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darling-i-read-it · 10 months

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Survivor's Guilt Part 2

Part 1

Chris Redfield x fem!reader, Ethan Winters x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: angst on ethans side, re7 spoilers, canon violence (zombies, horror, guns), cheating kind of, near death experiences..i think thats it

Author’s Note: I felt like this story led organically towards Chris though that does not mean I don’t love Ethan to death. I felt unsure about the ending but am glad I was able to write a part 2 because people have been asking about it!

Tagging: (i hope you guys dont mind I’m tagging you but you seemed interested in a second part!) @godihatethiswebsite @undeadfreak47 @hexaecana @elysiaaaaaaa

Summary: You and Chris search for Ethan in the ship and old feeling resurface.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Chris’s voice was even when he spoke, even when he was scared. Especially when he

was scared. There was no point in making everyone else react to something if he could just keep that all pent up, make everyone think he had it under control. Your face was so wide with terror, the kind he had never seen plastered on your face before. He didn’t recognize it on your features but he recognized it. He knew it from the civilians he helped, those that were so worried about their loved ones that they would do anything to see them safe. The look in your eyes dripped with self sacrifice. He wondered if he looked like that when he was with you. He wondered if despite what he thought, he looked like that even now, following you around and blocking you from danger.

You had lost Ethan. Lost him in the house, on the ship. You were stuck walking around a shipwreck that was too large to case, too large to fully understand.

Chris was trying his best to make you feel like he had it under control. He would find Ethan, return him back to you, never see you again. The more time he spent alone with you the less that became a priority so he was eager to forget this ever happened. Forget it happened for the sake of his sanity. Forget that there was likely a life where you and he were happy and normal and domestic.

Even when you brushed past him in the tight hallways of the ship, he longed for your touch.

“If Ethan’s here then so is Mia,” you muttered. Your voice was barely above a whisper. It sounded so loud but you were trying to ensure it didn’t echo down the hallway. You could never be sure that there wasn’t something watching you.

“Eveline too,” Chris said, just as quietly. You were both tense as you walked around a corner. Chris hadn’t put his gun down in ages. It was starting to leave imprints in his gloved hands.

“It’ll be a party,” you muttered. Your eyes caught a glimpse of something on the ground. You rushed forward in the near darkness to find a knife, a lot like the ones left at the Baker house. It had dark blood smeared on the tip. There was nobody to accompany it.

“You think it’s Ethan’s?” he questioned, looking over your shoulder. You shrugged.

“Could be. Could be Mia’s.” You pocketed it. You kept walking. Chris followed you, watching your six like his life depended on it. You glanced back at him. “How did things get like this? When I left, all the monsters were tangible. I could see them coming for me. Now we’re here with slime on the walls?”

"There's some sort of hive mind,” he explained. “There’s too much to tell you now. You’ll just have to trust me when I say it’s evolved.”

“Yeah well, I can tell that it’s evolved. But how?”

“We don’t know.”

“You’ve been knee deep in this for so long and you still don’t know the reason it’s all happening? Is it Umbrella? Is it the world finally caving in?” You turned around to look at him. He almost ran into you. “Pretend I’m a civilian asking you these questions. How do you answer them? How do you tell people that you can be a perfectly nice family out in the middle of nowhere and still be targeted by something beyond your control?” His jaw set. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark so much so that you could see Chris’s stubble. You could see the look in his eyes, the challenge.

He took the words as an insult. He took you being here, as an insult. He had done so much to protect you just for you to end up in the same place you would’ve even if he had kept you by his side.

“Umbrella started something and they don’t know how to finish it,” he said finally. “But the world has assured us that there are other forces at work here. Eveline is not exactly an Umbrella creation.” You shook your head.

“Of course not. Because that would be too easy. You defeat the big bad and it always comes back with more heads right?” You shook your head. “I’m sorry I’m coming at your throat. I just never thought I would be here again.” You had been comforted with the knowledge that people like Chris were out there protecting you. That was the only reason you let yourself go.

“The world isn’t exactly fair.”

“It never has been.”

Your eyes lingered on his. Remembering what it was like to touch him. Remembering what he looked like in the morning, the sun on his face, a gentle smile on his lips, a chaste kiss on your skin. The very thought made you angry. You had left all of this to have a life you weren’t even allowed to have anymore.

It didn’t matter if Ethan lived through this or not. You would be right back where you had started years before. In danger. Always.

There was a bang in the room before you. You turned around, gun raised again. It sounded like something hard had hit something metal. The conversation was over once again and you were back.

You slowly slipped back into the you that understood how to use this gun well. The rust was chipping off. You were a soldier again. Had you ever stopped? Had your life with Ethan been anything except a distraction from who you really were? Had you been pretending this whole time to be something you knew you could never have?

You shoved the door open.

Mia stood at the end of the room. There was a large pipe surrounded by grated walkways. She was facing you. Even though she was hidden by her dark hair, you recognized her instantly. She was swaying a bit, twitching.

“Mia,” you prodded. Her neck twitched. You saw an eye peek from behind her hair. “Mia, please put your hands in the air.” She didn’t make any movement, indicating that this was the Mia that took your boyfriend's hand off. Your face hardened as you approached her, gun raised, wondering if Ethan was already dead. “Mia.”

She lunged at you without saying anything. She threw no insults, she didn’t bother to pretend. She just lunged. You shot at her but it only momentarily stopped her. It was like you had thrown a ball at her shoulder instead of a bullet. You kept shooting, even though it was doing effectively nothing. She reached you, hands on your sides with inhuman strength.

You could hear Chris moving. You had never been more glad you had called him. You struggled with Mia, her snarls biting at air. You kicked her, you scratched at her, you used everything you could remember from training.

She was thrown off you.

You scurried away, backing away. You grabbed your gun which you had lost in the scuffle. You aimed it well, hitting her head in a clean shot. It went through her eye and out the other side. She stumbled.

Someone was picking you up. You grabbed them, allowing them to help you to your feet. You recognized Chris as you stood against him, still shooting at her until the clip was empty. Your breathing was ragged and angry and worried.

She fell to the ground.

You knew she wouldn’t be down long. You had to leave. You had to lock her in this room and burn the place down.

Chris did the thinking for you. He had your arm in his hand, dragging you past her and out of the room. He shut the door behind him, pushing down on the handle. He broke it.

You stared at the clouded window and felt a pang of guilt mixed with anger. She was the reason you were here. Now she was going to die, infested by a virus that wasn’t her.

You were still holding on to Chris. You might’ve stopped for a moment but now your hand was back on his arm, your brain blurry with thoughts. He looked down at you, eyes meeting.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t think about kissing him. You just did it.

Your lips were on his and it felt like home. It felt like you had never left, like you had kissed him yesterday and you would kiss him tomorrow. It was filled with the emotion of every single year you had been apart, by everytime you wondered if he was dead in a ditch, everytime you got drunk and swore not to think about him.

His strong hands were so gentle when they held you.

Though passionate, the kiss was short lasting.

You pulled away and your eyes stayed shut for a moment, pretending you were home with him, like you had never left. Then they were open again and the nightmare remained.

There was no regret in his eyes. There was no regret in yours. It was a mutual feeling, broken only by the duties of soldiers who had loved each other for a little too long. The bucket had overfilled and tipped over.

“We have to find Ethan,” he reminded you.

Ethan.

Guilt hit you like a truck. He could be dead. You looked forward, giving no other words to justify or break what had just happened. Chris let you be, let the kiss hang in the air.

Ethan was not far. Chris had called for backup when you entered the ship and his friends arrived just in time. You helped Ethan finish off Eveline and were shot out of the ship, landing hard back in the outside world. Chris’s people carried you away in a helicopter as the nightmare of the Baker house erupted in flames. What had been a horror was now nothing but a burnt part of the map, something people would merely whisper about.

Chris brought you back to where the BSAA had set up camp.

You had a hand in Ethan’s. He looked exhausted. There was something off about the look in his eyes but you couldn’t place it and you didn’t feel like asking him about it. Questions like that came later, when you were less tired and more hydrated.

“I’m sorry I lost the cars,” he muttered. He was sitting on the makeshift hospital bed. There was no one else there. People had gone to try and find Lucas, who had been lost in the fire and not confirmed dead. You were sitting in a chair beside him, in silence.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I’m sorry about Mia.” He took a deep breath. He did not tell you it was okay.

“We’re gonna bring in the best medical help,” Chris explained. He watched as Ethan’s hand left yours. “Doctors are coming in right now to look you both over.”

“What about you?” you questioned. “You were in there, just the same as me.”

“I’ll get looked at. I have to go with my team back in and find Lucus.” Your jaw hardened.

“The work doesn’t end,” Ethan observed. He understood why you left.

“By yourself?” you questioned.

“I’m a big boy,” he promised you. You purse your lips, glancing at Ethan. You had no idea the world was this bad. You had no idea it had gotten so much worse since you left the job.

“Let me go with you.” He shook his head.

“Absolutely not.”

“No.” Him and Ethan spoke over each other. You gave Ethan a look.

There was something in your eyes that he didn’t recognize. He wondered if he had lost you the second he left your house without telling you. Had that been the breaking point in your relationship? Did relationships survive things like this?

Yours and Chris’s did, Ethan thought. You and Chris slipped back into each other like puzzle pieces. It was like no time had passed. No kind of ill will had come between the two of you, from the looks of it right then. Ethan wanted to desperately grab your hand, beg you to stay with him, tell you that he couldn’t afford to lose both you and Mia. Instead he watched your face as you looked at Chris.

“I’m a big girl Chris.”

“You’ve been out of the game for too long. You can’t just jump back in like this.”

“I just did. I have knowledge of the interior, we were just there Chris. It would be smarter to bring me.” Chris and you stared at each other with looks that Ethan could be envious of. Challenging, protective, loving. “Let me go back. Let me back in.”

This life was like a drug. You could be gone forever but the second you could come back it was too addictive to stay away from. You stood up.

“You’re the captain now hm? You tell them I can help. You know I can help.” You walked up to him.

“I almost lost you back there.” He didn’t specify that it was the fight with Mia that had him particularly worried but you knew it was. You knew that he was also thinking about the kiss that happened right afterwards.

It hadn’t left your mind.

“Chris I’ll find my way back here either way,” you muttered. “There’s no use in trying to stop me.”

If Ethan wasn’t there he would’ve kissed you. Instead he dipped his head.

“Talk to your boyfriend about it.” You looked back at Ethan. Chris left the tent. You were left alone together for the first time since before the whole ordeal. Conflicted, you walked back to him.

“Go,” he said, voice strong.

“Huh?” Ethan’s face was soft and understanding.

“Go.” There was a beat of silence as you stared at him, trying to read his expression. He had just been through everything and was letting you go? “I know why you left this. But this is your life, isn’t it?” Your face scrunched into a hurt expression.

“Not necessarily-”

“The only reason you left is because you wanted to prove a point to him. You proved your point.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I want to go home. I want to take you with me. But I don’t think that’s what you want and that’s okay.”

“Ethan-”

“It’s not what you want, right?” You remained quiet. You couldn’t argue with that. He was right. You wanted to stay here. You wanted to get back into a fight you had once been so passionate about. He nodded once. You weren’t sure if he was numb or in complete control. “Exactly.” He grabbed your hand. “I dragged you back into this the second I believed that email.”

“But the house,” you whispered.

“We’ll figure it out. Just go. Please.” You nodded curtly.

“Okay,” you breathed. He wouldn't look at you. You got up slowly, wondering if this was really happening. You tried to tell yourself doing it now was for the best. This is the only outcome that would’ve made any sense.

You left the tent.

“Oh shit.” You looked up. You were met with John Perlman, someone you used to work with. He was older now but had the same slanted smile. “The rumors are true.”

“Perlman,” you breathed, laughing a bit.

“How are you doin girl?”

“I’m okay,” you said and you meant it. You were alright. You were gonna be alright.

“I hear you’re going back to the tunnels with the boss,” he observed. “You back in it?” Your eyes searched for Chris. You found him in front of a different tent, grabbing a box of things.

“I guess so.” “He kept all your things when you left,” Perlman explained. “I’m sure he’s still got ‘em. It’s nice to have you back.” He pat your back before walking past you. The short conversation ended. Chris approached you with the box.

“Well?” he asked.

“I’m ready Cap.” He nodded once and then handed you what he was holding. You looked down in it. The Dragoon you had used for years sat at the top of the box. “You kept all this?”

“Just in case.”

“You broke up with me, you know that?” you looked back up at him.

“If you’re gonna be in this I’d rather you be in this with me.” He gave you a curt nod. “We had out in 15.”

He started to walk away.

“Wait! Wait Chris,” you called. You put the box down by your feet. He turned around just in time for you to throw your arms around him. You kissed him again, this time like you weren’t about to die. He held you tightly to him, comfortably.

He’d be okay. You would be okay.

#chris redfield x fem!reader #chris redfield x reader #ethan winters x fem!reader #ethan winters imagines #resident evil imagines #chris redfield x reader x ethan winters #chris redfield x fem!reader x ethan winters

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moonfurthetemmie · 2 years

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Unlucky Meeting of the DS Verses

There is Yet Another

No warnings, other than Mentioned Karen Encounter and also delusion is trying to help and doesn’t realize that actually he is. not

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Blue was exhausted. He’d had the misfortune to stop in a the produce aisle, off to the side out of the way, near a Karen, and had to spend half an hour trying to escape her wrath.

Okay, it probably wasn’t really half an hour, but it sure felt like it. He just wanted to get some carrots and celery for his soup and go home, he wasn’t trying to block her from her pre-cut mixed fruit platter for her kid’s party. He didn’t care; he just wanted to get his groceries and go home, and this lady had decided she needed to drag him through the dirt for stopping his cart in front of the fruit for sixty seconds.

He got it. He really did. He didn’t have the energy to cut up fruit most of the time, and those pre-sliced fruit things were a godsend. But dear lord.

He finally managed to get out of the store with all of his groceries, and had even made it to his Outertale timeline and was walking home when he heard the familiar woosh of a portal opening overhead.

He glanced up, expecting a traveling bird monster or something, but instead finding Dream gliding over the empty streets of the small town.

He nearly dropped his eggs when Dream spotted him and made his way down, landing in front of him and spreading his wings majestically. Only the did Blue realize this wasn’t the Dream he knew. He was...orange. Way too orange. He held himself more like a lord, and his face was almost perfectly void of emotion, other than a hint of a content smile, and some mild curiosity. And his wings were shedding at…a rather alarming rate. Was he sick? Dream’s wings didn’t shed like that.

“You seem to be having some trouble.”

Blue blinked. “Wh-what? Oh! No, I’m fine, thank you.” He tried for a smile and readjusted his grip on the bag with the eggs. “Er, sorry, but- who are you?”

The strange Dream tilted his head down slightly. “Ah, my apologies. I am Dream, head of Justice Reigns, though judging by your reaction, I take it you know me.” That content smile grew ever so slightly into a dryer one. “Or, at the very least, some variation of me.” He glanced around, as if surveying the area, before looking back to Blue. “Would I be correct in assuming your name is Blue?”

Blue swallowed. “Um…yes. You know some…alternate of me, then?”

‘Dream’ hummed in thought. “Yes…I encountered odd versions of a trio that my organization is attempting to arrest, and I assumed that I had found myself in another multiverse. I attempted to return to mine, but, as you can see, that didn’t quite work out.”

Blue resisted the urge to back up. Despite the soft, comforting feelings the radiant’s aura generated, there was something about this guy that was just a little off.

Blue chuckled nervously. “Well, I think the JR and Dream in this multiverse would be happy to…assist…you…”

The new Dream was giving him a strange look, and Blue trailed off slowly.

“…Are you alright?” ‘Dream’ asked. “You seemed stressed. Is something bothering you?”

“A-ah. I…may have irritated an entitled middle-aged white woman in the grocery store a bit earlier,” Blue said. “I’m just a bit…tired.”

‘Dream’s eyes were piercing. Blue swallowed nervously. He really wanted to get home.

The winged man lowered his voice. “I’m concerned you might be in some sort of trouble. Would you mind if I came with you to make sure you make it home safely?”

Blue felt a lump form in his throat. He did not want this guy to follow him home. He was afraid that he’d follow him even if he said no, though.

The strange Dream noticed his hesitation and said, very gently, “I understand if you’re wary of taking a stranger to your house, but I only wish to help.”

“I…Alright.” Blue swallowed. “It’s, um, just down the street.”

‘Dream’ gave him a slight smile. He offered to help carry some of Blue’s groceries, which was nervously accepted.

As they walked, Blue mentally berated himself. Why on earth did he agree? He wasn’t that stupid, was he? God, he hoped this guy would leave him alone afterwards. He knew better than to bring strangers home.

The strange clone of Dream seemed to enjoy the otherwise peaceful walk.

“Do you…um…” Blue tried to ignore the feeling that the stranger man’s eyes were boring into his soul. “Do you have…friends, who might also have been brought here?”

The other Dream hummed. “Not that I’m aware,” he said passively. “It’s possible, I suppose. I’m not certain.” His wings twitched. “I should probably visit this multiverse’s Justice Reigns, and ask your Dream if he’s heard anything.”

“I hope anyone that did end up here are alright,” Blue said.

“…Forgive me for the personal question, but do you live with family?”

Blue hesitated. “Er…Yeah. I live with my…sister.” He said, like a liar. “She’s at work currently.” Please don’t ask me what her name is.

“I see…” ‘Dream’ didn’t say anything for the rest of the walk. Blue breathed a sigh of relief.

They reached Blue’s house, without any of the trouble that ‘Dream’ had been afraid of. Blue unlocked the door and turned to the strange Dream. “Thank you for helping with the groceries.” He tried for a smile. It wasn’t as forced as it had been before; probably because he’d been hanging around in the man’s positive aura for a while. “I hope you get home safely.”

‘Dream’ didn’t smile this time. “Thank you. You still seem very anxious, though.” He handed Blue the rest of the groceries. “Would you like someone to stay with you?”

Blue’s throat went dry. He really, really didn’t.

“I-I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.” He went to hurry inside, but felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, that wasn’t as comforting as it was supposed to be.

The winged man didn’t move. “I would hate to leave and find out you got hurt because you were alone.”

Blue laughed nervously. “Well, as far as I know, no one’s after me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“I’d feel better knowing there was someone keeping an eye on you,” ‘Dream’ said. “At least until your sister gets home.”

The slightest raised eyebrow, and Blue felt his heart sink.

He never had been a good liar…

#Horror!DS #Dreamswap Blue #H!DS Delusion #fun fact! If Delusion had pressed for the name of Blue's 'sister' he probably would've panicked and said 'Error'#and she totally would've found out #'You told the delusion Dream with a murder aura that i was your sister.'#'i'm sorry i panicked'#'do you even have siblings'#'anyway so what's this about alternate me that won't leave your house'#don't worry about it error.#on the flip side Delusion is genuinely trying to help #and had no idea that Blue is afraid of HIM #i mean why would he be ahahah #he's a benevolent god Blue has nothing to be afraid of <33 #anyway. might end badly for blue's mental health

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rockingrobin69 · 2 years

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Cycle

“You.”

“Me.”

The huff is visible in the cold night air, glowing neon-bright against the club sign.

“Why am I not surprised to see you?”

“I don’t know. Why aren’t you surprised to see me?”

He thinks he’s so funny, doesn’t he. “Well, I suppose one’s childhood tendencies to follow their rival everywhere don’t really—”

“Oh, get over yourself. Pansy invited me.”

Eyebrows arch in surprise. “Pansy. Invited you. To their performance.”

“Yep, so, if you don’t mind, you’re sort of blocking the door…”

“Wait—” He follows him inside, barely even breathing, heart thumping to the electric beat and head fuzzy with smoke. “Bloody hell.”

“—You?”

“Me…” he leans his head on the sofa, eyes open wide. “Do you mean, if I could do anything in the world? Anything at all?”

“Yes. Anything.”

The flat smells like beer and sweat, like the party wasn’t over, but it’s just the two of them now, dreaming to the moonlight filtering through the blinds. “I don’t really know.” It hurts a little to admit, especially to these eyes, to that soft-soft smile he only recently discovered. But a hand reaches forward, softly stroking his hair.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to know anything right now.”

“But you do.”

“Well, I always have been one step ahead.” Bright laughter sends through his heart, luminous even in the dark. Was it always like this, and he’s somehow just… missed it?

“I like this. Whatever—this is. With you.”

The confession is just a whisper between them, until the hand slides to gently touch his face.

“Me too.”

A deep sigh. Where’s all his courage, now? Come on.

“Bloody hell,” he whispers, and dives forward.

“You—”

“Me!” an indignant gurgle follows the spill of wine. “You sure have some nerve, going on as if it were my fault!”

“Because nothing’s ever your fault, is it? Because I’m always the one who has to...”

The remains of what had been a lovely date decorate the floor, flowers trampled, surrounded by shards of crystal.

“This was a mistake. I never should have… what a stupid mistake.”

“Wait, you can’t just—”

The door slams.

“—Leave.”

The candlelight flickers.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs to the empty room.

“You…”

“Me!” the laughter roars in his ears, and something clicks back into place in the turmoil that used to be his gut. “You should have seen your face. I can’t believe our friends pulled… god, what a mess, isn’t it?”

“I’d say.”

There’s hesitancy in the hand reaching from the fire, but none in him taking it, only relief. And some pleading, perhaps.

“Come over for dinner? I made pasta. Your favourite sauce.”

“Mm. Not just a comedian, are you.” He counts the seconds before his fate is sealed; three, two… “All right. One dinner. Why not.”

“Bloody hell,” he agrees with a smile.

“You.”

“Me?”

Their hands clasped together, teary eyes chasing teary eyes.

“Of course, you ninny. I thought it was obvious.”

“Do you really—”

The air smells of lavender in the sunlight and of spring and of ever-nearing hay-fever, and the sky’s the clearest blue. The hand in his is warm, a bit sweaty. He presses a kiss to its back.

“Yes. Really. You, you, you.”

He keeps saying it, chanting, praying it as a warm body crawls on top of his, and the view of the sky is replaced by the face he loves, a worthy sacrifice.

“For me, as well. You.”

“Bloody hell,” he grins, heart beating so fast he’s dizzy, head fuzzy with happiness, “what a surprise.”

#drarry #fic #600 words #fluff #I guess #mentions of alcohol #meddling friends in the background #enemies to lovers in as little words as I could make it #RockingRobin69 #ambiguous/changing pov if you so wish

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yourmcu · 3 years

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Forgotten (CONTINUED VERSION)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Request:

Hello i love your story could you do angsty tony x daughter reader. Wherein the reader has a twin brother and Tony and the avengers prefer the twin brother and becaus of that, the reader became rebel and badass. She always getting trouble and almost drop out student. The avengers and her father were seem disappointed and dont know what to do. Not until the reader involve into car accident and she's critical injured. The reader also slipped to coma. Everyone is devastated about the reader conditione. And they realized that the reader only rebel because she wants to get attention from them. It depends to you what the end come, I just want a full angst this week and I hope you dont mind my English. Anyway I hope your alright.

A/n: y’all wanted it, I finished it :)

Word count: 3,984

(more notes at the end!)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort? bad writing of an anxiety attack, accident, knife, hospitals

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Being a genius/billionaire/superhero’s kid doesn’t always sound nice like it usually does.

You were one of the Stark twins, the other half being your brother, Ethan.

The both of you showed signs that you inherited the commonly known Stark trait (intelligence) at a young age. But Tony mostly focused on his son, showing him all his inventions and gadgets, teaching him everything he knew while you on the other hand, were being babysat by Happy or Pepper, sometimes Rhodey.

You tried so hard to get your father’s attention but he always had his excuses:

“I don’t have time for that.”

“I’m busy with Ethan right now.”

“Maybe later.”

At first you didn’t mind if your brother got all the praise and attention. It wasn’t until your mid-teens that you really started to feel left out and ignored.

You were left to frown when the other Avengers never found anything interesting about you, just like Tony did. They all liked Ethan better. The topic of him being the next Iron Man when Tony retires is getting exhausting.

There was this one time when Tony announced that they were all going out to dinner since Ethan got, yet again, a full set of A’s on his report card.

“Did you get my card?” You tapped on Tony’s shoulder lightly.

He gave you a side glance, “ah shoot, I forgot. I’ll go get it tomorrow.” Then returned his attention to your brother.

But he ended up forgetting again the next day and you had to convince your teacher to give it to you instead. Your marks had A’s, but littered with B’s as well, of course that was no match for your brother’s perfect marks.

And that sort of scenario wasn’t just a one time thing, Tony forgets to pick up your report card every. single. time. The messed up part was you and Ethan literally attended the same school, he was just in a more advanced class than you.

As time passed, Tony went from ignoring you to getting annoyed and pissed at you for everything you did. In his eyes, you were always in the wrong. And the reason? You didn’t know.

“Dad? Can I borrow Bruce for a minute?” You knocked on the glass door of his lab to get him to look up.

He didn’t, but responded, “kinda busy with him right now.”

You looked at your fractured arm, regretting your decisions. “W-well, Ethan was training with Nat, and... and he wanted to try the new moves he learned on me. He went a little hard and - I think my arm’s broken, I just wanted Bruce to check it out-”

“Goddammit!” He shouted after you heard a glass shatter. Bruce covered his face with palms, muttering an ‘oh no’.

Tony glared at you, striding to where you were standing. All that was left for you to do was to brace yourself for what was about to come. “See, this is why we never let you do anything with the team,” he spat. “That right there?”-he pointed to your arm-“that’s on you. Things go wrong because you’re in the way!”

“I’m... I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of here.”

Your arm remained untreated after that.

Then Peter Parker came into the picture. Friendly guy, he was actually nice to you. Him and Ethan got along right away when Tony first recruited him. The fact that he treated Peter better than you made you even more miserable. It made you think he never wanted a daughter in the first place.

You first met Peter when he accidentally entered your room without warning, thinking it was the bathroom. Cliche, but that’s what happened.

“It’s on the first door to your other left,” you stated.

“Yeah, yeah okay, thanks,” he turned around to leave but stopped to look at you again. “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

“Y/N Stark.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at your last name. “I... I didn’t know Mr. Stark had a daughter - no offense! It’s just-”

You sighed and waved him off. He didn’t even notice the similarities you had with your twin. “It’s fine. I get that a lot.”

After many events of being, to be blunt, treated like shit, you finally had enough. You neglected your studies, only went to school when you felt like it (which was rare). No one cared your grades anyway, so what’s the point? You became a whole new person, you surrounded yourself with the wrong sort of people, causing you to dabble into smoking and alcohol.

Since you were always in trouble, you could recite Cap’s detention speech at school by heart now.

The principal of your school wanted to see Tony to talk about your behavior. Normally he’d make an excuse not to go if it wasn’t that important but he got flooded with messages from the school, so he couldn’t say no.

You had your legs crossed, sitting across from Tony who had his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the principal. For some reason you didn’t feel nervous. “Y/N barely attends her classes. I’ve seen every attendance. Are you aware of this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony only maintained his usual relaxed posture and avoided your gaze.

“Some students have also seen her smoke in school grounds. We gave her a few weeks suspension for it, but it doesn’t look like she’s learned her lesson.” They pulled out a couple boxes of cigarettes from the desk drawer. “We found these in her locker.”

“You went into my locker?” You shot up from your seat. “You can’t just do that!”

Tony cleared his throat and got up, gripping your wrist. “I’ll take it from here - will that be all?”

On the way out he doesn’t say a word to you, only that his grip on your wrist got tight as you near the car.

“So,” he started the car. His voice was calm, but it screamed that you were in deep trouble. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You sighed and slouched in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms. “I’m... sorry you had to know...?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna be honest with you here,” Tony still doesn’t look at you. “When I found out I had two kids, I got worried about Ethan.”

You let out a snort. Of course he would.

“I didn’t want him ending up like me. But surprise surprise, my daughter did instead.”

“I’m not ‘ending up’ like you, Dad-”

“Then what do you call - this,” he referred to you. “What, you’re just gonna waste your life, drop out of school? You’re a fucking mess, Y/N, and here I thought I raised you right. Sometimes I think: why can’t you just be like your brother?” He had a hard grip on the steering wheel as he drove, the way he spoke affected the speed of the car greatly.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t fine the exact words you wanted to say. “I... well, I’m sorry I’m not a goody two shoes like him!”

“That’s not what I-”

“Please, that’s exactly what you meant.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m grounding you until you pull yourself together, understand?” And he did. He gave new orders to Friday when the both of you got home. You weren’t allowed to leave the compound without Tony’s permission.

Were you giving up that easily? Of course not.

You were on your laptop for the rest of the day, hacking into Friday’s system, the security to the elevator and the entrance. That night, your executed your plan and everything went smoothly.

“This is why you never underestimate me,” you sighed, deactivating the hack once you were out of the building.

Your friend who was picking you up was already waiting a few blocks away from the compound. “I hope you’re cool with me staying over for a couple days.”

“If a bunch of Avengers come and destroy my place to look for you, I’m not going to be friends with you anymore.”

You laughed at out, “oh trust me, they don’t care.”

----

The next day no one noticed your absence, nobody did for another two days. Tony just assumed you were mad about your punishment, so he didn’t think of it much.

Not until Peter came to the compound on the third day, wanting to hang out with you.

“Whatcha got there, Pete?” Ethan asked.

“Star Wars movies. I wanna watch them with Y/N - she could use some company, don’t you think?”

The older Stark twin shrugged, “yeah, I guess she could.”

Peter then headed to the elevator and stopped at the floor where your room was. He knocked on your door and waited a bit, after a few minutes of silence he knocked again, still nothing.

“Y/N? Is it okay if I come in?” He called out. No response. He hesitated a bit, for all he knew you were probably changing or something, or you could be in danger. He went to open the door anyway. “I’m coming in, I’ll close my eyes just to be-”

To Peter’s surprise, your room was empty.

----

You were at a 711 parking lot, waiting for your friends who were buying supplies for a house party. You gave them your wallet, not really caring about anything anymore. Your phone was starting to pile up with messages and missed calls from Tony, Edward and Peter, occasionally from the others as you scrolled pass more.

Without thinking you threw your phone to the ground, cracking the screen, breaking it completely. They’d be able to track you through it now that they know you ran away. You really had no intention of coming back. You weren’t wanted, what’s the point of going back?It’s early but you’ve had a few drinks already. You weren’t sure if breaking your phone was a good idea but there’s one thing you’re sure: you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t have to turn your head to see who just arrived and ambushed your friends inside the store. They ran out and left you behind. The sound of webs coming out of his shooters was enough for you to tell.

“You shouldn’t be here, Peter,” you sighed defeatedly.

Peter gently took a seat next to you, not removing his mask since you were in public and handed your wallet back. “I don’t understand why you left.”

He took in your awful state. His suit scanned how intoxicated you were, estimated how many cigarette packets you’ve had. His frown deepened at the information.

“I care about you. We all do. Mr. Stark’s not going to stop the search party until you come home.”

You rolled your eyes at the term. “Stupid search party – pathetic – I’m not coming home anymore, Pete-” you slurred and tried to get up but stumbled back, almost twisting your ankle but fell to Peter’s side. “Ow.”

He sighed, struggling to get ahold of you since you always pulled away.

“Stop being so stubborn, okay?”

“If you don’t like my stubborn fucking ass then maybe you should just leave,” you stated. “I’m not wanted there. I got the message. I didn’t run away just to be fucking found.”

Peter stared at you for a moment. He didn’t know why you got grounded in the first place, how you got here and why you didn’t want to go back home. There was something off in the father-daughter relationship, he knew that, but it was news to him that it was that bad. That bad for you to waste your life, to run away. He always thought Mr. Stark was an awesome parent, the way he was treating Ethan, and him…

“It’s unfair,” you ranted. “God, if you only knew how pathetic I feel whenever he tells me off. I’m always annoying to him - not just to him, to the whole team, I’m always wrong in everything I do and it’s honestly tiring? What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

You went on rambling while Peter tried to comfort and deny every negative thing that came out of your mouth. He didn’t believe any of it, but the way everyone’s been treating you. He hated that he didn’t notice sooner. He could’ve defended you.

“I have nothing against you, I really don’t,” you sighed. “But you should be grateful they’re treating you perfectly.” You got up and strode to the opposite direction, mentally cursing because your friends ditched you and you has nowhere to go, phone destroyed and everything.

But you were staying true to your word: you didn’t have any plans to go back to the compound. You were going to figure your life out on your own.

“Y/N, I… I’m not leaving you alone out here!”

You were so fed up of the spider-ling. How good he was, how perfect, how Tony clearly wanted him more than you, how he always wanted to do the right thing, because none of you expected what happened next when he went to grab your shoulder. The action was so sudden that it Peter didn’t have time to avoid it.

Knife, shoulder, really deep.

Maybe it was just how wasted you were, because he knew you would never do anything like that.

“You’re really annoying, Parker,” you muttered, not wasting any more time watching him stumble out of shock and pain, sprinting across the streets.

With his uninjured arm, he shot webs while trying to pull the knife (the blade wasn’t even visible anymore on how deep it was) out of his shoulder. There was a loud bang, and Peter never sprinted so fast in his life, not caring less about the pain and blood, because what mattered most was your safety. When he got there, you were far from safe.

-----

A week went by. And during those seven days Tony was on edge, I mean, how can be calm at a time like that?

Peter managed to show up at the compound the same night, breathless and shaky. His state made everyone worried but he wasted no time telling Tony what happened. He got you to the hospital, making sure you were being sorted out right before leaving to break the news.

Tony didn’t think twice and went to the hospital where you were admitted, not listening to Peter’s apologies and leaving Steve to sort everyone out on what they should do.

They didn’t expect you to show signs of waking up after only a week since the accident got you mangled up, it was mostly a blow to the head and as expected, you slipped into a coma.

Right, what happened: an awful timing really, not sure if Peter’s the one to blame but he accidentally stuck you to the ground with his webs, and it just so happened a car was driving at a fast speed – there you go.

Tony made sure you got the best treatment possible. He even went and asked Strange if he could do all the surgeries needed, but he declined, claiming he couldn’t anymore despite the sympathy he felt inside. Instead he asked the best doctors he knew, but still helped out sometimes in any way he could.

You took a breath, trying to open your eyes but the blinding lights of your room and them almost feeling as if they were glued shut from not being open for so long prevented you. You also tried moving your hands, only to feel a warm one rest on top of it, you finally opened your eyes.

“You’re awake,” Tony mumbled, rubbing a thumb on the back of your palm soothingly. “You’re awake and you’re okay.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, spotting his mentor sitting outside the room where they were doing the final surgery on you. It was his first time visiting, seeing as the knife wound was worse than he thought. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“What happened?” Was the only thing Tony said, not looking up to look at the kid. Peter stood there for a moment but told him everything that happened.

After that and after he made sure you were okay, resting in your room and everything, he let Natasha look after you for the night and headed back to the compound.

The kid would never lie to him but he had to see it all for himself. The Spider-Man suit caught everything through the baby monitor protocol. From when he arrived to the convenient store, when you told him countless of times that you weren’t coming back, and when your drunk self ranted about what you felt.

“What the fuck do I have to do just to feel loved and wanted?”

“He seemed to like both of us equally when we were younger,” you sniffled. “Of course he would, but… my brother just turned out to be special and talented and,” you frowned, “he’s all Tony ever wanted for a kid. Maybe I reminded him of the chick he fucked, I don’t know – must be it, right?”

“Y/N, you’re just as special as-” Peter tried to reason but you threw him a glare. Tony could see the pain and heartbreak in your bloodshot, tired eyes. One that said you didn’t want to hear anything like it anymore. You didn’t want to believe it.

“The thing is, they only want you when you’re gone. Missing. Dead,” you shrugged. “I can take a hint, you know? My only family hates me. My only family doesn’t want me. Now you – all of them – are looking for me… why?” Peter flinched at the loudness of your voice. You truly were broken.

Tony fast forwarded, it didn’t clearly show how you got hit, but he had enough anyway. He wanted to make things right with you. He could only hope that you make pass this, hoping that you’ll let him make it up to you.

“It’s not too late, you know,” Steve said from the entrance to his lab. “Y/N is strong. She’ll make it.”

“Why am I not dead?” You croaked, looking at your father with an anxious expression. You letting out another shaky breath as you struggled to move and look around. “I should be dead. Why am I here-”

“Take it easy-”

“Don’t you understand?” You felt your throat aching, breath quickening. “I don’t want to be here!”

“No, you’re okay. Y/N you’re okay,” Tony tried to calm you down when he saw the lines in your heart monitor go up and down in rapid pace.

“I’m not - no I’m not - not okay,” you struggled to let out. It felt like you were choking on your own breath, getting harder and harder to breathe by the minute, soon tears started to prick your eyes. “I don’t want to be here!”

“Tony, what's going on?” Steve bursted into the room with an alarmed but calm expression.

“Call Strange. Anyone.” He told the captain but his eyes never left you. He rubbed a part of your arm that wasn’t injured soothingly in attempt to calm you down. “Just breathe for me, okay? I’m here and you’re okay.”

Something about the softness and encouraging look in his eyes made you nod eventually and follow his breathing patterns. He held a glass of water for you to drink, holding your struggling hand softly to get it out of the way.

He’s never looked at you like that before.

Most of the time he ignored you, most of the time he looked at you at anger or annoyance when you’ve fucked something up.

“There we go, we okay now?” You looked away and nodded lightly. That was enough for him. Tony wanted to let you know how sorry he was so bad, but thought against it, at least for now. He was scared you might start freaking out again.

Stephen entered the room with the doctor, the other Avengers following closely behind. The amount of people in the room overwhelmed you a bit, but you were strangely calm because of how your father’s acting. Soft and caring, it made you feel safe.

Both doctors concluded that you had some sort of amnesia. In English, your past memories were blotchy, all of them even from your childhood. Again because of the blow to the head it was already expected. But you remembered the recent ones clearly, which was the reason why you avoided looking at Peter and his patched up arm.

Which also meant it was possible you didn’t remember all of the pain you felt concerning your family. It was unfair on your part.

Strange insisted that you stay a few more days, or one more week, just to run tests and make sure you get enough medicine and stuff.

They decided to see how bad your memory loss was.

“I did that to you,” you still refused to look at Peter completely. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Peter gave you a smile.

You moved to the next person. Red hair, seemed to give off a friendly but civil nature. “Natasha? You’re Natasha.”

The Russian merely smiled and crossed her arms.

“Steve,” you stated, moving to the next person. “You always read old books in the kitchen.”

Steve chuckled, nodding to confirm.

“Ethan,” you smiled as you looked at your twin. He gave you a small wave even if he felt as guilty as Tony about everything even if he wasn’t the one to blame.

You stared longer at the next person, almost shoulder length dark brown hair, he’s wearing a jacket to cover his metal arm but you knew it was still there.

“Ducky?”

Peter let out a giggle, so did you brother.

“It’s Bucky, doll,” Bucky smiled, covering his face with his hand to suppress a chuckle as the rest laughed.

“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” you let out a weak giggle yourself.

You meet Tony’s eyes again, the softness still there.

“Dad,” you stated. “You’re my dad. Tony.”

No, you didn’t completely forget how he treated you. You knew he was annoyed with you, which lead you to think that you did something that made him act that way. “Am I bad?”

Tony’s hopeful expression dimmed. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “You’re mad at me, I just… I guess it’s just not clear on why.”

Steve thought it would be best for everyone to head out for a bit so he ushered everyone out of the room except for your brother who took a seat at the corner.

“About that, it’s about time we talked, yeah?” Tony sat on a chair backwards beside your bed. It made you nervous, but you were reassured. “You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

He exhaled, resting an arm on the top rail. “You deserve so much better. I should’ve treated you better,” you opened your mouth to ask but he continued. “Look, I haven’t been fair with you and it’s a problem. You’re smart, talented and beautiful. I figured you needed to hear it more often because it’s true. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I really am.”

Your bottom lip involuntarily trembled. “You – you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

You sighed, a genuine smile plastered on your face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass-“

“You never were,” Tony shook his head. “You always did your best and I really should have acknowledged it more. Give me a second chance?”

“Of course.”

Tony smiled, getting up and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Everything in life was so much better after all that. Tony treated you and Ethan equally, same goes for Peter. The other Avengers were nicer, not the kind of nice that was almost fake, but it was genuine. All of them were. And you were thankful.

----

TAGLIST: @contanto-que-voce-me-queira @angeldreineedshelp @legendarymcnuggies @zoeyserpentluck @vienmiaprendere @alainabooks143 @hessogxlden

DID ANYONE MISS ME? BC I MISSED THIS PLACE

I highly doubt anyone’s still waiting for this, it was an unplanned hiatus I’M SO SORRY but I decided to post anyway :))

also I hope this wasn’t underwhelming, that’s one of the reasons why I was hesitant to do this but I hope its good heh (I’ve included the parts from my first post as well, just so it feels like a full fic)

WAIT I ALSO HIT 300 FOLLOWERS? INSANE. THANK YOU. I MEAN IT.

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poptod · 3 years

Text

Will You? (Rami Malek x Reader)

Description: Meeting Rami in the back alley behind an awards show.

Notes: ugh ive been having writers block for the first time in like two years so ive only been writing short stuff. i have a couple fics backpiled for various rami characters so thats coming up! gender neutral as usual WC: 1.5k

Ugh.

How quickly it all became too much. You wondered, clutching your aching head, why you even came here; large parties were never your scene, public events even less so. A world-wide broadcasted movie awards event was nothing near anything you'd done before. Earlier in the day, as you were dressing and readying yourself for the evening, you stared into the mirror and wondered then, as well, what you were doing.

Maybe––probably––it had to do with the fact that one of your favorite actors' presence was assured, and you rarely ever visited New York, making this the first time you'd been in the right place at the right time to have the opportunity to do this. You steeled yourself then and you steeled yourself now, digging into your clutch bag to pull out a carton of cigarettes.

You fumbled with the cigarette as you reached back in, searching for your lighter. A frustrated grumble grew in your mouth and came out as a curse. With a harsh sigh you yanked your hand out, throwing it up into the air, and sitting with a thud on a wooden box laying by the side of a large trash bin. You rubbed your face harshly, attempting to wipe away the irritation. To no avail––you had no lighter, and your nerves were itching, teeming with aggravation that crawled like bugs beneath your skin. You needed this and the world didn't like you.

The door you'd left the building from opened once more, swinging shut with a loud clanking sound that seemed to echo in the vacant alleyway. Drops of water fell into the puddles at your feet, still present from the earlier rain, and now filled with bits of trash. The very same water almost splashed onto you as a car passed by, its' wheels revving and spinning away through a massive puddle. It must've been midnight, but assholes were still awake as well, and the city lights showed no sign of stopping.

This was why you only visited New York City.

"Here," someone with a deep, rough voice spoke, and you looked up to find a vein-filled hand balancing a blue lighter between the second and third fingers.

There weren't any active lights in the alleyway, but the puddles reflected the street lights that stood a few meters away. That was enough to recognize him when you glanced to his face.

Rami fucking Malek.

He turned almost the second you looked up at him, meaning he didn't catch the sudden, stumbling recognition that flooded your expression. Thankfully, you had the time to calm yourself before he sat down across from you on a dirty (and probably wet) stool.

"Thank you," you said, lighting your cigarette and breathing in the sweet smoke before you said anything else. "You're a lifesaver."

"No, I just have a smoking problem," he said.

You both laughed, softly, and looked away.

You took another drag.

"You're Rami Malek, aren't you?" You said through the smoke that escaped you. It was rough on your throat, but you didn't especially care anymore. Somehow, you remembered a flask of water––just not the lighter.

"Yeah," he said with another soft, bashful, chuckle.

"I like your work. Or, your style," you mumbled as you tapped the ashy end away. He might've been a star of your dreams, and mere images of him might've taken your breath away, but you would treat him like a regular person. "It's.. unique, but familiar."

"Thank you," he said, nodding, a charming grin on his face. "May I ask your name?"

"(Y/N)." You shifted in your seat as you looked down. An ounce of humor came to you once you said, "you won't recognize the name."

"No, but I'm happy to recognize it in the future," he said, tilting his head in your direction.

You broke out in a laugh and a wide, blushing grin, shaking your head. God, he looked good in a suit––all black. Silver in his lapel. His neck revealed colored veins that led up to a jawline that would surely cut you. Why was he talking to you? Why was he being nice?

"You're a charmer," you finally said through your giggling, continuing with, "do you want some?" before he could say anything.

You handed the cigarette to him and he took it, pursing his lips and letting go with a puff of smoke. Even in the hot, humid air, those clouds coalesced and drifted away just as usual.

"You're not an actor," he stated, his eyes fixed on the cigarette as he tapped the ashes away. "Not here for that, so why are you here? Just out of curiosity."

"That's... a very good question," you said with an exasperated laugh. "I'm a teacher, I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Teacher?" He repeated. "My brother's one of those. What d'you teach?"

He handed the cigarette back to you.

"Third graders," you grumbled. He sucked in a sharp breath in a wince. "I usually do first graders, but not this year."

"That's rough, I've heard those are demonic years," he said, earning a laugh from you.

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it," you said as you doted on the cigarette. "I guess this is just the first time I've visited New York when an awards show is happening."

"How do you like the big screen life so far?"

"Not very much, but I never thought I would," you said quietly, but he still chuckled. "I... I did think about being an actor, when I was a kid. I think a lot of kids do these days, though. Actors are.. like the new Gods. You know, in ancient times people would worship idols, and that's what people call you now..." you met his gaze and couldn't tear yourself from it, "... idols. Images of something to strive for."

He nodded, his brow creased in deep thought.

"After a while the world shows you what celebrity life is really like, and you read all sorts of things, see how people change... eventually you don't really want it anymore," you said, shrugging. "Or you decide you want it, or want part of it despite the other stuff."

He nodded again but had little to say despite being a celebrity himself.

"Which was it for you?"

"Hm?"

A spell broke over his eyes and he appeared to return to normal, having not heard or comprehended your words.

"Did you become an actor because you wanted all of it, with the bad parts, or you wanted a specific part and still became an actor despite all the other things?"

"... complex question," he said after a moment, rocking his balance back and forth awkwardly as you laughed. "I wanted to become other people, transform myself into characters. I was attracted to the job. Not the other things attached to it."

"Well I'm glad you became an actor anyway," you said, relighting the cigarette with a quick drag. "That way I could meet you."

"And I could meet you, as well," he said in that same, deep voice he used when he first spoke to you.

You could do nothing but chuckle and cast your eyes down, shaking your head.

"Yeah, I guess you could," you mumbled.

He reached forward, snagging the cigarette from between your fingers. That made you look up, drawing your attention back to the subtle lines marking his face, and the glow of fire that revealed cool, green eyes behind thick lashes.

A loud wave of cheering came from inside the building, and the both of you looked back at the steel door. Still unopened.

"I should probably get inside, the cameras might notice my seat's empty," he said in a similar mumble.

The cigarette, now nothing more than a filter, dropped from his lips and fell to the ground, squashed beneath his shiny, black shoe.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Have to be," you said as you stood. "Not wasting a fifty dollar ticket on my damn social anxiety."

He chuckled and said, "I'd invite you to sit with me, but there aren't any free spots. How about..." He'd been opening the door, but he paused, causing you to misstep and halt yourself only when your chest was an inch from his. Your eyes darted up to his. "Come see me after the show. I have a '97 bottle of Montalcino at home that I think you'd enjoy."

You nearly choked on your own spit, but fortunately for you, it only came out as a cough and a clearing of the throat. 'What', almost escaped your mouth in the most astounded tone before you bit it back.

Was he propositioning you? Was this a friendly invitation? Why was, again, Rami fucking Malek asking to spend anymore time with you than he had to?

You realized a silence had spanned between you when his eyes flickered down to your lips, at which point shock fully brought you back into your body.

"Will you?" He asked hopefully.

"Yeah," you murmured. "I'd like that."

#rami malek x reader #rami malek

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tom-holland-parker · 3 years

Text

Lets get Married

Summary: On a class trip to Vegas, Peter is determined to make this trip a memorable one, even if it means doing something crazy.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word count: 2911

Masterlist

Note: If you’ve never heard Lets get married by bleachers you are missing out.

Taking a bunch of 17/18 year olds to vegas probably wasn't the best idea. Between Flash's constant suggestions on going to a strip club and being stuck on a crowded bus in 90 degree weather, it was already turning out to be terrible.

"Well someone doesn't look too happy" Peter joked as you rested your head on his shoulder. You could feel a headache forming in your head and the heat was only making things worse. "If Flash doesn't stop talking I'm going to stab him" you groaned trying to block out his loud voice.

Peter chuckled, giving you a kiss on your forehead, "sorry to burst your bubble but it's my job as Spiderman to make sure you don't do that"

You rolled your eyes, "but it's your job as Peter AKA my boyfriend to let me get away with it"

"You do realize you're joking about murder" Mj interrupt as she poked her head above her seat in front of you. "I know you're thinking the same thing Mj". She shrugged before returning to the book.

"I’m very glad we finally got a peaceful field trip I don’t think I can handle another Europe or Washington" You joked looking up at Peter. He chuckled, “Don’t jinx it. I don’t want any sort of trouble to happen”

"Well we could always cause some trouble" you smirked, "I've been researching some casinos"

"Since when do you know how to gamble" He laughed. "I'm Tony Stark's daughter doing risky stuff is in my blood. Plus my dad left me with his credit card" you opened your wallet showing Peter the shiny black amex that was tucked in the pocket.

“I don’t know about this,” He said nervously. You scoffed, “You’re telling me that I made all of us get fake IDs and you’re not even going to let me gamble”

Peter rolled his eyes, remembering the exact day you were talking about. It was almost a month ago when you tricked him and your friends into taking photos that they thought were for the yearbook but turned out to be fake IDs that you needed to get into a party. “I never wanted that fake ID”

“Yeah but you’re beautiful girlfriend got you one anyway” You leaned over placing a soft kiss on his neck, “Please baby let have some fun. You know what they say What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”

"If you guys are planning on sneaking out, count me in" Mj interrupted, not bothering to wait for a reply before ducking her head back over the seat.

Peter sighed as he shook his head, "Fine but only because Ned has been studying the art of poker for weeks". He pointed to the row next to you where Ned sat reading The Poker Players Bible

“He’s learning poker from a book?” You shook your head in amusement, “He’s gonna lose”

Peter chuckled, “Have some faith in him. I think he’d make an excellent poker player”. You rolled your eyes, glancing at Ned again before looking back at Peter.

"Wanna make a bet?" You smirked sitting up from your slouched position. Peter smiled and nodded. "We'll let Ned play three games of poker. If he wins at least twice I'll do whatever you want but is he loses twice then you have to do whatever I want"

He hesitated trying to figure out whether or not you were joking. He rolled his eyes when he realized you were serious, "deal". He shook your hand, "I need to talk to Ned''. You rolled your eyes and put on your headphones as Peter got up and walked to the row besides you.

You didn't notice but Peter had been nervous ever since the plane had landed in Vegas. He knew you'd always wanted to come here and he wanted to make your first trip here a memorable one. "Hey Ned" he whispered, glancing towards you to make sure you weren't paying attention, "I need your help"

"I thought you said you wouldn't have to do Spiderman things on this trip" he replied in a worried tone.

Peter shook his head, "no it's not that" he reassured, "Y/N and Mj are going to come with us tonight to the Casino, but I've made a bet with Y/N and I need you to win two of three poker games tonight"

Ned smiled, "don't worry I've got this I spent the whole plane ride playing in small online competitions and I've won a few games so I'm pretty much a pro"

"great" Peter chuckled nervously, "I'm just nervous. I still don't know what I'm going to do to make this trip memorable for her" he glanced at you watching as you stared out the window.

"Why don't you just cross out number 4 on her bucket list" Ned said as he looked at his book again.

"What are you talking about?" Peter questioned. Ned sighed putting down his book again, "do you remember last summer when we all hung out at her place and she stole a bottle of her dads tequila and she started talking about her bucket list"

Peter nodded waiting for Ned to explain, "well number 4 was get married in Vegas even if it's just a joke"

A burst of laughter exploded from Peter, "are you insane? I can't do that. Her father will kill me" he whispered trying to avoid the strange looks he was getting from his sudden outburst.

"Oh come on I'm sure he'll find it funny" Ned smiled.

Peter nodded, “Ok yeah I’m gonna do it. I'm gonna marry her”. Ned chuckled, "Great. Now I need to study or else you’re going to lose this bet” He returned back to his book as Peter, who was now lost in his thoughts returned back to his seat, letting you rest your head on his shoulder for the rest of the bus ride.

///

“Ned if you don’t quiet down we’re going to get caught” You whispered as you and your friend piled out the hotel room. It was nearing 11 and all the teachers had forced the students to stay in the rooms for the rest of the night. “Your heels are making more noise than me” Ned joked as you all entered the elevator.

You rolled your eyes grabbing Peter wrist to look at the time on his watch, “Alright we all need to be back by 4:30”

To your surprise the casino wasn’t crowded, then again who is going to a casino on a Monday night. “Ok babe, me and Mj are gonna play craps. I'll leave Ned to practice before you lose this bet” You kissed his cheek before grabbing Mj’s hand and guiding her to the dice table.

“Don’t you think your father is going to question why there are charges to a Vegas casino on his credit card?” Mj asked as you took money out of the ATM. You shrugged, “That’s a problem for another day”. She chuckled as you moved to the table and placed your bets on the game. The dealer handed you your chips as well as the dice signaling to you that the game had started.

It was only an hour later when Peter met up with you and Mj. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you placed your betting chips in their spots, “Are you winning?” He whispered as you grabbed the dice from the table.

“I’ve done pretty good so far. I need a 7” You shook the dice in your hand before turning to him, “Kiss for good luck?”

He chuckled and gave you a quick kiss, watching as you threw the dice. He could sense your nervousness as the dice moved down the table hitting the wall before landing on the lucky number 7.

Everyone at the table shouted cheerfully, happy that they had won the round. You gather your chips from the dealer, “Alright Jerry it's been nice playing with you I hope to do it again sometime” you waved goodbye as you all walked to the poker table where Ned sat waiting for the group to join him before he started another game.

“Alright Ned three games I betting on two loses but Peter thinks differently” You teased as he rolled his eyes, “Prove me right”

If you were being honest you didn’t exactly know what was going on. You’d seen you father and the other avengers play poker before but they never let you in on the game so you hardly knew anything about it, but so far you could tell that you were losing the bet.

Ned was in the middle of the second game and according to Mj, who didn’t have a biased opinion on this bet, things were looking good for Peter. Ned had won the first game and it looked like he was going to win this one. You sighed in annoyance, hating that you had to admit you were wrong.

Peter smiled, wrapping his arms around you, “Don’t worry babe I think you’ll actually like that i have planned”. You rolled your eyes watching as Ned cheered clearly happy that he won the game. You sighed, “Ok what do you want”

“Give me 3 minutes. Stay here” He smiled, grabbing Mj’s arm, leaving you alone at the table with Ned.

“Ned what does he have planned?” You smirked hoping to wean out whatever Peter was going to do. He shook his head, “Y/N I love you but Peter’s my best friend and I can’t just give away the surprise” You rolled your eyes, turning around at watch as Peter talked to Mj.

“Please Mj” Peter begged, “I want to make this trip memorable and i'm only asking you because her father doesn’t know”

“You’re insane” her eyes widened at the thought of you and Peter getting married this young, “You guys are 18 do you seriously think getting married is the best idea”

“It’s been on her bucket list for years” He pointed out trying to justify his plans. “Please Mj if not for me then do it for the happiness of your best friend”

She took a deep breath, “Fine I will walk Y/N down the aisle”. Peter smiled pulling Mj into a tight hug. “You’re the best”

///

“Guys I don’t appreciate surprises” You joked as Ned guided you through the crowded sidewalk. “Don’t worry we’re almost there” He reassured you. You sighed and kept walking as all your friends laughed.

You came to a sudden stop as Peter grabbed your hand, “Ok Ned you can uncover her eyes” he chuckled. Ned took his hands off your eyes stepping back as you looked around in confusion. Peter was on one knee with a nervous smile plastered on his face. “Y/N I love you”

“Peter what are you doing?” You looked up noticing the small chapel you all stood in front of, “Please don’t tell me-”

“I love you and I know this is on your bucket list so” he kissed you hand, “Will you marry me?”

You stood silent for a moment, shock taking over your body, “Peter-” His face dropping, thinking maybe this was completely ridiculous. You smiled through as sigh, “Yes I will marry you”

He stood up quickly, pulling you into a hug. “Alright well we better hurry because it’s already 3 and we need to be back at the hotel soon”

You nodded your head as everyone walked into the small chapel, “Hi I made an appointment online” Peter said nervously as you walked to the front desk hand in hand, Mj and Ned trailing close behind you.

“Peter?” The short lady said. He nodded, grabbing his ID and handing it to her. You did the same as she typed the information in the computer. “Ok boys you can go through there and stand at the altar, girls you can come with me”

She smiled guiding you and Mj into a separate room, “Ok so we have different dress and veil options for you to pick from but you don’t seem like an extremely flashy girl so I'm going to suggest the little white dress option”

She handed you a hanger that held a body con white dress with glitter details, it actually looked like something you had in your closet at home. You nodded your head moving to the dressing room to put in on. You locked the door behind you taking this time as a moment for you to take everything in. You were about to get married. Even if it was just a joke it was still a crazy thing to do. You weren’t nervous that you’d regret it, you loved Peter with all your heart, but you were nervous about everyone else's reactions. I can do this, You whispered to yourself putting the dress on before walking out the small room.

“Alright here goes nothing” You smiled nervously and you grabbed Mj’s arm. The song over the speaker began to play as you slowly walked down the aisle. Peter turned to look at you, shocked at how good you looked in all white, a color you rarely ever wore.

"Wow" he muttered as you stood in front of him, handing your bouquet of fake flowers to Mj as she stood behind you. "You look amazing" You smiled grabbing his hand.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Peter Benjamin Parker and Y/N Y/M/N Stark, in marriage. In the years they have been together, their love and understanding of each other has grown and matured, and now they have decided to live their lives together as husband and wife" the short lady read from the thin book in her hands. "Do you Peter Parker, take Y/N Stark to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

Peter smiled, looking you in the eyes, "I do"

"Do you Y/N Stark take Peter Parker to be you lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part"

You nodded your head enthusiastically, "I do"

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife you may now kiss the bride" the room filled the applause as you pulled Peter into a quick passionate kiss. Only pulling apart when you realized your empty fingers, "wait we don't have rings"

"Oh i got that covered" Ned said cheerfully as he pulled out two contained of rings, the ones you usually get from the quarter machines, "they were the only ones I could find on short notice"

"they're perfect Ned", you chuckled, pulling out the pink and purple rings, "Dibs on pink"

Peter rolled his eyes forcing the small ring onto his finger, "I don't think I'll ever be able to take this off" he joked

"That's the point of a wedding ring" you grabbed his hand, "you can't get rid of me that easily"

"Alright time for pictures and then certificate" the short lady appeared with a Polaroid Camera snapping pictures of you and Peter.

"Are you happy?" You looked up and smiled. "I'm married to my favorite girl in the whole world. Why wouldn't I be happy?" Peter smirked before giving you a quick kiss.

Time flew by so fast. After the certificate was signed, a bottle of champagne was popped leading you to get extremely tipsy. By the time you all got back to the hotel it was already 5. Peter carried you up the stair bridal style watching as you moved sleepily in his arms.

"What the hell" Flash said loudly startling everyone. You all turned around watching as Flash stood in the hallway in his bathrobe surrounded by two girls who definitely weren't students. "Go to bed Flash" you mumbled, cuddling further into Peter's arms.

"You guys snuck out?" He said in a shocked voice, "Oh I can't wait until you guys to get caught"

Mj chuckled opening the door to the hotel room you shared with her, "Flash do those girls know that you're 16" she lied. The girls gasped quickly walking away from the angered boy. He took a deep breath before stomping back into his room. "Gosh I hate that dude" Ned said as you all walked into the hotel room.

Peter placed you in bed, taking off your shoes before tucking you in, "I'll see you tomorrow morning Mrs. Parker"

You smile tiredly, "I love you Mr. Parker"

///

"Well well well if it isn't the newly weds" Your father said angrily as you walked through the elevator doors. You kept your composure not wanting to give you and peter away

"What are you talking about?" You said through a smile

"Don't act dumb" you father said as he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, "I'm the one who gave Peter the emergency credit card I can see everything he buys"

Your eyes widened, Peter took a deep breath, "Mr. Stark-"

"Im gonna give you ten seconds to run" Your father said as he threw down the paper.

"I'll talk to you later babe" Peter quickly kissed your cheek before rushing out the room. You father quickly trailing behind

808 notes · View notes

supercasey · 3 years

Note

Wait, Paul's trans? Never picked that up, I need to do another rewatch

In my opinion, he is! The most common/obvious evidence I've seen for the "Paul is Care" theory is the following (and at this point, I consider it damn near canon):

1. Early on in the it's confirmed that Paul and Care have the exact same birthday, plus they apparently look very similar (both pieces of information are given to us by Paul himself).

2. In one of the episodes (can't remember off the top of my head which it is) Paul does something that prompts the game to show him a series of text blocks that reenact a conversation he had with his mother and aunt during his last birthday; in this conversation, Care acts as him, complete with talking in yellow text.

3. When in the schoolhouse, Paul is continually dragged to the girl poster, which will eventually force him into the counseling session in one of the later episodes. Before this, he continually tries to avoid this area, and can be heard audibly button mashing in frustration when he's dragged back to the poster each time. The song playing is also called "Girl World".

4. Care's color in the series is Yellow, while Paul's color is Red; when Paul arrives to Care's birthday party, he is given a yellow balloon and continually referred to as Care.

5. In the counselor scene, Paul reenacts one of Care's therapy sessions post-rescue. During this scene, the counselor says that they called for Care many times, but that she didn't come right away, prompting him to ask if they used the name wrong. In response, "Care" tells the counselor that her name is Paul.

6. At the very end of the story, Paul "rebirths" Care into a red and yellow striped egg, further signifying their connection.

7. One of the most common themes in Petscop (to me and a lot of other people) is the idea that trauma can completely and utterly change someone, to the point that they are not the same person they were before undergoing said trauma (for example, Care is referred to as "Care A" before she was kidnapped by Marvin, becoming "Care B" when subjected to his abuse, and eventually "Care NLM" (Nobody Loves Me) after she escaped, the game treating them all as different pets/people) and it wouldn't be a huge leap in logic to believe that after everything he went through, Care transitioned and became Paul.

With most of my evidence out of the way, I'll admit that I've seen some people argue that the "Paul is Care" theory is problematic because it might imply that Care's family forced her to transition in order to hide her from Marvin better, but I personally believe that Care made the decision to transition on her own, and even if she hadn't been abused, she still would've transitioned later on in life.

At the end of the day, this is only a theory, but it's a theory I hold near and dear to my heart, and am happy to see popularized in the community. If you think Paul isn't Care/trans, that's fine, but I'm gonna keep seeing him as such, especially now that the series is over (I think it is at least; you can never be a 100% sure with these sorts of things).

#supercasey askies #petscop #petscop theory #paul petscop #care petscop #anonymous

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enamoured-x · 3 years

Text

Sweet Release | Part 2

Angel Reyes x Reader

Summary: Things don’t go as planned when you attend Ez’s party.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Angst

Word count: 4.8k

Excerpt: “Your salvation and your destruction kneeled before you, ready to prove to you how deadly the mix of the two was. Your angel on his knees ready to sin.”

*gif is mine!

a/n: thank you for all the love on this mini series! With that being said there will be a part 3 and it will be the final part! Enjoy! (part 1 can be found here)

Part 2

One long fucking month. Since the day you left Angel at the clubhouse with his come leaking out of you, you had been a wreck. Honestly, you were proud of yourself for holding it together so well when you broke the news to him. Maybe because you knew eventually you’d break. You were a mess. Hating Angel for what he put you through, hating that he led you to walk out on him in the first place. He tried calling every day for the first two weeks and then it simmered down to a call every few days. None of which you answered. For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to block his number just yet. You still cared for him, still wanted to be able for him to reach out if something was wrong as long as it didn’t pertain to your failed relationship. You didn’t want to talk about how stupid that logic was because you knew keeping his number was because a part of you still wanted it to work.

You played with the idea of maybe. But you couldn’t tell him that because you weren’t sure. You put yourself through all of his shit already and if he was going to do it all over again if you gave him a second chance you’d kill him. It would kill you. With that being said, you were going to let this play out. You knew you were supposed to get over him, knew you made a choice that day to end it with him. But a girl could dream that he’d make some grand gesture to win you back like in the movies, but this wasn’t a movie and Angel definitely wasn’t the romantic male protagonist.

“Angel’s a mess.” You glared at Ez for bringing him up. You ignored his comment and sipped your coffee. You and Ez still kept in close contact over the month, sharing funny videos and checking in, just the usual stuff. Today he invited you to hang out and catch up since you hadn’t seen him since that day and you had agreed, happy to go somewhere that wasn’t work or your home. Happy to see your friend again.

“How’s pops?” You asked, trying to get the topic off Angel. You weren’t here to talk about Angel, he made his bed and now he could lay in it. If you were open to the idea of giving him a second chance, and that was a big if, he would need to do a lot more than having Ez tell you how miserable he’s been. You had been a wreck long before you broke up with him, he deserved to know what it felt like.

Ez sighed and didn’t bring up Angel again, “he’s fine, he sends his best.” You nodded, making it a point to stop by soon and say hi, just because you and Angel broke up didn’t mean you couldn’t be friendly with his family still. They were practically your family.

Ez twiddled with his coffee cup and you sighed.

“Go ahead.” You told him, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. The outside seating offered you a breath of fresh air you desperately needed when talking about the one and only Angel Reyes.

He stopped his movements and looked up at you, “what?”

“You obviously either have an opinion on the breakup or you told Angel you were meeting me and he asked you to tell me something for him. Hell, maybe you only asked to hangout with me to deliver a message. Whatever it is, spill it, Reyes.” You knew Ez enough to know when something was on his mind or when he was holding back. This was one of those times. You weren’t exactly mad at him for it but after your grief died out, you were just confused about Angel. You knew you made the right choice at the time but it didn’t mean you still didn’t miss him. It didn’t mean you were over him.

Ez held his hands up, “I swear I just wanted to see you. No secret motive. If Angel wants to work things out with you, he can do it himself, I'm not his messenger.” You sighed. You knew he was telling the truth.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” He was still holding back. He may not be there for some ulterior motive but there was something.

“You know I’m getting patched in…” He trailed off and you nodded your head. You were excited for him when he told you the news a few weeks ago. Ez had put all his time and effort in the club and he was finally going to become an official member. He deserved it.

“The club is throwing me a party.” He stated and you shook your head.

“No.” He scoffed at your answer and sat up.

“Come on, you have to come. You don’t have to talk to Angel, just stay with me the whole time.” He begged. You groaned at the idea.

“Ez, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the best idea.” Showing up to the clubhouse just a month after you broke up with Angel and fucked him in the middle of it was probably not the greatest idea.

“Please. You’re my only friend outside of the club, I want you there.” Ez’s brown eyes pleaded with you. You were his only friend and as that friend you owed it to him to show your support, even if it meant having to see your ex again.

You bit your lip and Ez smiled, knowing he had you.

“Fine, but I’ll be glued to your side the whole time you’ll regret asking me to come.” You pointed at him and he laughed.

“This should be fun.”

You should’ve taken that as a warning.

You hated the fact that you were putting effort into what you were wearing to the party. Trying on basically all the clothes in your closet. You figured if you were going to see Angel you had better make it good. Eventually you settled on a simple red summer dress, flowy enough to be innocent but short enough to showcase your legs. You opted for some white sneakers with it, deciding that you were definitely not going to dress up to this thing, Angel or no Angel. Either way, this night wasn’t about him or you, it was Ez’s night and you were going to be there to support him.

Your nerves got the best of you when you pulled into the packed scrapyard, Chucky directed you where to park and you took a deep breath before stepping out. The party was already in full swing, people scattered outside and around the fire, already drinking and having a good time.

“Hey, you made it.” Ez said as he walked up to you as you made your way toward the clubhouse. You had yet to spot Angel and you were thankful for it.

“I told you I would come.” You pulled him into a hug and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and then led you inside.

“Thought you might back out last minute.” He shrugged. You were about to say something when you saw him. The man who had taken up space in your mind this past month. The man you left after reaching one last high with him. He was laughing at something Coco said, his smile not reaching his eyes. You could tell that what Ez told you had been true, that he was miserable. He looked good, just not all there. Both men were standing against the wall, what stirred jealousy in you was one of the club hang arounds to his left touching his arm. You swallowed hard, you forgot that before you and Angel got together, he was a hot commodity amongst Vicky’s girls. Now that he was off the market, you were sure the women were jumping at the chance to share his bed, they probably already had. Lead filled your stomach once again.

You were about to turn to Ez to take the beer bottle from him when Angel finally looked over and stopped in his tracks. Gone was the smile and in its place was shock. You stared back at him, into those dark brown eyes you loved so much. Seeing him stung more than you cared to admit but you held strong.

“You good?” Ez’s words snapped you out of your trance and you turned to him, finally taking the bottle from his hands.

“You didn’t tell him I was coming?” You asked him as he led you over to take a seat at the bar. He looked guilty.

“If I had he probably would’ve been by the gates waiting for you. Figured this was better.” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hermosa, haven’t seen you in a while.” You turned around to face Bishop. A genuine smile lit up your face and you got up to hug him. He graciously accepted, giving you a tight squeeze before letting you go. Bishop was always so kind to you, always so supportive of yours and Angel’s relationship.

“Hey, Bish. How are you?”

“I’m doing good. How are you? Which Reyes brother are you really here for?” He teased you and Ez chuckled. Obviously the club knew about yours and Angel’s split but he still welcomed you with open arms despite it. You were thankful for it.

“Very funny, but I’m here for Ez.” He laughed and placed a kiss on your temple before excusing himself.

“Is he still looking over here?” You asked Ez, bringing the bottle up to your lips and taking a sip of the cold liquid. You welcomed the alcohol as it sat in your stomach.

“Yup and Vicky’s girl does not seem too happy about that.” You felt a sliver of satisfaction run through you. But Angel wasn’t yours, you made that clear. So you had absolutely no right to be jealous, you had no claim over him anymore. At least not in that way but with the way you felt his eyes on your body, you knew you still had some sort of pull over him. He had that same pull over you but tonight was not the night for that.

“Let’s get you drunk, Eziekiel. You deserve it.” You changed the subject. You weren’t going to sit here and talk about Angel who was a few feet from you during Ez’s party. No, you were going to celebrate the man of the hour. Your friend, arguably your best friend. Also arguably your only friend.

“Sounds good to me.”

Ez was a bit tipsy but not nowhere near drunk after many rounds of beers and a few shots. You on the other hand kept it to three beers and then opted for some water, not really one to drink all that much. That didn’t mean that you weren’t having fun though. Coco had eventually came over to talk to you during the night and you were glad none of the men held any animosity towards you. It felt nice to see them again and you could honestly say you were glad you came.

“Six o’clock, mamas.” Coco said and nodded behind you, you were turning around completely ready to see Angel. You were surprised he hadn’t tried to get your attention sooner seeing as how he still tried to contact you weekly. But it wasn’t Angel. The man who now stood in front of you was a stranger, albeit a very handsome stranger who was part of another charter by the patch on his vest. He was tall enough to tower over you, his dark eyes pulling you in. He ran his hand through his raven black hair and smiled at you, even with his facial hair you could still see prominent dimples.

“Hello, sweetheart. I’m Jay. And you are?” He stuck his tattooed hand out for you to take and you took it into your own. Jay was a tall glass of water, honestly a wet dream. Just not yours. But he could be. At least for tonight. A rebound wasn’t a terrible idea but you guessed there had to have been some rule about finding a rebound at the party of your ex boyfriend's brother’s party while he stood just a few feet away. You still introduced yourself nonetheless. You were a bit too distracted to notice Coco and Ez had left you to your own devices.

“So, what brings you to this party?”

“I’m a friend of Ez’s.” You told him. You swore you could still feel Angel’s eyes burning through you, you had felt it since you locked eyes with him. Whether he was giving you your space or he really didn’t want anything to do with you tonight, you didn’t know. But judging by the same girl who was still trying to get his attention, you figured he wanted nothing to do with you tonight if it meant him getting laid.

“Hmm,” he looked you up and down and you shifted under his gaze. You were kidding yourself if you actually thought you’d go through with a rebound. Especially with a Mayan. And you were kidding yourself if you thought a rebound was going to help. As if it was going to magically make your feelings for Angel disappear. As if sleeping with a stranger was going to give you that release you needed again, no, only Angel could do that. You hated it.

“So, this party is dying down, I was thinking maybe you wanna get out of here?” That was extremely forward, all he knew about you was your name. But who were you kidding, guys like him didn’t care, hell, you’d be lucky if he even remembered your name. You were just about to turn him down when he trailed his hand up your thigh skimming just under your dress. Your eyes widened at the gesture and you shoved him off you and backed up.

“Woah, what the fuck.” You hissed quietly, not wanting to make a scene. He laughed.

“Oh, come on. You're not here for Ez, you’re here to get laid.” What the fuck. You were about to tell him off before a hand wrapped around your waist and a warm body pulled you into his side. You didn’t even have to look to know who it was but you looked up anyways. Angel. Your damn angel.

“You touching my girl, homie?” He asked him, ice in his tone. You were surprised the guy wasn’t on the floor already, Angel’s girlfriend or not, he didn’t like people touching you if you weren’t willing. Maybe he knew punching a guys lights out right now was no way to win you back and it was definitely not needed at Ez’s patched-in party.

“Nah, man. Sorry, I didn’t know she was yours.” You scoffed.

“I’m not anyones.” You weren’t going to cause a scene but you hated men like this, men who thought women were just objects. You felt bad for the girl he would somehow convince to go home with him.

“Get fucking lost or we’re gonna have a problem.” Angel told him, fingers tightening on your waist. Your skin ignited at his touch, at him being so close, at his cologne infiltrating your senses once again. It all felt like home. You hated it. The guy held his hands up as he walked away mumbling curses under his breath. Before you could say anything to Angel, he was whispering in your ear.

“We need to talk. Now.” He didn’t give you room to argue as he led you down the hall and into his dorm room, closing the door. You didn’t like this. You didn’t trust yourself to be alone in a room with Angel right now. Give it another month or two then maybe, but right now? When your breakup was still a month fresh? No. It was dangerous. Angel turned to face you and you crossed your arms looking anywhere but at him, not wanting to look into his eyes. Not wanting to lose yourself in him.

“What do you want to talk about?” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“Us. You coming here dressed like that.” He motioned to your dress.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Angel. What’s done is done.” You explained, biting your lip. Seeing him one foot away, eyes locked on you, it was a bit too much. One month was not nearly long enough to get over Angel Reyes. Hell, you didn’t think any amount of time would be sufficient. He was a damn drug, one you couldn’t stay off of.

“So you came here to torture me? Rub it in my face? I fucking miss you and you come to my clubhouse and act like everything’s cool? Act like I didn’t mean shit to you?” He was angry, that was easy to see. But you could tell his tone carried a deep hurt, one he was desperately trying to contain. Your heart ached. You wanted him to hurt, at first. But now seeing him, seeing the desperation and anguish in his eyes? This wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t like hurting the people you loved, even if they hurt you.

“Angel, that wasn’t my intention. Ez asked me to come and I wanted to support him. I’m not trying to hurt you.” You explained, stepping closer to him. That was also dangerous, you should be on the other side of the room, not a few inches away from him.

“Too fucking late.” He ran his ring cladded fingers through his hair.

“What do you want me to say, Angel? You hurt me, you didn’t make time for me. Our relationship was over long before that day.” It was the truth. You subconsciously knew your relationship was over with Angel before you had officially broken it off. You were just too scared to admit it to yourself, too desperate to hang onto the hope that he’d actually show up for you. But he never did and you knew it was time.

“I know, I fucked up. I know that. But what you did that day… that was cold.” You chewed on your bottom lip. Part of you did feel bad for giving him a false sense of hope that day, using him for your release and then dropping him. But you needed to end the relationship on a high note, end it with a sweet goodbye and not a bitter storm of curses, in the end it was all just bittersweet.

“I just… I needed you, Angel. I had missed you so much and I needed something…” You couldn’t find your words but you knew he knew what you meant, even if that day hurt like a bitch for him. He stepped forward, making a move to grab your arm but you backed up and shook your head.

“Mami, please…” He begged, this time you went still as he grabbed your arm with one hand and cupped your cheek with the other. Your body buzzed to life at his touch, like Angel flipped a switch and you were back on again, like you were just being dragged through life this past month on auto pilot, like he had finally given you the reins back to your body.

“Angel…” You were weak, your wavering voice gave you away. He leaned forward, his lips grazing yours slightly, his warm breath mingling with your own. You felt giddy as he surrounded you, as he invaded everything you were once again. And when he pressed his lips to yours, you melted into it. He licked along your lips and you opened your mouth, tongues sliding against each other. You moaned into it and grabbed onto his vest, trying to steady yourself at this heady feeling he gave you every time his lips were on any part of you. His hand slid to your waist and you had half a mind to snap out of your daze. You pulled away and he craned his neck, trying to chase your lips. You pushed on his chest lightly, wanting him to stop.

“No, Angel, we can’t…” You couldn’t get hurt again. You couldn’t just fall back into him just for him to keep you at home waiting up for him and waiting on his call, and when neither came you’d be right back where you started.

“Querida, I love you… I need you.” He whispered against your cheek. Hearing him say those words only made your heart ache worse and only made you want him more. It was damn confusing. You wanted him but you couldn’t put yourself through that shit again.

You knew what he meant. I need you. He didn’t just need a release, he needed you. Just like that day you broke up with him, you needed him to give you that high but you quite plainly just needed him.

“Fine. Let’s fuck and then go our separate ways.” You said, pulling him in for another kiss, needing the distraction. Not wanting to think about how fucking stupid that offer was, how fucking stupid you were. Sex wasn’t going to do anything but fill your base desire, it wasn’t going to give you back that piece of your heart that was ripped away from you when you left. He didn’t let the kiss go on more than a few seconds, pulling away, confusion and despair written all over his face.

“What?”

“Fuck me, Angel. We need it.” You stated plainly. He shook his head and backed up from you.

“No. I need you.” His words pricked another pain in your heart.

“Then take me.” You offered. You were sure you had lost your damn mind. But you wanted Angel, maybe it wasn’t exactly the way you wanted him but you’d take it.

“Fuck no. That’s not what I want.” You sighed, he wasn’t making this easy. Because it wasn’t what you wanted either. Yeah, you were desperate to feel him inside you again but it’s not truly what you wanted.

“That’s all I can offer.” Your words came out softer than you planned, sadder. He scoffed, running his hand down his face.

“You want a release, mami? I’ll give you one, but you’re not getting my dick. I can’t… I can’t be inside you without wanting to stay there. Can’t give you that if I know you’re just going to leave again.” You weren’t sure what he was offering. But it didn’t matter because he was more upset than he had been just a few moments ago.

“Angel…” You shook your head not knowing what to say. Fuck, if he fucked you right now you wouldn’t want him to go anywhere either. But that wasn’t your reality. The reality was that he fucked up and sex didn’t fix it the first time and it certainly wasn’t going to fix it this time.

“I’ll make you come on my tongue, and then you can walk out that door but you’ll walk out knowing only I can take you to heaven.” You swallowed hard at his words as he crowded your space again. Your breath hitched as he pulled you into his chest, making you look into his eyes.

“I’m not going to stop. Not gonna stop calling, texting, not gonna stop until you give me another chance to prove to you how much I fucking love you. But right now, I’ll give you what you want. Even if it kills me.” And with that he slid to his knees. Your whole world stopped at the confession, at him kneeling before you, ready to worship you in a way only he could. The sight of him on his knees, the rush you felt as he trailed his hands up your bare thighs, it was like no other high you had ever felt. Your salvation and your destruction kneeled before you, ready to prove to you how deadly the mix of the two was. Your angel on his knees ready to sin.

His lips trailed up your thighs and you threw your head back, steadying yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders. His warm breath getting closer to the place you needed him most had your core clenching around nothing, had you squirming, waiting for him.

“Fuck…” You breathed out as he lifted your dress to get his mouth right on the skin above your panties. You bit down hard on your bottom lip as you felt yourself getting wetter at his teasing. His lips skimmed your stomach before he forcefully yanked your panties down, a contrast to his gentle and slow movements. You gasped at the action but before you could react further, he buried his face in your pussy, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder in the process. You yelped at the sudden intensity, at his wet tongue sliding through your folds and flicking against your clit.

“Oh god.” You cried, grabbing onto his hair and grinding yourself into his face. He let you, following your movements, never relenting, never taking his mouth off you. Heaven. He wasn’t wrong, only your angel could take you there.

“Missed your taste. Missed you.” He mumbled against your slick. He said the last part so quietly you almost didn’t hear him, but you did. You heard him and it stung but the pleasure he was also giving you was overpowering your thoughts on his confession.

“Feels so good, Angel.” Your words spurred him on as he trailed his tongue to your hole, fucking you. You whined at the intrusion and rolled your hips and pulled his head in deeper. You were drowning again, or flying, or possibly dying. It felt too good, felt too sweet to be anything but something so fucking dangerous yet so damn exhilarating.

You were so lost in your pleasure you almost didn’t notice the door open, Angel obviously didn’t, head still buried in your pussy. The head that peeked around the door was the same woman who had been trying to fuck Angel all night. Her eyes widened at the sight and you should’ve felt embarrassed, but all you felt was that satisfaction again. Angel was here with you, on his goddamn knees for you. Pleasuring you and wanting nothing in return. At your mercy. Your head clouded with need at the thought, not because he was here with you and not some other woman but because he’d only ever do this for you.

You moaned a little louder and the girl snapped out of her shock and displeasure as she awkwardly closed the door.

Now that she was gone, you were once again focused on your man. Not your man. Angel said this would kill him, he didn’t know it was going to kill you too even if you got your release.

“Gonna come…” You cried as he flicked your clit with his tongue. You were yanking at his hair, which only made him moan and made for a sweet vibration on that bundle of nerves. You rolled your hips against his face faster, nearing the edge. The sounds his tongue and your slick were making were enough to put a porno to shame and it only brought you closer.

“Come, let me take you there.” Heaven. You could see it behind your eyelids, could fucking feel it as your orgasm finally shot through the surface, taking you sky high. You let out a litany of curses mixed with his name, eyes watering at the intensity of your high. Earlier you didn’t know if you were flying or drowning, what you realized now was that you were flying and drowning. A mix of gasping for air while simultaneously flying right through it.

Finally you caught a breath as your climax started to fade, Angel still licking his way through it with gentle strokes. You whined as you finally came down, finally came back to this world. He lapped you up slowly and then placed a small kiss to your clit before pulling away and looking up at you. Your breath shook as you looked into his eyes, as he kept your gaze and laced his fingers through yours. You let him. Not having the energy to fight him. He knew what this was, he said it himself before he dropped to his knees. It made you feel slightly less guilty about only taking and not giving.

He finally got to his feet. You saw the tent in his pants but he adjusted himself and cursed under his breath. He didn’t seem to care about that though as he looked at you. You didn’t like the look. A look that held a lot of promise. His beard was slightly damp from your come and your core throbbed at the sight. He licked his lips as if he knew what you were thinking about and took your face in his hands.

“Forgive me.” He whispered, desperate again. You knew what it was. He said he’d get you off, nothing to it, but of course there was a small part of him that thought you’d change your mind after another orgasm.

“No.” Your words stung him, you could tell. But his face hardened and you thought he’d pull away. But instead, he stroked your bottom lip with his thumb.

“You will.” And with that promise he was walking out the door, leaving you more confused than ever.

Taglist: @starrynite7114 @xladymacbethx @fear-less-write-more @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @glimmerglittergirl @vicmackeybullshxt @miss-nori85 @blessedboo @kalimont83 @ctrlbitch @angelreyesgirl @langiinspirations @lilac-tea-time @melancholymelanin @-im-fantastic- @withmyteeth @isisafrofairy @elektriknachosss @krysiewithak @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @mental-bycatch @smurfflynn @blackmissfrizzle @arination99 @bucky-iss-bae (if you want to be removed from the taglist for this fic pls let me know!)

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes imagine #mayans mc

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part VIII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k

Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie.

Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?

Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand.

“He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”

Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills.

“Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.

“Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”

Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.

“I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”

“What?” Mike frowns. How even…

“It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”

“Why was I—”

“We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”

He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb.

He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.

Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code.

The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment.

He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while.

Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him.

He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting."

Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her.

He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."

Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough.

So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up.

Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it.

Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it.

Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time.

Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.

They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them.

One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine.

Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.

Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban.

There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off.

So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time.

He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person.

Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes.

Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks.

He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face.

You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him.

Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it.

He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is.

"Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."

"It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of… like-minded individuals."

Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."

"Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way.

Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."

"Who's going?"

The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"

"Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be.

"Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."

"Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"

"You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."

Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."

"Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles.

"Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."

Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch.

He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—

Mike ends up going.

After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius.

Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."

Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi.

"Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."

"Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch.

"I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."

"Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes.

Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'?

"Man, fuck off."

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of.

"Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles.

Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."

Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."

"If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs.

Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party.

They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight.

High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room.

It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.

It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil.

He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike.

Good.

Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date.

He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor.

Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be.

Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—

"Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him.

"Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."

Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in.

"Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle.

"You know what."

Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry?

Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here.

It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity.

Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard.

Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones.

Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach.

If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg.

Not together his ass.

When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while.

He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away.

Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it..

He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it.

But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.

They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.

Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”

* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers

It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.

So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts.

It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late.

There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”

“It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."

"Literally what did I just say?"

"If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."

"Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."

Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"

"That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."

"I just wanted to make sure you knew."

"What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."

He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."

You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."

"If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"

"Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."

Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying.

"I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly.

You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."

"Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."

"You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."

"I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."

"Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.

"Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?"

"No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."

Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.

Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing.

So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did?

Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him.

And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay."

Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment.

"What time is it?" You speak into his shirt.

"About eleven thirty."

You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—

But nothing.

You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?

Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it.

"Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to.

"Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard.

You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"

His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."

Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike.

"Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."

Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me.

"Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."

"I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"

Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around.

Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down.

"I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before.

You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."

Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand.

"That's not what I meant."

It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."

That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited.

"If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition.

Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

"You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."

You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?"

His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind.

"Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before.

"Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike."

There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly.

"And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."

He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should.

Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs.

"You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."

One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch.

"Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching.

"Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."

He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.

"That's fucked up," you somehow manage.

Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time).

You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different.

His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike.

It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place.

You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for.

Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car.

He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…

Dude obviously likes to be slapped around.

There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—

Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith.

You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?"

"I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."

"See what?"

"You and me—"

"You and I," he corrects, and you shove him.

"You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."

"Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."

"That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."

"Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."

"Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?"

He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?"

"Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."

His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."

Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly.

"You caaare about meee."

He scoffs and looks away

"Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."

"Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."

"I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?"

He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?"

"Absolutely. Hundred percent."

"You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing.

Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."

Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."

You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you.

"You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"

Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."

"Wow, fuck you."

"That's the idea," he smirks.

"Har fucking har. You're so funny."

Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?"

"Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."

"Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."

You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point.

Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction.

"Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Sounds like a challenge to me."

"Men," you sigh. "So predictable."

After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin.

This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive.

"Stop making that face."

"What face?"

"That—that—"

You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back.

"What face, hm?"

The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down.

Damn. He's good at this.

"Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off.

He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants.

You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future.

Maddening. He's maddening.

You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him.

"I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath.

"It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.

"A year and a half of having to look but not touch."

"Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it.

"Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?"

You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once.

Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle.

He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.

Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.

You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.

He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.

“Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”

Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”

You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face.

You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen.

“Feel better yet?” He smirks.

You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”

Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees.

If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it.

He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink.

“I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”

He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck, fuck—”

His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—

That’s not important.

Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.

“Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”

You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths.

You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”

You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out.

“Want me to wear a condom?”

“I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”

“Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”

You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away.

“Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”

You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you.

“Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.

You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him.

He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders.

He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time.

Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?”

“Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”

He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”

“Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed.

You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.

“Shit, shit, shit—”

Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep.

He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean.

You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them.

Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.

But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type.

Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction.

Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…

“Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”

There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length.

You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows.

Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other.

He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—

Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out.

Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—

You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—

“Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice.

You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss.

He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike.

Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”

“I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now.

Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”

Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”

“I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”

You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight.

“Fuck—shit—”

That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.

Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.

He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching.

With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.

But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”

It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree.

The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.

That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.

He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened.

Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.

“I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess.

“Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed.

“It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.

You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.

Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.

“Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”

He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug.

“I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

“Yeah, probably not.”

You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”

Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around.

You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair.

You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.

* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.

As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly.

“M-Mike?”

All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do.

“Are you drunk again?”

“No. Little buzzed.”

Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?

You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."

"What?"

"Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable.

"Mike?"

"I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."

You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy.

But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at.

For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster.

“Why have you been lying to me?”

And, there’s that drop.

You swallow. “I haven’t been.”

“Bullshit.”

“Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back.

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?”

You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.

Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…

God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”

You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other.

“I… I’m sorry.”

Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry.

“I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over.

Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn.

“Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.

“Why does it matter?”

You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”

Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”

It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself.

Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”

“Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”

“I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.

The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide—worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.

“Wh-what d’you mean?”

“I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”

“Mike…”

“No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”

“I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”

“No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”

He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it.

So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop.

“I have been… Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking.

“Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”

“Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”

“Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”

Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option.

“Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”

Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”

“That I’m not good enough.”

Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”

He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”

“Because I’m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet.

Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.

Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter.

Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful.

His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.

You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—

“I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”

You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you.

Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”

“I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you.

“Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”

You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse.

“I won’t bother you.”

“Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things.

You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.

It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.

But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.

Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares.

True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two.

He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room.

Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause.

Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.

Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.

He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his.

It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you.

That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall.

Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend.

It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it.

He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side.

But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic

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sassycassie-s-writing · 3 years

Text

Want You Back

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T- (little violence, little blood)

Original Idea: Exes-to-Lovers is kinda an underrated trope, when it’s done right.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one is... 2,833 words. I wish I could say I’m sorry for it being long but I’m not. Have fun! @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

“Oh shoot—hide me!” I hissed, ducking behind Daisy. She looked at me in confusion before glancing around the party.

She rolled her eyes. “Girl, you haven’t dated Jason in like a year. Can’t you at least try to be civil?”

“Oh trust me, I’d love nothing more than to be civil. Honestly, I’d love nothing more than to get back together with him. I thought we made each other happy. But he kept so many secrets and I can’t be in a relationship with someone who can’t be honest with me. We broke up so… explosively that I’m not sure we can speak nicely to each other,” I replied. “Just… block his view of me while I sneak into Jessie’s room, okay?”

Daisy heaved a heavy sigh. “Fine. But hiding from him won’t do you any good.”

“It’ll do us both a world of good if it means I don’t have to talk to him.”

Daisy did as I asked and blocked Jason’s view of me until we got to the stairs. I bolted up them two at a time and ducked into Jessie’s room. The door had been closed but unlocked. Once I shut myself inside, I leaned against it and sighed.

The bookcase in Jessie’s room was more meant for displaying knick-knacks than holding books, so a quick glance at her collection revealed nothing worth reading. I sat on the floor next to her bed, on her fuzzy pink rug, and stared at the screensaver on her computer monitor—a bunch of bubbles floating around and bumping into each other, changing colors.

Why was Jason here? Jessie knew he and I fell out over a year ago. Did she invite him? Did her brother? That seemed more likely. Jessie probably didn’t even realize he was here.

No need to get angry at her.

I pulled out my phone. I had a few books on it. Kept them just for this reason. Hide from a party and make people think I was just on my phone. I didn’t trust reading fanfiction in public, so I only kept traditionally-published work in my phone’s files.

I’m not sure how long I read. A half-hour, probably.

I was startled by the door opening and closing. “Whew. Dodged a bullet there,” a familiar voice said with a sigh of relief.

I looked up in alarm.

Jason was leaning against the door, eyes closed, breathing hard.

I held still. Maybe if he didn’t hear me, he’d slip back out to the party after a moment and leave me alone—and we wouldn’t have to exchange words. I watched my phone screen dim, then shut off completely, while Jason just stood there.

He opened his eyes. His gaze landed on me. “O—oh,” he said. “I… I didn’t know you were in here.”

I nodded, slowly and once. “I figured,” I said flatly. Awkward. “Did… Jessie’s brother invite you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But… one of his ex-girlfriends from high school wouldn’t stop flirting with me. So I pretty much ran away. I thought this was a bathroom.” He gestured to the room around us. “Clearly, I was wrong.” He glanced at the door over his shoulder. “I would leave, but I don’t want that girl to come after me again. Think we can get along long enough to share?”

I pushed myself to my feet, tucking my phone in my pocket. “No need. Since I came in here to avoid you, I’ll just go back to the party—and you can stay here for the rest of the night, for all I care. I will say, though, the bathroom is the next door down.”

I moved to brush him out of the way to leave Jessie’s room, but he caught my wrist. “Babydoll, wait,” he said, voice soft.

I pulled out of his grip. “Don’t call me that. I’m not yours anymore.”

“I miss you.” His big blue eyes were giving me puppy eyes.

“I miss you too. But you know perfectly well why I broke things off. I can’t be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth about why he disappears all the time—and clearly can’t keep his story straight. I thought we were happy together, Jason. But when you vanish for hours at a time with no word and come back with lame excuses, how was I supposed to trust you? I doubt you were cheating on me but how would I know? And what else was I supposed to think?” I knew I wasn’t strong enough to push him away from the door—the man was 6’ and 225 pounds of muscle—but when I shoved he gave way.

I yanked open the door and shut it hard behind me. I stomped downstairs and back to the party.

“You see Jason?” Daisy asked. “He went upstairs a couple minutes ago.”

“We spoke,” I said shortly.

Daisy cringed. “Went that well, huh?”

“Part of me still loves him, but I’m definitely still ticked at him.”

She made a face. “Sorry,” she offered.

“It’s fine.” I shrugged. “Anyway. Have you even seen Jessie or her brother?”

Daisy looked around. “I said hi to her when we first got here… but no, I haven’t seen her since,” she said. I followed her gaze. A sea of people in a small suburban house outside Gotham was pretty crowded for a party, and it was hard to see if Jessie and her brother Robert were even here anymore.

“Me neither,” I muttered.

“Wonder where they went,” Daisy mused.

“I mean, with the amount of people here, I’m not surprised I can’t see them.”

“Yeah…”

Somewhere nearby, I heard glass shattering. “Uh-oh. That can’t be good,” Daisy remarked. “If Jessie’s parents find out someone broke something—”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence as a window crashed in right next to us. I shrieked and grabbed Daisy, dragging her away from the flying shards. Several of them splattered over my jacket and cascaded to the floor, but I was lucky not to get impaled by any of them. A dark figure in body armor landed on the carpet, holding a large assault rifle.

I put Daisy behind me and backed up a few steps as the music stopped. She was taller than me, but hunched over she could almost disappear behind me. At least, whoever the intruder was wouldn’t have a clear shot at her past me.

“I’m looking for Jessica and Robert Williams,” the intruder said, levelling his gun at the crowd. Someone screamed from near the stairs.

While the intruder’s attention was elsewhere, I snuck my phone out of my pocket and found Jason’s number. I sent a text as fast as I could. Get out of here. Shooter just broke in.

That was all I had the time for before slipping my phone back into my pocket like I never had it out. The intruder prowled around the crowd. “Jessica… Robert…” he singsonged. I held Daisy’s wrist behind me. “If you two don’t show yourselves in the next sixty seconds, I’m tearing up your friends.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the text on my watch. Jason Todd: I’m not leaving you.

I slid my phone out. You have to. At least call the cops.

The window on the other side of the living room shattered inward. Another dark figure swooped through and landed on the floor. My first thought was Batman—but as the figure straightened from his landing, I saw a red helmet glinting off the disco lights.

“Red Hood,” I breathed, in awe. I’d seen him a couple times. Imposing, tall, muscular. I’d only ever seen him from a distance. Seeing him up close was almost more terrifying.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you,” Red Hood said to the intruder, voice being run through some sort of ring modulator to disguise it, “that it’s rude to gate crash a party?”

The intruder growled, “Red Hood,” like an animal. My blood ran a little colder.

Red Hood stepped forward, completely unfazed. “Get out now, and this doesn’t have to get any uglier than it already is.”

“What do you care, crime boss, that I get up to a little trouble?”

“I care because everyone knows my rules. No innocents get harmed. Look around you. This place is full of innocent people.” Red Hood gestured to the party crowd. For a moment I could have sworn the eyes of his helmet lingered on me. But he was probably looking at the window. “Get out before I haul you out in a body bag.” He whipped one of his massive handguns into his hand, cocking it with the other in one practiced, fluid motion.

The intruder levelled the assault rifle at Red Hood’s chest. “Make me,” he spat.

Red Hood shrugged. “Okay.”

Bang! His handgun went off. I jumped. The intruder dropped to the floor, his rifle spraying bullets briefly toward the ceiling before stopping when he hit the carpet in a splatter of blood.

Red Hood looked around. “Everyone okay?”

A few scattered nods.

“Good. Get out on the front lawn. Wait for the cops to show up. They should be here any second,” he ordered.

The crowd rushed out the front door, bottlenecking and slowing down. Daisy included. I stayed where I was, staring at Red Hood. He noticed me not moving and came over.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

I looked down, peeling my hand away from my right side to reveal the blood soaking my shirt. “His spray. It got me,” I said, voice hoarse. My head was light and fuzzy. Not from blood loss—not yet. More likely from the shock of getting hit.

His helmet tilted down and he looked at the wound. The ring modulator distorted his whispered swearing but I still figured out what he said. “We need to get you to the hospital. Like, ASAP. And I can’t take you on my bike. Did you drive here?”

I nodded. “My car—it’s the dark green Explorer half-a-block that way.” I pointed down the street to the left with my non-bloodstained hand.

Red Hood nodded. “Keys?”

I pulled them from my other pocket and passed them over.

He swung me up into his arms and left. The crowd had cleared the front door in the time it took us to talk, so he marched across the front lawn and headed for my car. I heard Daisy call my name, but didn’t have the mental strength to call back.

As he walked down the block, each step jolting my wound, he said, “Batman, I’ve got a GSW. Taking her to the hospital. There was a hostile at a party in the suburbs. I took him down and the GCPD is on its way, but I’m moving the wounded girl.” He paused for a moment, but I couldn’t hear anything. “Yes, it’s a girl. She’s got her car here. I’m taking her in that.” Another pause. “Copy that. I’ll check in later.”

Red Hood set me gently in the passenger seat and laid it as flat as it could go. “Just hold on, babydoll. Hold on,” he said softly.

I scrunched my eyebrows as he shut the door and circled the hood to get in the driver’s seat. Once he gunned the engine, I put my clean hand on the arm of his brown leather jacket. “Why’d you call me… babydoll?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know your name, miss, and I thought it’d be more comforting.” The car pulled away from the curb.

“You just heard my friend shout my name.”

He swore again and sighed. “Fine. Just don’t freak out. You’ll lose more blood.” He pulled his helmet off with one hand. “Couldn’t see as well to drive with that thing on anyway.”

Jason’s tousled black hair, white streak at the front, puffed up a bit as the helmet freed itself from his head. I tried to sit up, but fire burned in my side and I flopped back down before I’d even moved an inch. “What?” I squeaked. “Jay?”

His eyes flicked to me briefly. Deep blue and… there was something melancholy in them. “Yeah, babydoll,” he said. “It’s me.” There was his sad smile. One I’d seen many times. “You haven’t called me Jay since…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but I remembered when I’d stopped calling him Jay and “my Jay baby.” It was about a month before I finally had enough of his excuses and lies and broke up with him.

“Is this… is this why you always disappeared for hours and came back with excuses?”

“And could never seem to keep my story straight? Yeah. I wanted…” He sighed. “I wanted to tell you so many times but Batman said it would only be safe for me to tell you if we ever got married. And even then you’d still be in danger. You made me so happy and it killed me to lie to you. Killed me even more to lose you. When you broke things off… I am not proud to admit that every criminal I fought on patrol that night went to the hospital with more broken bones than I usually leave. I love you. Still. So much so that this past year has been… empty. Without you.”

I cleared my throat of the tears clogging it. “I said to Daisy earlier tonight, when I first saw you at the party, that I’d love nothing more than to get back together with you. But I couldn’t if you were going to keep things from me again.”

“Don’t get my hopes up like that while you’re in shock, please babydoll. Because I don’t know if you mean it or if you’re babbling from the shock and have no idea what you’re saying.”

“I told you I miss you,” I pointed out.

“That doesn’t have to mean you still love me or want me back.”

“But I do. To both. Love you and want you back. You can be honest with me now. But, we can talk about it when I don’t feel like passing out from pain.”

He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Hey. Hey, hey, hey. Don’t you dare pass out on me. If you do, you might not wake up again. Stay awake, babydoll. Stay awake. Please.” His grip tightened on my fingers. I tried to nod, but I wasn’t feeling well. My vision was a little blurry and I was tired.

“I’ll try,” I said.

We kept driving. Jason had fallen into pensive silence.

“Alright. We’re here,” he said. He parked my car and put his helmet back on. Then he ducked out, circled the hood, and picked me up to carry me into the ER, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Just stay awake. I’ll come visit—as me—later, okay?”

I nodded. “I’d like that,” I said.

Automatic glass doors slid open. Someone yelped. “GSW,” Jason said, voice modulated again. “Right side. No exit wound.”

“Get her on a gurney!” a nurse called over his shoulder.

I hugged Jason tighter. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He nodded. “Of course, babydoll.” His voice was soft. Comforting.

He set me on a gurney, and I watched him stride out of the hospital as they rolled me away.

—

When I woke up after surgery, Jason was there. Alone. Blue jeans, red T-shirt, hair a mess, and dozing in the armchair. “You look like crap,” I croaked.

He jolted and sat up. “Speak for yourself, babydoll,” he retorted. But he spoke gently. “Your family’s down in the cafeteria, getting some breakfast. I told them I’d keep you company. Your mom looked like she might murder me just for suggesting it, but I told her we made up enough to be friends at the party. So she—begrudgingly, mind you—allowed me to stay.”

“Just friends?” I asked.

He smiled and sat forward to run the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “For now. You said we’d talk about it more when you were feeling better.” He leaned back in the armchair. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Still not great, but the shock has worn off, at least.”

“That’s good.”

“I meant it, by the way,” I said. “That you can be honest with me now, so if you’re willing, we can try again.”

Jason met my eyes. There was hope in his expression. “Are you sure?” he asked.

I smiled. “Absolutely. I told you before: I miss you.”

He leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to my lips. The EKG monitor beeped a little faster as my heartrate spiked. I grabbed his shoulders as he moved away, and pulled him back to me. He smiled into my lips as I kissed him again.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

He tilted his head for a better angle, and I pushed one of my hands into his hair.

The door to the hospital room opened. “What’s going on in here?” Mom demanded.

#Want You Back #Jason Todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #Red Hood #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #DC #DC Imagine #dc fanfiction #BatFam #batfam imagine #batfam fanfiction

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castthy-nightedcolour · 3 years

Text

One- Shot: The Seaside Dream (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Aziraphale, Crowley

Warnings and Tags: depression, skipping meals, dynamic duo, here come the boysssss, soft crowley

Summary: you don’t show up for wine with crowley and aziraphale, and the two hurry to your apartment to see what’s going on

Word Count: 2281

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/83889112

‘Crowley, please hurry!’

The pained cry of the angel came from the top of the flight of stairs in your apartment block, echoing off the concrete walls. This mixed with the reverberant sigh of Crowley, and the ever- so- slow tread of his footsteps.

‘CROWLEY. This is important! Do you not care?’

The demon stopped dead in his tracks, planting his feet at the bottom of the set of stairs that the out of breath Aziraphale stood at the top of.

Crowley was not at all happy with the angel’s question.

‘Do I not what? Care? Oh Angel, you’re asking to be pushed down these stairs,’ he responded, almost growling under his breath. In any other circumstance, this might have actually pleased Aziraphale, however this time, he was actually terrified.

The scenario had started with what Aziraphale called ‘a dreadfully funny feeling.’

Since Armageddon was narrowly avoided, the angel and the demon had found themselves at somewhat of a loose end on Earth, enjoying their free time together but still constantly striving for some higher purpose.

That’s where you came in. Little did you know that a walk into a lovely little bookshop called A.Z Fell & Co. one day to search for an overpriced illustrated copy of your favourite book would lead to drinking a couple of bottles of wine with the owner and his companion for seven hours straight, and that this would become a weekly tradition. You just clicked with the pair, you found them magnetising and, well, you were a fascinating human to the angel and the demon, so they quickly grew fond of you.

The two supernatural beings then decided that their purpose would be caring. Caring for you.

Not in a suffocating way though, at least that was never the intention. Between the two of them, Crowley and Aziraphale decided from the get go that they would just be there for you as a friend, with little extras added on top like going out and buying your shopping for you whenever there was a thunderstorm, or baking you enough cake to feed the 5000. But, the pair’s talents in observance and intuition slowly made them realise that something was always just slightly off with you.

To them, it seemed like there was always something hidden behind a wall in your head, like a pretence that you constantly held up. Granted, part of their realisation came when in one of your drinking sessions at the bookshop, you let slip that you hadn’t eaten a proper meal for two days and they both nearly hit the roof. They asked you why, and kept asking why (Aziraphale in particular was extremely persistent) but you brushed it off- you always brushed it off.

‘No no, it’s nothing to be worried about, I promise! I’ve just been so busy, y’know? It’s nothing, please Aziraphale, you can sit down. Don’t you worry about me.’

Now, Crowley could sense a lie from a mile off considering he was the lord of them, and Aziraphale could feel that your inner emotions were about as steady as a mongoose riding a pedal bike, and they therefore deduced that they should in fact worry about you.

And so the slightly incompetent suffocation began.

This was definitely mainly from Aziraphale, as his senses for detecting emotional suffering and hurt were a lot stronger than Crowley’s- this was just down to how long he’d been pulling angelic manoeuvres. Crowley was a lot less practised however when he felt that something was off, he really did feel that something was off. This however meant that wherever in London you were, Aziraphale would realise that something was wrong, no matter how small the inconvenience.

Notable occasions included when the tubes on the Central Line were running one minute late and Aziraphale unsuccessfully attempted to miracle another train up, causing even more delay and destruction, when the bottom of your shoe fell off in a puddle and Aziraphale got so upset that he cried for an hour, (to be fair, he’d had a long day; someone had tried to buy a book from the shop which had displeased him greatly) and when a seagull crapped on your shoulder while you were sitting outside a bar at Canary Wharf and the angel managed to manifest a fluke bolt of lightning which struck the seagull down right into your food.

And all this from the comfort of his own home.

Crowley had tried to tell the angel that not every inconvenience could be sorted out, that the pair needed to pick their battles with the perils of the human life.

‘Yes yes, I understand. I’ll stop, I promise. We’ll stick to the original plan. Now have you seen my banana bread recipe? I think they could do with a pep up.’

This lasted for 22 hours.

You hadn’t shown up to the bookshop like you did every week.

‘Oh Angel do stop pacing, they have a life of their own you know,’ Crowley nagged, holding a bottle of red wine in one hand as he stood in the doorway between the main shop and the back room.

‘Something is wrong, Crowley. I have a dreadfully funny feeling,’ Aziraphale insisted, wringing his hands and pacing at twice the average speed of an angel.

‘Right, yes, okay but the problem is, you’ve said that every night for two weeks and it hasn’t been true once.’

‘You can’t sense it like I can.’ The angel stormed towards the coat stand, reaching for his coat.

‘Oh no no no, we agreed, no suffocation. Put that down, you’re not going anywhere,’ the demon asserted.

‘Oh yes we are. Put that wine in the back, you’re driving.’

Crowley had rarely heard Aziraphale’s voice like this before, low and extremely demanding. There wasn’t any way he was getting out of this, the angel was on a mission.

And so, Crowley drove the angel to your apartment block and the two of them ended up in the stairwell facing off with each other. Too highly strung for their own good.

‘What if this is the one time that I’m right? You’re here getting all… demonic on the stairs and-‘

‘I will get demonic, Aziraphale. I am in fact a demon, plus if this is the one time that you’re right then you’re holding both us back by squabbling. Move out of the way.’

Crowley marched up the stairs stony faced, swooping straight past Aziraphale to your front door.

He did care. He really did. He just didn’t like to show it around Aziraphale because he always felt inferior in they way that he cared compared to the angel. He didn’t have those massively intuitive senses, his baking skills weren’t up to scratch, he felt held back by control. But something in the demonic form burned when he thought of the idea that you were hurting- and that burning was made more painful by Aziraphale’s suggestion that he didn’t care.

He snapped his fingers at your door, and it violently swung open, hitting against the wall of the hallway as it did. He stormed inside, barely letting Aziraphale follow behind before he snapped his fingers again to close it. Darkness and silence fell over the hallway as the angel and the demon stood completely still, their anxious breathing slowly filling the space.

They could both easily sense one important thing- you were present in the apartment, you were safe within the four walls. There was a collective sigh of relief.

‘Told you,’ Crowley sneered under his breath, trying to hide his still present anxiety. As much as he could feel your presence, he was struggling with any of the finer details, your emotional state or your exact whereabouts.

‘Don’t be like that. I was only trying to help,’ Aziraphale whimpered, taking a small step forwards. Unlike Crowley, he could just about tell that you were somewhere in the general direction of your bedroom. The angel clicked his fingers and uttered a small ‘let there be light’, allowing the hallway to be illuminated by a faint white glow. There was no other light coming from anywhere due to a distinct lack of windows in the architecture of this building, the only three were in your living room, your bedroom and your kitchen and even then, you’d shut all of the curtains and all of the doors in the place.

The angel padded further down the hallway, leaving Crowley to look at the prints on your walls like an awkward cousin at a party. By the time Aziraphale had reached your bedroom door, Crowley had moved onto examining the items on the coffee table that was slightly further down the hall. There wasn’t a lot to examine, a couple of books, your keys, an Alexa that you’d turned the microphone off on. The one thing that caught Crowley’s eye was a small painting of a seaside town just laying down on the table. It wasn’t anywhere near being finished and much to Crowley’s dismay, it was crumpled up. He assumed two scenarios from this, either someone had given you an unfinished painting and you felt so strongly about it that you took to crumpling it up, or this was in fact your handy work that had been partially destroyed.

‘Crowley, what now?’ Aziraphale whispered from the end of the corridor, bringing Crowley’s gaze up from the table and back to reality.

‘Uhhh, don’t scare them. Don’t just burst in,’ the demon responded, moving down to meet Aziraphale by the bedroom.

‘I wasn’t planning on doing that! I just mean, do I knock? Just go in? Announce our arrival?’

Crowley rested his hand lightly on your bedroom door, looking quizzically at Aziraphale who was jumping through every possible scenario in his head. The demon sighed.

‘Just, shush. Okay, let’s just be quiet. Follow me, angel.’

Crowley very slowly pushed your bedroom door open, being greeted with yet more darkness from inside as he did so. Aziraphale hung over his shoulder to try and look inside, with Crowley grunting slightly at this. Through the darkness, Crowley made out a shape in the bed.

You, curled into a ball and fast asleep. Your breathing was heavy, but not laboured, and the bedsheets rose and fell accordingly. You were as close to comatose as could possibly be, dead to the world but luckily, very much alive.

‘Aaah. Oh, look,’ whispered Aziraphale. Crowley glared slightly at the angel, but inside, his sentiments were very similar. The pair stared at your form resting in the darkness for a few seconds, relieved with every breath that you took. With anyone else? It would have been creepy.

But not with these two. It was a deep devotion and concern.

Aziraphale went to take a step forwards but Crowley stopped him in his tracks, stopping the angel from getting anywhere near you.

‘Don’t even think about waking them, look. They’re deep in dreamland,’ the demon hissed, meeting Aziraphale’s puppy eyes.

‘Oh please, I just wanted to check that they’re okay.’

‘Aziraphale, they’re very clearly shattered. I think that we’ve discovered that they’re definitely not okay, but interrupting their sleep won’t help anyone. Let’s just, y’know, help where we can.’

‘But their soul-‘

‘I know. We’ll help with that tomorrow. For today, they sleep.’

Aziraphale eventually backed off slightly, looking down while nodding in defeat. While his deep concern could only ever have come from a place of love, he realised that stepping back for a second could be beneficial to everyone. He started to head towards the kitchen to see if there was anything that he could help with in there, turning back round for a second to ask Crowley what he should do. Crowley however was no longer stood in your doorway, and was instead sat on the edge of your bed, resting his hand on your leg.

The angel went to protest in some jealousy for a moment, but the warm glow that filled up his heart because of the sight stopped him. He just smiled, and turned back.

—

Between the pair of them, you were treated to a clean kitchen, a full fridge, a massive fuzzy blanket for the bed and soft, warm light for each room.

But there was one final detail bugging Crowley.

As the pair crept down your hallway back to the front door, Crowley let out a soft whistle to his friend as he stopped beside the coffee table. The angel turned his head, looking at the objects scattered about the surface.

‘What’s this?’ He asked, strangely intrigued by the small speaker- like object.

‘It’s an Alexa, it’s like a - y’know what, doesn’t matter. That’s not what I need you for. Look at this.’ Crowley picked up the ruined painting that he’d spotted earlier, showing it to Aziraphale. The angel scanned over it.

‘Ooh, its Whitby, the place with Dracula!’ He half gasped half squealed, failing to see what his friend was seeing.

‘It’s fucked is what it is, angel. I think they’ve crumpled it up in frustration or something, which I’m not exactly thrilled with. I’m out of niceness for today, can you do something?’ Crowley sighed, thrusting the painting towards his friend slightly.

‘Oh, easily. Your wish is my command, dear.’

Aziraphale swiped his hand across the paper and watched as the creases disappeared and the smudges eased. The colours got just a little brighter, and the beauty of your half- finished painting was restored.

‘We’ll help them finish it tomorrow, yes Crowley?’ The angel continued. Crowley gave a small smile with all the good energy that he had left in his body.

‘Yes angel. That would be nice.’

#good omens #good omens one shot #good omens fanfic #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader

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retvenkos · 3 years

Text

newfound love | t.l.

Little Women - Laurie Laurence x Reader, slight angst, fluff

tw: mentions of a dead mother

word count: 1.9k

A/N: i’m apparently incapable of writing fluff without first mentioning crushing loss, so that’s fun.

prompt: we’re going out in the cold for a walk, and I know you don’t want to get wet, but I’m trying to convince you to make a snow angel with me

The first thing (Y/n) knew was the cold. From the moment they had been born, they knew the icy touch of frigid air and the bite of snow. Winter babies were often babies who didn’t survive, but it had been their mother that didn’t last the night. Their family had mourning during the most dangerous of seasons, snow falling on their cheeks and melting at their hot tears.

Ever since, (Y/n) knew that winters often brought more problems than they were worth - from the cold, to the lack food, to the bouts of sickness that always seemed to follow, and the tight grasp of melancholy that held their heart hostage. Times were hard enough without the troubles of a changing season, and to have winter come early was simply cruel.

Already the winds had changed, and sometimes, when (Y/n) looked around at the people who surrounded them, they thought they could tell who was already blown away.

Laurie had always been rather good at convincing them that it was just worry, but the feeling never left, just gnawed a little less.

Now, with the war being what it was, there was more at risk, and more that ate at (Y/n), devouring the very root of their being. It hadn’t taken long for Laurie to notice the strength of (Y/n)’s grief, that year, and he had grown intent on trying to show (Y/n) the beauty of winter, even with it’s hardship and death.

“You can’t just have one,” he had said, sounding much older than he usually did. “Everything is good and bad.”

“Are we?”

And Laurie had laughed unabashedly, as though the thought had never crossed his mind. (Y/n) hadn’t admitted it, then, but they resolved that if naivete was the worst of Laurie’s offenses, they could fall in love with all of him - the good and bad.

In his attempts to demonstrate the enchantment of winter (because Laurie was a true romantic, and he did insist winter was enchanting), he had exhausted every effort he could think of.

He had taken (Y/n) out to ice skate, had taken them to a winter dance, and had even stolen some of his grandfather’s seasonal wines for them to share. Although that last one was largely a success, before they were caught, (Y/n) still couldn’t shake the idea that winters brought nothing but misery. It was an instinct set deep in the fibre of their soul; something created the moment they were born, when the ice and cold had stolen them from the warmth of a mother.

It seemed, even with Laurie’s efforts, that there was one inescapable truth about (Y/n)’s experiences:

Winters were bleak and their frosts were long, lingering well after the snow had melted and the sun dared to peek out once more.

When it neared the end of winter, (Y/n) had assumed that Laurie had let his little project go. It had been a while since he asked them about their opinion of the winter months, and while (Y/n) still caught him staring every once in a while, he made no effort to speak of what he was thinking.

On a day when the cold seemed to be letting up, (Y/n) and Laurie made plans to meet the next day. He had some books he wanted them to see, and (Y/n) was in the throes of a crisis - finding themself unable to oppose Laurie’s good, if often too forward, nature.

When (Y/n) woke to find that it had snowed sometime between night and early morning, they had sighed, but steeled themself to the reality of it. The day prior they had promised Laurie they would go over, and when Laurie had smiled, they had even promised to be in a better mood. Laurie had said that they needn’t hide their feeling for his sake, but (Y/n) put their hands over his and told them they wanted to.

“It won’t be winter for much longer.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time (Y/n) managed to speak too soon.

Bundled in their warmest clothes, (Y/n) had set out in the cold, intent to walk to Laurie’s house, no matter the weather. The snow crunched beneath their boots, and the rising sun made a blinding glare against the white expanse, but they journeyed forth.

Laurie didn’t live too far away from (Y/n). In the summer months, walking to his house was a welcome distraction and the view of the world in full bloom never ceased to amaze them. (Y/n) looked around at the snow covered world around them and tried to appraise it in Laurie’s eyes - what enchanting beauty could be found, when everything was frozen in time?

Perhaps there was something beautiful in the vastness of it - when covered in snow, the world didn’t seem to end at definite horizon. The clouded sky met the snowy land in a sort of haze - one color mixing with the other and never quite distinguishing itself. And the icicles hanging from trees seemed to shine like diamonds when the sunlight hit them, just right. The ice was sharp and deadly, yes, but it was also delicate and easily broken.

(Y/n) stopped beneath a tree and when they looked back at the way they came, there was almost something poetic in the way their steps had made a trail - like their existence in the world left a mark, no matter how small.

(Y/n) looked down at their shoes, shaking their head at their own thoughts. If only Laurie saw them now - he might think all of this was his doing.

Perhaps it was.

(Y/n) scuffed the fresh layer of snow with the tip of their shoe, revealing some of the grass beneath - a dark green that reminded (Y/n) of the decorations Laurie had insisted on putting up, claiming that the atmosphere alone would be enough to convince them of the beauty of winter.

(Y/n) was careful to admit it, but all of Laurie’s antic - from the most simple to the elaborate - had made them feel better. Most of the time. Laurie’s presence alone was enough to coax happiness out of them, pushing down that melancholy that stubbornly clung to their being.

“(Y/n)!” A voice brought them out of their thoughts, and it took a moment for (Y/n) to realize they had been smiling.

Laurie, wrapped in a thick coat, was running over to them, his expression a blur and hair flying wild. The sun was rising with him and made it hard to focus on his nearing figure for long, but when he was close enough, Laurie blocked the glare with an amusement that seemed to shine brighter than his heavenly competitor.

“I didn’t think you’d come out for a walk.”

(Y/n) brought a hand up to tame his hair. “Well, I did promise you, didn’t I?”

Laurie nodded his head, dark hair flying once more. “I just thought that with the snow, you might have changed your mind.”

“If it was anyone else, I would have.”

“Do I really mean that much to you?”

(Y/n) felt their cheeks get hot and burrowed their face deeper into their scarf. Laurie hummed in acknowledgement, neither triumphantly nor disappointedly, just markedly.

“You wouldn’t be admiring the weather, would you? I was trying to compose a poem on my way here - something that would capture the essence of a final snow.” (Y/n) scoffed and Laurie’s teasing eyes caught their gaze. “Perhaps you have a line or two to add?”

“Maybe,” (Y/n) conceded, “but only if I can write it somewhere warm - preferably in front of a fireplace, with those books you mentioned.”

The two set off in the way Laurie had come, (Y/n) making it a point to step in his footprints from earlier so that they might avoid getting wet anymore than they already were. Despite having consented to the idea that the winter might be slightly beautiful, in its own, haunting sort of way, (Y/n) was still averse to the cold, and there was nothing worse than the kind of cold that stuck to your skin after getting your clothes wet.

It was when Laurie’s house was in sight, and closer to them than the distant horizon, that snow started to fall from the heavens, sprinkling through Laurie’s dark hair and settling on his scarf. A snowflake fell on (Y/n)’s eyelashes, and they took in a breath, preparing to sigh, but stopped themself short. Laurie looked at them from the corner of his eye, just barely managing to suppress a smile from creeping onto his lips; there was affection in his eyes, though, sweet and pure.

“(Y/n),” Laurie grabbed their hands and the party in question turned to them, snow collecting on their head like the soft down of a duckling. “Do something for me?”

“What?”

Laurie fell back into the snow, letting go of (Y/n)’s hands as he dropped so that he wouldn’t pull them with him. He fell back with an “oof” that seemed to knock the wind out of him, but he quickly recovered started moving his arms and legs, fanning outwards to create a snow angel.

(Y/n) scoffed and shook their head. “Laurie, you’re going to get all wet.”

“And so will you, when you join me.” Laurie’s smile was convincing, making up for his lack of persuasion skills. (Y/n) was able to resist, if only barely.

They opened their mouth to refuse, but no sound came. Laurie seemed to notice the falter in their resolve because he held out a hand, sitting up carefully as to not ruin his angel.

“The house is right there. We’ll be inside before the cold seeps through the layers of your clothes.”

“Is this another attempt of yours to get me to fall in love with winter?”

Laurie smiled devilishly, despite what he had created just moments before. “You’ve already fallen in love. My schemes are over.”

Laurie was right - (Y/n) had fallen in love - but whether it was with winter or the boy who pointed out it’s beauty, was hard to tell. Maybe a snow angel would help them decide...

“Fine, for you.”

A moment after the words left their lips, Laurie reached for their hand and tugged them downward, pulling (Y/n) with such a force that they stumbled in their fall and landed half on top of him. (Y/n) shrieked and screwed their eyes tight.

They were awfully close, when dared to peek. Lauries cheeks were flushed scarlet, although whether it was from the cold or their position was hard to determine. (Y/n) shuffled away and lay down in the snow, hesitating before putting their hands out. Laurie lay back down, a little breathless, and the two stared at each other for a moment before laughing, not minding the wet snow beneath them.

(Y/n) eventually pushed their arms out and made their frozen angel, their fingers grazing Laurie’s arm.

When the two stood up, they both looked at their creations with a critical eye.

“We ruined those pretty well, don’t you think?”

“You were the one who pulled me down!”

“You didn’t give yourself enough space to make wings.”

(Y/n) and Laurie looked at the other challengingly before breaking out in chuckles.

“Let’s get inside. I wouldn’t want your newfound love of winter spoiled by catching a cold.”

(Y/n) nodded, but it wasn’t until they were sitting in front of a fire, books between them and blankets draped over their shoulders, that (Y/n) told Laurie, in just above a whisper, that it wasn’t winter they had discovered their affections for.

#little women #laurie laurence #theodore laurie laurence #laurie x reader #laurie laurence x reader #theodore laurence x reader #reader insert #laurie imagine #laurie laurence imagine #theodore laurence imagine #fluff #slight angst #tw mentions of death #holiday prompts #imagine #one shot #fic #fanfiction #fanfic

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embrassemoi · 3 years

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 23

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader CW: Drinking, slight internalized homophobia A/N: The first part dives into Lily's sexuality. It’s pretty innocent but may make readers uncomfortable. If you want to skip, go past the line break and I bolded the words ‘Round round get around’ for when it’s ‘safe’ to continue!

Chap 23 Playlist

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 23: The Daily Quarrel

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

Lily always considered herself to be calm, rational and level-headed, that’s what made her a great prefect and student. But over the last five months, Lily felt herself becoming everything but that.

Lily never concerned herself with dating. Of course, she’d entertained the thought. She had crushes before, many crushes, and dabbled in the idea of romance, love, dates and commitment. Especially now as it seemed like the older she got, those around her fell into relationships and quick snogs in the broom closet that she was forced to break up one too many times. If she were to date, she didn’t want to force it. Lily wanted it to come naturally. It was never that important. If it happened, it happened, and she would welcome it with open arms.

But recently, it was all she could think about.

At first, it was a passing thought. Boys — dating — and then other things she thought she buried deep down began to resurface.

Girls, by every definition, were beautiful. Lily would admire the way they style their hair or religious headwear, how they carried themselves with such effortless grace that they never seemed to notice themselves. Girls, women; Lily thought they were thoughtful, kind and more respectful than men. She felt loads more comfortable around them before her thoughts began to turn more obscure — until her mind quickly shut it down and interjected that she just wanted to be close friends.

That was an utter lie.

It’s not like Lily didn’t feel any sort of attraction towards boys. She did, very much and had feelings both romantic and well… er — unleashed a plethora of other feelings. Lily was not opposed to holding hands, kissing or cuddling them, she really liked the idea and felt herself grow warm. She would do all sorts of things with the right boy. But there was something so exciting, yet frightening when the idea of hand-holding, kissing and cuddling with Y/N. That certainly left Lily with sweaty palms, heart racing and a flustered mess.

Whenever she held her hands, went around holding her arm in the halls, or crept into each other’s beds at night, Lily felt like a puddle of nerves.

She’s managed to force a smile most of the time whenever improper thoughts surfaced. She could be alone, walking the hallways for her prefect duties and something would pop up: when her fingers ran through Lily’s scalp when she brushed her hair. Her smile. Her eyes… her damn eyes… All she thought about these days was her. How was Y/N doing? She’s so funny! Would she like the way she styled her robes today? How would she look on top of — ARGH! Lily was mortified half the time.

Let’s just say that it was a gradual realization.

Lily wasn’t stupid, far from it and knew what was happening and it left her on complete edge, especially around Y/N. It left her face scarlet red and felt as if her chest was about to burst into a bloody mess. She couldn’t even look or be anywhere near her sometimes because it was too overwhelming.

But her feelings… Lily grew up being taught that she wasn’t supposed to feel this way for another girl, let alone both boys and girls...

Her heart, mind, morals, feelings, everything she believed in was at war. Lily felt herself change inside and out. It’s always been there, those… emotions — and suddenly it just ripped at the seams. Y/N was just the tipping point.

But why did it feel like such a crime for something so innocent? Something that is supposed to be beautiful?

And Y/N… out of all people!

It had been a very tiring and stressful school year so far.

Potter’s birthday had coincided with Gryffindor’s win against Hufflepuff and thus, a joint party was thrown. Lily watched from the sidelines as Y/N’s back faced her. The glowing of lights, all charmed red, immersed her as she snapped an abundance of photos of a very plastered Potter having the time of his life. He stood on a table, drunkenly singing.

Another bright flash went off and she brought the camera down, took the photo and shook it. A wide smile plastered on her face as she watched the photo develop and her body shook with laughter. But as if Y/N knew Lily was staring, her head swivelled around with a smile so blinding that it hurt Lily’s heart; now filled with hot shame again.

She shouted over the loud music. “Petals! C’mon, let loose for once!” She pointed to the cup in hand.

Lily looked down, looking at the amber liquid filled to the brim of her cup, untouched. Her gaze looked back, giving her a shy thumbs-up and brought the cup to her lips. The bitter taste of Firewhiskey burned before spreading warmly through her. But, Y/N’s reaction was worth it.

Lily tried to still her heart as she ripped her gaze away. Y/N made her feel everything but calm, rational and level-headed. It was terrifying.

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‘Round round get around, I get around, yeah

(Get around round round I get around, ooh-ooh) I get around’

“Hip-hip —” James bellowed, raising a glass filled with Firewhiskey in the air.

“HOORAY!” The Gryffindors roared back.

“Hip-hip —”

Throughout the night, Sirius danced with probably every girl there before he went to turn the record player louder, re-filling his glass. He watched as James hopped off the table and made his way to Emmeline, peppering her skin with sloppy kisses that made her laugh and eyes crinkle.

They all officially met her that night. She’s sweet, kind and they found out she’s just as crazy as James in the love department and they seemed beyond happy.

Peter was there, who looked at the two, almost enviously, faced stained red before solemnly bobbing his head to the music. Sirius didn’t think much of it, instead just passed it off as a sad drunk.

‘I'm gettin' bugged driving up and down the same old strip

I gotta find a new place where the kids are hip’

Sirius cringed; he was never a fan of the Beach Boys but Wormtail and Prongs loved it…

Students jumped, rocking to the blasting music. Some talked, some were snogging, others tipsy or drunk. Sirius grinned from ear to ears as he looked around the room, searching for Remus. He was already a pole light, he would stick out like a sore thumb. But instead of Remus, Sirius’ eyes settled on L/N; film in hand, talking to another student. He was blond, a year above them, large in stature and Sirius recognized him from the Gryffindor tryouts back in September. Aldrich McLaggen.

His face was beat red as he chatted with L/N, his hand toying with the sleeves as he looked her up and down, wearing a flirtatious yet apprehensive grin. The bastard was flirting with her.

Sirius felt himself grip his glass tighter than normal, his free hand bunched into a tight ball while pressing firmly to his side. Neither she nor Sirius spoke, aside from their Puffskein assignment and it was killing him. From the discomfort or wishing they had kissed that night — he didn’t know. But it was tortuously awkward.

“Padfoot,” came a voice. Remus leant against a nearby table as he sipped his drink. No matter how much he seemed to drink, Remus was able to knock back drinks after drinks without it affecting him. Sirius envied that but then the thought passed, eyes settling on L/N.

“Moomy.”

Remus followed Sirius’ eyes, scrutinizing the situation.

“She’s so annoying,” said Sirius. He didn’t even mean to speak, it just slipped out.

Remus’ brow rose. “Talking about this, again? She’s not. L/N’s my friend and I like her.”

Sirius shook his head. “She’s insufferable. Who does she think she is?!”

“... Who?”

“Just look at her!” Sirius exclaimed, using large hand movements. “She acts like she owns the place. Just because she’s new she assumes she’s better than everyone else! And —” Sirius continued to rant but Remus blocked him out, head shaking.

Fucking idoit, Remus thinks. He wants to slap Sirius silly. When will he stop talking about her?

“— taking all of my friends: Prongs, Lily, Marlene, Wormy, you! I was —”

“You sound like a child.”

“— so smart. The Slugclub? All filled with stuffy pricks — except you and Lily — the kicker, I’ve seen her with Regulus! A Slytherin! Come on. That’s just asking for —”

“Padfoot —”

“— don’t understand how —”

“Crikey! Sirius!” Remus scolded. Sirius went quiet, intimidated by him. Remus took a deep inhale, his eyes fluttering shut but asked, “Why do you hate her? Is it because of that fucking rejection because —”

“What?!” Sirius’s voice cuts, loud and booming to the point where several heads swirled to look at him.

Remus looked at them, making hand movements to shoo them off. “Mind your business.”

“Moony, you know me! Come on! Sure, I’m a dick, but I’m not that much of a dick!”

“Then what is it? It can’t just be that she’s annoying.” Of course, Remus was right again. Always so blunt and never failed to be clear-cut.

Remus then tipped back his drink in one go without a flinch and left Sirius’ side. He’d much rather do his prefect duties than listen to him go on about the same conversation for what seemed like the eighth time that week. With Sirius left to sulk, he sighed and looked back to the scene, feeling irrational jealousy bubble up.

L/N laughed at whatever McLaggen said, who leant into her ear. What an obvious bloke.

Maybe it was because of the mix of alcohol that made Sirius place his cup down and stride up to them, but even he knew it wasn’t just the Firewhiskey.

“I’ve always wanted to visit. How was it like living —”

“McLaggen.” Sirius’ voice came out gruff and cold.

Both their heads turned towards him and she sent him a look, telling him to go. But too stubborn, he stayed put.

“Um… Black. Hello,” McLaggen responded. Sirius continued to stand tall, body language closed off, telling him silently to leave.

Tosser. Pillock. Daft bimbo lookin’ arse —

The boy coughed awkwardly and threw L/N a tight-lipped smile. “See you!” She nodded her head, giving a small, friendly wave. “Bye!”

Sirius took his place instantly. “Finally, you said something right for once. He’s a git.”

L/N’s face scrunched up in confusion. She sent daggers his way and he had to stop himself from smirking. “Surprise,” he drawled, hands going up to shake in jazz hands. “You seem happy to see me.”

“Why are you talking to me? People might think we’re friends.”

“Like we were ever just friends.”

Her mouth hung open after registering what he said and Sirius felt like using an unforgivable curse on himself. Did he have to bring it up like that?

Sirius was all over the place with his thoughts. Point blank, he didn’t know what the fuck was happening. He so badly wanted to draw near, to touch her and hear that damn laughter, but did he?

His… very unwelcomed feelings — whatever they were, were beginning to get in the way of his already messy life. Was it the chase that made him feel so electric, the need to dive into someone else to cover up his own problems? Was this him dabbling in his unhealthy behaviours and would this just set him back? Sirius wasn’t sure and he walked a fine line.

Humans, especially those like Sirius, are social beings. Like most people, they craved recognition, approval and constant reassurance from those around them. People want to fit in that desired image but struggle to find happiness — lost in that perceived image they chase. Desired reality… it’s like a mirage. The constant back and forth only drained him and it had been more apparent than ever since the break. That pretty packaged Sirius — was that him subconsciously crawling its way out, making him lose the little progress he’s made by continuing whatever this was? A game, his true feelings or a way to be social, to fill that void settled deep within his chest?

But he doesn’t think so, and that freaked him out even more. What scared him was that he wanted to get to know all the little parts of her, no matter how much he tried to deny it. It felt like a mantra playing in his head, questions about her he wanted answered. But he could never be sure.

L/N remained silent and he cut in, trying to cover up his internal dilemma.

“Now look who’s the quiet one.”

“Be more conceited, will you?”

“Insolent brat.”

She grinds her jaw aggressively, to the point where he swears he can hear bones crunching but she holds back from a snarky comment. His mouth opens, ready to add on before L/N turns around to survey the room. He watches as she looks up to James and back to him and then a small, separate room that’s cut off from the main room. The last thing either wanted was to ruin James’ night or cause a scene. “Follow me.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, teasingly staying back a beat before another Gryffindor girl comes up to him. He’d danced with her earlier. “Pretty boy,” she greets, “Fancy another dance?”

Sirius’ eyes travel to L/N who’s eyes hardened as she stomped back up to him. “Sorry, but pretty boy” her voice dripping in obvious sarcasm, “Has somewhere to be.” Then, she tugged on the hem of his sweater and the action had Sirius’s heart flutter. He let her lead him through the crowd, nearing the room.

“Pretty boy? So you do think I’m pretty?” He smirked, watching her duck her head to prevent him from seeing her reaction.

Out of the entire student body he could’ve had feelings for — feelings he’s never felt before that caused him to go speechless, heart speeding and the urge to inch closer — it had to be her? She never knew how to take a joke either! How James and Remus were so fond of her, he didn’t know.

She shoved him into the small room, casting Muffliato. It was ill-lit, the only source of luminosity were the red lights seeping in the cracks of the door and the small window; twinkling stars shining just enough. The mixture of lights made her look alluring.

“What do you want?” Her voice is passive-aggressive.

You, he reckons. Or maybe a permanent silencing charm to never have to hear her speak again. Either seemed great.

Her eyes rolled, impatient as he remained silent. “Could you be anymore… confusing? You’re hot and cold! First, you’re nice to me, then mean. Then come up to me, ruin my conversation with Aldrich and now you’re silent.”

“Fine. I don’t want to be here with you, happy?”

“Like you didn’t start this.”

“It’s not my fault you’re infuriating, constantly running your mouth.”

She takes a deep breath, her hands rubbing her face and let’s out a frustrated groan. Her eyes snap back open, “I hate you.” The silence was loud.

Sirius felt himself freeze, eyes turning half-lidded as he took a few steps towards her. She backed up, sliver of a smile there. His chest rose, breathing deeply, “Say that again.”

L/N looked up at him with those eyes he swore looked right through him. Simply being that close made him feel as if he ran a marathon. Then, a wicked, yet timid grin worms its way on her face. Their soft breaths were tense, like if either were too loud, everything would come crashing down.

She repeats. “I hate —”

She doesn’t finish her statement as Sirius pressed himself against her, pushing her back but snakes a hand to prevent her head from hitting the jagged wall.

His voice was low. “Are you sure you want to say that again?”

Her breath hitches. He grins. She swallows. “I. Hate. Y—”

Each syllable was hushed as Sirius pressed his lips onto hers, gentle, sweet and hesitant, contradicting compared to their banter.

When the initial shock wore off, he felt Y/N respond to the kiss, deepening it. Her lips parted and Sirius slid his tongue inside. She was a bit clumsy, hesitant but eager. Sirius smirked at her. Everything felt startling, incredible and better than what Sirius imagined it to ever be like. He felt like a firecracker, a warm feeling spreading through his veins like fire.

She’s soft, incredibly so. His free hand went to roam around before settling on the base of her back, stroking the soft skin up and down. Her hand is threaded through his hair just hard enough that he has to bite back a groan. Her other hand is pressed firmly onto his chest and god — she feels so good.

To Y/N, Sirius tastes like what you think he would taste like. He tastes expensive, smells really good and his kisses are a lot softer than she expected — the very opposite of him: energetic, rough, messy and wild. Instead it’s delicate, sweet and velvety.

She’s the first to pull back and Sirius can’t help but move his head to try and catch her lips but settles on pressing his forehead against hers.

Their soft pants fill the air and Sirius feels like screaming. His skin is boiling and she looks beyond enthralling. Their eyes locked and her eyes washed over him with such an intensity that it could rival any ocean wave.

Neither spoke, just trying to process what happened, letting their eyes run wild before she tucks a fallen strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear. The action, so small and fairly insignificant, made something so bubbly flare in his chest.

Both of their pupils are blown wide and this time, she’s the one to lean in first; with a series of soft peaks before Sirius prolongs it. Both his hands are now on her face, tilting her head up before one goes to graze her neck.

There wasn’t a sinking or horrible feeling in his chest that made him feel used or worthless and he took that as a good sign to continue.

This time, it’s faster, rough and passionate and Sirius leads, his hips pressed against her, caging her against the wall. Her hand then went to embrace Sirius, her nails scratching down his back and he involuntarily slipped out a soft groan into her lips.

Merlin… she’s more intoxicating than any brand of alcohol he’s ever drunk.

Eventually, they simultaneously pulled away, using whatever sense they had left and Sirius was left feeling high and shaky. Y/N looked away first, Sirius continuing to stare wide-eyed.

“Um — w-we should — ugh — get going —”

“— Right, I was just about to…”

Sirius backed up, letting Y/N free as she went to sit on a nearby chair. Sirius ran a hand through his hair and stumbled back into the party. He exhaled deeply, fingers outlining his lips in shock.

He must be mad — blood fucking mad! They’re both equally mad!

God, he must be blushing like a damn fool and certainly, he’s not going to be able to sleep tonight. Blimey…

Once James saw him, he pointed and made a B-line, strutting over, his hips exaggerating until he swung an arm around him.

“Siriusss! You’re my best friend!” James ruffled his hair, “Did you know that? Merlin — you light up my world.”

Sirius felt himself smile, but he’s still not fully there. His mind thinks back to her touch: soft and fleeting and god does he crave more and — what is she thinking?

“In love with me? You’re going to have to get in line.”

“Love with all m’friends… Moony… Wormtail — Whiskersss.” James slurred his words slightly and went on a tangent but Sirius’ eye remained on the door, waiting for her to come back.

She’s taking an awfully long time. Fuck, did he push it?

“Mate — earth to Padfoot?” James says, this time knocking his fist on his head like a door. “SIRIUS! Yoo-hoo! In there?”

“Yeah — sorry. A lot’s on my mind.”

James studied him, looking a lot more sober than he did just seconds ago as he went to fix his glasses and said seriously, “Is it… the nightmares again? We can go and talk about it?”

This caught his attention. Ever since Valentine's, he’s been talking to James about them — or at least mentioning bits and pieces which helped a lot more than he expected. “What? No, no it’s not that.”

“But if it is, you’ll tell me, right?”

Sirius has to stop himself from snorting, but it’s all too endearing. “Of course — I’ve only gotten them two times this week.”

Prongs grins like a mad man, throwing his fist in the air. “That’s one down! Amazing! You are amazing.”

And then he hears the door click open and it’s her. She sent him a small smile, barely there but Sirius felt his heart swell. Marlene bounced up to her, pulling her into a dance along with Mary. He watched as her head tipped back with a smile so dazzling and he felt his skin turn fuzzy again.

She got under his skin like nobody else and he’s starting to love it.

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