection, leaning in to catch the dribbles of pre-cum as if they were going to waste otherwise, and jungkook thinks the sight alone could kill him. he's flushed darker at his tip, and if you concentrate hard enough you could feel the vein on the underside pumping with excitement. you always had a way of eating cock that made him shiver; like you were greedy for it, selfish even. like you'd rather die than not taste every inch of him, every drop, so thirsty for his cream in your mouth that you didn't care what you had to do to get it. it's why he often pushed your head away, not ready to finish so soon, but it's also why he becomes putty in your hands, a slave to your mouth. like it's your cock and he just happens to be attached to it. you're not a lewd girl so he never expected it of you. maybe that's why it delights him so.

the head of jungkook's manhood is swollen, almost bulbous, flushed such a deep red it could kiss violet. you take him in your hand, use your thumb to rub up his length, the soft curve allowing for some gentle pressure at the base. was it possible to be in love with a cock? that's how it felt, and you had never felt this way before. you can't even hide your pleasure when you take the tip in your mouth, rubbing him along the pad of your tongue first before sucking him all the way in. jungkook squirms, tries not to rut his hips but it's impossible, your other hand venturing down to give his balls a gentle fondle. you hum around him as you do, determined to suck every bead of cum out of him. jungkook groans so hard he blushes all the way up to his ears and down the back of neck, sweating profusely now. he's not new to letting girls take the reigns but with you it felt so...invigorating. fresh.

he trembles when you gag around him, watching the saliva and pre-cum accumulate around your chin. your lashes are so long and pretty from this angle. jungkook knows he's a goner once you start to bob your head, wetting the length of him with as much saliva as you can muster. it comes off in a string when you pull away to look at him, cleaning your lips with your tongue. "where do you want to finish, kook-ah?"

it's usually tits. for the sheer visual of course, because they're his weakness. but jungkook knows how much you adore it when he fills your mouth and lets you swallow his load whole, the taste alone so euphoric he can see the whites of your eyes sometimes. and so, with much difficulty, he replies while you twirl your tongue around his leaking tip. "m-mouth. please..."

you don't reply; only smile triumphantly before closing your mouth around his head again and sucking the life out of him. jungkook is vocal, whimpering and moaning and thrusting into your mouth so his belt buckle clicks rhythmically. knowing his answer his answer succeeded in pleasing you made the entire thing that much more overwhelming. jungkook wills himself to look down, seeing your hard nipples through your shirt, a tiny detail but evidently his demise; ropes of his cum fill your mouth, hot and sticky with a noticeable tang you could never get tired of. you keep swallowing, lapping up the remnants long after jungkook has ridden through his high, beginning to writhe from the over-stimulation but he doesn't dare push you away if only to look at you sat there with his dick in your mouth for a few more seconds.

when you finally pull back, swiping at the pre-cum on your chin with your finger and sucking it like pastry cream. he almost passes out. "you should buy me art supplies more often."

"are you kidding?" he's still panting when he climbs on top of you, pushing your giggling form to lie underneath him while he tugs your top up and plays with your breasts; first with his hands, then with his mouth. they're so warm and soft under his lips, the act hardly even sexual but idle. comforting. it feels so nice you squeak when you feel his teeth graze over the puckered skin. "next time i'm getting you a whole studio. or a fucking museum."

"so do you have any explanation for being over an hour late?" jimin examines himself in his wardrobe mirror while you cross your legs on the end of his bed amidst the plastic covered clothing. you try to be as collected as possible but jimin could catch your fidgeting a mile away. "because i had to ask tae for his opinions on these jeans while you were gone, and he was honest. too honest," he studies his body's profile. "do i really have a bubble butt?"

"i just overslept," you say simply, examining him with a finger to your lips. "and definitely not. you're flatter than a naan. those jeans are just creating assets out of nowhere. which is a good thing!"

"and how would you know? does that mean you've been looking?" jimin teases, not even warning you before tugging his tee off from the back in that rough way that boys do. you busy yourself with looking for a shirt to pair his pants with because you know jimin is toned and firm and wonderfully tanned with a smooth chest you used to exclusively fall asleep on. you don't need reminding. "are you shy, ____?"

"do you want me to be shy?" you're both caught off guard by the challenge.

jimin isn't sure whether to be amused or excited but takes the sweater you throw him without comment. "hm, looks a little big."

"you like oversized," you offer. "but you have another jumper just like that."

he holds up the garment and squints. "i do?"

"the grey one," you go to his wardrobe to fetch it, sifting through the various hung clothes before pulling it out. "with the puffy sleeves, see? not worth it if you ask me. what about this navy one?" you pull out one of the new tees from the pile. "i love this colour on you."

you look up to see his perfect smile. "i'll remember that."

you avoid his gaze. "you can wear it to that thing on friday," he watches you scurry back to your seat on the bed again, perching on the end while you wait for him to change with your eyes closed. it's so endearing and innocent he can't stop smiling at you through the mirror. "seulgi and jisoo seem pretty keen on going now, too. what did you tell them?"

"the same thing i told everyone: free drinks and free food," he pulls on the navy shirt and you accidently catch him, unintentionally lingering on his nipples. they're bigger than jungkook's but the same rich, delicious brown. you start to think about this morning and suddenly you clamp your thighs shut. "the guy's loaded, how many more times do i have to say it? and now that seulgi and jisoo are going there's really no reason why you shouldn't either."

you sigh. "jimin, you don't even know this guy. how can you be a walking advert for his party if you don't even-"

"i totally know him!" jimin looks offended, nose all crinkled. "you know irene?"

you perk up hopefully. "...yeah, actually. we went to hers a while ago, right?"

"right! well it's her sister's ex-boyfriend's neighbour's cousin's gym buddy!"

"...you are un-fucking-believable."

"but i'm yours," his palms are suddenly planted firmly on your knees like he always does to get your attention, forcing you to look at him when he shoves them apart slightly. it's a mirror-image of jungkook from this morning after he got you naked, but this time it's jimin's musk and plush lips and hooded eyes that don't falter for even a second. he takes the opportunity while you're quiet, his thumb rubbing circles on the fabric of your leggings. his signature move in the wearing-you-down process. "come with us, babe. you know i wouldn't ask if i didn't think you'd have fun."

"okay..." you say finally. his lips are nearly berry pink. has he been biting them?

jimin pulls back, satisfied. "namjoon and yoongi are going, too. so it's not like you won't know anyone."

namjoon and yoongi means jungkook wouldn't miss it, he always tags along. so seulgi and jisoo really weren't joking when they mentioned he'd be their ride. it's the first time you'd both be somewhere public together since your little escapade started, so you weren't sure how to feel. would you just pretend to be friends? weren't you just friends? would you mingle with namjoon and yoongi like you usually would given they're in his circle? avoid him completely? ride with jimin instead of carpool?

would jungkook get with other girls?

you feel small all of a sudden, stamping down the feeling by opening another plastic covered item of clothing. instead of thinking about your unspoken arrangement with jungkook it felt better just to avoid the entire thing and save yourself the headache. whatever you had going right now was working and it was good, great even. so why mess with it?

before you know it, taehyung is bursting into the room to flop beside you. he twists himself to throw his legs over your thighs without missing a beat, head hanging slightly off the bed when he looks at jimin. "you told him to keep the jeans? seriously, _____?"

"i think they look nice."

"thank you!"

"and i want to borrow them."

"...what?"

"i don't understand why this is taking so long," jungkook complains from under the pillow on his face. he's sprawled out across your bed under an array of tops, skirts, dresses, tights, you name it. he no longer cared. seulgi was doing her eyebrows in her compact mirror on the floor, her makeup surrounding her in a cult-like circle while jisoo was painting her nails on your desk chair, sitting nice and still while you waved her hair with a straightener. it had already been over an hour since jungkook arrived to pick you all up and since then he's fallen asleep, made a snack and watched two episodes of naruto on his phone. "you said to pick you guys up at seven. what's the point if you weren't even ready?"

"when girls say seven they don't actually mean seven, jungkookie," jisoo blows her pinky fingernail dry.

"i just don't get how there's so much to do," he grumbles, knowing better than to reach over and inspect the array of hair products and cosmetics. the three of you kicked up a fuss when he dropped an eyeliner an hour or so ago. "guys just wash their pits, maybe their balls. throw on some lynx and leave."

"and that's why you are the inferior species," seulgi says from behind her mirror. "but maybe you'll survive, jeon. you actually use soap for one thing."

"that's because he doesn't like strong smells," you say absently while parting the last layer of jisoo's hair. "he won't even let me near him if i come back from the studio without a shower."

jungkook splutters with embarrassment when the girls laugh and coo at him. "i told you, the paint smell gives me a headache!"

"speaking of headaches," seulgi gives jisoo an evil, conniving smirk from across the room. "guess who's not coming tonight!"

jisoo rolls her eyes. "if you say taehyung i'm gonna-"

"please! everyone and their mother knows you and tae are extinct. i'm talking about namjoon and yoongi," seulgi looks at her mischievously. "think about it, ____ already gives us a way in. free drinks, fancy house, unfamiliar faces...i heard this rich-kid even has a patio. this is our shot."

jisoo stands up abruptly. "then i need my slutty blouse."

"again, you mean my slutty blouse," you pout.

jungkook lifts the pillow from his face to look at you. "you have a slutty blouse?" the girls ignore him while they filter out of the room in search for it, because it takes an extra pair of hands when it comes to navigating jisoo's wardrobe. jungkook throws the pillow aside, his hair is a bit dishevelled from lying down, but he manages to pull off the style well even in a smart-casual, silk maroon button down and black jeans. not forgetting his array of silver earrings and rings, doing nothing but adding to his devilish look especially when he looks at you so mischievously. you know then that he won't let this topic go without an answer. "why haven't i seen it? your slutty blouse?"

you roll your eyes, glad you're not facing him because it was harder to maintain resolve with eye contact. "what's the point? you barely let me keep a shirt on around you."

he snorts, resting his chin on his hand while he watches you. your already-flattering waistline was now mesmerising in your little dress. "i like boobs. sue me."

"my heart is racing, slick." you say dryly. before he rolls back, you swivel in your desk chair to look at him. "so what's the deal?"

jungkook pops an eye open. "deal?"

"tonight," you gesture between you. "i just think that we should, you know. make sure we're on the same page."

"oh," he shrugs nonchalantly. "well, we're friends. do what you want."

you nod quietly, not exactly satisfied but you let it go. it's not that you expected much else from him so you couldn't say you were disappointed; jeon jungkook doesn't do serious. you knew that going into all of this. you gave up hobi - or rather hobi gave up on you - being well aware of this. in your heart you knew it was more complicated than that, but if it made him feel better about the whole idea by acting like strangers around other people you could accept that. he'd come around eventually. the trust is what's important, the unspoken respect and connection that you both shared. knowing that was intact didn't leave room for much worry or doubt, but one thing did. "i gotta admit though...i'm gonna miss not having a bodyguard."

jungkook looks at you through the corner of his eye. he pauses, internally debating with himself before sitting up with a long sigh. he removes his watch, a big bulky silver one that he always kept on his person. "okay, let me tell you a secret," he looks at you seriously that his next words almost knock you over. "have you watched john tucker must die?"

it's so difficult not to wheeze with laughter, but jungkook looks very solemn so you forcefully hold it in. "yeah, when i was thirteen. like most people. why?"

"because that thing with the watch," he takes your hand, slipping the timepiece over your wrist. "you know near the end, where he gives her his watch? that shit works. wards off the assholes, i mean. at least most of them," it's weighty and far too big, just barely hanging onto your wrist without slipping off completely. it didn't go with the outfit you had planned at all and bordered on uncomfortable but your stomach flickers with butterflies anyway; the paints, now his watch. it meant something, right? still, it's hard to see past such a juvenile concept, which at this point was the norm when it came to jungkook. "the second most guys see this they won't even try approaching you. like vampires and garlic. jimin and vegetables."

"are you kidding?" his expression remains resolute. "jungkook, that was a movie. from like, ten years ago. about sadistic white kids who most likely peaked in high school!"

"the principle is the same!" he argues, so fervent in his expression it's adorable. "just wait and see, you'll get significantly less trouble tonight."

you find yourself smiling playfully. "and if i don't?"

"you can paint me nude like in titanic, and i'll tattoo it right here," he points to the empty space of skin on the inside of his wrist, the same place he showed you forever ago in the library. even now he was reluctant to cover the area to officially complete his sleeve which was symbolic in itself, so it was an awfully big gamble. closest to his hand and in the eye of others, jungkook knows that whatever he decides to tattoo there would be his most high-profile piece. which is how you know he is unwavering in confidence.

you squint at him daringly. "you wouldn't."

"and if you're wrong," he continues with a cheeky grin that he tries hard to reign in. his teeth sink into his bottom lip so you're staring at the mole beneath it when he talks. "you can finally wear those vibrating panties for me with that slutty blouse of yours."

if you paid better attention, you would realise that you knew this neighbourhood. but you're strapped into the passenger's seat of jungkook's eyesore of a truck, seulgi and jisoo screaming along the words to destiny's child with all the windows rolled down. the night air is wonderfully cool for once, fanning through the back of your neck while you soak up in this feeling. laughing with jungkook next to you, blasting out seulgi's playlist, twitching whenever jisoo tries reaching one of those high notes that she frankly cannot; this could work. you turn to look at jungkook between songs, very nearly getting caught up in the need to tell him that.

his sleeves are rolled up the elbows, muscles flexing every time he changes gear. jungkook gives you a salacious flick of his brow when he catches you staring at him. usually he could hold your hand while waiting at the traffic lights but tonight he doesn't, and you know it's almost certainly because jisoo and seulgi would see. or anyone for that matter. it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, has you sitting tucked against your side of the car in deep thought. until you lift your eyes and notice the string of pretty houses passing you, with gates and neatly cut hedges and perfect mailboxes and...oh.

"thank god! i thought we'd never get here," seulgi's already popping open the car door before jungkook has the hand-break on, eager to scout the overly clean street.

jisoo eagerly scrambles after her, still buzzing from pre's. "holy fuck, would you look at this place? that tree is literally ten times prettier than i am!"

"noona," jungkook's voice is laced with concern when he notices how shell-shocked you look, staring straight ahead as if scared to look at the house. "hey, are you okay?"

your head starts nodding automatically but jungkook knows you're lying. but jungkook also knows it isn't his place to ask why, so exits the car at the same time as you do, leaving a considerable distance from you when you make your way up the fancy porch to the girls. in fact, jungkook is nowhere to be seen the second the three of you enter the vast foyer. not that you have any time to notice, your stomach tight with discomfort. even jisoo notices how clammy your hand is when they tug you over to greet irene and her group and then some of seulgi's graphic design friends. you are too on-edge to offer anything more than a thin-lipped smile, fingers gripping into seulgi's hand instinctively but you so, so wished it was jimin's. or even jungkook's.

it's just like how you remember it. the fancy vase on the middle of the table, the pretty white of the skirting board. the third step from the bottom of the staircase still creaked like it used to, and you knew if you lifted the corner of the rug in the dining room there would still be a wine stain. it's hard to make out the other little specifics because of the dim lights and chatter and alcohol but nothing has changed. maybe that picture in the hallway, or the certificates framed on the mantle piece. but everything else about this house is still polished, elegant, pristine. perfect. everything you are not, just like last time.

so you do everything you can to keep yourself occupied and move systematically around the house while you mingle. maybe with a bit of luck and if you played your cards right, you could avoid the one person who you would do anything to pass up a confrontation with.

after hours of making small talk and hiding behind the watch jungkook gave you every time you so much as pass a man, you almost cry in relief when you see hobi chatting happily on the landing of the first floor. usually your sort-of-ex wouldn't elicit such a positive response from you, but you and hobi were still close after calling it quits, so much so that you can't help but rush to his waiting arms. his stare lingers on you when you pull back from him with slightly glazed eyes and a strained smile, nodding to his friends before turning away to hook his elbow securely around your neck. "everything okay?"

"yes! yeah, it's great...i'm great," your teeth grind absently. "i'm happy to see you here, hobi. i've missed you, how've you been?"

"really good," he says, smiling at you like he always did. it wasn't one of those replies that he exchanged with you for pleasantries sake; hobi genuinely meant it. "and how about you?" there's a pause when you look away, unsure how to answer him with a single sentence. "lemme guess...boy trouble?"

at this point you're too tipsy to hold back your wild laughter. "something like that!"

"do i have to ask which one?" hoseok laughs back.

you push him playfully. "you're only teasing because you've literally been the only decent man in my life and you know it!"

"this is true," he runs his hand through his hair confidently. "but jimin can still earn that spot back, right?"

you tilt your head in question. "what do you mean?"

hoseok blinks at you, the smile dropping quickly from his face. the only time you'd seen him like that was when he broke up with you, civilly and maturely on his sofa after dinner. he licks his lips, as if he's not sure whether to believe you or go through with what he actually wants to say. but you would never lie, so that must mean...hoseok sighs. his hair covers his brows, but you can still see them tightly wound with concern when he touches your arm. "____, did jimin not tell you?"

"tell me what?" you ask, more confused than ever.

"well, if it isn't tinkerbell!" is all your hear before you're being picked up and carried down the stairs in one swift movement. normally you'd panic, as any woman would, but namjoon makes sure to lift you so that you can see his face grinning up at you. yoongi, on the other hand, waves at hobi while you're halfway down the staircase, your laughter already ringing so loud from their immaturity you can only just hear him yell back at hoseok. "sit tight hobi-yah, i need a chat with my fake girlfriend and then i'll return her in mint condition!"

"a chat?" you giggle profusely when namjoon drops you on one of the sofa's in the poolroom, which stank of weed men's body spray. their domain. it was exactly what you needed, their brainless banter and drinking games and bickering to keep you distracted and entertained. "am i in trouble, fake boyfriend?"

"that depends," yoongi flops down next to you. "are you gonna tell us the names of your super-hot friends or are you going to make us beg like dogs?"

"i think the title of fake boyfriend should go to me now," namjoon butts in, wedging himself between you and yoongi clumsily so the older boy almost goes flying off the other side. "you can't be the fake boyfriend if you can't carry the fake girlfriend, which hyung had to ask me to do-"

"what kind of dumbass fucking rule is that?" yoongi protests, face scrunched in disbelief. "you can't just make up fake boyfriend rules and-"

"why not? you made up the concept of a fake boyfriend," namjoon turns back to you. "consider my case. i am taller than hyung so i can reach stuff for you, also i have resting bitch face so guys won't bother you. hyung, in comparison, looks like a marshmallow. i'm also a vegetarian-"

"great, so you won't eat her. bravo," yoongi is back by your side again. "i only asked him to carry you because someone made me drink straight gin on the way over here and honestly i couldn't guarantee we'd both make it down those stairs alive if i picked you up, tinkerbell-"

"why does anyone have to pick me up?" you laugh, bouncing up from the sofa to grab the cues from the pooltable. "how about this - whoever wins this game gets seulgi and jisoo's phone and also the fake boyfriend award. what do you say?"

"do you even know how to play?" namjoon teases.

you stop clearing the table to gawk at him. "what, pool? no! i meant beer pong!"

"i'm way too old for this," yoongi sighs, but he's already getting up to open a fresh six-pack.

"okay, what the fuck happened?" jisoo and seulgi come out nowhere while you're on your way back from the bathroom, dragging you into the spacious conservatory. they knew you well enough to know that you even though you appeared relaxed you were far from it, hovering over you while you're backed into a corner. you're thankful at least for the sturdiness of the wall behind you, how cool it is against your skin. "did jungkook propose to you in the car or something? talk about deer in headlights! you've been looking over your shoulder every half a second since we got here."

"yeah, why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" seulgi dabs the sweat on your forehead from a napkin. "at first i just thought you needed to throw up or something."

"because, um..." you scratch your head, brain finally switching on after hours of avoiding the topic. the questions they had, the questions of your own were now piling up as well, and it was too much. you reach for the closest drink, downing it straight with no mixer. the girls share a glance, but wait for you to continue. "so...ha, this is gonna sound super hilarious...!"

jisoo plucks the empty glass from you. "spill."

you struggle to swallow, throat desperately dry while you pour yourself another drink without really even knowing what it is. "remember that guy i told you about? my ex-boyfriend from like, years ago back when i was a bio-med major?"

"the one who broke up with you once you dropped out and left home?" seulgi's mouth upturns. "yeah, i remember wanting to punch him when you told us about it. who the fuck dumps their girlfriend after she gets disowned? he should be carted off a cliff with your used-be family of snakes and a-"

jisoo darts her head around to survey the room. "wait, is he here? oh fuck, did you see him when we came in?"

"no, but i probably will," you gulp down another scathing glass of whatever. it burns, and you like it. "because this is his house."

the pair of them chorus. "what?!"

you raise your glass mockingly, laughing but also slightly on the verge of tears. "yup! see over there? that's where i used to have dinner with his parents and that's where we'd have drinks before brunch," you tap the skinny glass in your hand so it pings. "and these are the fancy glasses that his aunt got his parents as a wedding gift that never ever get used so i'm like, eighty-per-cent sure they're out of town and have no idea about this party right now which is so not like h-

"brunch?" jisoo's face twists in disgust.

"they're rich! that's what rich people do! they have brunch!"

"so all this time the ex-boyfriend you never talked was fucking loaded? and you never thought to tell us?"

"i didn't think it was important," you say honestly.

jisoo stares at you in disbelief. "isn't his dad like an astronaut or something?"

"no, no, an astrophysicist-"

she covers her eyes. "oh my god you fucked the astronaut's kid..."

"right there, actually," you point into the doorway of the spare room down the hall. "we had to be super quiet because either his parents were home or like, cleaners or butlers or one of his mum's business associates," you sigh hard at the memory. "the one time we almost fucked in the coat room, jin said it was immature and unsanitary because all the coats come from outside but it was my birthday so i was really-"

"wait, hold on," seulgi steadies a hand on your shoulder and you notice that your tongue is already feeling fuzzy. "how did you not know this was his place? how did jimin not know? there's no way he would have invited you to your ex-boyfriend's fucking party let alone-"

"his name is jin," you say finally. "seokjin. i doubt jimin even knows his name," you chew your lip nervously. "i haven't been here in so long, and jungkook was driving and... i..."

"right, well," jisoo still looks around out of habit. "you gotta tell us your game plan, pronto. because if you want us to pull you out of here before the bastard sees you and sets you off on an emotional breakdown, we have to go now. what does this jin guy even look like?"

"fuck what he looks like, we're leaving before we find out," seulgi says firmly, grabbing you by the shoulders and steering you into the kitchen while jisoo trails behind, already rooting around in your purse in search of your phone to call jimin. there wasn't a lot he could do, but if there was anyone who would know what you'd need in this situation it would be him. it was close to midnight so who knows where he could be by now, or how long it would take to track him down in this mansion. just seeing his face would make you feel better. and as if the universe heard you, the three of you turn the corner to see the only face on earth that could make you feel worse.

"hey," you turn at the familiar voice with seulgi and jisoo following suit, your legs threatening to give out under you. seokjin stands behind you, even more handsome than you remember. every feeling you had, every pent up emotion that had been building from the years of ruminating and overthinking frazzled away into a numbness you couldn't explain. seokjin smiles at you, softly and with kind eyes. "fancy seeing you here."

you try to smile back at him. "you look good, oppa."

jin's smile grows oh-so slightly, giving a polite nods to your shell-shocked friends before leaning close to your ear. "can we talk?"

there are very few people in the back of the garden, which is where jin takes you. the bed of roses are a different colour from what you remember, but the grass is the same. the line of trees at the back, the acorns and perfectly maintained fences. there are solar-powered lights lining the pebbled pathway that you and seokjin walk down, where you used to walk down hand in hand years ago. it's the most romantic place in the house, which was why it had been your favourite. you wonder if he remembered that, if that's why he brought you down here. like a final goodbye.

but no, that was not seokjin's intention. instead, he stares down at his pressed shirt or up at the stars, in deep contemplation. there's something about you now that he can't quite place, something that wasn't there when you were together. a calmness, an inner peace. to him you were still the girl that chased feelings of gratification with her head in a sketchbook, but that girl only lived in his memory now. there was a light in your eyes that he wasn't accustomed to.

"you look good," his voice is soft. "really good, ____. happy i mean."

you smile to yourself, thinking of all the wonderful people in your life. "thank you. i am happy," you pause. "and you? are you happy, seokjin? i hope that you are."

he stares at you, waits for even a grain of insincerity to show up but it doesn't. he rubs the back of his neck, thoughtful. "you're still so kind. so good inside. how did you keep that?"

"um, well," you shrug. "if you want me to be a bitch, i can do that too."

he laughs, his teeth shiny and perfect as always. "that'd be easier. but that's not you," he can't stop looking at you, and it's just as impossible to read him now as it was back then. he takes a while to mull over your question, finding it harder to be honest with himself than with you. "i'm not sure if i'm happy. honestly? every time i get close to it i think about what i did to you and..."

you look down. "you don't...we don't have to talk about that."

"ya, are you kidding?" he stops in the path to stare at you. "of course we do." you forgot how tall jin was. his hair is styled differently, away from his forehead so more of his pretty face is on show. he looks so much like his mother. you were never really angry at seokjin for leaving you, just disappointed. and he knew that, which is why he couldn't just let you leave his house without freeing himself of this agonising guilt. "i'm sorry, _____. what i did...it was horrible and wrong and heartless, and i think about it all the time. how much i know it hurt you, how alone you must have felt-"

"i wasn't alone," you stand up straighter at the thought of jimin.

"no i know, i just," seokjin sighs, not used to all this. "i shouldn't have broken up with you. at least, when i did. it was too much for you to handle and-"

"i mean, clearly it wasn't," you fold your arms. "otherwise i wouldn't be standing here, happier than ever. you said it yourself."

and there it is, the thing you had been dreading the second you stepped foot in this house. that look on seokjin's face, his lips together and his eyes regarding you carefully: pity. seokjin pitied you, even though he tried hard to hide it and even though you tried hard to avoid it from happening. it always ended up here, him looking at you like a basket case and you trying to hold back the tears of fury and fear and hurt. "i hear you're close with jeon jungkook now."

you scoff in disbelief. "are you serious? are you fucking serious?" he doesn't respond, because jin never did approve of your swearing. which makes you swear more. "you are fucking off on one if you think i'm going to talk to you about him of all things, jin-"

"you're smarter than that, ____," seokjin steps closer to you, his warm hand resting on your arm. "no one else can say that about you-"

"excuse me?"

"-but i can. because i know you," he finishes, skin perfect under the moonlight. "and you're way too smart for a guy like him."

you pluck his hand from your arm and for the first time you don't feel the need to explain yourself. you don't feel the need to cry or fight your case or claw desperately for a glimmer of approval or even acceptance. you look at seokjin's face, studying it for the last time. maybe if you tried harder you could have been good enough for jin, but you don't want to find out anymore. "please understand that you don't know me. you never did. goodnight, seokjin."

"and where the fuck have you been?" jungkook whirls his head around to seulgi and jisoo, stomping into the spare room. "we're gonna have to put a tracker on you one of these days, jungkookie."

"what's wrong?" he says, already cowering away in case seulgi goes for his ear again.

instead she grabs his chin and turns his head to the window while jisoo points to the garden outside. "that."

and sure enough, there you were. standing down the end of pretty garden path talking to a guy in obnoxiously expensive armani amidst porch lights looking like something out of a romance novel. jungkook doesn't feel anything but the overwhelming desire to turn away, which is what he does before taking another swing of beer. "what about it?"

"that's ____," jisoo continues to point. "talking to seokjin, her ex-boyfriend."

"ex-boyfriend?"

"yeah well," seulgi leans against the window pane with folded arms. "don't look so glum, she didn't tell us until like, a year into living together. she never talked about him because he like, broke her heart beyond repair or whatever," seulgi glances at jungkook. "he dumped her after her folks sent her packing, told her the only reason why they were together was because their parents got along at work and bla bla bla so when she decided to go after creative arts, they had nothing in common anymore. so he dropped her. it was right before ____ met jimin. apparently she was a total wreck."

jungkook sits back, takes his time finishing his beer. it definitely made sense, the way you always skated around the topic of past relationships even during pillow talk. he had just assumed that you wanted to keep all that stuff separate from him, which was probably part of the reason too. still, if what seulgi and jisoo were saying was true, it would mean that his rough-and-tumble self would be the perfect rebound in comparison to prim and proper kim seokjin. the kind of thing that good girls like you get off on. but it's not like jungkook has any right to point fingers, everyone had their pasts. so all he does is burp and open another can of drink after saying, "yikes."

"yikes?" jisoo pokes him. "that's all you have to say? yikes?"

he looks uninterested. "what else do you want me to say?"

"oh i don't know, that maybe you care? or that you'll at least beat him up or something, jungkook-style?"

"she'll be fine," jungkook wets his lips, suddenly desperate for a cigarette. "she has my watch."

you thought that after stumbling into the house and pouring yourself a couple of drinks you would feel better. better as in, numb from everything and pliant enough to be strapped into the backseat of jimin's car or some uber and taken home in one piece within the hour. but that's not how you feel at all. if anything, the talk with seokjin invigorated you beyond reason. suddenly, in the haze of the night and your life and the fucking whirlwind that had been the past few years, everything seemed a lot clearer. you didn't know what was going to happen or where you were gonna end up but you knew what you wanted.

who you wanted.

it takes you a while to track down jungkook, even though it was well into the night and some people had already left, the house was still relatively full. jungkook isn't alone when he sees you teeter into the room. he looks around briefly for seulgi or jisoo or anyone to grab you so he wouldn't have to. jungkook wasn't good at the whole comforting thing, crying girls talking about their dickhead ex-boyfriends not at all part of his skill set. he worked much better a week from now when girls are ready for angry, revenge sex. but then he sees the way you approach him, his watch hanging like a stamp of ownership on your wrist, and jungkook can't take his eyes off you.

"baby?" he coos softly when you sit next to him, no longer paying his friends any attention on the other side of the sofa. half the people in this room were either wasted or high or both, or at least that's what jungkook tells himself when you curl into him, pawing at side. you're not nearly as drunk as you look. nor are you crying, or seething or like anything he's ever seen. the pure lust in your eyes is so palpable he almost feels uncomfortable with other people that aren't him witnessing it.

you kiss the mole under his mouth, soft, chaste. "now?"

"what?" he blinks, surprised at himself for not pulling away from you. that's when jungkook feels your hand on his thigh, palm rubbing further and further inwards. you couldn't have noticed anyone else in the room if you tried. you, the girl who squirms every time he kisses you in private. there was no one else on the planet you could have wanted over than him, and jungkook knew in that second if he didn't leave with you now you'd sit on his lap there and then. and he'd let you.

"please," you stare at his lips, your skin buzzing under his gentle touch while he moves your hair aside. "now. i want you now, jungkook. i don't want anyone else."

"okay," he murmurs, taking your chin and kissing you hard. you're so eager for him you open your mouth almost instantly, jungkook's entire body heating up like wildfire from it. jimin, hoseok, kim fucking seok-whatever, none of it mattered. jungkook doesn't care about the way his friends jeer when he pushes his tongue into your mouth, doesn't care about all the people that are probably looking at him right now. he forcibly pulls himself away, taking you by the hand and lifting you up from the low couch. "okay."

he thought getting you to his truck would be easy enough, but easy is the last thing you are tonight. you kiss him in the hallway, on the stairs. you kiss jungkook's neck and jaw and behind his ear, anywhere you can reach. he's never seen you so wild for him, so relentless and sure of yourself. his resolve shatters when he tries to placate you with a kiss, holding your chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger when he pulls away only for you to tilt your head and take his thumb into your mouth. he groans at the sight, the feeling, the act alone, the way you stare up at him with your big beautiful eyes. you were not leaving this house without having had his cock in you first.

"you're so difficult," he gasps, irritated and painfully horny as he pulls you into the nearest room he can find. it's a bit smaller than the others, and judging by the piles of hangers in the corner and the very modest little desk it appeared to be a coatroom. right next to the main room and the door closest to the top of the hallway, there really wasn't a more high profile place to fuck in but it was empty so that was enough. jungkook uses every last bit of sense he has to turn the lock while simultaneously trying to remain calm under your wandering hands, squeezing and rubbing every part of him you could.

"sorry," you say between pants, letting jungkook twist you with your back to the door while he kisses you harshly. and you genuinely are sorry. it's not at all like you to make a scene like this but you just couldn't wait. it had to be here and it had to be now and it had to be jungkook. he has your wrists pinned either side of you as if punishment for all your groping, his hips pinning yours still as well. you can feel his bulge against you, the heat of his palms against your veins. jungkook nips at your lip, not giving you a chance to catch your breath, before he's leaning back in for more.

you moan in euphoria when he lets go of your wrists to grab your waist, his teeth against the most sensitive part of your neck. his lips stay attached there as he pulls you to the little clerk table, easily lifting you onto it's edge while he unzips the back of your dress. but it's slightly fitted, and you'd rather die than waste a few precious minutes taking it off. so you give jungkook a long, pleading kiss before turning with your back to his chest, bending yourself over the lip of the table. "fuck me like this."

he groans, because he prefers to look at your face during the act, but he also knows what you're like when you want him from behind. greedy and insatiable. but you're being so good for him, rubbing your ass into his crotch as if to ask for permission. like he could never deny you. so jungkook takes you by the waist, pushing your hair to one side so he can fold his lips over your neck permanently. he slips his hands underneath the skirt of your dress, shaky fingers feeling for the band of your panties before sliding them down. he leaves them above your knees but you won't have it, kicking them off completely to stand with your knees further apart while you arch forward for him. jungkook's chest is heaving when he scoops the garment off the floor, stuffing it into his back pocket for safe keeping.

"please please please," you chant, bending over as far as the table will allow, arching yourself as much as your spine permits.

jungkook swears loudly when he touches you. you've never been this wet before, so swollen and fucking ready for him. your copious amount of slick coats the back of your ass and thighs, staining the front of his now-untucked shirt and pants too. he knows that you're good and wet but jungkook can't help himself from slipping his fingers inside you, two quickly and easily becoming three. your cry is guttural he almost wonders if it's you. he barely has to move, only gently spreading his fingers before you're practically crying for more. if he lifts your skirt up, he can see how easily the digits disappear inside you. he's so hard it hurts.

"please, kook-ah," you're on the verge of tears, face crumpled and eyes watering while bucking back against his hand. "jungkook, i can't...i can't wait. please."

"shh, okay," he hushes you gently, kissing up the side of your neck. it's agony for both of you when he withdraws his fingers, but thankfully jungkook is nimble with his belt buckle and jeans, shoving his cock against your wetness before he can think straight. the sensation makes the pair of you writhe, and it's only when he looks down to see his bare cock rubbing through your slit does he jump back with alarm. "baby, fuck i...i don't have..."

"it's okay," you say it so quickly his head spins. you push back, seeking contact, coaxing him. "i want to feel you anyway."

"but," he stammers, sweating so much his hair is starting to dampen on his forehead. jungkook refused to fuck unprotected. it was against his self-imposed rule, the only one that was still standing when it came to you, but all he could think about was how badly he wanted to be inside you and how badly you wanted the same thing. he had never, ever fucked raw before and it felt like a decision that shouldn't be made haphazardly in a coatroom with you bent over in front of him.

"kookie," you snap him out of his trance by turning over your shoulder uncomfortably to kiss him, gently and with care to remind him who he's with. remind him that you're not going anywhere. his lips are so soft, so pliant for you. jungkook leans his forehead against your hair and groans when he realises that his cock has navigated itself back to the opening of your pussy, as if making the decision for him. "i don't want anyone else's cum in me. only yours."

"fuck, you're killing me," jungkook whines, leaning into you with defeat. he breathes you in, the smell of your shampoo and perfume, feels you ground him with your hand laying over his that is currently holding you at the waist.

it's like you take that step forward together, the gentle push of jungkook's bare tip inside you. you practically vibrate with desire, jungkook's teeth sinking into your exposed shoulder as he wills himself to stay in the moment. slowly, slowly he slides in until he's sheathed inside your silken walls, hot and tight and more perfect than he could have ever dreamed. jungkook's legs shake with the intensity of pleasure, his hold on you the only thing keeping him up. you're a mess in front of him, chest heaving and ass digging back into him in a desperate attempt to get him to move, all the while whining pathetically. so jungkook draws out, shoves his cock back in roughly so you don't expect it. the feeling is visceral, the pleasure unbearable. jungkook fucks you hard, nice and deep which is why you favoured this position. every thrust is stronger than the one before it, his balls slapping into your clit in a ricochet of pleasure. his rhythm is perfect, his cock, his angle, everything. the old table knocks against the wall with every passing minute, some coats slipping from their hangers from the way it vibrates through the little room.

jungkook flips your skirt up, the carnal desire to watch himself disappear into your pussy unlike anything he's ever felt. for once, you cannot silence your moans, no pillows or comforters to muffle the sounds. people are filing out of the house just outside the door, saying their goodbyes or maybe trying to find an empty room too. with the rhythmic banging and your unabashed cries of pleasure, there was no doubt everyone knew. an idea that would usually be lost on jungkook exhilarates him now. they all saw who you came in here with, who's fingers you had in your mouth. his thrusts unconsciously become rougher, your ass slapping wetly into his stomach with every stroke of his cock. it's more than enough to undo you, the gush of wetness from you coupled with your erotic mewls of pleasure causing jungkook's hips to stutter with excitement. he's so focused on fucking into you that the helpful thrust of your ass catches him by surprise, his vision going blurry as his orgasm begins to wash over him. although dripping with sweat, jungkook fucks himself through his climax as hard as he can manage, spilling into you with a low groan of bliss that's so loud he surprises himself. he can hear you hum in encouragement, your eyes closing happily at the feeling of his hot seed filling you. it's more than normal, causing jungkook to hiss at the sheer visual. cum was dribbling down your inner thigh, the squelch of it making you moan all over again. when his cock slips out, a rush of his cum follows, causing the pair of you to swear from the unexpected enjoyment of it all. sweat drips down jungkook's temple, his mouth dry as stares at your messy pussy while his fingers automatically start shovelling his cream back inside you. the sensation makes only ignites your second wave of pleasure even further, your ass arching for him all over again.

"i think i died," jungkook admits quietly, fingers still covered in the evidence of your coupling when you turn to kiss him with a smile. "that was so good, i think i. i think i fucking clocked out..."

"well clock back in," you say between deep breaths, fixing your skirt back down and smoothing out jungkook's shirt while he tucks his sticky self back into his pants. "because you have to drive us home and then keep doing that to me all night. okay?"

all jungkook can do is nod happily.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #bts au #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts fic #jungkook fic #jimin fic #jungkook college au #jimin college au #bts college au #myfic

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Sub Rosa [60]

ii. red queen

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: fighting, violence, angst.

Summary: You and Clarke adjust to your new life with your new family.

a/n: i wanna thank yall for all of the love recently! ive been dealing with a lot of personal stuff and have bad days, but then i log onto tumblr and see the sweetest messages from all of you and I start to feel better so thank you!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You and Clarke quickly agree that you should both teach Madi English. Though you both feel pretty comfortable with Trigedasleng, most of your friends and family don’t know it as well, and you want Madi to be able to communicate with them when you all eventually reunite. When you propose the idea to Madi, she seems eager to learn the language of the warriors. Most of your day is now spent watching Madi point to various objects as you and Clarke teach her the word in English.

One day after spending most of the morning teaching her, Madi drags you and Clarke down to the river, excitedly promising to teach the two of you something in return. Which is where you find yourself now, ankle deep in the water, the sun warming your back. Madi stands in the river between you and Clarke, a spear in her hand, eyes scanning the water around you. You and Clarke watch her closely, trying to take mental notes on her stance, her grip on the spear, her concentration, hoping to learn to catch fish the same way she does.

Madi spies an approaching fish, and she lunges, spearing it easily, holding it up for you and Clarke to admire. But neither of your eyes are locked on the fish, instead, they are locked on the chain around her neck, which wiggled free during her movements. There hangs a silver chain, a familiar small silver sun hanging from it, swinging around as Madi looks between you and Clarke in confusion. Clarke reaches out for it, trying to get a better look, but Madi scrambles away, still slightly distrustful of you both. She approaches Madi again, much slower this time, letting the young girl know she’s not a threat. Clarke eyes the necklace, checking it over, before whispering in shock. “It’s definitely mom’s. Where did you get this?”

Madi shakes her head at Clarke, not understanding, still working on speaking full sentences in English. You pull your own chain from beneath your shirt, showing her the silver moon, before pointing to the one around her neck. She looks down at it, starting to understand, and she whispers, “Maunon.”

Mountain Men. You look at Clarke, realization already hitting you. “The Mountain Men. You were wearing mom’s necklace when they took you.”

A memory comes rushing back to her, one you hadn’t heard before. “Lincoln told me they leave things everywhere when they disposed of it, but he said they usually stuck to the same few areas, and sometimes you could find some good stuff amongst the pile of discarded things.”

You shake your head in shock, staring at the necklace, the last one in the set from your father, now around the neck of the last child on Earth. You let out a short laugh of disbelief, “What are the odds?”

“It’s like it’s fate. We were supposed to find her.”

You point to the charm and Madi says, “Deimeika.”

You respond in English, “Sun.”

“Sun?” You nod, letting her know her pronunciation is correct, and she repeats, “Sun.”

You smile at Madi and she smiles back at you. “Our very own dazzling sun.”

Clarke pulls up her sleeve, revealing the single star charm from your father, and a second charm, a cluster of stars, handcrafted by Finn. When she shows it to Madi, the young girl says, “Skaifaya.”

“Stars.” Madi repeats the word back to you, and when you both nod in approval, you kneel beside her, holding out your moon necklace, completing the trio. “Natshana.”

“Moon.”

When Madi repeats the last word, you feel a strange rush of emotion, overcome by an overwhelming surge of love and adoration for your new found family. This next generation of women, the new trio of the sun, the moon, and the stars, who somehow found each other at the end of the world. You wish your dad was here to see it, to witness the legacy that he created and passed on to you and Clarke. You look at your family, a smile stretching across your face, and you whisper Clarke’s earlier words. “It’s fate.”

You drive the rover back towards Shallow Valley, home, nearly back from your multi day trip alone. You and Clarke agreed that the earlier trip to retrieve solar panels from Alie’s field needed to be done, both of you aware of how valuable the rover is to your survival. You volunteer to go alone, and Clarke stays behind with Madi, a back up plan established in case you don’t show up within four days of leaving. You also take your radio and the satellite dish, and Clarke keeps the one walkie talkie with her. Most of the trip takes you out of range of the walkie, but it gives you both an extra layer of assurance that you can reach out if something happens.

The trip, though, was uneventful. Boring, slightly lonely, but uneventful. Clarke and Madi made sure you had enough food and water for your trek through the desert, and the journey was a lot less awful than the last time you took it. You were able to easily retrieve the panels and attach them to a sled that Clarke rigged up for you, allowing you to safely drag the panels behind you instead of needing to carry them all the way back to the rover.

When you finally reached the vehicle, it was exactly where you left it, untouched, unbothered. You replaced the panels and put the extra panels in the back before hopping inside and beginning the drive back to your home. You spend most of the drive back talking on the radio to Bellamy, a habit that has stuck with you, even now. And though he never answers, it brings you comfort to talk to him, updating him on everything that has happened on the ground since he left.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you see the sign to the village, and you drive the last few feet into the village, parking in the center. Clarke and Madi must hear you approach, because they come running out of the house, grins on their faces. Madi tears across the field and jumps into your arms, squeezing you in a hug. She whispers into your hair, “I was afraid you weren't coming back.”

You pull away to look at her. “I wouldn't leave the two of you.”

“Good.”

You smile at your twin over Madi’s head and she smiles in return, happy to see you. You turn to the rover and sit Madi in the driver’s seat, her legs just shy of reaching the pedals. You marvel at her height, the few inches she’s grown since you and Clarke found her nearly two years ago. “You’ll be reaching the pedals in no time.”

“And then you’ll teach me?”

You turn to look at Clarke, leaving the decision ultimately up to her, knowing she’s more of Madi’s parental figure than you are. Clarke can't help but smile at Madi’s excitement. “Yes, then we’ll teach you.”

“Until then…” You motion for her to move over and she does, and you jump into the vehicle and pull her onto your lap. “I’ll push the pedals and you steer.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” You look at Clarke, reaching over to hold up Maya’s ipod. “Where to?.”

Clarke jogs over to the passenger seat and pulls herself inside, turning to look at you and Madi as you turn the rover on. “Wherever the road takes us.”

You sit at one of the tables in the middle of the village, slowly patching a hole in one of Madi’s shirts. The sun shines down on you through the trees, keeping you warm, but not uncomfortable, and all around you are the sounds of life in the woods. Bees buzzing, birds chirping, animals scurrying through the bushes. The sounds bring a smile to your face, reminding you of a time when you and Clarke stepped out of a lab, greeted by nothing but death.

As you start to reminisce, you see a flash of movement nearby, and you look up just in time to see Madi slinking your way. You can tell by the way she’s moving that she’s planning something, and you put the shirt down on the table, watching her in amusement as she gets closer. She stops behind one of the smaller houses and looks towards you, motioning for you to join her. You suppress your laughter as you walk over to join her, ducking behind a house, out of view.

“I want to prank Clarke.” She holds up a container of something black and liquidy. “With this.”

You dip your finger into the bowl and taste the liquid, lips puckering when you realize she picked some blackberries from the field, barely ripe, very tart. You smile and nod. “What do you have in mind?”

“Put it on my head and pretend I got hurt.”

You immediately shake your head. “If Clarke sees you bloody and thinks you’re dead, but then she finds out it’s a prank, she’ll definitely kill us both.”

“Fine, then we’ll put it on your head and pretend you got hurt.”

You smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

She leads you over to the clearing, out of view from the church, and directs you on how to lay. Once you’re positioned, she starts smearing and dripping the berry mixture onto your head, and you watch her as she works, face pulled into one of intense concentration. When she finishes, a grin spreads across her face, pleased with her work. “There. Now I’ll go get Clarke and tell her you got hurt, and you just lie very still.”

“Will do, boss.”

She stands and waits for you to close your eyes, so you do, rolling your head slightly to the side for dramatic effect. You hear her feet running away from you, followed by the sound of her retreating voice. “Clarke, Clarke, come quick, ani got hurt!”

You hear Clarke clamber out of the house, and you know exactly when she sees you because her footsteps quicken as she questions Madi. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know, she said she was going to check the traps and I went to clean the rover like you told me to. When I got back, I just found her here like this.”

You hear Clarke drop down beside you, and her fingers lift to your face, gingerly tipping your head to look for a wound. “Madi get me a cloth, I need to wipe some of this blood away.”

Madi runs off and you hear her return seconds later, musing, “Maybe something in the trap attacked her.”

“The traps are only big enough for squirrels and rabbits, they’d be too small to attack her.”

You have to work hard to hold back laughter as you imagine a squirrel and a rabbit cornering you and beating you up. As Clarke grabs the cloth from Madi, she must see something wrong because she mutters, “What’s all over your hands?”

You peek an eye open, Clarke turned away from you, staring down at Madi’s berry stained hands. Madi pulls her hand away, trying to keep the prank going, but Clarke grabs her wrist and stops her, peering at her finger to get a better look. The expression on her face is one of utter bewilderment, and you can't help the giggle that breaks free from your mouth, amused by the expression on your twin’s face. Clarke’s head whips towards you in shock, her face scrunching into annoyance when she sees you lying in the grass, laughing at her. Beside you, Madi is also giggling, pleased with the prank she played. Clarke glares at you both, “That’s not funny! I thought you were hurt!”

You sit up and run a finger through the berries on your head, licking the mixture off your finger to prove to Clarke it’s benign. “Just a few blackberries.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and stands, already over the two of you. “Just for that, you both have dinner and clean up duty for the next three days.”

You both start to protest, but she holds up her hand to stop you, adopting her very serious mom tone. “Nope, no complaints. You’ve had your fun, now get back to work.”

Madi turns and heads towards the rover, already obeying and returning to her earlier chores, and Clarke turns to you as she walks away, giving you a smile. You smile back, fighting back a giggle at how well she plays the parent, and Clarke hands you the cloth so you can clean up. “You’re trouble.”

You shake your head, wiping the berries from your face. “She’s trouble, and she drags me into it.”

Clarke snorts, “Yeah, I bet.”

The two of you exchange a serious look, staring hard at each other, but you both break quickly, falling into a fit of laughter. As her laughter dies down, she motions back towards the house, “I have to finish up inside.”

“Yeah, I was fixing Madi’s shirt.”

Clarke starts to walk away, heading back to the house, but she turns around and calls back, “Can't wait to see what you have planned for dinner.”

Your mouth drops, sure that she was joking earlier with the punishment. “I thought you were kidding!”

“Nope! Do the crime, you do the time!”

You laugh and shake your head, calling back, “Fine, but I’m making all the foods you hate!”

“Can't wait!”

You peer down at the scar on your arm, given to you by Madi, now completely healed. The scar crosses over part of the scar you got from Clarke’s helmet during Praimfaya, making an X on your skin. You shake your head, your body quickly becoming a roadmap of scars from the various wounds you’ve received since landing on the ground. You’re about to seek out your other scars, prepared to reminisce, when you hear Clarke call your name outside.

You stand and look around the house you plan to share with Bellamy in the future, smiling at it before you exit, closing the door behind you. You walk towards the center of the village, towards Clarke, and as soon as she sees you approaching, she holds up a dead rabbit. “It’s your turn to cook.”

You groan, staring at the rabbit in your hand. “I hate prepping rabbit, it’s such a pain.”

“I know.”

You roll your eyes, “So you killed a rabbit on purpose then? Just to torture me?”

“No, it’s just the luck of the draw that Madi found a rabbit in the traps today.”

“Right.” You start to reach out to grab the rabbit before you get an idea. “What if we sparred instead?”

“What?”

“We spar, the loser cooks dinner.”

Clarke cocks her head to the side, considering this. “And cleans up?”

“Yes.”

She puts the rabbit down, already stepping into a clearing nearby. “Deal.”

The two of you stand in the clearing, circling each other slowly, fists raised. Clarke goes on the offense, making the first move and stepping towards you, swinging a punch your way. You duck beneath it, her fist missing you, but you don't expect the follow up punch from her other hand, which lands on your face. You pull back in surprise and Clarke grins at you, predatory, a whole different person when she fights. You lunge at her and grab her by the shoulders, holding her in place as you ram your knee into her stomach. She doubles over in pain, slipping out of your grip, and recovers fast enough to swing her arm around and land a hit to your ribs. You jump up and elbow her, catching her in the shoulder, and she grabs your arm as you try to pull away, spinning you around.

She wraps her arm around your neck, putting you in a chokehold, squeezing just enough to get you to tap out. But you’re determined not to give up that easily, and you swing your elbow back and deliver a sharp hit to the side of her face. Her grip loosens and as soon as you’re free you jump away slightly, lifting your fists in a defensive position again. Clarke swings a kick towards you and knocks you off your feet, flat on your back, before she pounces on you. You roll her over easily, giving yourself the advantage, but she uses her feet to push you off her. You both jump up again and stand to face each other, before you run at each other at the same time, swinging your fists and dodging each other in a flurry of movement. Just as you start to get the upper hand, you hear a voice call out, frantic, “Stop! Stop it!”

You and Clarke jump apart, turning to look at Madi, her face pulled into a frown, tears in her eyes. “What are you doing?”

Clarke’s mom mode kicks in and she walks over to Madi, dropping to her knees in front of her. “We’re just playing around.”

“So you’re not fighting?”

You walk closer to her. “Just play fighting.”

“Oh.” You see the distress leave her face, quickly turning into one of interest. “Can you teach me?”

Clarke’s disapproval is immediate, “No.”

“But Clarke-”

“I said no.”

You look at Clarke in confusion. “She should know how to fight. More of us probably would have made it when we landed if we knew how to defend ourselves.”

She turns and gives you a sharp look. “No, I don't want that for her. Besides, we don’t have to worry about things like that anymore. Octavia united the clans. When they get out of the bunker, everything will be fine.”

“Clarke the clans were united under Lexa and still fought.”

“We’ll keep her safe.” She stands, already walking back towards the rabbit, ending the conversation. “No more fighting.”

You watch your twin leave, and you shake your head in disagreement, but think that’s it, the conversation is over. Madi surprises you the next day by finding you down at the river, sitting on a rock, enjoying the sun before you catch a few fish. “I want you to train me.”

You look towards her in shock, already laughing at the request. “No way. Clarke will kill me.”

“Ani, I need to know how to fight. If we’re attacked I won't know anything beyond the few things my birth parents taught me for when the Flamekeepers came.”

You sigh, knowing that you agree. Madi’s odds for survival, both now and in the future, are highest if she knows how to defend herself. And though you see Clarke’s reasoning and understand her fear, you still don’t think that’s enough to keep Madi in the dark. War and death ended all of your childhoods as soon as you landed on the ground, something you all desperately tried to get the adults in your lives to understand. It was hard for them to accept that the kids they sent to the ground were no longer kids, but as soon as you started getting picked off, all of your childhoods ended. You understand that Clarke doesn't want that for Madi, but you hated how defenseless you were before you learned how to fight, use a sword, shoot a gun, and you know you don't want that for Madi. “If we do this, Clarke can't know.”

Madi turns towards you in surprise, fully expecting that you were going to say no. “Really?”

“Really. We’ll train every few days in the berry meadow. Clarke never goes out there, and it’ll be safe for us there.”

“Thank you, ani.” She hugs you tight before standing. “I have to get back before Clarke realizes I left, but we can start tomorrow at noon.”

You nod. “I’ll see you there.”

“In the berry meadow, at noon.”

You nod in confirmation and repeat, “The berry meadow. Noon.”

She smiles and runs off and you smile after her, her joy contagious. The dazzling sun, so bright and warm.

The next day you meet her at the meadow, and every few days after that, teaching her to spar and fight, how to use a sword, and all the basics of guns without actually shooting one. Things go well for a few months, as Madi gets better and better, all without Clarke suspecting a thing. Of course, that doesn't last forever, and Clarke eventually figures everything out. She’s mad at you at first, utterly livid, and she yells at you for at least twenty minutes about how you disobeyed her wishes and went behind her back to do it. But at the end of her speech, she surprises you by saying, “If we’re going to do this, we train her harder and better than anyone ever trained us. We push her until she breaks and then we keep going. We train her until she’s strong. Unstoppable.”

You immediately agree, relieved that Clarke was only mad for a little while. You stand, about to pass the good news to Madi, but Clarke stops you at the door, her voice cold as ice. “Promise me you’ll never go against my wishes for Madi again.”

“I promise.”

You try to leave again, but she stops you. “I’m serious, la lune. If you go against my wishes again, I won’t be as forgiving.”

You nod, mildly concerned with how serious she is, agreeing to it nonetheless. “I understand.”

She finally lets you leave and deliver the news to Madi, who is beyond excited to be trained by both of you.

And you do exactly what Clarke wanted, pushing Madi past her limits, exposing to every possible scenario you can imagine, preparing her for absolutely anything that would come her way.

Unfortunately, none of you could have predicted what would happen two years later. None of you were ready for the mystery ship to enter the sky and land in the valley, your valley, your home.

You sit in the small house you’ve prepared for you and Bellamy, looking at the stars through the window in the ceiling, lifting the radio to your lips to continue telling him the events of the day. “It’s been 1,923 since Praimfaya. Just over 5 years. I spend most days with my eyes turned towards the sky, looking for you, waiting for you to come back. It’s been three months since it was safe for you to return and everyday that passes without you here is worse than the one before. I got through the five years without you because I knew that when day 1,825 rolled around, I’d get to see you again. Instead, I spend every day waiting for you, disappointed when you don't come.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you reach for the book that lays on the bed near you, brought with you each time you come into this house to talk to him. You flip the cover open and look down at the note, the tears falling down your face as you read through his words, now memorized at this point. “I’m reaching out for you, Bellamy. I need you to come home, because I don't want to do this without you anymore. Madi and Clarke have each other, and I know I have them too, but I need you. Just, please come back to me.”

You drop the radio and cry harder, quiet sobs slipping from you as you feel the pain that has never stopped. Just as fresh and painful as it was in the beginning, now mixed with the hope you’ve started to lose when he didn't show up three months ago. You choke back another sob, but you freeze in place when you hear a sound nearby, somewhere inside of the small house. Your voice wavers when you call out, “Hello?”

You stare at the doorway to the bedroom, waiting, and seconds later a small figure appears in the doorway, looking sheepish and worried. “Hi ani.”

You try to smile at her, quickly wiping away the tears from your face, not wanting her to see you cry. “Hey, Madi. what are you doing here?”

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

Unconvinced, she steps into the room, plopping down onto the bed beside you, putting her arm around you to comfort you. The gesture chokes you up and she whispers, “Are you talking to Bellamy?”

“Yes.”

“And he doesn't answer?”

“No.”

“Do you think he can hear you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Clarke told me that you’ve called him everyday since Praimfaya.” You look down at her in surprise, unaware that she knew. Your radio calls to Bellamy aren't necessarily a secret, but you always have them by yourself, and you usually do them late at night, while Madi and Clarke sleep. You don't know why; maybe it’s for the privacy, maybe because you’re worried they’ll judge you for talking to a man who hasn't answered once in five years. Whatever the reason, it hasn't come up since Madi joined your family, and you always assumed she didn't know. “If he could hear you, I think he’d answer you.”

“Maybe. A lot of things change in five years.” It hurts your heart to say it, but the reality of it is true. If Bellamy thinks you’re dead, he’s probably mourned you and moved on. The thought tears you up inside, but there’s nothing you can do about it down here.

“Clarke’s told me how much he loves you.”

You watch her closely, an earnest, sincere expression on her face. “When did she tell you that? Because I don't remember any of her stories saying anything other than ‘Bellamy and ani are dating’.”

“I used to see you sneaking out here by yourself every night and I asked her what you were doing. She told me that you call Bellamy every night and talk to him, because he is your soulmate and you both love each other very much. She said Bellamy loved you as soon as he got to the ground, and he used to be mean to you to hide it. She also told me that you loved him as soon as you met him, you just didn't realize it at first.”

You laugh a little. “Clarke said a lot, huh?”

“Please don't be upset with her. She only told me because I wouldn't stop asking, and she told me not to ask you about it because your heart is still healing, and talking about it hurts you.” She looks up at you, face etched with concern. “I’ve been worried about you. You’ve been so sad lately.”

You’re silent, wondering if you should let Madi into this part of your life, into the hidden parts of your heart where your love for Bellamy lives. But then you look at her, at the worry in her face, the sincerity of her comfort, and you decide this hidden side of you shouldn't be hidden anymore. Because Clarke and Madi are your family. They love you, unconditionally, and would never judge you for calling Bellamy. “I just miss him, Madi. They were supposed to come back a few months ago, and I’m worried that they’ll never come back.”

“I know Skairipa is going to get the bunker open, and I know Bellamy is going to get everyone back down again. He’s coming back for you, I just know it.”

You wrap your arm around her and drop your cheek onto her head, drawing in the comfort she’s offering you. “Thank you, Madi.”

The two of you sit on the bed side by side for a while, spending most of the time reminiscing on your relationship with Bellamy, Madi now able to ask the questions she’s always wondered about. And when you finally fall asleep that night, you have a sense of peace you’ve lacked for a while, brought to you by a little girl who shines on everything around her like the sun.

As soon as both prisoners are dead, Clarke turns to you and tosses you your gun. You holster it and your knife as she runs over to Madi, checking on her. Once she’s sure she’s okay, Wanheda takes the lead. “We need to draw them away from here.”

“How?”

She thinks hard for a second, running through her options, before her face lights up. “Madi, do you still have that trap in that clearing across from the west ridgeline?”

“Yes.”

Clarke looks at you. “If you get a prisoner to that clearing and into the trap, the others will go looking for him. We can wait them out at the ridgeline with our rifles, and pick them off as they come.”

You nod. “You two go ahead and go that way, I'll take care of the rest and meet you there in a few.”

“Be safe.”

“You too.”

Madi looks like she wants to protest, but Clarke pulls her away before she can. You watch them leave, making sure they disappear from your sight before you take a deep breath and creep towards the village. You scale one of the trees on the perimeter, watching as the woman from before, the leader of the prisoners, sends them out in groups to search for you, Clarke, and Madi. You watch the groups peel off one by one, searching for the best one to trap, smiling when you see a group of two head into the woods, towards the direction of your trap.

You slink down the tree and sneak up behind the two men, both of them walking a considerable distance apart, making things easier for you. You eye them both, deciding which to kill now and which to lead into the trap, finally deciding the tall blonde will be better to trap, and the shorter brunette man will be easier to kill. You watch the blonde man pull ahead, leaving the brunette behind, half searching, half trudging through the woods, looking annoyed.

You sneak up behind the brunette man, pulling out your knife as you approach, and when you’re close enough to reach him, you jump onto his back, slam your left hand onto his mouth to quiet his scream, and plunge your knife into his neck with your right hand, killing him before he even realizes you’re on him. Then you jump off him, letting him slide to the ground. You sneak back into the trees, hidden from view, before you intentionally snap a branch, alerting the blonde to your presence. He turns around, looking around him frantically, his eyes eventually landing on the body of his dead partner. He runs over to him, checking him over, and you sneak ahead of the man, putting some distance between you, pointing yourself in the direction of the trap.

As soon as you see the man reach for his radio to call for help, you call out, “I wouldn't.”

He looks up at you in surprise, aiming his gun your way, and you take off running before he can take a shot, bobbing and weaving through the woods as the man runs after you, trying to kill you. He follows you, completely unaware of the trap you’re leading him into, and as soon as you break free from the trees and into the clearing, you jump over the tripwire, hidden perfectly by Madi. The blonde man, however, does not follow suit, and seconds later you hear the trap trigger and the man cry out in pain. You turn around, looking at the metal spikes that have impaled him, and you get a flash of a memory, Diggs, impaled by spikes on a search for Octavia. You ignore the memory and run over to the man, disarming him quickly and tossing his gun away, so he can’t reach it. He looks at you, face contorted in pain, and begs, “Please, help me.”

“You threatened my family. There’s no help for you now.”

And then you turn and run off, weaving through the woods again, working your way up the ridge towards Clarke. As expected, the man cries out for help not long after you disappear into the trees, the cries following you your entire way up the ridge. A funny feeling passes over you on your way up, and you realize that the memory of Diggs is still pulling at you, begging to be remembered. You pause in shock when you realize why. Now, you’re the Grounder. You killed a man stealthily in the woods after hiding in the trees, you lead the second into a trap, and now you’re going to watch from afar, just like Lincoln did. It’s a surreal realization, one that leaves you feeling strange, but you don't have time to wonder why, not now.

Instead, you take the last few steps out of the woods and onto the ridge, sneaking your way over to Clarke and Madi to take your place beside them, both of them looking your way as you set up your rifle. “And so it begins.”

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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f0rever15elf · 4 years

Text

I Just Need Five Minutes: Part 1

Part 1 of the Maxwell Lord “I Just Need Five Minutes” Series: Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4, Part 5 (Coming soon) Pairing: Maxwell Lord x f!reader Wordcount: 2,325 Rating: G Warnings: Death mentions Part 2 (Coming soon...)

Summary: Lord Corp has become the top business contender on the global stage, lead by none other than Maxwell Lord IV. His rise to glory has taken him from the lives of those he once loved, and you can only watch as he slips further and further out of reach. You had to stop it, before it was too late. You had to get inside.

A/N: This story is going to call a little bit on the comic book backstory of Maxwell Lord IV, most of which can be found in his wiki article, if you’re interested. I’m excited to write for Maxwell, his character has so much potential. And hopefully this will tide me over since the movie release has been delayed again.

Masterlist | Ao3

He was a genius. Shrewd, cunning, and charismatic. His way with words had everyone coiled tightly around his finger; he could sell holy water to the Pope if he wanted to. And with that silver tongue, that guise he wore to stroke the egos of those who ate from his palm and were none the wiser, he continued to climb higher and higher. More and more power fell into his grasp.

But a glass can only hold so much, and as his brimmed and spilled over with power and influence, so did he lose his humanity.

“Maxwell...what have you done?”

~~~~

The sun shines brilliantly in the summer sky over the wide yard in front of the Lord estate. In the lush green grass, two children play, no more than five or six years old. A boy and a girl, giggling and laughing over jokes and stories told in funny voices. It is the picture of innocence, purity. The little girl picks up a flower from the small pile they had collected, tucking it behind her ear before finding a matching one, tucking it behind the boy’s.

“We match now!” she beams in a way only a child can. “It means that you and I will be together forever!” The boy blushes at her words, soft blonde hair blowing gently in the summer breeze. His face is gentle and kind, shy even as he watches her with bright brown eyes that shine in the light. Tentatively, he sticks out his hand to her, pinky finger extended.

“You gotta promise! It doesn’t work if you don’t promise!” His serious voice makes the girl giggle before she makes a serious face, wrapping her pinky around his tightly.

“I promise! Forever and ever.” The boy smiles and nods as she says so, repeating her words back to her before they both erupt into giggles. From the balcony, the mothers of the two children look on fondly over their cups of tea. The sound of the children laughing danced on the warm breeze, pleasant in their ears. If only things could stay like this forever.

~~~~

Your pinky twitches as you stand before the gilded doors of the Lord Building, looking up at its windows, blinding in the sunlight. You would get in. You had to. Things had been put into motion that you need to stop, but the only way to do so is from the inside. With a shake of your head and a sigh, your turn on your heel, heading down the street towards home. It seems that nearly every screen you pass on your way has Maxwell’s face on it, selling empty promises and loaded bargains. And every time you see his eyes, they look a little less like the boy you use to know.

~~~~

“Max can’t meet you today, dear,” your mother says, petting your hair. To an adult familiar with grief and loss, the tightness in her voice would betray the tumultuous emotions she feels. To you, she just sounds uncomfortable, and you tilt your head in confusion. Fourteen years doesn’t provide much time to become familiar with the concept of loss, so you shrug, saddened you wouldn’t get to see your friend today.

Gone were the days of sitting in the grass to play, tucking flowers into each other’s hair. Maxwell was always busy helping his father to run the family business, and you would go months without so much as a word from him before he would show up at your door with a lily, smiling that dimpled smile at you. Promises always poured from his lips that it wouldn’t be so long next time before he came to see you.

But today… Today would change everything. Today, Maxwell’s father died.

~~~~

The door to your apartment slams shut behind you with a thud, shutting out the hustle and bustle of Metropolis. It’s small, but cozy, filled with your plants to bring a little life to the drab living room and kitchen. Taking a seat in the living room, you pull out your computer from your bag as you flip on the TV. It’s Maxwell’s face again, smiling at you with the look of a used car salesman who swears he wants only the best for his favorite customer. You know it’s not a real smile. Maxwell has a dimple when he smiles, and this charade didn’t. You shake your head as his promises of whatever you want in this perfect future fill the room, your eyes refocusing on your laptop, refreshing your emails. One meeting...that was all you needed.

~~~~

You let out a frustrated sigh as the door slams closed, your mother letting out a cry of surprise at the sound before coming to find you, resting a concerned hand on your shoulder as you throw yourself onto the couch.

“He still won’t see you?” Her gentle words just cause your heart to ache further and you nod.

“His mom greeted me, invited me in and made me tea. We chatted, but as soon as I asked about Maxwell, she stood up and ushered me from the house, asking me to not come by anymore since I couldn’t seem to stop asking for him.” You turn to look at your mother, tears in your eyes. “Why won’t he see me, Mom? Did I do something wrong?” Your mother’s heart shatters at the broken light in your eyes. She knew how much Maxwell meant to you, and that having him refuse to see you was tearing you apart.

“My sweet, you’ve done nothing wrong. Maxwell has a lot of responsibility to take on now that he’s running his father’s company. He’s very busy and doesn’t have as much time to see friends as he use to.” She brushes your hair behind your ear with delicate fingers. “I’m sure he still cares about you.”

“I miss him, Mom. I miss my best friend. It’s been three years since I’ve seen him...” Seventeen years of life and you still struggle with keeping your emotions in check, especially when it comes to Maxwell.

“I know sweetheart...When the time is right, you will see him again…”

~~~~

The alert from your inbox pulls you from your reverie, your eyes refocusing on the screen. As they do, your heart stutters in your chest

‘To Whom It May Concern,

We graciously thank you for your interest in Lord Corp. Mr. Lord has personally reviewed your product and would like to arrange to meet you on Wednesday at 3 p.m. You will have thirty minutes to make your sales pitch and answer any questions he may have. The front desk will direct you when you arrive. Please bring a valid photo ID and copies of your pitch for convince. Do not be late, Mr. Lord’s time is incredibly valued.

Cordially,

Sam Preston

Personal Assistant to the CEO’

You had gotten it. That moment you needed on the inside...you had finally gotten it. A relieved smile graces your lips as you begin to amass your files. You had one shot at this, it had to be perfect.

~~~~

You stand alone in the cemetery as you watch the caretakers laying new sod over the fresh grave. Your heart feels hollow, and only the black lace veil conceals the tears streaming down your cheeks from the world around you. Today was beautiful; cool and still with the birds singing in the trees as the sun warmed the earth. It was too beautiful for a day filled with such grief.

As the caretakers pack up their tools, one stops to rest a hand on his shoulder, passing along his condolences before continuing on his way. You nod gratefully before kneeling beside the headstone. It is modest, small and simple with a delicate engraving of a singular rose by your mother’s name. Black-gloved fingers trace along each petal and letter, your shoulders shaking with silent cries. You were now well and truly alone.

You shouldn’t have had to be alone. He should have been there with you, you had made a promise to one another. You were there when his father passed, and his mother. He didn’t even have the time to attend his own mother’s funeral, but you did. You mourned for him as they lowered a woman close enough to be your second mother into the ground beside her husband. So why were you alone now?

Where are you Maxwell?

~~~~

Your hands work to smooth the front of your dress down before you enter the lobby of Lord Corp. Slate gray with a simple black belt that held nicely to your figure but didn’t reveal too much. Professional and classy, with a dash of sexy. Nothing beyond anything any self-respecting company owner would don. Head held high and the bag you specifically reserved for important business trips and meetings over your shoulder, you make your way inside, up to the front desk.

“Welcome to Lord Corp, where the future is yours, do you have an appointment?” The intern who greets you sounds like every last bit of his soul has been sapped from him, and you pity him. Giving him a sad smile, you nod, pulling out your ID.

“I do, at 3 pm with Mr. Lord.” You give him your name as he takes the card, looking you up in the system before nodding, handing you back your ID and a visitors badge which you quickly put around your neck.

“Lily Solutions, you’re still on schedule. I’ll have you head down the hall. Take your first left, you’ll find the elevators. Take it all the way to the top and have a seat on the bench outside the double doors at the end of the hall. Sam will come and get you when Mr. Lord is ready for you.” You smile sweetly at the young man, thanking him before following your instructions. Your ears pop on the way up and you grimace, pulling out the folder with your ‘sales pitch’ inside, flipping through to make sure everything is in order. As the doors slide open and you make your way down the hall, you sigh. This floor was so much more opulent than the ground floor and you feel so out of place. Floor to ceiling paintings like the walls, depicting grandiose battles. Priceless vases and sculptures sit along marble pedestals. It’s like walking through a museum rather than an office, and your jaw clenches as you think about how he had come to acquire some of these items. When you reach the bench, you take your seat and cross your ankles to wait, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Lily Solutions?” The voice that calls out for you immediately grates on your nerves, high pitched and nasally. Looking to your right, so you a man in a pressed navy blue suit make his way towards you, and you stand to meet him, taking his extended hand. “I am Sam Preston, Mr. Lord’s personal assistant. Did you bring your requested documents?” The way he looked down his nose at you makes your blood boil, but you paste on the sweetest smile you can, nodding as you hand over the folder.

“You’ll find copies of all requested articles inside, neatly labeled for yours and Mr. Lord’s personal convenience.” Sam makes a disinterested sound in the back of his throat, snapping the folder shut before checking his watch.

“Very good. This way.” He strides past you and as soon as he is in front of you, you drop the sweet smile. Maxwell, why hire someone like him? You shake your head as Sam opens the door at the end of the hall, getting your salesman smile in place. “Mr. Lord, your 3 o’clock is here from Lily Solutions.” Sam ushers you inside and you are taken aback once again at how over the top the design of the office is. Floor to ceiling windows line the whole back wall with arguably the best view in Metropolis and the curtains that hang every so often are of a rich red velvet with gold filigree. The marble tiles cause the click of your heels to echo as you make your way to the center of the room beside Sam, your eyes locked on the man sitting at the large mahogany desk.

It’s been seventeen years since you last saw Maxwell, and your heart ached for the man who appraises you with shrewd and cunning eyes. With a wave of his hand, Sam nods, leaving the folder on the desk to make his way out of the room. The large oaken door closing echos ominously through the room as Maxwell stands, coming around his desk to face you, hands in his pockets. If he recognized you at all, he didn’t show it.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Lord. I realize your time is very valuable, so I won’t keep you long.” Maxwell chuckles humorlessly at your greetings, leaning back against his desk.

“You say that, but you bring me this fake, garbage company in an attempt for a sales pitch?” His voice is rough and hard as flint, no trace of that gentle sound he once had. “What game are you playing?”

“No game, sir.”

“I don’t believe you.” He pushes off of his desk, walking back around it. “Everyone has a game they play, and if you’re not going to tell me yours, I’ll have you escorted out.” When he picks up the phone, your heart leaps into your throat and you dart forward pressing down on the receiver, cutting it off. He glares at you in disbelief. The audacity, he thinks, is astounding and he would make sure you suffer for it.

“Maxwell, please.” His eyes flash at the use of his first name, something in the way it sounds in your voice bringing him to pause. “I just need five minutes.”

~~~~~

Taglist is open! Requests are open!

#Maxwell lord #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x f!reader #wonder woman 84 #ww84 #my fic

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tuellertrails · 3 years

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We’re 3 weeks into our hike so far, here are a few things I have learned

- Wake up EARLY in the desert. Because it will get hotter than hell and you will die of heatstroke if you hike in the heat of the day.

- Take your shoes (foot prisons) off at every opportunity. Your feet will thank you

- The higher you go in elevation, the harder the hiking is, the less hot it becomes and the more beautiful the scenery is. The desert has its own kind of beauty, but being in an alpine environment with lots of trees and the smell of sun warmed pine needles is my favorite place to be (besides a comfortable bed watching TV and eating snacks, of course). We’ve had several days of hiking where we’ve done over 5k feet of elevation, and I find that I am particularly prone to swearing and exhaustion on those days 😂. But the incredible views do make up for it somewhat! It’s all part of the experience.

- Ibuprofen (Vitamin I) and Benadryl are a hikers best friend.

- Pack out fresh food whenever you can. Vegetables and fruit have never tasted so good.

- Kindness is EVERYWHERE. We’ve received food, cold drinks, rides, camp chairs to sit in and many other kindnesses from trail angels, other hikers, family members and random people. Everything is appreciated.

Speaking of kindness, we spent several hours one day waiting out the heat of the day in a small hut next to the wind farm made for hot, suffering PCT hikers, with a cooler of cold water for us to enjoy. It was 95* even in the shade 🥵. We did not leave early enough that day, but it gave me the chance to wait out the heat and look at my phone 😂.

Here’s some highlights/points of interest from the last 100+ miles

- We heard a great story from Trail Angel who gave us a ride out of Julian, who heard it from a different hiker that she gave a ride to. So the hiker was hiking down the trail (early on, around mile 15) when he hears a voice say "hello". He looks down and sees a guy laying in the bushes in a sleeping bag with mud on his face. "Oh, uh... hello" the hiker says. The man responds "Would you like to be blessed with magic sand?" And holds up a pile of sand in his hand. The guy wasn't sure if this dude was on drugs, was going to throw the sand in his face or what, and he's contemplating how to side step this very weird man when the dude stands up and reveals that he is completely naked and says "You should really use mud. It makes the best sunscreen". Glad that it wasn’t me, poor guy.

- We went through a small town in Warner Springs who had a gas station and some picnic tables, so basically a hiker haven. We spent a couple of hours eating gas station food, and I gave another hiker a shot in the butt 😂. Nursing skills always coming in handy out here. Landon consistently says that the gas station hot dog was one of the highlights of the trail.

- My feet are MUCH better than they were. Getting inserts and some foot compression socks were a game changer for me. I now can walk many more miles without having to stop so often to roll out the golf balls on my feet. Despite this, hiking is still hard and we still find new soreness, aches and pains every day. But I do think that we are toughening up and able to do more miles than we did the first week. My blisters are mostly hardened now, and we have done as many as 18 miles in a day at this point.

- Water can be very scarce, and you have to plan out your water carries very carefully. One water source in this last stretch was a big water tank a few hundred feet from “Mikes Place”. Mikes Place is near the trail and has a big water cistern for hikers to go and get water, but they also let hikers camp and party there and sometimes feed them. There were some comments on Guthooks (the hiking navigation app we use) about how Mikes Place was kind of sketchy and borderline sexist, but we went down there with our hiker friends Sarah and Clyde, hoping for some food. Mikes place was interesting to say the least. It was a run down one story house that looked rather shabbily built, with a blanket as a wall in one section. It’s in a few acres of property, and there are all sorts of random things in front of the house. An assortment of stools and chairs, some lawn games like croquet and darts, a fire pit, a few coolers, and then even more random things like a sword stuck in a stone (a replica like in the movie). There was also an old painted car on one end, a shabby outdoor kitchen with a pizza oven and a greasy grill and lots of bowls and plates and utensils, and lots of other items spread out across the property. It seemed a little hoarder-y to us. They had Johnny cash playing in the background which kind of fit the vibe of the place. There were a few hikers there eating already, and a more stout gentleman wearing a t shirt, shorts and flip flops whose name was Scott. He said that there was no food left but that we could cook our own if we wanted, and we were like "ummm, sure?"  So he brought out the ingredients for breakfast burritos and we got to cracking eggs and slicing veggies and fired up the very greasy outdoor grill, and within about 15 minutes we were eating breakfast burritos. Scott was a little weird. He would pop in and out of where we were cooking and then disappear again, I guess he was nice enough but he just gave off a bit of a weird vibe. Apparently Mike lives in San Diego and Scott is a caretaker of his place for now, along with another guy named Spirit who we met a little later as we ate. He was a older guy, with long white hair in a ponytail and beard, wearing a dirty green zip hoodie with what looked to be a hand painted "VVR" on it, jeans and chacos. He chatted with us briefly, he is a hiker who has hiked the John Muir Trail every year since 2014 and then decided to go work at VVR, a resort in the Sierras, after visiting it so many times. He said he was headed up there in a few weeks. Anyways, we are our burritos, washed our plates, said thank you and left to go filter water from the tank up above, leaving some money in the donation box as a thank you. The food was good but I definitely wouldn't have felt comfortable being there by myself, Mike’s Place was a little...dirt baggy, but I’m glad I got to experience it all the same. Apparently Scott is hiking now, and showed up at the campground in Idyllwild a few days later, drunk as a skunk and vomited all over 😂.

- We’re 10% done with the trail! Which really puts into perspective how long this hike actually is 😂. We had heard that our trail legs would start to come in after 3 weeks, but both Landon and I agree that we’re still quite sore and wake up with different aches and pains every day. We are definitely running a major calorie deficit at this point, burning upwards of 4K calories per day, burning much more than we are eating. This is ok with us, as we could both lose 30 Lbs or more and still be in a healthy weight range! Our friend Jamie, who hiked the trail years ago with her husband, says that we are losing our “town fat”. But we both agree that our clothes are feeling a bit looser than they were before. Who knew that 3 weeks of near continuous intense exercise would do that? We are slowly getting more fit, so hopefully those trail legs will come in soon here in the next few weeks.

- Remember the girl I talked about in our last post a few weeks ago, who woke up our friend at 5 AM and told him that she had no pants? Well, he came across her again a few days ago. She was topless, sitting in a stream in her underwear, playing a ukelele. And much to his chagrin, she remembered him! 😂 Not exactly a meet cute.

- Though there are definitely some eccentric people out here, 95% of the hikers and people we meet are wonderful. We have met the most incredible people as we hike, and are grateful to have made some good friends. They say that trauma bonds you, and all of the hikers have similar trauma out on trail 😂. We all know how hard this is, how beautiful, and have experienced first hand the heavy packs we carry after filling up our food and water, and the different aches and pains that accompany hiking day after day. Ive seen some pretty gnarly feet 🦶among the hikers out here, covered in blisters and cuts, with blackened toenails and foot fungus. Our feet are constantly getting beaten up! I’m glad to know that it isn’t just us experiencing the aches and pains. Ive always been a bit of a social butterfly, and after a year of isolation due to the Covid pandemic, the extrovert in me is absolutely loving the social aspect of our hike.

We will be getting off trail for four days this next weekend to go to a family wedding and sadly, a funeral as well. We were saddened to hear that Landon’s Grandfather has passed away, after suffering from Alzheimer’s for many years in the last years of his life. I never knew him before the Alzheimer’s had affected him, but I was told that he was smart as a whip, very funny, and a great story teller. Landon has fond memories of his grandfather, going on family trips and hearing his many stories. Even after the disease progression, Arlin was a very sweet and gentle man who was happy to give you a hug and listen to you talk, even if he didn’t quite remember who you were. We feel very lucky to have been able to spend some time with him and with Landon’s Grandmother the week before the trail, and he will be greatly missed by all. We are looking forward to getting off trail for a few days to reunite with our family to both celebrate and mourn together.

Thanks to everyone for the love and support in our PCT journey so far, this has been the most incredible experience of our lives so far and we’re grateful for every second, no matter how tough, of this great adventure.

- The Tueller’s

#pct #pct2021 #pctclassof2021 #tuellertrails #hikertrash

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adsosfraser · 3 years

Text

The Stone’s Toll Chapter Two

Read on AO3

“Mrs. Randall, ye have a visitor.” Claire stared at the nurse, curiosity plain on her face.

She left and softly closed the door behind her. Minutes later, Claire heard the click of the lock again and strained her neck towards the noise.

Graham smiled sheepishly as he shuffled into her room. He held a small bouquet of heather, thistles, and gorse wrapped in twine.

“Hello miss, tis lovely tae see ye again. I picked these just this afternoon on my way here. I was lucky they were all so close together.” The boy searched the room and put the flowers in the empty vase on the table to her right. “I don’t know if ye remember, but I found you up at the standing stones. Well my mam always said to watch out for the faerie hill but I was a wee bit curious ye ken. I’m glad I took a wander over because… sorry miss my mam always tells me how I go blethering on about nonsense and such so that’s just to say I hope you are feeling better miss..?”

“Claire Fr.. err Randall.” Claire couldn’t help the smile at the young man's youth and almost naïveté, it was a breath of fresh air compared to the ordeals of the past months.

She reached out her hand for him to shake.

“It was very kind of you to come visit Graham. Thank you.” He blushed at her compliment.

“Well I brought some cards because I ken how boring it is to be locked up in one of these rooms. And the radio is a pounding nuisance sometimes as well. Last year I stumbled on one of the fence posts I was putting up when I was helping down at auld Hamish’s. The nail went straight through the leg and I ended up here a day. Mam was absolutely furious at me, boxed my ears till they rang for weeks. My mam’s a nurse here so it’s no trouble at all that I’m here right now visiting. I guess I get special insider privileges. I come here after school to do my schoolwork and she says I’m no bother. That’s what I was just doing before I decided to pop in here Miss.”

Claire welcomed the ramblings of Graham. It was a nice distraction to the morbid thoughts that lay festering below.

“Well I appreciate the company. My… husband just left to prepare things for our short stay here. I’m sorry I’m rubbish at most card games, but I’ll go my hand at it.”

The two chatted companionably and he even managed to pry out a laugh or two from her. Claire pushed down feelings of familiarity of Fergus and the boy before her. He couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than the boy she had just left behind hours ago, with the same long-lashed dark eyes and dark hair. Tears sprung at the thought of her son and she turned out of view to wipe them away.

“Do you have any fours?” Graham interrupted her thoughts.

“Ach! It feels like I’m being cheated here.” Claire flashed a smile and pushed forward the two cards on the table between them.

“Hello darling. It seems you’ve made a new friend.”

Claire stiffened at her husband's entrance into the small hospital room. Graham flicked his gaze between the two of them, sensing the tension. He awkwardly picked up the game in front of them and shoved the cards into his pocket.

“Yes. This is Graham Munro, the one who helped me to the hospital.”

“Thank you for bringing my wife safely back into my custody Graham. I’m sure she has lots to tell me, and would appreciate time to rest.”

Graham cleared his throat. “Well Miss Claire, I wish ye a speedy recovery. Twas a pleasure to meet ye.”

“You as well Graham. Thank you for the flowers.”

The boy reached out to squeeze Claire’s hand and smiled warmly. He turned on his heel and raced out to the corridor.

Moments later, Frank shoved the table to the side and knelt by his wife’s side. He reached out to hold the hands that rested on her lap. Claire flinched at his touch once again and Frank furrowed his brow. Frank felt a squeeze in his hand and smiled up at her. She put on a strained smile as she stared down at him. He finally noticed the silver that encircled her right ring finger and made to take it off. She pulled her hand violently from his grasp and guarded the jewellry to her chest. He pushed off the reaction to the shock the doctor had described. He just needed to be patient.

“Darling, everything is prepared at the manse for our arrival. You’ll rest here tonight, recover, heal, and then I’ll bring you over in the morning. I left your suitcase there and I’m sure you’ll have enough to get you through our stay.” He walked over to a chair near the window while he spoke and placed her stays in his hands.

“Alright.” Her gaze was transfixed on her fingers in her lap.

“This is… remarkable Claire, where on earth did you find these?”

“Hmph.” Claire offered as a reply, almost mimicking the Scottish noise her husband always made.

“Right I’m to leave with Reverend Wakefield to visit over some archives again. You’ll be in good hands here for now.”

A nurse wheeled in a cart and instructed Claire to rest. She gathered the sterile bandages from the metal tray and pulled back the cover of Claire’s hospital gown to display the burns flicking across the cream skin of her stomach. She winced as the nurse applied the salve against her sore skin so she took pity on her poor patient. The nurse pushed a syringe into her IV line and Claire’s limbs instantly relaxed. Her head filled with cotton and she wasn’t able to hold it up herself, until she let go of the tension within herself and slumped down on the stiff mattress.

It was cold and she was only in her shift, a white shawl draped across her shoulders. Piles of men dotted the ground and a bunny twitched its nose at her before sprinting away. There, underneath the corpse of his enemy, lay her husband. His body was covered in blood and crusted with dirt and deep scratches marked his body: the result of war.

“Are you alive?” She stretched her hand out towards his cheek.

Her hand cupped his stumbled jaw and his skin blazed against hers. The fever shook his body and sapped his energy. What little he had left was spent twisting his neck in her direction. A light dusting of snow covered the bloody grass of the moor. All too soon, she was pulled away and the sight of him faded from her grasp.

***

The hours passed and the logs burned to small sticks, Frank replacing them every so often with new wood. He turned towards the table that held a half-empty glass, plying himself more and more with alcohol as the glass drowned in the weight of the drink. Claire worked tirelessly the precious few days where her husband hadn’t yet pressed her for an explanation, flipping through all available resources to find any trace of Jamie. Mrs. Graham had been a wonder in helping Claire but her attitude regardless would not have changed anything. The search was futile and failed to bring what she wanted. She couldn’t look for the family that was alive that she had left behind. The sacrifice and promise she made meant nothing with the outcome that soon became her every thought. She abandoned them all for a thought of a future, not even a live, breathing one.

She spoke of her time with Jamie, reluctantly giving only the necessary pieces of her life, an outline that she would be able to view events from outside. She stepped out of her life and watched herself ramble on, an outsider and onlooker to a tragic event. That wasn’t her, those things couldn’t have happened to her. Claire finished her final thoughts in a daze, looking anywhere but Frank.

“Give me-excuse me please Claire I need some time to think this over.”

Claire poured another glass for herself and slammed the burning liquid back along with a large pill from the hospital.

Frank returned a few hours later, having thought in great depth. Claire’s thoughts were muddled. She couldn’t remember how many glasses she had.

“Claire I can accept that you’ve had this… relationship with this man. I will never understand your feelings for him, but I can accept that you had this experience, and that leaving him broke your heart.”

“I don’t think you understand. I was with a man for two years, and I loved him deeply as his wife.”

“A point you’ve made several times and which I’ve said I understand. Now let me tell you this. I love you Claire, unconditionally, nothing you could do could stop my loving you.”

“Darling I’ve been offered a position at Harvard. I was thinking we could move to Boston together. Start over. Leave all...this behind.”

She didn’t care. He was dead. She might as well have been too. Frank could do as he bloody well pleased. Her mind focused on the patterns of the carpet below her, forcing out any other thoughts. Her finger swirled in spirals in one spot on her thigh, mimicking what she saw.

“Alright. ”

That was the first time Claire had looked into his eyes since her disappearance. His brown eyes were soft and crinkled in an attempt towards a smile to his wife. She couldn’t find the malice she desperately searched for. She needed the anger, the sharp coldness. It was too much. Frank kneeled at Claire’s feet and he reached to pull her down into his embrace. He brought her down to his chest. She stiffened.

“Claire, you've made me so happy. I know we’ll be happy. Together.”

“T-together? You mean for me to come along?”

“Of course, darling. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Claire only nodded in response. She knew she’d never be happy with Frank anymore, or anyone for that matter. She didn’t intend to live long, but what option did she have to resist a husband? Frank kissed her curls and pulled her head to his shoulder. He sniffled and pulled back, placing both hands gently on her face.

“But we must put the past behind us. You must promise me. No more searching for him. Let him go.”

“Yes. That’s what he made me promise.” She was reminded of another promise she had broken and another pang stabbed her already distressed heart.

#jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #outlander fanfiction #frank randall #craigh na dun #fergus fraser #canon divergence #outlander fanfic

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moonlightsolo · 4 years

Text

bête noire

summary: The Resistance had merely escaped Hoth just before the First Order arrived. The ships brought you to a habitable jungle moon named Ajan Kloss. It orbits a giant planet named Ajara. As the members of the Resistance creates a new life on this planet, you can’t help but think about Kylo even though he deceived you; His voice is constantly in the back of your head.

pairing: kylo ren x female reader

warnings: angst

wc: 4k

note: i’ve been blessing you guys with long chapters

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The jolting of the ship startles you awake. Your eyes fly open as you take in your surroundings, panic settles in your chest. It disappears when you realize where you are.

You look around to see that Ellie is in Leia’s arms sleeping and Ani is awake in Poe’s arms as he directs the pilots where to land.

You slowly go to stand up, leaning against the side of the ship as it touches down so you don’t lose balance. You look out the window in the ship and all you see is green foliage surrounding everything. It reminds you of when you visited Takodana with Han Solo.

You notice the other ships around too. Poe hands Ani off to Rey as the door opens to create a ramp. He looks around with his hands on his hips, a big smile on his face.

He starts to bark out orders at the crew, telling them to take things places and move things around.

You walk up to Leia as she stands, “I can take her for you.” You smile and she hands the sleeping baby over to you. Rey hands over Ani to you too as she grabs her belongings and heads out. The droid is behind you holding all of your bags as you walk out behind her. There are people everywhere.

X-wings flew in the sky above which causes Ellie to wake up, thankfully she doesn’t cry. You look at the net connected to the ships, seeing that they’re laying the nets on the trees. You’re guessing that they are either sensors or tripwires.

When you step off the ramp, you’re on a large concrete landing pad. There is a small trail that leads to a big rock so you begin to walk in a line with some of the crew. The big rock is a limestone cave, there are people setting up the command center on the other side of a large ship that was parked underneath. You’re guessing it’s Leia’s ship, the Tantive IV. There are wires coming out everywhere.

Rey walks up to the right of the cave where there is a little ledge and begins to set up her things. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, she gets her own little spot because she’s becoming a Jedi right?

You just push your negative thoughts aside and continue exploring the new base. You’re beginning to sweat in your heavy clothes from Hoth, you walk onto the large ship. You want to find something to create new clothing out of your old things.

“Pick whatever barrack you can fit in, okay?” One of the members smiles at you as you pass her. You nod and look around as you find a small unoccupied room with a single makeshift cot. There’s a blanket laying across it too and a pillow. A small port window is on the wall that shows the wall of the cave.

“I will build cribs for the children.” The droid says, “I’ll get some stuff for them.” You smile as you lay Ellie and Ani down on the cot so you could help the droid.

You take your long sleeve top off to exchange it for a short sleeve. You grab a pair of your beige utility pants, they fit perfectly. You slip your boots back onto your feet and then into the hallway to leave the droid with the twins.

You walk back out into the head, you pull your hair into a ponytail. You walk up to Poe, he’s in the middle of ordering people around but you can’t help but notice his eyes raking over your outfit. He catches your eyes and smiles, “Hey!” He calls out and waves for you to come over.

“Isn’t this great?” He asks his as sweaty arm goes over your shoulder. You don’t mind it though, you’re sweaty too.

“It’s beautiful here.” You take a deep breath in, “And the air is fresh. It doesn’t burn your nose from being too cold.” You laugh quietly.

He laughs along with you but Finn calls his name so he has to go see what he needs first. The little bit of time you spent on the ship was just enough for them to set up almost everything in the cave. It wasn’t perfect but everything is starting to come together already.

You walk down the path back to the landing pad to see all the star-fighters parked, it amazes you. You notice Finn’s friend, Rose, is struggling to help out a few people push a package so you go up to her and help.

“Thank you. We really needed that.” She laughs and wipes the sweat on the back of her hand. She extends the same hand towards you, “I’m Rose. I don’t think we officially met before.” She smiles wide and you take her hand. You tell her your name as well, “It’s really nice to meet you.” You reply.

As the sky grows darker, the day begins to turn into night. You’ve been helping as many people out as possible. You even found two baskets that can be used as makeshift baby bassinets. You take blankets to stuff inside to make little mattresses for them.

You pile both baskets on top of each other as you make your way back towards the cave, most of the off-duty members were already on the ship getting ready to sleep. As you are about to do too.

You walk into the ship, the cold blast from the cooling system washes over your overheated skin. You can definitely feel a little bit of a burn from the sun. You open the door to see your little room was more like home. The droid had set up the cot to be more comfortable for you, there were some other scavenged things like crates that are holding clothing and other supplies. You lay the baskets on the floor next to each other so you could put the babies inside.

“Thank you for getting this room ready for us.” You gratefully thank the droid.

You kiss their little foreheads, putting a pacifier in both of their mouths. Your hands go up to the rim of the baskets to gently rock them both to side to lull them to sleep.

You gently sang them a lullaby that’s been passed down generations through your village, it was in a different language but it was almost enchanting. The lyrics hint around to the use of the Force and crystals that make light.

Ellie and Ani slowly begin to fall asleep, their little bodies are snuggled up in their new beds.

Quietly, you stand up to get ready for bed yourself. You untie your boots and put them under your cot.

You noticed that there are some new items of clothing like pairs of shorts and short-sleeved tops. You pull on some comfortable clothing and get under your covers. The cot isn’t the most comfortable thing but as soon as your head hits the pillow, you fall asleep.

Something stirs inside of you, Leia’s voice interrupts your dreams. “Come meet me outside.” She speaks to you.

You inhale sharply as you wake up, sitting up quickly to put your shoes on. The droid wakes up, “Where are you going?” She asks, “I need to go see Leia. Watch the kids for a sec.” You whisper as you sneak out of the room, the halls have people on the floor in sleeping bags so you’re tip-toeing around them.

You walk out into the night air, it’s still humid but it’s quite chilly. You see light behind a curtain, that must be Leia. You pull the curtain to the side, seeing her sitting on her bed.

“I’m glad you got my message.” Her voice is soft as she turns around to look at you. Her hand pats the empty space next to her for you to sit. You comply and plop down, her hand grabs yours to hold it.

“What happened back on Hoth?” She asks. You can tell she has an idea of what it was about but not fully aware of why you chose to turn against them.

“Kylo Ren, he’s in my mind. He told me not to get on the ship, he promised me that he wouldn’t fire on you if I would stay behind.” You look down, knowing what she’s going to ask next, “He found us because I let my guard down around him and he went through my head without me knowing.” You look at her and she has a sad smile on her face. You start to let the tears fall from your eyes, your heart wrenches.

She knows you’re in pain. “You want to be with him, I know. The bridge connecting your minds makes it more painful to be apart. I’m sorry he used you to get information. I don’t know why he chose this path for his life. I know deep down that my Ben is in there somewhere. He needs to come home.” She wraps her arms around your body as you slowly start to lay on her lap, still sobbing.

“When you’re ready. You need to start training with Rey. I’m sure it will be beneficial for you. It’ll help control his voice in your head and keep you grounded from him corrupting you.” Her hand plays with your hair, pulling it out of your face.

You nod, sniffling as you try to calm your emotions. “Thank you, Leia. I’m so sorry.” You sigh. You’re still guilty for leading the First Order to them.

“There’s no need to be sorry. Everything happens for a reason. Relocating here is going to be a new start for the Resistance.” You smile at her words, wanting to fall asleep but you know you need to go back to your children. You slowly stand up from the bed, pulling away from her for a moment. You lean forward to give her a hug, tears start to fall again so you pull back to wipe them away.

“Goodnight, Leia. Thank you, again.” You smile as you pull the curtain back to its original spot, the light turns off in her little room and you start to make your way back to your bed.

The next morning, you’re in a much better mood. The twins didn’t wake up in the middle of the night and you didn’t get woken up by them. Of course, you got up in the middle of the night to check on them to see if they’re still breathing. (And they were, of course)

You got up in the morning, fed them and had a little snuggle session with them both. You eventually get into some clothing so you could help out with getting the base more situated. You tell the droid to care for the babies until you get back.

When you open the door to your room, the hallways are busy with people coming in and out of the ship. You look at the floor to see all the sleeping bags are cleaned up. You walk outside, the sun shines bright at the entrance of the cave. It’s much cooler inside the cave thankfully. You notice that the command center is completely set up and Rey’s little ledge is too.

She’s sitting up there reading one of her Jedi books, her hairstyle is back to her original one with the three buns. You take a deep breath, looking away before she notices you staring.

A loud crash echoes in the cave, panicked beeps from BB-8 makes you turn your head. You instantly see Poe and Finn struggling with a heavy crate. You walk up to them, “You guys need help?” You give them a playful one-sided smile. They’re sweaty and out of breath. Finn goes to talk but Poe cuts him off, “No, we’re okay. Thanks though.” He huffs, his black hair rises from his breath. Finn turns towards him with his face screwed up in confusion, he obviously thinks otherwise.

You just giggle at his stubbornness, “Let me help. Where does it need to go?” You ask.

Finn looks at you and rolls his eyes at Poe, “Thank you. It needs to go to that side of the cave.” He points at the opposite end where it’s at. You raise your eyebrows and take a deep breath. “Let me see if I can do it myself.”

The two men look even more confused when you say that, they look at each other then back at you. “Seriously. Move.” You shoo them with your hands, they back up to give you space.

Your hand goes out, the crate creaks as you try to pick it up with your mind. You concentrate enough to pick it up only a few inches from the ground and slowly move it towards where it needs to go. One corner scrapes against the concrete floor here and there. Suddenly, it gets easier to carry then Rey walks around the other side of the large crate. Her hand is extended too and she smiles at you which you return.

You both use the Force to move it across the cave, people move out of the way as you both lay it down gently. Poe and Finn were following close behind, “Thanks, ladies.” Poe smirks as he cracks open the crate, one side falls off and reveals the disassembled parts to something he needs to build.

You put your hands on your hips in accomplishment, looking over to see Rey but she’s already walking away towards the exit of the cave. BB-8 beeps at you, gently pushing into your side. He wants you to follow her.

You shake your head, “No, it’s okay. Another day.” Then he beeps at you angrily now, bringing out the taser to ‘threaten’ you. “Hey, hey! Calm down, dude.” Poe yells at him from behind.

You just laugh and put your hands up in surrender as you walk towards Rey to follow her. You hang back pretty far so she doesn’t know you’re stalking her with the orange and white droid.

She takes a turn onto a different path, it’s less prominent and it leads right into the jungle. She steps over twigs and rocks as she moves quickly so you have to follow her fast.

BB-8 rolls on the twigs, they crack under his body which causes her to turn around and spot you both. “I knew it. I could feel somebody following me.” She walks up with a wide smile, “If you wanted to train with me, you could have asked.” She looks at you and motions with her head to follow you.

After a few minutes of hiking, your group comes up onto an opening in the trees. It’s big enough for a tie-fighter to land on the grass. There are rocks and plants everywhere. The sun rays come through the trees, casting bright lines through the branches and leaves.

“I found this place yesterday when we got here. It’s very peaceful and quiet.” She smiles as she plops down on the grass. You do the same. She meditates with you just like on Hoth, you don’t levitate but she does. You wonder if it’s just your change of mindset.

She turns her lightsaber on, it’s Luke’s saber she fixed a while ago. She swings it around, the noise echoes in your ears. “Do you want to try?” She asks.

The last time you yielded a saber was when you grabbed Kylo’s and she’s when they were fighting. “Yeah, I’d love to.” She turns it off and hands it to you. “Make sure you hold it right so you don’t hurt yourself. Then turn it on.”

You wrap your hand around the hilt, you click the button and the blue light rises out of the base. Your eyes look over the color, completely entranced. The sound of it as you twirl it is almost addicting. You smile wide as you move with it carefully.

You experiment and swing it like you would with your staff. You begin to get more comfortable with the blade as you spin your body around and swing it. You don’t mean to but somehow you cut right through a tree. You stumble backward and hit the button to turn it off. The tree begins to fall down, thankfully in the opposite way you guys are standing.

“It’s okay. Accidents happen.” Rey takes the saber from your hand with a laugh, “On Ahch-To, I cut right through a boulder with it.” She laughs and shrugs as she clips it back to her belt. “You’re pretty good with it. Maybe we can get you your own. Let’s go back to the base thought so nobody starts to worry.”

As you’re walking back, you hear a little voice in the back of your head. It’s almost like it’s muffled, you can barely hear it. You don’t mean to stop in your tracks but you zone out as you focus on it.

The voice gets clearer as you listen intently. It’s Kylo.

Anger rushes through your veins. Rey can feel your sudden shift in mood and turns around.

“I want you to be with me. Become my apprentice again, don’t let her train you. She is unsuitable to be your teacher.”

You try to ignore him but it’s almost impossible, “You used me! I don’t understand. I don’t want you to teach me your ways! Leave me alone!” You scream out loud, your hands go over your ears. It sounds like he’s screaming into both of your ears. You feed off of his anger and fall to the ground, the earth around you shakes from the power coursing through your veins. It shoves Rey, she stumbles backward and trips on some rocks.

“You could be so much more powerful if you come back to me. I can feel the anger coming from you. Feed off of it. Escape. Come back to me.”

She instantly stands up and brushes off her pants as she runs towards you, “Don’t let him do this to you! He’s like Snoke. You can’t let him corrupt your mind.” Her hand touches your back and you jolt away in fear. You come back to your senses as you lay back on the dirt and pebbles. You stare up at the sky as you breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.

Kylo isn’t like Snoke. He’s not. You can’t let her think that way of him. He just wants the best for you... Right?

You slowly sit up from the ground and look at Rey, “He’s not like Snoke. If he was, he would’ve told me to murder every single one of you but he didn’t.” You snap as you stand up. “I understand you’re trying to help but I can’t do this. I thought meditating would have helped but it just made it worse.” You storm past her to make your way towards the base.

Over the past couple of days, Kylo tries to reach out to you again. It’s not as powerful as last time but he’s still in the back of your mind. It’s making you crazy.

You spend most of your time in your room with your children and the droid. You’ve named her Mary since her model number begins with MRY. You only leave to take a shower and get food.

Leia starts to get worried for you since you’re pulling yourself away from everybody. She visits you quite a few times since she loves to see her grandchildren.

You don’t want to be with the Resistance or the First Order. You just want to live a peaceful life, it makes you sad that your children may not be able to grow up in a peaceful atmosphere.

Kylo doesn’t leave you alone. You try so hard but his voice echoes in your mind. It’s like you’re ignoring him but still listening at the same time.

You’re sleeping when he visits you through your Force connection. Kylo stands over top of you, his hand goes out to shove your shoulder with the Force. He wakes you up from a deep sleep and that’s when your ticking time bomb blows up.

“Are you kidding me?!” You whisper yell at him. Your eyes shoot open, catching his wide eyes with yours. “You’ve been keeping me up every single night with your stupid voice in the back of my head and now you have the audacity to show yourself?” He’s taken aback by your attitude towards him, “You used me, Kylo. There’s no way to deny that. I’m upset, disappointed and embarrassed. I get it. You want me to be with you again but I’m being pulled both ways! I love you so much but I love our children so much too. I want them to have a chance at a peaceful life! Like how I used to have on Jakku.”

You rub your temples with your fingertips, “I never met your other side, Kylo. But for some odd reason, I want a part of him to come back so you come to your senses and be with your children and me.” You groan in annoyance, closing your eyes tightly. When you open them, he’s still standing there looking down at you.

“You’ve never met Ben Solo. You wouldn’t like him. He’s too soft.” He bites back, “I know you’re being torn between me and the Resistance. You can’t have both. Just choose one.” He breathes out softly, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. You sit up in your cot, leaning back against the metal wall. The droid is powered down in the corner, your babies still fast asleep.

“I can’t just choose one. It’s too hard.” You put your face in your hands. He bends down to take them away from your face, looking into your eyes. When he touches your skin, little tingles are felt where his fingertips are.

“I understand. I went through it myself.” He looks down, “I didn’t want to use you to retrieve information. It wasn’t my intention to upset you.” That’s as close as you’re possibly gonna get to a sorry from him.

“Yeah, well it did hurt me.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you look from him as well. He starts to lean forward, trying to catch your lips with his. You let him kiss you but you pull away after a moment.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can trust you yet.” You breathe out, your eyes looking down at his lips and back up to his eyes.

He’s staring at you angrily, he’s frustrated from your words. “You don’t trust me?” He questions as he stands up quickly from his spot.

You don’t say anything as the connection falls through and he disappears. You fall to the side against your pillow, digging your face into the fabric as you groan.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to him. Although, you were afraid he was going to try to go through your mind again. You have to protect the Resistance

.@officiallpeterparker @funnysadshit @ymariejp @attorneyl @fangirl570 @trinityrud20 @kylos-sassy-cousin @delicatelyherdreams @fizzywoohoo @savvy7392 @angelias134 @that-girl-named-alex @cas-backwards-tie @glimmering-darling-dolly @glitterypinkkitty @blxkstar @his-snow-white-queen @elsasshole @smiithys @nanocoool @deathbyarabbit @alex-skr @theholycakehole @averillian @crazynocturnalkiki @arcanebabe @tinydancer40 @superduckypower @thomasscresswell @butterfly-writes @thatintrovertedbisexual @fangirlanotherjust @somekindofroger @nicci442 @little-girl-who-dream-too-much @wildest-dream- @silverlambcaptain @cliffordmess @xkylorxn @lowkeyofsassguard @nickangel13 @carol-twinklefists-danvers @oopsiedoopsie23 @fandomshit6000 @baba-eina @cosmichellfire (for some reason it won’t let me tag a few of you i’m sorry)

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ohshit-itsyagorl · 4 years

Text

Four Dipshits and a Michelle

Part 1

Hey, Loves! This is a fanfiction I’ve been working on recently. Hope you like it!

Summary: Michelle never believed in soulmates. But what happens when she turns seventeen and gets her mark? What happens when she inevitably finds the person with the matching tattoo? And what is she supposed to do with Peter Parker. Her best friend in the whole world. Her crush. Someone she feels drawn to for some inexplicable reason.

Michelle Jones never understood the infatuation human society had with soulmates.

As a little girl full of hopes and dreams, she admits she was rather fond of the idea: someone out there who was perfect for her, someone who she could share her life with, her soul-bonded partner.

Until her mom got sick. And her dad started treating his wife like his own personal punching bag and then left them with barley enough money to get by. And that sucked, but Michelle could deal with it. She really could.

(But she was not okay.)

But after that initial honeymoon phase, after seeing a relationship that was supposedly written in the cosmos fall apart, she was wrenched back to a sad, logical reality.

After giving up on her soulmate, she found it grating how often it came up in seemingly normal discussion.

This, Michelle thought, was rather ridiculous, considering they were all freshman in high school, and wouldn’t be turning 17 for at least two years, three for most of them.

When she woke up on the morning of February 27th, she was not expecting the day to be anything special or different.

Trudging to the bathroom, half asleep with hair in her mouth, she thought she might pass out. Damn her for opting to take the PCB (physics, then chemistry, then biology) route instead of being normal like almost every other kid at Midtown Tech.

The only bonus to PCB was that she had the same kids in her science class every year. Betty and Cindy and Ned and Peter. The only downside was Flash, who was insufferable on the very best of days. He was also on the PCB track.

(Ugh.)

Point was, Michelle had stayed up super late the previous night studying for a massive test with Peter and Ned, and she was absolutely exhausted.

(Physics could be a bitch sometimes.)

“Hey, Sweetie, how did you sleep?” Her mom was laying on the couch, nose shoved into her book, right arm hooked up to an IV. When Michelle didn’t answer immediately, she looked up and let out a soft oh. “Rough night?” She asked.

Michelle sighed. “Yeah. Big test today. Studied with the losers last night.”

“Well, good luck, honey.” MJ started walking toward the door. “Oh, and, Michelle? Don’t call your friends losers.”

Michelle ran a hand through her hair, the chocolate curls a tangled mess perched atop her head.

————————————————————

“Hey, MJ.” Michelle looked up to see Peter waving at her, toothy grin and glasses and a dark blue sweater. She narrowed her eyes, shaking her head. Too early, Idiot.

Physics went as well as could be expected. Lunch was a different story.

“I can’t wait,” Betty said dreamily. “I wonder what they’ll look like.”

“I wonder what my soulmark will be,” Ned said, looking up from his English notes. “With my luck, it’ll be worse than that senior with a foot tattooed down the right side of his face.”

Michelle snorted. “Yeah, maybe it’ll be a giant dick or something.”

“Maybe yours’ll be a unicorn, MJ. You know, to match your personality,” Ned fired back.

She stiffened, looking around at the group. ‘‘I don’t want a soulmate,” she muttered.

“What? Why not?” Cindy exclaimed, her eyes almost comically wide.

Peter looked up at that. His glasses had fallen down his nose considerably, and he shoved them back up his face. Dork.

Michelle shrugged. “I just don’t. They’re pointless.”

“Well,” Peter started, “maybe one day you’ll change your mind.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not likely, Parker.”

“Tell that to your soul-bonded partner.”

A soft chorus of oohs echoed from the Table around her. She needed new friends.

“Whatever. Even if I find my soulmate, I’ll just avoid them like the plague. Shouldn’t be that hard with all my practice when it comes to you lot.”

Peter let out a small uh-huh, and went back to whatever the hell it was he was doing.

It wasn’t like she and Peter didn’t argue. As best friends, it was kind of part of the job description. But Peter and Ned already knew how she felt about soulmates and soulmarks. Michelle was surprised he had pushed her on that front. Weird.

She cleared her throat.

—————————————————————

Sophomore year rolled around, and with it came Academic Decathlon. Michelle befriended Liz almost immediately. She was so nice, and perfect, and smart.

About halfway through the year after a field trip for AcaDec, Peter missed school for over a week. Something about catching a bug on the trip. On day 10, Michelle went to his apartment.

May opened the door. “Oh, hey, MJ! Peter is in his room. He’ll be glad to see you,” she said, a smile gracing her face.

Michelle walked past May with a small nod of acknowledgement. When she entered Peter’s room, she was fairly surprised to see that he, in fact, did actually look very sick. He was on the floor covered in sweat and shaking.

“Ohmigod, Peter! Are you okay?”

“Oh, MJ. Didn’t know you cared. How sweet of you,” he managed through chattering teeth.

“I don’t, Loser. Here,” Michelle leaned down, “let me help you to your bed.”

“No!” Peter scrambled backward over a pile of schoolwork, the pages sticking to his hands. The sweat, probably, thought Michelle

She quirked an eyebrow.

“I, uh—I don’t want to get you sick, is all,” he explained.

“Whatever, Loser,” she said. “I brought you your schoolwork, so… here you go.” She dropped the stack onto his unoccupied bed, spared Peter one more glance, shrugged, and turned to walk out of the room.

“MJ, wait. Thank you, for, uh, for the schoolwork.”

She flipped him off on the way out the door. Weirdo.

Peter started changing after that. He started filling out his shirts more. She figured he had started working out or something.

Not that she was looking at him. Because she wasn’t.

He no longer wore glasses, and dropped out of marching band and robotics club. He disappeared at nationals, showing up only for the ride home after the fiasco at the Washington Monument (of all the times to gain a rebellious streak AcaDec nationals was not the time or the place). Michelle glared at him nonstop for a week after that.

People started avoiding the topic of soulmates and soulmarks around her, knowing it was a touchy subject.

Over the course of the year, Michelle grew closer to Peter and Ned than the other kids in Acadec.

—————————————————————

“MJ?” Peter looked back at her from where he was squatting down in front of the DVD player. He was wearing sweats and a math pun t-shirt that stretched tightly across his chest. His arms across his legs were lithe and muscled. How had she never noticed before…

And she was staring. Michelle blushed furiously. Peter smirked. She flipped him off. He chuckled.

“What do you want?” She asked. His hair was gelled back like every day, but it was a bit mussed, falling onto his forehead. Her blood heated. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, wondered how soft it would be.

Peter ran a hand through said hair, biting his lip. “Have you—uh—have you ever seen The Princess Bride?” He asked.

MJ rolled her eyes. This boy. “Bits and pieces. I was never really interested in that mushy, gushy, sappy shit. Besides, we are not watching that.”

“Uh, yeah, we are. It’s simply tragic how your previous social circle failed you,” he said, scrunching his nose up. It was cute annoying.

Michelle squinted at him, mouth becoming a thin line. He smiled back innocently. She flipped him off. Again.

She relented in the end.

Peter hopped up next to where she was sitting, stretching his arms up and over the back of the couch. Michelles’s eyes snagged on the bit of exposed skin where his shirt had ridden up. Were those… abs? She shook her head, looking back toward the now-glowing TV screen. Her nerdy best friend Peter Parker could not have abs. But.

Michelle had to admit that the movie wasn’t actually as bad as she had initially thought. The reason for that was mostly Peter. The absolute dweeb was acting out the fight scenes with himself. Watching Peter try and punch and defend himself at the same time was pretty funny.

MJ looked over at Peter during the end of the movie. He was looking at her.

“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?” He blurted, then proceeded to clap a hand over his mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. You really, uh, really don’t have to answer that.”

And maybe it was the laughter they had shared together. Maybe it was the way she felt safe around him, or how his hair curled behind his ears, but, “My parents were soulmates. It—it didn’t work out."

That was all she was willing to share.

Peter nodded, swallowing thickly and looking back to the movie. “I think Ned’s right,” he said. Michelle raised an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat, “Your soulmark is definitely going to be a unicorn. Or a pegasus. Or a rainb—”

“Shut up, Parker.”

Peter raised his hands defensively, grinning.

They talked for another hour, but Peter couldn’t seem to drop the conversation about soulmates.

“Hey, MJ?” He said, giving her a curious look.

Michelle hummed.

Peter ran a hand through his hair. With all the posing while acting out the movie, it looked like he had just gotten out of bed. Maybe even just had—

No. Best friend. Peter was her best friend. Nothing more.

“On your birthday,” he ventured, “when you get your mark, will you tell me about it? We could, like, make fun of each other’s or something. Once I get mine, that is.”

Michelle hesitated. Then: “Sure, okay. Yeah, that sounds good.”

Peter beamed at her and her heart did a backflip. It was worth talking about her soulmark to see that smile, different from his usually timid upturned lips. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Awesome! What are best friends for if not to make fun of shit,” he said.

Best friend. The words stung a bit, even if they were true.

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

Junior year came faster than any of them expected, and with it, standardized testing. Michelle was sad that Liz had moved away the year prior when her dad was caught selling alien technology illegally, but she was excited to be team captain this year. She, Peter, and Ned had all celebrated with aLord of the Rings movie marathon, but over the past few months, Peter and Ned had been sharing hushed conversations. MJ wasn’t sure what was going on, but it made her feel kind of shitty—like she was being pushed out of their friend group.

But then Peter would shoot her a shy smile, and she would feel a little better. There was definitely something going on, though.

Betty got her mark over the summer—a small cat’s eye in the palm of her left hand—but she had had no luck finding the person with the matching tattoo, much to her chagrin.

Michelle truly felt like she was rocketing toward her birthday. Somehow, she and Peter had found a way to turn her soulmate into a bit of a joke, which helped. A little.

That’s how Michelle found herself on the phone with Peter, wearing a tank top and shorts in the middle of winter, watching the seconds tick down to midnight.

“I’m so excited,” Peter said over the phone. “I can’t wait to see if it’s a unicorn or a pegasus.”

“Can it, Parker,” Michelle snapped. She was strangely terrified, though she wasn’t sure why.

“Okay, Magic Princess Unicorn—”

“I mean it, Pete.”

“Ten seconds, MJ.”

“Shit,” she whispered, hands shaking as she hastily put Peter on speaker, and set down the phone, turning to face the floor-length mirror.

“Do you see anything?” He asked. Did he sound… nervous?

Michelle scanned her arms and legs in the mirror, turned around and did the same on the back. “Fuck.”

“What?” Peter said, voice crackling over the phone. “What is it? Is it a Unicorn?”

“No,” Michelle gasped out. “I don’t see anything.”

It was true she didn’t want anything to do with her soulmate, but it did hurt that she didn’t even have one.

She let out a sob, then slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

“MJ—MJ, calm down. It’s probably just somewhere else. Try taking your clothes off.” Michelle felt her toes curl into the carpet, her breath hitched. “Fuck,” Peter said. “I didn’t mean it like that—fuck, that came out wrong.”

You don’t need to apologize, Michelle thought. Instead, she nodded, then, realizing he couldn’t see her over the phone, she cleared her throat and said, “No, I get it—what you meant, I mean.” She cringed, Christ, she was absolutely horrible at this. “God, I hope it’s not on my ass.”

Peter let out a bark of laughter. Michelle smiled, then remembered her situation, frowned.

“Stop frowning, you’ll get premature wrinkles,” Peter said.

Michelle frowned deeper. “How do you know I’m frowning?”

“I know you, MJ. Now stop frowning. There’s only one way to know if you have a tattoo on your ass,” Peter said, choking on the last word. “Just check.”

Michelle loosed a breath. “Okay. I guess you’re right.”

She turned back toward the mirror, reaching for the waistband of her shorts and underwear, pulling them both down at the same time. Nothing on the front. She shimmied around a bit, before giving in and stepping out of her shorts. She glanced over her shoulder into the mirror. Nothing.

She took off her tank top next, checking her back first, since she was already facing in that direction. Still nothing. She turned around and ran her fingers over her stomach. Nothing there, either. Goddammit.

She slowly reached back to unclasp her bra and let it slide down her arms. “Mother fucker,” she said quietly.

She’s not sure how, but Peter heard her. “MJ? What’s the status? Did you find it?”

“Yeah, I did. And I fucking hate the universe.” She hissed.

Peter laughed nervously. “Well, what is it? Where is it?”

“Like hell I’m telling you!” MJ screeched.

“C’mon, Michelle, we had a deal!” Peter said. She could picture him laying down in bed, then sitting up abruptly, hair mussed like that night they had watched The Princess bride together. And that strip of skin she’d glimpsed and—fuck, she was thinking about him while she was naked.

“Peter, I literally had to take all my clothes off just to find it. I am not telling you about this ever. God, this is so humiliating.” Michelle looked in the mirror again and winced. Staring back a her was her naked body, dark skin gleaming in the moonlight, curls coming down over her breasts. She moved her hair out of the way to get a better look at her mark, and… there it was. A fist-size black spider sitting in the middle of her left breast, right over her nipple. She groaned, burying her face in the crook of her elbow.

“Oh, c’mon, M. It can’t be that bad,” Peter said.

“It’s bad, Pete,” Michelle sighed. “Well, at least this way my soulmate won’t be able to see my mark.”

Michelle stroked a finger over one of the spider’s legs and shivered. Peter swore over the phone.

“What?” Michelle asked.

“Nothing,” Peter said, though his voice was shaky. “Just got a shiver. That’s what I get for not wearing a shirt.

This boy.

And now she was picturing him shirtless. Fuck. With that mussed-up hair. Double-fuck. She looked down to find that the hand near her breast had grabbed on, kneading the soft flesh. Holy mother of god, an infinite amount of fucks. But it felt good. Really good. She let out a quiet moan.

“MJ? What’s going on, are you okay?” How the ever-living hell did Peter keep hearing her? She could barely hear herself.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she managed. Thankfully she sounded normal, if not a little breathy. “Just a little messed up after seeing the mark, you know? I wasn’t expecting to feel so… attached to it.” Because that’s what it was, she realized. She could already feel her connection to someone else, and she hated herself for loving it, for craving that sensation to be stronger.

“Okay. We should probably both go to sleep anyway,” Peter said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” He sounded worried, but he was willing to give her space. That was one of the things she valued most about their friendship.

“Yeah,” Michelle said. Then, when she heard him start to shift, presumably on his bed (God help her), she interrupted, “and, Peter?” He hummed in response. “Put a shirt on. It’s cold out.”

He grunted. “Yeah, will do, M.”

Somehow Michelle got the feeling he wasn’t going to put on a shirt. Idiot.

Part 2

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #spideychelle #soulmate #soulmarks #peter x michelle #michelle jones #eventual smut #masterbation #best friends #au #peter parker soulmate

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