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dfroza · 6 months

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facing opposition in the bravery of faith

(to keep the message pure in heart)

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 5th chapter of the book of Acts:

Once a man named Ananias, with his wife Sapphira fully cooperating, committed fraud. He sold some property and kept some of the proceeds, but he pretended to make a full donation to the Lord’s emissaries.

Peter: Ananias, have you allowed Satan to influence your lies to the Holy Spirit and hold back some of the money? Look, it was your property before you sold it, and the money was all yours after you sold it. Why have you concocted this scheme in your heart? You weren’t just lying to us; you were lying to God.

Ananias heard these words and immediately dropped to the ground, dead; fear overcame all those who heard of the incident. Some young men came, wrapped the body, and buried it immediately. About three hours had passed when Sapphira arrived. She had no idea what had happened.

Peter: Did you sell the land for such-and-such a price?

Sapphira: Yes, that was the price.

Peter: Why did the two of you conspire to test the Spirit of the Lord? Do you hear those footsteps outside? Those are the young men who just buried your husband, and now they will carry you out as well.

She—like her husband—immediately fell dead at Peter’s feet. The young men came in and carried her corpse outside and buried it beside her husband. The whole church was terrified by this story, as were others who heard it.

Those were amazing days—with many signs and wonders being performed through the apostles among the people. The church would gather as a unified group in Solomon’s Porch, enjoying great respect by the people of the city—though most people wouldn’t risk publicly affiliating with them. Even so, record numbers of believers—both men and women—were added to the Lord. The church’s renown was so great that when Peter walked down the street, people would carry out their sick relatives hoping his shadow would fall on some of them as he passed. Even people from towns surrounding Jerusalem would come, bringing others who were sick or tormented by unclean spirits, all of whom were cured.

Of course, this popularity elicited a response: the high priest and his affiliates in the Sadducean party were jealous, so they arrested the apostles and put them in the public prison. But that night, a messenger of the Lord opened the doors of the prison and led them to freedom.

Messenger of the Lord: Go to the temple, and stand up to tell the people the whole message about this way of life from Jesus.

At dawn they did as they were told; they returned to their teaching in the temple.

Meanwhile the council of Jewish elders was gathering—convened by the high priest and his colleagues. They sent the temple police to the prison to have the Lord’s emissaries brought for further examination; but of course, the temple police soon realized they weren’t there. They returned and reported,

Temple Police: The prison was secure and locked, and the guards were standing in front of the doors; but when we unlocked the doors, the cell was empty.

The captain of the temple police and the senior priests were completely mystified when they heard this. They had no idea what had happened. Just then, someone arrived with this news:

Temple Messenger: You know those men you put in prison last night? Well, they’re free. At this moment, they’re at it again, teaching our people in the temple!

The temple police—this time, accompanied by their captain—rushed over to the temple and brought the emissaries of the Lord to the council. They were careful not to use violence, because the people were so supportive of them that the police feared being stoned by the crowd if they were too rough. Once again the men stood before the council. The high priest began the questioning.

High Priest: Didn’t we give you strict orders to stop teaching in this name? But here you are, spreading your teaching throughout Jerusalem. And you are determined to blame us for this man’s death.

Peter and the Apostles: If we have to choose between obedience to God and obedience to any human authority, then we must obey God. The God of our ancestors raised Jesus from death. You killed Jesus by hanging Him on a tree, but God has lifted Him high, to God’s own right hand, as the Prince, as the Liberator. God intends to bring Israel to a radical rethinking of our lives and to a complete forgiveness of our sins. We are witnesses to these things. There is another witness, too—the Holy Spirit—whom God has given to all who choose to obey Him.

The council was furious and would have killed them; but Gamaliel, a Pharisee in the council respected as a teacher of the Hebrew Scriptures, stood up and ordered the men to be sent out so the council could confer privately.

Gamaliel: Fellow Jews, you need to act with great care in your treatment of these fellows. Remember when a man named Theudas rose to notoriety? He claimed to be somebody important, and he attracted about 400 followers. But when he was killed, his entire movement disintegrated and nothing came of it. After him came Judas, that Galilean fellow, at the time of the census. He also attracted a following; but when he died, his entire movement fell apart. So here’s my advice: in this case, just let these men go. Ignore them. If this is just another movement arising from human enthusiasm, it will die out soon enough. But then again, if God is in this, you won’t be able to stop it—unless, of course, you’re ready to fight against God!

The council was convinced, so they brought the apostles back in. They were flogged, again told not to speak in the name of Jesus, and then released. As they left the council, they weren’t discouraged at all. In fact, they were filled with joy over being considered worthy to suffer disgrace for the sake of His name. And constantly, whether in public, in the temple, or in their homes, they kept teaching and proclaiming Jesus as the Anointed One, the Liberating King.

The Book of Acts, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

In these formative days, God sends some strong messages about His work in the church: the power to heal, the beauty of life in the Spirit, and His hatred for arrogant religion. If God does not rebuke the married couple who chooses to make a show of their supposed generosity, then Christianity might drift in the wrong direction. While the Jewish leaders are using religion as a means to gain power and increase their reputations, the teachings of Jesus lead down a path toward the kingdom of God rather than toward human advancement. God chooses to expose these bad motives quickly, so that the church can give out of pure motives rather than out of a desire to appear righteous.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 38th chapter of the book of Genesis:

It was about this time that Judah decided to leave home, so he parted company with his brothers and went to see Hirah, a fellow from Adullam. When he was there, Judah laid eyes on the daughter of a Canaanite man named Shua. He married her and slept with her. She conceived and gave birth to her first son. Judah named him Er. She conceived again and gave birth to her second son, whom she named Onan. She then gave birth to her third son, and she named him Shelah. (Judah was away in Chezib when she gave birth to him.)

Now Judah arranged for Er, his firstborn, to marry a woman named Tamar. But Er, Judah’s firstborn, was a particularly wretched human being in the eyes of the Eternal One, and so the Eternal ended his life. Judah summoned his second son, Onan.

Judah (to Onan): You know our customs and the duty of a brother-in-law in a situation like this. You must go and marry your brother’s wife and make sure your brother has an heir.

Resentful that any child born in this kind of marriage would not be his, Onan would interrupt intercourse and spill his semen onto the ground whenever he slept with his brother’s wife. That way he would not father a child that would belong to his brother. Onan’s selfish behavior was as wretched as his brother’s to the eyes of the Eternal One; so the Eternal ended Onan’s life like his brother. Judah summoned his daughter-in-law Tamar.

Judah: Tamar, it is best if you remain a widow in your father’s house until my son Shelah grows up.

Now Judah said this because he was afraid that Shelah, too, would die as his brothers had. So Tamar went and remained a widow with her father.

After a while, Judah’s wife (Shua’s daughter) also died. When Judah’s time of mourning was over, he and his friend Hirah the Adullamite went to Timnah to work with his sheepshearers and enjoy the festivities. When Tamar learned that her father-in-law would be coming to Timnah to shear his sheep, she took off her widow’s clothes, put on a veil to conceal her true identity, and sat down at the entrance to Enaim along the road to Timnah. You see, Tamar harbored deep resentment toward her father-in-law because she knew by this time that Shelah had grown up, but she had not been given to him in marriage as Judah had promised. When Judah passed by and saw her, he thought she was a prostitute because she had her face covered. He decided to proposition her, so he walked over to her by the roadside.

Judah: Come on, I want to have sex with you.

He had no idea she was his daughter-in-law, but she had a proposition of her own.

Tamar: What will you give me in return if I do?

Judah: I’ll send you a young goat from my flock. How about that?

Tamar: Only if you give me something to hold until you send it.

Judah: What should I give you as my personal guarantee?

Tamar: Your personal seal on the cord you wear around your neck, plus the staff you carry.

Judah did as she asked and gave her his seal and walking stick. He then went and slept with her, and she conceived his child. Then she got up, took off the veil, and went back home, putting on her widow’s clothes once again.

Judah kept his word and sent his friend Hirah the Adullamite with the young goat so he could retrieve his seal and walking stick from the woman. But Judah’s friend couldn’t find her anywhere.

Hirah the Adullamite (to Timnah’s elders): What happened to the temple prostitute who was at Enaim by the side of the road?

Elders: We have not seen any temple prostitute here.

Bewildered, the Adullamite returned to Judah.

Hirah the Adullamite: I couldn’t find her, and what’s odd is that the elders claimed they haven’t seen any temple prostitutes around there.

Judah: Well let her keep my things then. If you go back, we’ll be laughed at. I did what I promised. I sent the young goat, and you tried but could not find her.

Approximately three months later, someone told Judah, “Your daughter-in-law Tamar has been promiscuous. It’s obvious her business has even made her pregnant.”

Judah: Bring her out and expose her for what she is, and then let her be burned.

As she was being brought out, she sent word to her father-in-law.

Tamar: It was the owner of these items who made me pregnant. Please, take a close look and tell me whose personal seal, cord, and walking stick these are.

When Judah saw them, he realized they were his.

Judah: She is more in the right than I am. I did not keep my word and give her in marriage to my son, Shelah.

Judah didn’t sleep with her again.

When the time came for her to deliver, she discovered she was carrying twins. While she was in labor, one of them put out a hand; and the midwife tied a scarlet thread on it, so she would know which one came out first. But just then he drew his hand back into the womb, and his brother came out first. The midwife had never seen anything quite like this.

Midwife: What a breach you’ve made here, little one!

So the child was named Perez. His brother followed, the one with the scarlet thread on his hand. He was named Zerah.

The Book of Genesis, Chapter 38 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, April 9 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A set of posts by John Parsons for the Biblical New Year:

Shalom chaverim. The following blessing is traditionally recited whenever you want to praise the LORD for the works of His creation, for example upon seeing lightning, an eclipse (solar or lunar), or a comet, or when first seeing a mountain, a river, an ocean or other natural wonder:

“Blessed are You, LORD our God,

King of the universe,

who makes the works of creation.”

We must always keep in mind that reality centers on the LORD God of Israel, not in appearances and the rhetoric of political or media figures. Melo khol ha’aretz kevodo: מְלא כָל־הָאָרֶץ כְּבוֹדו, “the whole earth is filled with His glory (Isa. 6:3). The "signs and wonders" of the Lord are all around us, if we are willing to see!

Happy (biblical) New Year to you all..

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

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Psalm 72:18 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm72-18-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm72-18-lesson.pdf

At the advent of a new Biblical year, it is traditional to confess our sins and turn to the Lord with a renewed passion. Therefore the sages admonish: “Repent one day before you die” (Mishna Avot 2:15b). But who knows the day of one's death in advance? Therefore live each day as if it were to be your last, and may God help you make the wholehearted decision to “seek the LORD while He may be found; call out to Him while He is near” (Isa. 55:6). Amen. But many people live in a state of hesitation and uncertainty... The Spirit asks: “How long will you go limping between two different opinions?” (1 Kings 18:21).

This question is meant for us to hear today. We are being called to make up our minds and turn (shuv) to the LORD. After all, what is more important to you than your relationship with God? Is there anything more important than this? As C.S. Lewis once said, “Christianity, if false, is of no importance and, if true, is of infinite importance. The one thing it cannot be is moderately important” (God in the Dock). “For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand today -- if you hear his voice” (Psalm 95:7). Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your heart (Heb. 3:15). “Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God, but encourage one another every day, as long as it is called "today," so that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” (Heb. 3:12-13). Wake up! The time is now...

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

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Psalm 34:9 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com//Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm39-4-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm39-4-lesson.pdf

4.8.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365:

וִהְיִיתֶם לִי קְדֹשִׁים כִּי קָדוֹשׁ אֲנִי יְהֹוָה וָאַבְדִּל אֶתְכֶם מִן־הָעַמִּים לִהְיוֹת לִי׃

You shall be holy to Me, for I Hashem am holy, and I have set you apart from other peoples to be Mine.

Leviticus 20:26

Now, reread the verse we are studying. Why is this message that God has distinguished Israel from the nations included in our verse and then restated two verses later as the Bible concludes the chapter?

The point of this verse is to tell us something unique about the land of Israel. Namely, that the land of Israel responds to the moral behavior of those who live on it. Moreover, it is well documented that for the centuries when the Jewish people were in exile, the land of Israel was mostly desolate and uninhabitable. Testimonies from travelers throughout the centuries attest to this fact. It is only since the Jewish people returned to the land that it has begun to bloom again.

Amazingly, this relationship of the land of Israel to the Jewish people is foretold by the prophets of the Bible. We see it in the prophetic warning of the exile as well as in the prophecies of return and redemption. The land of Israel flourishes for the nation of Israel. For example look at these two different verses. First, from Leviticus, and then from Ezekiel.

וְנָתַתִּי אֶת־עָרֵיכֶם חָרְבָּה וַהֲשִׁמּוֹתִי אֶת־מִקְדְּשֵׁיכֶם וְלֹא אָרִיחַ בְּרֵיחַ נִיחֹחֲכֶם׃

I will lay your cities in ruin and make your sanctuaries desolate, and I will not savor your pleasing odors.

Leviticus 26:31

וַהֲשִׁמֹּתִי אֲנִי אֶת־הָאָרֶץ וְשָׁמְמוּ עָלֶיהָ אֹיְבֵיכֶם הַיֹּשְׁבִים בָּהּ׃

I will make the land desolate, so that your enemies who settle in it shall be appalled by it.

Leviticus 26:32

וְאַתֶּם הָרֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל עַנְפְּכֶם תִּתֵּנוּ וּפֶרְיְכֶם תִּשְׂאוּ לְעַמִּי יִשְׂרָאֵל כִּי קֵרְבוּ לָבוֹא׃

But you, O mountains of Yisrael, shall yield your produce and bear your fruit for My people Yisrael, for their return is near.

Ezekiel 36:8

כִּי הִנְנִי אֲלֵיכֶם וּפָנִיתִי אֲלֵיכֶם וְנֶעֱבַדְתֶּם וְנִזְרַעְתֶּם׃

For I will care for you: I will turn to you, and you shall be tilled and sown.

Ezekiel 36:9

We do our part; God does His

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

April 9, 2024

Occupied Territory

“But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.” (1 Peter 2:9)

In our ongoing struggle for both survival and victory in this world, we do well to recognize that we are in enemy territory. While it is true that our Captain created the world—indeed, “all things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made” (John 1:3)—and sacrificed His life to redeem it and will reign over it for eternity, it is also true that “the whole world lieth in wickedness” (1 John 5:19), occupied by “the prince of this world” (John 12:31) who is “the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience” (Ephesians 2:2).

The fact that we are surrounded by such darkness should come as no surprise, for before we were rescued by His grace, we too were part of the darkness—indeed, we had to be called out of it. John the Baptist came “to give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:79). Furthermore, as Christ taught, “men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19).

This confrontation overshadows mere human conflict, however, “for we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places” (Ephesians 6:12). But, praise God, we have been called “out of darkness into his marvellous light” as described in our text. Although we may still be in the world, our King has “delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear Son” (Colossians 1:13). “In him was life; and the life was the light of men” (John 1:4). JDM

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

This is Me Trying

Part one and two

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers!

Synopsis: it’s time for secrets to come out

Masterlist

“How’s the project coming along?” You asked as you laid your head in Peter’s lap. You were in his room, like you always were, a month after you officially started dating.

“Just about done.” He answered you. “I made the periods bigger so we’d hit the maximum page length.”

“Ooo.” You snickered. “What a bad boy.”

“I’m really not.” He chuckled and began to play with your hair. “This is the most incriminating thing I’ve done all year.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you were.” You shrugged. “I like bad boys.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Remember that guy that like died in the war but then came back to life as an assassin? From a few years ago?” You asked as you looked up at him.

“The Winter Soldier?” Peter wondered.

“Yeah. Him.” You nodded. “I wanted to fuck him.”

The bluntness in your tone knocked the wind out of Peter’s chest. Nothing could have prepared him for what you had just said. You were too busy laughing to notice how shaken he was.

“W-what?” He stuttered as you sat up.

“I don’t know.” You laughed. “Like, I knew he was a murderer but I was into it. I wanted to spread him on a cracker.”

Peter pouted and folded his arms, his jealously getting the better of him.

“He’s not as strong as he looks, you know.” Peter got defensive. “And his hair is super greasy. It’s like a freaking slip and slide up there.”

“Hm. That’s a problem for me. I’m more into curls.” You smiled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “And how would you know how strong he is?”

Peter gulped, realizing he had said a little too much. Spider-Man knew how strong Bucky was, but you didn’t know about that.

“I don’t.” He lied. “I’m just assuming.”

“You don’t think he’s strong with that metal arm?” You asked as you pulled up a picture of him on your phone. “His biceps are like the size of my head.”

“They’re only bigger than mine because he’s older. A lot older.” Peter insisted. “Like, he’s geriatric.”

“Oh my God. Look at him!” You ignored Peter’s comment and showed him a picture of Bucky. “I want to suck on his thighs.”

“Ew.” Peter whined. “He’s like 400 years old.”

“So what you’re telling me is he’s experienced.” You raised your eyebrows suggestively. Peter let out an angry huff, jealousy bubbling in his stomach.

“Gross.” He groaned. “Why are you saying this in front of me? I’m your boyfriend. Not him.”

“I’m just kidding, Pete.” You chuckled and cupped his chin. “Plus, he’s basically a fictional character to us. It’s not like he’s some guy we know.”

Peter looked to the side, hating when he had to lie to you. Bucky was someone he knew personally, but you didn’t know that.

“Hm.” Peter mumbled quietly. You noticed Peter’s expression and climbed into lab, straddling his hips.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” You cupped his face and rubbed your nose against his. “I didn’t mean to make you all pouty. I’m only kidding about the Summer Soldier.”

“Winter Soldier.” Peter halfheartedly corrected you.

“Winter Soldier. See?” You shrugged. “I don’t even know his name.”

“You still said you would fuck him, though.” Peter pouted as he looked down at his lap.

“I said I wanted to. Past tense.” You corrected. “I had crush on him when I was like 14. I don’t even think of him or his thunder thighs anymore.”

“I have a hard time believing that.” Peter grumbled. You could tell he was still jealous so you pulled him in for a long kiss.

“It’s true. I only have eyes for you, Pete.” You whispered once you pulled away. He cracked a smile before rolling his eyes at you.

“Right.” He said sarcastically. “Just me and the murderer you want in your pants.”

“Come on.” You whined when he didn’t let up. “Can you even blame me? He works with the Avengers. You have to admit, that’s hot.”

Peter stopped pouting when he heard this. He may not be able to be the kind of bad boy you liked, but he was an Avenger.

“You really think that’s hot?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Duh.” You stated. “Don’t you like the Avengers?”

“Most of them.” He nodded. “But not Bucky.”

“Who’s Bucky?” You asked.

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “The Winter Soldier.”

“Why did you call him Bucky?” You laughed in confusion. You had no idea who James “Bucky” Barnes was. Unlike Peter, who sat across from him at dinner a week before.

“That’s his nickname.” Peter explained without thinking it through.

“I didn’t realize you and the Winter Soldier were on a nickname basis.” You teased. “What does he call you?”

“He doesn’t really talk to me.” Peter shrugged. “He’s really quiet, except when he’s with Cap.”

You sat back suddenly, looking at Peter like he was crazy. He was forgetting who his audience was and how you knew nothing of his double life.

“What?” Peter asked when he saw your face.

“Bucky? Cap?” You repeated his words. “Who are these people? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Bucky goes by, well, Bucky. And most of us call Steve, Cap.” Peter explained. “Well, except for Mr. Stark. He calls him Blondie most of the time.”

“So you’re hanging out with the avengers now?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, when when I’m…” Peter trailed off when he realized his mistake.

“When you’re what?” You asked. Peter knew he backed himself into a corner here. He didn’t want to lie to you anymore, so he figured it was time to tell you the truth. Not that he has much of a choice.

“I have something to tell you.” He stated. “It’s kinda important.”

“Okay.” You nodded and held his hand. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out, okay?” He prefaced. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds.”

“Oh.” You gasped. “Are you gay?”

“What? No.” Peter answered immediately. “Why was that your first guess?”

“Well my first guess was steroids but I know how you feel about that.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“It’s neither of those things. I’ve Uh…I’ve been bitten.” Peter began, not sure how else to phrase it. You smiled a little, thinking he was flirting.

“So have I.” You mumbled as you brought his hand to your lips to kiss the back of it.

“No. Not like that.” He waved his hand and your face fell. “I mean, yes like that. But that’s not what I’m talking about right now.”

“Then what is it, Peter?”

“They do a lot of experimental science at Oscorp. Genetic mutations, stuff like that.” He explained, beating around the bush.

“Why are we talking about Oscorp?” You wondered.

“I broke into one of the labs freshman year.” He explained. “I was trying to figure out some equation my father was working on.”

“Okay.” You said skeptically.

“I ended up in this weird room with all these modified spiders and one bit me. Right here.” He showed you his knuckles, which had a tiny scar on the center. You took his hand and examined the scar closer.

“What is this leading to?”

“After I was bitten, I could do all these things I couldn’t do before.” He told you. “I could climb walls, lift buses, and you know, my biceps grew.”

“You’re telling me a spider bite gave you muscles?”

“I’m telling you that I’m Spider-Man.” He said finally, making the room go silent. It was his first time telling a person on purpose, so it meant a lot to him. Your expression changed from skeptical to serious as you dropped his hand. You reached forward slowly and touched his face, staring at him like you were seeing him for the first time.

“Oh my God.” You whispered. “Peter, you’re…”

He put his hand over yours when you trailed off, anticipating the end of your sentence. Suddenly, you pushed his face away with a smirk.

“Full of shit.” You finished. “You are so full of shit. You almost had me.”

“I’m not.” Peter insisted. “I am Spiderman. I swear.”

“Peter. Be serious.” You whined as you got off his bed. “I thought you had something real to tell me.”

“I am being serious.” He told you. “This is the truth.”

“This is the truth.” You mimicked his voiced, like you used to. ��Why would I believe that? Because you called the Fall Fighter by his nickname? Please.”

Peter was starting to grow frustrated. He always feared someone would find out his secret and he’s have to beg them not to tell. He never imagined he’d be sitting in front of his girlfriend, trying to convince her he was Spiderman.

“I know Bucky’s nickname because I know him.” Peter explained as he got off his bed. “It’s the same reason I know how strong he isn’t. He tried to punch me once and I caught his fist before he could. And that thing is made of vibranium. My hand hurt for a week.”

“I don’t get it.” You shrugged. “I don’t get the joke.”

“It’s not a joke. I really am Spiderman.” He insisted. “Mr. Stark recruited me back in 2016 to help him fight Captain America at an airport in Germany.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “And I killed Princess Diana. I killed her and framed John-“

Peter grabbed your face and kissed you to shut you up, not wanting to hear your jokes when he was trying to tell you the biggest secret of his life.

“Can you shut up for a second?” He asked sweetly when he pulled away. “I’m trying to talk to you about something important. And we both know who really killed her.”

“No you’re not.” You snorted. “You’re trying to mess with me.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” He whined. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re saying ridiculous things.” You chuckled as you walked over to your phone, which had been resting on his desk.

“May’s asking what we want for dinner.” You read her text off your screen. “Do you want Chinese again or-“

Before you could finish your sentence, Peter shot a web at your waist and pulled you towards him. You stumbled into his arms before looking down in confusion. You saw the web attached to your hip and tugged at it, but it didn’t come off. You looked at Peter with wide eyes for some answers.

“What the fuck?” You whispered harshly as you yanked on the web.

“Do you believe me now?” He asked as he held up his wrist. You saw the web shooter he had slipped on and touched it carefully. Between the web on your hip and his crazy story, you had no choice but to believe him.

“Well now I’m just embarrassed.” You mumbled sheepishly. “I was pretty sure I was right.”

“I told you you’d have to get used to be being right.” Peter smirked as he helped pull the web off of you. You put your hands on your hips and sighed loudly as you processes the information.

“Okay, wait.” You began. “How have you been Spider-Man this whole time? I’ve seen you fall up the stairs.”

“It’s different when I have the suit on.” He told you. “It gives me confidence.”

“Can I see it?” You asked, a childlike smile on your lips.

“The suit? Sure.” Peter went to his closet and pulled it out of his hiding spot. He brought it over to you, noticing your awestruck expression and smiling.

“Wow.” You whispered as you stared at the folded suit. “Can I touch it?”

“Go ahead.” He smiled, loving how impressed you were. He watched you fondly as you carefully ran your fingertips along the suit, tracing all the lines and details.

“It feels like a football.” You commented, making him laugh.

“Yeah.” He agreed. “I’m not sure what material it is. Mr. Stark made it for me.”

“Tony Stark made this for you?” You gasped.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “A few years ago.”

“Is that when he recruited you?” You wondered. “For Germany?”

“Is it. You listened.” He smiled happily when you remembered little details he had told you.

“Well I can’t tune you out anymore if you’re my boyfriend.” You winked at him before returning your attention to the suit. He blushed a little, appreciating how far you’ve come in your relationship.

“Can you put it on for me?” You asked suddenly as you looked up at him. Peter didn’t expect this reaction, especially not this request.

“Really? You want me to put it on?” He smiled shyly.

“Please?” Your eyes lit up. “I want to see you in it.”

“Okay.” He nodded as he tried to hide his excitement. “I’ll go put it on.”

Peter went into his bathroom and slipped into the suit. He didn’t know why he was as excited as he was to show you. Maybe because you hadn’t caught him in the suit like May and Ned had. He told you his secret willingly, and you asked to know more.

“Are you ready?” You called from the other side of the door. “I feel like I’m waiting to see you walk down the aisle.”

“I’m ready.” He called back as he pressed the center of the suit so it tightened against his skin. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before going back to his bedroom.

“Here it is.” He said sheepishly as he walked towards you. “What do you think?”

Your jaw dropped a little when you saw him. He seemed taller, but you realized it was just because he wasn’t slouching. In his suit, he looked more confident then you had ever seen him. He looked like a hero, and it brought a smile to your face.

“Holy shit.” You whispered as you walked closer to him. You reached forward to touch him, but quickly moved withdrew your hand.

“Are you scared?” He worried when he saw you pull away.

“No. Not of you.” You assured him. “But sometimes I find random glitter on my hands and I’m scared of getting anything on the suit.”

Peter chuckled at your reasoning and picked up your hand.

“It’s okay. You can touch me.” He whispered as he put his hand on his chest. Your eyebrows went up when you felt his warmth through the suit.

“Wow.” You smiled softly. “I didn’t think I’d be able to feel your heartbeat through it”.

“Well you make it beat pretty fast.” He told you as he put his hand over yours.

“Wait.” You pulled away a little. “If you’re Spider-Man, does that mean…”

“Yes?” Peter asked when you trailed off.

“You can set me up with Bucky.” You finished your sentence. “Do you have his number? Tell him I want to wash his hair.”

Peter let out a loud groan, not finding your joke funny. You laughed and tried to pull him back to you, but he kept pulling away.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Come back.” You laughed and tugged on his arm. “Come here. I love you.”

Peter stopped pulling away and froze. When you saw the bewildered look on his face, your smile fell.

“What?” He asked, his voice coming out in a whisper. That shit eating grin you used to hate broke through, lighting up his features. You tried not to let your shock show as you realized what you had said.

“Hm?” You pretended not to understand. “What?”

“What did you just say?” Peter again, now unsure he has heard you correctly.

“I didn’t say anything.” You shrugged, trying to act like you didn’t just tell your boyfriend that you loved him. It’s not that you didn’t mean it, but you didn’t mean to tell him that soon.

“Did you just tell me you loved me?” Peter asked hopefully as he pulled your closer to him.

“Hm. No. Wasn’t me.” You shook your head. “Must have been the wind.”

“My windows are closed.”

“Air conditioning.” You corrected.

“It’s off.”

“Then I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t tell you I loved you. That would be ridiculous. How could I have fallen in love with the most annoying person on the planet?” You asked, questioning yourself more then him. You didn’t know how you had fallen for Peter in such a short amount of time. Just a few months ago, you couldn’t stand him. Now, you were standing in front of him, hoping he loved you back.

“I ask myself that every time I look at you.” He said, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“Are you saying you love me too?” You asked slowly.

“I thought you didn’t tell me you loved me?” He smirked, always taking a chance to tease you.

“I didn’t.” You lied, but you knew you were caught.

“Damn. That’s a shame.” Peter smiled softly. “Because I love you.”

“Yeah.” You smiled back once he confessed his feelings. “I bet you do, loser.”

Peter laughed at your never ending need to insult him before pulling you into a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. You could feel his gloved hands on the bare skin of your waist and shivered. When you pulled away, you kept your foreheads pressed together.

“I never thought it would be you.” You mumbled as you twirled one of his curls around your finger. “I never thought I’d fall in love with you.”

“It surprised me too.” He chuckled. “I’m glad this happened though. You weren’t just who I wanted to be. You were who I wanted to be with.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” You whispered. “I don’t ever want to get a call at three am telling me I need to come to the hospital. And I don’t want to start bringing three roses to the cemetery instead of two.”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” He assured you as he held your face between his hands. He wiped your tears away with his gloves hands and kissed your nose. “I would never go anywhere where you couldn’t follow”.

“Ew.” You sniffled as you wiped your eyes.

“Why ew?” He chuckled.

“We’re gross.” You said. “We fell in love and now we’re gross.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled. “I like being gross with you.”

“I’m gonna throw up.” You gagged, making you both laugh.

“You’ll be okay.” He told you, and you believed him.

“Okay, now that we got that conversation out of the way, I have a lot of questions about all of this.” You said as you gestured to his suit.

“Ask me anything.” He said. “I’ll answer.”

“What did you wear before this?” You wondered. “I saw Spider-Man sightings on the news before 2016.”

Peter went to his closet and pulled out his original Spider-Man suit, the makeshift hoodie he used to wear.

“This. I made it myself.” He said as he handed it to you.

“No kidding.” You teased as you took it from him. “Did you sew this with your feet?”

“It was the best I could do.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m so lucky he made me a real suit. This one was not very protective.”

“Actually, I kind of like it.” You smiled as you held it up. It had bullet holes and tears everywhere. “It shows where you’ve been. And how far you’ve come.”

“I like your way of looking at it.” He smiled. “It’s yours, if you like it so much. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Why don’t you tell people that its you? This would make you famous. Like, Tony Stark famous.” You said as you put the hoodie on. “Don’t you want that? You know, since you’re such a loser at school.”

“Very funny”. He narrowed his eyes at you. “And no, actually. I’m safer this way. Plus, the bad guys can’t tell if I’m scared with the mask on. And it’s fun to have a secret. It gives me an edge.”

“Wow. I did not think me telling you I wanted to fuck the Winter Soldier would lead to all of this.” You poked fun at the situation.

“Me either but I’m glad it did.” He remarked. “I’m happy that you know. And I’m happy that you love me.”

“Well don’t make a big deal out of it.” You mumbled. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He laughed. “This is exciting. It’s all exciting.”

“We get it.” You teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re an Avenger, I’m in love with you, yada yada. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s the hugest deal.” He insisted. “I want you to meet them. Come meet my team.”

“You want me to meet the Avengers?” You gulped.

“Yeah. I’m supposed to stop by the tower later for a meeting. Why don’t you come with me? This is one of the rare days where everyone is in the tower.”

“Are you sure about this?” You asked him. “What if they don’t like me?”

“They probably won’t.” He said simply. “Since you’re so irritating and everything.”

“Shut up.” You shoved him playfully. “I’m serious. This is way more intimidating than meeting someone’s parents.”

“Don’t be scared. I’ll be holding your hand the entire time.” He said as he kissed your knuckles. “And they’re way less intimidating than they seem. I promise, you’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” You reluctantly agreed. “I’ll meet them. But if I see Bucket, I can’t promise I’ll be able to control my hormones.”

“It’s Bucky.” He corrected. “And I’ll know if you’re getting too, you know, hot and bothered.”

“How would you know?” You asked, and his face flushed.

“Well, one of the powers I got was super smell. I can smell when people are scared or happy or…” He trialed off, too much or a gentleman to say the word.

“Horny?” You asked with a dropped jaw. “You can smell when people are horny?”

“I prefer the term aroused.” He said sheepishly, making you laugh loudly.

“Oh my God. What a pervert.” You teased him.

“It’s not my fault!” He was flustered now. “I didn’t ask for this power.”

“Wait.” You realized. “Can you smell when I’m aroused?”

Peter didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes. Your jaw dropped as you playfully smacked him.

“You pervert!” You painfully scolded. “You could smell that and never told me?”

“It’s my my fault.” He whined. “Not all the time, anyway.”

“So when is it your fault?” You folded your arms and he gulped.

“It’s only my fault when I purposefully wear that one white shirt.” He said quietly. “Whenever I’m wearing it, I can always, you know...”

“Smell me?” You nearly screamed. “You wear that shirt just to get a rise out of me? You little slut.”

“I’m not a slut.” Peter laughed. “I could just smell how much you liked it, so I started wearing it more. And in the name of being honest, I can smell you right now.”

“Oh my God. You whore. You little minx.” You taunted playfully. “Using your body for attention like that. What a dirty little slut.”

“I’m not dirty or a slut.” Peter insisted. “You’re the one who gets worked up over a t shirt.”

“Excuse me?” You let out a shocked laugh. “Don’t turn this around on me, mister. I can’t control how I react to your erotic clothing. Especially when you’re the one who can’t even form a sentence around me when I wear that one red skirt.”

“Erotic?” He shot back. “It’s literally a $5 shirt from Target. It’s shapeless. And that skirt could not be shorter. I can literally see your ovaries in it.”

“You give it shape with your stupid spider muscles.” You said as you pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Oh my God.” He gasped. “You’re thinking about the shirt now, aren’t you?”

“No I’m not.” You said quickly.

“Really?” He cocked his head. “Smells like you are.”

Before you could respond, and you had a lot to say, Peter’s phone buzzed.

“It’s Mr. Stark.” He told you. “He said I should come now.”

“We’re finishing this conversation later.” You said as you grabbed your phone. “You’re still in trouble.”

“Whatever you say.” Peter chuckled as he lead you out the door. You thought you were going to the elevator, but Peter brought you to the staircase.

“I don’t walk there.” He said as he lead you up the stairs. He opened the door to the roof and gestured to the edge. “I swing.”

The next thing you knew, you were swinging towards the Avengers tower in Peter’s arms. You held on tightly to him as you tried not to scream in his ear. He was loving how he finally got to show someone what his life was like while you were fearing for your life. Finally, you landed on the balcony of the tower and Peter set you down.

“So?” He asked excitedly. “Did you have fun?”

“You tell me. Can’t you smell my excitement?” You jeered as you caught your breath. Peter knew you weren’t going to drop that for a long time. He took his mask off and lead you inside, not wanting to tell you that he could smell how scared you were.

Finally, he brought you to the conference room where the rest of the Avengers were. Their causal chatter came to a stop when you walked in together and all eyes were on you.

“Hey everyone.” Peter said shyly. “This is my girlfriend, Y/n. Shes gonna sit in on the meeting today.”

“Y/n?” Nat jumped in immediately. “The one who’s hair you used to stick gum in when you were little?”

“I thought Y/n was the girl who filled your locker with extra small condoms and the filmed you when they all fell out.” Sam chuckled, giving you an impressed smile.

“No, wait.” Bruce cut in. “I thought she was the one who started the rumor that Peter didn’t know how to swim.”

“You’re all wrong.” Steve sighed. “Y/n is the one Peter blamed losing the class pet on. Remember? The little rat escaped and he told the class it was her fault.”

“It was a hamster.” Peter cringed. “And it was my fault. Sorry about that.”

“I love you, but I will never forgive you for that.” You smiled softly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. The team looked at each knowingly at this display of affection.

“Love?” Tony asked as he entered the room. “Are we talking about how much you all love me?”

Tony stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing there. You had forgotten to take off Peter’s original Spider-man hoodie, and it caught Tony off guard. He never thought he’d see that hoodie again, the one that brought him to Peter in the first place. The one he studied and tried to replicate when he made Peter a new suit. The corners of his mouth turned down as he appreciated how much Peter had grown.

“Oh. I see Peter brought a friend.” Tony remarked. “Please, make yourself at home in our top secret facility that no one unauthorized personnel is supposed to enter.”

“Mr. Stark, this is my girlfriend Y/n.” Peter introduced you. You held out your hand for Tony to shake, and he did so without taking his eyes off of you.

“Y/n?” He asked. “The one-“

“Yeah. Probably.” You nodded, making him laugh.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said as he straightened himself out. “You’re welcome to sit in on the meeting. But if you make any noise, you will be taken out by a sniper.”

“He’s kidding.” Peter whispered to you, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Peter took a seat and you sat on his lap, making him fight back a smile. He was now at an Avengers meeting with his former enemy sitting on his lap, wearing his clothes.

“Thank you, sir.” You smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you too. All of you. I appreciate everything you guys have done for the world. You’re all really brave.”

“Your boyfriend is pretty brave too.” Steve commented. “He surprises me everytime we work together.”

“I was surprised too.” You agreed. “I didn’t think the biggest loser I knew was protecting Queens.”

Everyone raised their eyebrows at your subtle jab at Peter and it suddenly made sense why the girl he’d been complaint about all these years had the same name as his girlfriend.

“You let her talk to you like that?” Sam teased.

“She can say whatever she wants.” Peter shrugged. “And she does. Do you know how hard it is to get her to stop talking?”

“Not nearly as hard as it is to get you to clean up after yourself, put the toilet seat down, or show up on time for dates.” You replied with a cheery smile. Peter smiled back and took the loss, not wanting to get into it in front of his team. He turned back to Tony and gave him his full attention as the meeting began. You stayed quiet on Peter’s lap as the team discussed their next mission and who would be covering what territory. You made a small noise when Tony gave Peter his assignment, making everyone look at you.

“Whats the matter?” Peter asked as he bounced you a little on his knee.

“I just didn’t realize you were such an important part of the team.” You said. Peter had a big role that required a lot more responsibility than you thought he was capable of. He didn’t seem worried in the slightest, which told you he was used to this much responsibility. Something about Peter’s ambition and ability to take on Avenger level tasks for very appealing to you.

So appealing, in fact, that Peter noticed.

“Hm.” Peter said and he sniffed the air. You folded your lips in, knowing exactly what he was doing. The rest of the team had no idea what was happening, but you knew Peter was trying to get a rise out of you.

“What’s wrong?” Nat took the bait. You pinched Peter’s leg under the table as he took another loud whiff.

“Nothing.” Peter smirked. “It just smells funny in here.”

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker enemies to lovers #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #marvel #spiderman

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

Text

headspace, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You try so hard, so very hard to not let Jeon Jungkook have the effect he has on you. You have things to do. But you’re always in his arms again, because you can’t stop thinking about him and he knows it.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, fingering, lil bit of spanking, doggy, hair-pulling, cock warming); PWP; softdom!Jungkook

this post, basically + I found a mysterious hickey on my neck and idk where it came from and it stayed there for days at first i wasn’t going to post this, but who knows, maybe you all want to know what happens in my head when JK is out here looking that good. maybe this is what you’re thinking too, lmao

"Ah, Jungkook, w-wait!"

Already all up in your face, pressing you against the wall, grabbing your thighs and sinking his fingers into them, lifting you up, up.

"Wait for what?" was Jeon Jungkook's hot whisper into your neck. "What am I waiting for, after you look at me like that?"

"I... I didn't..."

"You did."

He planted your legs around his waist, forcing you to grab his shoulders so you wouldn't fall, gripping the black linen fabric, his dangling silver earrings brushing against your silver rings, knuckles, and the backs of your hands. He reached up and pushed your head down to make you stare into his dark brown eyes.

"You looked at them all with a smile, but your eyes lingered on me."

Fuck, his eyes were so pretty.

The fucking shape, so fucking sexy with the way the upper lid curved downward a little in the inner corner, fanning out to that roundness, then his lashes flaring upwards at the end. Paired with that intense gaze and it was a deadly combination.

"Lie to my face. Try it."

His voice was deep but gentle, pinning you between the wall and himself, hardness surrounding your softness. You gazed straight into those dangerous eyes.

"You're going to keep trying, aren't you?"

His pink lips curved into a smirk. "Yes."

His hands went back down, sliding under your red velvet skirt, squeezing your bare thighs. Drumming upwards slowly, sinking his fingers into your ass.

"I told you to stop annoying me."

He kneaded your ass slowly. "You did. And yet I still have the key. You haven't changed the locks to keep me out," he purred, leaning in, pressing his hard chest on yours. Even through the cropped white sweatshirt and his black linen shirt you could feel him, feel his strength and his power over you. "Shall I just stay here from now on? Since you so obviously want me here."

"J-Jungkook..."

Eyes on yours, eyebrow cocked.

"Go ahead and say it. Tell me to get out. Tell me you don't want me," he breathed onto your chin, nails digging into your ass. "Tell me your lies."

"Shut up."

You tilted your head and pressed your lips to his, one hand sliding up to hold his head in place as you kissed him hard, his smirk into your kiss. For such a taunting mouth, he had a lovely kiss, capturing your lips gently, tongue flitting between them. You were sliding down the wall and Jungkook shoved you back up, stepping closer to the wall to sandwich you harder into it, breaking the kiss.

"I have things to do..." you murmured, pushing his long hair back and tucking it behind his ear. Jungkook continued smirking at you, amused by your verbal monologue. "I'm busy, I'm tired, there are people waiting on me..." His dark eyes sparkled with danger. "And you always make me want you instead."

One of his eyebrows quirked. "What a terrible predicament."

You narrowed your eyes. "You're so troublesome."

He smiled, and despite your frustrations, it was a genuine one. It was hard to stay mad at Jungkook.

"I know."

He kissed you this time, making you tingle all over, moaning softly as his tongue played with yours. With a chuckle, he picked you up and leaned you against him, forcing you to clamp your thighs around his waist and your arms to wrap around his neck as he carried you, far too easily for your liking. Jungkook was a strong man. In too many ways, honestly.

"We can just play for a little while," Jungkook purred. "You love playing with me, don't you?"

"Too much, I think..."

He turned and sat on the bed, adjusting your knees to be on either side of him, kissing down your neck, fingertips sliding under your panties.

"Someone is going to think I'm obsessed with you," you puffed, slight irritation in your tone as he pulled up, shoving your panties in between your ass.

"You aren't?" he teased.

"You want me to be," you retorted. Jungkook was squeezing your ass, spreading it out, digging his fingers into it.

"Yes, I do." He licked up your neck and you shivered. His lips kept going up, chaste kisses compared to the manhandling of your ass. Your hair fluffed as he breathed into your ear. "Want this pretty head to be full of thoughts of me." His deft fingers slipped under, stroking the slick wetness. "We always have such fun when you give in to me, don't we?"

Fuck, why did he have to have such a beautiful voice, so rich and so much depth, taking you away to his world?

"And you always, always give in to me."

Two fingers into your pussy, sinking into wet warmth, your eyelids fluttering, arms wrapping around his head, fingers tangling in his black locks, gasping as he thrust them in and out of you, whispering your name hotly in your ear, licking it lightly every time he buried himself all the way to his knuckles.

"P-Please, Jungkook... let me breathe a l-little..."

His head dipped down and you buried your nose into his hair, smelling the sweet scent of product he used, dark stands curled around your fingers and silver rings, pleasure swirling up from your core. He was so good. So fucking good and he probably didn't even know exactly how good he was.

"Just breathe me," Jungkook said to your neck, nipping at the space between your collarbones, leaving small red marks. "I'll be your oxygen. I'll be anything you want, everything you want, make you love me more and more until there's no one else but me."

And then his teeth sank down, biting your neck possessively, to the right and above your collarbone, your head falling back to give him more space, increasing his pace in your pussy so that the wet smacking sounds became louder to match your cries. Deep, hard, rough, just the way you liked it, and one glance down found Jungkook's dark eyes boring into you, chocolatey and heavenly, stubbornly telling you that he wasn't going to give up.

"Jungkook," you hissed. "You're making me crazy."

His pink tongue licked against his bite as he grinned.

You sucked in a breath and pushed his face into your chest, biting your lip to muffle your whine as you came, muscles tensing around his fingers, massaging them roughly as your juices soaked down. Did your skin run hot due to embarrassment or was it just the layers of clothes? Either way, you felt him chuckle as he pulled his fingers out, your panties snapping against your drenched slit uncomfortably. His other hand cupped around your head, tilting it to the side. Your cheek rested on his hair. His glistening fingers in your view, spreading out with strings of your juices in between his joints.

Yup, it was embarrassment.

Jungkook put his fingers in his mouth and you didn't look, cheeks burning hot. He nuzzled your neck, lapping at his mark on you.

"Hm. People are going to see that one," he purred. "That's good."

"People at work are going to think I'm unprofessional," you mumbled.

"Take off your clothes then. I'll mark you in other places."

I'm already marked all over by you, you thought to yourself. You twirled your fingers around the black strip of fabric around his neck, undoing the tie and slipping it down, watching the scarf trail around the curve, a shape you stared at far too much and his mischievous smirk wasn't helping.

"You going to use this on me?" Without knowing it, your voice had become smokey and hazy, matching his playfulness. "Is that why you wore it?"

His large hand closed around yours, finger by finger, still a little damp from his mouth and your juices. Smirking with that flirtatious spark in his eye, maybe innocent at one point but certainly not now because he invaded your head and did it on purpose, caressing your knuckles as he spoke.

"You know I can be anything for you," Jungkook drawled, eyebrow arching gracefully. "In this space, I'm all yours." He pulled the tie out of your fingers slowly, centimeter by centimeter of black linen slipping from your fingers, followed by your sanity with his silvery voice. "If it's what you want, I'll do it."

Every time.

Every fucking time.

And how could you be mad at those eyes, those lips, that face, inviting you to worship him and love him?

You swore there was a time before Jeon Jungkook, but now you couldn't remember and he wasn't letting you remember, pulling you to the center of the bed, taking off your white sweatshirt, yanking down your red velvet skirt, letting you tug at the buttons of his black shirt, pushing it down his shoulders, kissing the exposed skin, his taste flooding your mouth. His hands on your back, digging his nails in, raking down, pleased by the way you shuddered against him, unhooking your bra as you unzipped his slacks. It just wasn't fair, not fair at all how handsome and cute Jungkook was, how hard his muscle was and how soft his touch was, the way he balanced his fingertips on your chin and tipped it up, kissing you again, your name in his lips, melting your ice with his fire, gasping softly as your fingers skimmed his ass and thighs, drawing patterns in his skin.

"I love your kisses," he panted. "They're a perfect combination. Erotic and needy and demanding."

Closer, his hands sliding down, the lightest pressure, guiding you down onto the pillows, the scarf still wrapped around his right hand.

"And the sounds you make." Dropping his head, kissing the curve of your breasts, nudging your silver necklaces away, biting at times, making you moan and bury your fingers in that soft hair once more, black against your silver rings. "Want you to make them over and over again for me, only me..."

His lips around your nipple, tongue so soft but sucking so hard, your back arcing and his eyes on his bites, knowing they'd be there for a while, and yet you could tell he still wanted to do more, wanted his permanent mark on you.

"Jungkook..."

His piercing gaze on you as he detached his lips, switching sides, listening but not stopping. Wrapping his tongue around the hardened nub, sending shocks of pleasure through your nerves, long hair messy and tangled from your fingers. You chewed on your lip, curling your fingers into his scalp, not trying to hurt him but unable to contain the apprehension within you. His lips parted seeing your expression, brushing against your nipple as he spoke.

"Don't look so guilty."

Hands on your hips, pulling you down to his face, the scent of your own nipples heavy in his breath as he laid kisses on your cheeks.

"I don't look this nice just for me, you know. You have to appreciate me."

Imprinting his touch all over you, nails scratching up your skin, fingerprints from his grip, nipping at your swollen lips.

"I'll help you feel good. I promise."

All I can think about is you. You're the worst, Jungkook.

You took the black scarf from him, unwrapping it from his hand. Backed up, feeling his eyes on you, nearly black with lust, watching you collect your hair back and twist the strip around and around, his smirk growing with every second as you tied it off.

"Convenient."

Jungkook knew what you wanted, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you around, making you scramble and gasp at his forcefulness, your silver necklaces hitting you in the chest. On hands and knees now, your favorite, his hand splayed across your back and pressing your shoulder blades down, other hand clutching your panties and yanking, moaning as he watched your juices drip down, snapping against your thighs.

"That's a pretty pussy," he breathed, leaning in. You whimpered as his fingers slid in once again, three this time, fuck, almost too many, stretching you out. You clenched around them, making Jungkook moan. "Mmm, fuck yes, so fucking tight, my cock is going to feel so good inside you…"

He found what he was looking for and nudged your hand with it, the sharp edges of the foil pocket tapping against your rings.

"Reach back for me. Get me hard for you."

"But I haven’t taken off my–"

"Shh, I still have my underwear on, go ahead."

You bit your lip and extended your hand back awkwardly, careful with your rings, palming his semi-hard cock through his boxer briefs as he shoved his fingers into you repeatedly, straightening his back to watch.

"Yes, that's it," Jungkook groaned, putting more force into it, earning the moans he was waiting for, your muscles tensing around his fingers, obscene, sloppy smacks of your viscous juices tainting the room. "Love watching your ass bounce, so fucking sexy..."

He liked watching you struggle too, hand grasping his cock and rubbing the wet spot around the head, jerked around by his fingers, mouth open and unable to catch your breath, his name a dry rasp between curses.

"Jungkook, a-ah... please..."

So hard, throbbing under your fingertips, straining for release.

"Want it... please... w-want your cock to ruin me..."

You heard him chuckle, sliding his fingers out and striking your clit. You yelped sharply, turning into breathless cries as he rubbed your clit with his slick fingers, calluses adding to the friction.

"How can I say no to that?" he drawled. "You want to make me feel good too, hm?"

"Y-Yes, ah, fuck, Jungkook, please..."

You dropped your hand, clutching the sheets, screaming into them, pleasure overtaking you with a sharp throb, hips shaking with effort as your orgasm crashed down, rolling your hips into his touch. Dragged out, eyes rolling back, moan trickling from your lips as he pressed his fingers into your engorged clit, feeling it pulse violently as you rode your high.

"So fucking hot," he breathed. "You want me that bad?"

There was no point in lying now.

"Fuck, yes I do, fuck."

Jungkook snickered, flicking his fingers against your sensitive opening before removing it. You flinched, hearing the sound of the condom being torn open. Your name fell from his lips, teasing, warm, too much familiarity.

"What?"

One hand on your hip, the other smacking your ass. You sucked in a breath, bracing yourself.

"You have a pretty back."

"Oh… Thanks?"

And then a high-pitched moan tore through you as he suddenly filled you up with one quick thrust, tensing every muscle in your body, Jungkook groaning with effort, knowing you would tell him to stop if it was too much, but you weren’t telling him because, even if you were tight, you were also so wet that he entered with minimal effort. It was easy for him, slipping in all the way to the base, his crotch slapping into your ass. Too easy. Fuck, you liked him too fucking much.

“Such a tiny little pussy,” he purred, squeezing your flesh, inhaling sharply as you fitted around him. “You need a cock to stretch you out, don’t you?”

You wiggled your ass into his hips. “Jungkook…”

“Hand, please.”

You whimpered and presented your right hand. His fingers curled around your forearm, gripping tight.

“Hold on now.”

His left hand dug into your hip as he began to fuck you, hard, satisfying, penetrating thrusts of pure power that made you cry out, slamming your left hand into the headboard, pushing back to hold yourself in place and prevent your body from sliding up because he was fucking you so hard, and it was so good, so perfect, your wetness squelching around him, the feeling of suddenly being almost empty then full, empty then full, power and pleasure. Why did he feel so good? Why did it feel so good, uncontrollable moans and pants of his name as he took you from behind?

“You’re holding me so well, fuck, so nice and tight for me,” Jungkook hissed, hand leaving your hip and you knew what was coming, your hips moving of their own accord, meeting his rough thrusts as his left hand grasped your ponytail, wrapping it around his palm, tugging slightly, forcing your head to lift, your silver necklaces jangling against your breasts, whimpering almost pathetically, but it was so good, so good, the little jolts of pain and his cock pounding you and you meeting him, core tightening at his insistent gentle yanks.

“Fuck, so sexy,” he muttered. “Such soft hair, pretty wrists, plump ass fucking me back, aren’t you just the perfect little plaything for me?” His words seeping into you, smokey and hazy with lust, the depth taking you under, drowning in your orgasm as the pleasure rocked through you, and he didn’t stop, simply fucking you through it with a hiss, your name an immoral drawl, paired with the lewd squelching of how fucking wet you were for Jeon Jungkook. “How can I go anywhere else when this pussy needs me so bad, hm? When you demand to be fucked and wrecked by this cock?”

“Jungkook, ah, fuck!”

“That’s it, keep cumming for me, cum all over my cock, fuck, feels so fucking good when you clench like that.”

You were going to lose your fucking mind, with his hand on your hair and his other dropping your forearm, grabbing your hip once again so he could fuck you harder, deeper, the bed shaking with the force. You tried to bury your face into the pillows, but couldn’t because of his grip on your hair, so you just wailed out his name, probably far too loud, tightening all around his entire length, oh fuck, tipping over the edge once more, so wet you could feel it trickling down your clit and thighs, the violent smacking of flesh to flesh causing thick drops to hit your sheets.

Everything smelled like sex. Everything was sex.

And there was nothing in your head but Jeon Jungkook’s cock ruining you.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck me, you’re so fucking good!”

You heard Jungkook moan your name, ramming his hips into you one last time as he came, cock jerking as he filled the condom with strings of cum. His grip on your ponytail tensed and he yanked your head up, forcing you to arch your back and rut your ass into him, elongating the pleasure.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

“Shh…”

Your hands poised under you, your necklaces stuck to your chest, trapped in the uncomfortable position, squeezing him periodically. He groaned at the sensation, pressed against your ass.

“Feels so fucking good,” he murmured. “You still gonna act like you don’t want me?”

Your cheeks flared with heat. He released your hair and reached around, cupping your chin, pushing you to him as he met you halfway, his lips against your ear. You could feel the warmth radiating off his face, beads of sweat brushing against your ear and neck. Breath so hot it was making your pulse race. He was slipping out a little, but your pussy tightened around him. He snickered right into your ear. You shivered, a low moan leaving your throat.

“… Don’t…”

His tongue slid out and traced your earlobe. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t… do this to me…”

Lips right on your hot, hot skin, on fire for Jeon Jungkook, his whisper always in your thoughts.

“Have to. You still want me, don’t you?”

Fuck.

“… Yeah.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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polyjuicedpadfoot · 2 years

Note

I’ll adress your stupid rant since you want to be involved in the “drama” so bad (i actually never seen your profile in my life so you’re pretty much insignificant among the common bullies). They’re not simply being friends and hanging out in tumblr, I worded it like that because they all cheer each other up to be the nastiest assholes possible. If you think you or them are “””educating””” people for their “””homophobic””” comments and not backlashing at every opportunity and every turn, you’re literally blind. Or supportive of that disgusting behaviour. You’re not trying to teach anyone anything, you are literally being hateful and mocking that person. You laugh about her every chance you can. Second, I can apologize for the misgendering, I’m not above making mistakes, I haven’t seen Ollie profile in months. Lastly, the jealousy you have is so so painfully obvious that makes you all look so dumb, you’re constantly stalking her and twisting her words, scratching for a crumb of attention from others. You all take actual satisfaction in bringing her and others down at least once a week, and you willingly spread the toxicity you complain and rant about. But everything comes back to you at the end of the day, the hate that you guys spread comes back and that’s why bad things happen, you all got a taste of your own medicine the past few weeks, isn’t it awful when people twist your words? when they spread lies? when they laugh at your expense? when they accuse you of shit you didn’t do/mean? isn’t it sad when you see others tear apart someone you love? anyways. hope you all have a horrible year, you really deserve each other.

Oh hello there Anon. Welcome to my page, since you've now decided 'hey let's go visit her page why don't we'. Since you've never been here before, shall we go over a few things?

Being 'involved in the drama' is not something I'm itching to do. In fact, I'd rather there wasn't any drama in the first place to get involved in, but alas I cannot control everybody on the internet. If that were an option, well, then I wouldn't even have to be answering this lovely ask you've dropped into my box.

I will say this since you're new here, perhaps give my page a little scroll. Or don't, but let me point out a few things for you anyway.

An hour or two ago, I received an Anon ask about said drama you may be a little hung up on. The way the Anon asked me said question was not hateful, no they asked me like an adult. And I chose to answer the anon, educating them and using the same type of tone they asked me the question with. It was a mature interaction on the website, because yes, those exist.

I take no satisfaction with taking authors down, I am an empathetic person. In fact, I don't take authors down thank you. What I do, is defend my friends when others decide to attack full force with curses and false accusations for no reason.

Now I see in this ask, you apologize for misgendering Ollie. I thank you for that. You took something that was said, and then you apologized and corrected yourself. This is what we look for on the internet. I would have informed you more politely of this mistake, had you not called my friend, or friends, cunts. I'm pointing this out because you've done something that the author in question did not do. See how simple it was? Perhaps now you can see why the rest of us are so peeved about something that could've been so simple?

Now there are many, many names and things you've called me and my friends in this ask I'm not going to address, simply because I deal with teenagers every damn day, so I can't say I'm all that offended by your words. But I will ask if you feel better about yourself today after sending this ask. Because I'm fine with my actions, I was defending a friend who you called many, many nasty things. But you, you've just gone ask box to ask box using harsh language to get no point across.

#em answers #anon asks

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Scandal Ch. 5 - Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki returns to claim what is his - willing to kill everyone in his way.

Warnings: Angst.

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

Taglist: @catlover092402152, @hi-there-x, @haloangel391, @misssilencewritewell, @babayaga67, @accioremuslupinn, @mochimommy2002, @just-someone-who-likes-to-write, @damalseer, @bethanystan, @loser-alert, @star017, @nina1800, @queenariesofnarnia, @n1fangirlsblog, @vengefulsokovian, @lunamoonbby, @freyagallileaevans, @emmojoy, @literate-lamb, @aninnai, @justsomerandompersonintheworld

A/N: Sweet little Feedback Anon, I took your suggestion. You know which one I mean if you see it. (:

Btw guys I have like 60+ Drafts I need to finish so pls be patient with me.

Word sure spreads fast among the folk of Asgard, about Odin’s shame and your innocence.

Since his lies had weakened the favor among his subjects, the Allfather was desperate to clean his name and reputation, ultimatively inviting you to come back.

But you declined, stating that this wasn’t your homeland anymore ever since they betrayed you to fullfill their selfish ambitions.

However, Asgard’s hypocrisy wasn’t the only reason you chose to stay on Midgard - you just knew that it would break your heart every day you’d spend on a place with so many memories connected to your deceased husband.

Earthlings, the people of S.H.I.E.L.D and especially Thor’s friends Jane and Erik Selvic had basically become like family to you. Even though they could never fill the void Loki had left in your heart, things being like this was more than you could wish for.

“Lady Y/N!” a familiar voice greeted you, yet his worried tone startled you. Thor was already standing in your room, practically kicking in your door as he was visibly upset.

Immediately, you put Liam into his crib and rushed to his side. “What’s the matter?!”

A strange mix of horror and excitement was stretched across his face, making your heart sink to your stomach.

Actually, you didn’t want to involve yourself with the Asgardians any further. All you ever wanted was for your child to be healthy and happy, no matter where this was possible.

But Thor was still your cherished brother-in-law, as well as a wonderful uncle, never ceasing to provide for you and Liam, even when everyone else had forsaken you.

Yet what he was about to tell you let your blood run cold:

“Loki is back.”

Immediately, all the walls you had built up over those past months were crumbling as you collapsed to the floor, crying out of anger and relief.

“H-How? How is this even possible?! He’s dead! Loki died!”

“Pull yourself together, Lady Y/N!” Thor has always been a rather touchy-feely kind of person, in opposite to his raw and bulky appearance.

But right now, he wouldn’t dare to hug or console you, like he’d usually do. Instead, he was offering you a hand to help you get back up - which you wouldn’t be able to take just yet. “There’s no use in overthinking this! We need to hurry!”

“What do you even want me to do?” you wondered, because if your husband was really alive, you’d doubt him wanting to see you. “He’s changed...killed a lot of people before he disappeared. And still, I don’t wanna fight him. How can I be of any help at all?!?”

“We know he’s probably after you and the child” the God of Thunder stated coldly. “So you need to be transferred to a safe location.”

What can be more safe than a base of S.H.I.E.L.D? If only you knew he had already demolished a whole, giant outpost of them with ease...

“I’ll explain everything to you on the way.” “Let me quickly get the baby.”

“What, did you forget the name of your nephew already?” you chuckled awkwardly, but seeming to have struck a nerve.

Thor was only slowly approaching the crib in which your lovely baby was resting, staring at it with awe while his trembling hand caressed Liam’s cheek.

“Incredible...” he whispered mainly to himself, as if this wasn’t the thousandth time he would lay eyes upon him. “He’s just like I remember him.”

Something was off.

Of course Thor had a spare key to your flat, but you had never heared him unlock it - he had just kind of appeared in the middle of the room. Could as well be that you had been to invested with something, or buried in thought to notice him, and yet...

“Wait” you stated, making him flinch away from the child and turn around. “My knees are still weak. Help me up first.”

With heavy steps, Thor would force himself away from the crib and towards you again, lending you another hand and easily pulling you up - just for you to point a sharp dagger to his throat.

“Lady Y/N, when did you summo-”

“Shut up!” you hissed, and the god held his hands into the air to assure his goodwill. "Drop the disguse. Now!”

The man let out an amused huff, a taint of green covering his body to revert it back to normal - revealing your husband.

His hair had become longer, and dark rings showed how devastating those past months went by for him. Yet still, he was unmistakingly your husband.

Yet a faint, mad spark in his eyes was what worried you the most.

Now he was holding a knife as well, both circling around the crib with a knife at each other’s throat, as if to dance with each other.

“So it’s really you, Loki?”

“The one and only” he declared, chest swelling with pride at his performance and completely ignoring your hostile undertone. “I missed you painfully, my sweetling.”

He looked to the side where your son was still sleeping soundly, regret clearly visible on his face. “Wha- what name did you give our child?”

“Liam it is.”

The smallest of smiles tugged on his lips, swallowing harshly to surpress the sobs wanting to break free. “Beautiful name. Very well chosen.”

Pain was stretching across your features, desperately trying for the dam of emotions to not break. The dagger in your hand vanished, rather choosing to reluctantly caress his cheek - to make sure this was really him, and not one of his illusions.

And it was really him, leaning into your touch with a content purr. “Yes, my love, just like tha-”

A loud noise drang to his ear, effectively cutting him off. He needed a second to understand that it was in fact you slapping him what caused the interruption.

“Dear, wait, I-” Another hit, this time it was your knee digging into his groin, making him gasp in pain.

With his current power, it would be a piece of cake to block you - yet he knew that after everything that had happened to you, and everything he had done...

...it was what he deserved. So he would allow you to let off some steam.

Yet much to his surprise, you were done already - now grabbing desperately on his cloak and pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

He immediately reciprocated, dropping his weapon as well to embrace you fully, lips mingling with each other over and over again.

Oh, how long had both of you craved for each other?

“Sorry” you panted as your lips finally parted, “Just needed to get that off my chest.”

“Do not apologize, my love” Loki declared, chin resting atop of your head, still no intention to let go off of you. “I deserve far worse than that.”

You looked up to him, the kiss having made something surface in his eyes: So solemn, and incredibly fragile, it made your heart ache.

“Wha- what happened to you? Where have you been all this time?”

Loki’s face contorted at the question, as if the thoughts in his mind were physically painful. But his mind was clouded, unable to make his proper memory resurfacing. “Places far beyond your imagination, dear. And I have learned many things.”

“I-I thought I had lost you...” you ultimatively began to sob, face dug into his chest.

“No” the god whispered softly, his gaze still unwavering. “You always have me. I promise.”

“What now?” you sniveled as he gently pet your head, just as back in good old times. “Where do we go?”

“What do you mean?” Loki’s features creased into a slight frown, “We stay here. There’s no need to leave or flee.”

“Bu-” you hesistantly took a few steps back, to take in his full reaction. “But you’re a wanted criminal, Loki! On Asgard as well as Midgard!”

His manner became more defensive again, glee radiating off of him. “Oh, my sweet, innocent Y/N...still the idealist, I see.”

“And you are still insufferable” you scoffed back, crossing your arms. “What do you mean?”

Actually, you dreaded the answer.

The man seemed to be thinking about many things at once, eyes narrowing before he finally took a hold of your hand, squeezing it ever so slightly when he saw that you were still wearing his ring - even after everything that had happened.

“Y/N, my love, those deaths were a necessary evil.” He tried to peck a quick kiss on your hand, but you pulled away at those words. “The only crime I feel guilty for is having left the love of my life. But don’t you worry, I’ll make up for it.”

He summoned a staff, glowing in the same blue as the tesseract - and much to your terror, his eyes started to adapt to them as well.

“I will create my own kingdom, Y/N! Here on Midgard, with you as my queen! This is what you deserve, my love! You and our child will have everything you desire and more!”

“This is madness, Loki!” It wasn’t the first time he had heared that.

People always treated him wrongly, afterwards wondering why he was trying to create felicity on his own. “Is it?” he croaked, “Is it madness for a person born to rule two kingdoms to create a home he never had?”

His plan did not merit awe or any such feelings he hoped you to have - the only person in the world he thought would understand him.

“Loki, what your parents have done to you is inexcusable, yet-”

“They’re not my parents!” he screamed enraged, eyes then widened in shock that he had raised his voice at you. “My apologies, I...”

“They have kept the truth from you so that you’d never feel different. You know you’re their son, and the Asgardians are your family. You must know that!”

“You speak like mother” he spat, and still Frigga’s words he could not shake off as easily as Odin’s. “There is no going back to that place, and Jotunheim I never had a connection with. You most likely heared that I tried to kill Laufey, yes?”

Nodding in silence, you nervously bit your lip. “Please...” Wrapping your arms around him and placing one ear at his sternum, you could clearly hear how his heart was fighting a war, struggling to decide.

“You can still stop whatever you were gonna do. We can start anew somewhere, lead a peaceful life with Liam. I don’t need wealth or power, and you clearly know any of this wouldn’t give you the satisfaction you’re searching for!”

“As always, you’re right” he grumbled deeply, already regretting what he was about to do. “But it’s not that easy, my naive little dove.”

“No~” With his hand on the back of your neck, he infused a powerful magic inside your body, slowly shutting down your nervous system completely. As careful as possible, he cradled you in his arms and slowly led you to the floor, then proceeding to take his heir.

“The only thing I need for myself is our little family - and I will avenge you by murdering anyone that did you wrong, or tries to separate us again.”

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki x Y/N #Loki Laufeyson #Loki / Reader #Loki / You #Marvel #Disney #God of Mischief #Writing #Self Insert #Fanfiction

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ratmonky · 4 years

Text

Blockbuster

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: dub-con, obsession

AO3 Link

“This week’s movie is…” you paused for the dramatic effect and met each one of your club members’ eyes before pulling out the DVD case from your bag. “Sweet Blossoms!”

Everyone groaned.

“Hey!” you laughed, putting the movie down on the desk. A gorgeous smile tugged at your lips. “It’s my turn so I get to choose!”

“You always choose the worst ones,” your classmate mumbled. “I’m sick of watching romantic comedies. Besides, this is one of the last times we’ll watch a movie in our club.”

Yeah, the graduation was close.

You pouted, giving one person, in particular, the puppy eyes. “Junpei,” you said. “Tell them something, you’re the president.”

Junpei chuckled nervously when you put him on the spot like that. “Haha, I… We made a promise to let one of us choose a movie each week, we should keep our promise.”

“I’m not watching that,” the other club member said. “We’re here to watch movies we appreciate, not whatever dumpster trash you like.”

Although the other two members were being mean, they were right.

“Guys,” Junpei was unsure to say something. He could see how your smile vanished, your shoulders slackened as you flipped the DVD to its back so you wouldn’t need to see the cover title. “It’s her turn to choose.”

“Nevermind,” you uttered, putting the DVD back in your bag. “They’re right. I was being selfish. You can skip my turn.”

“But-”

“Great! I rented Pulp Fiction yesterday and brought it with me.” Your classmate dove his hand inside his bag to fish out the DVD.

Junpei noticed the way your lower lip trembled and you pressing your lips together to hide it. When your gaze met him, you forced a smile on your face, mouthing that it was alright.

You were just like him.

He got up from his seat to sit next to you as your classmate put the movie in the DVD player. It was nothing unusual, most of you sat together to make small comments during a movie.

You pushed your stuff on the desk to the side so he could have some space to put his bag.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the movie had already started.

“There’s no reason for you to apologize,” you softly stated, leaning closer to keep your voice down and not disturb the movie. “It was my fault.”

“Still, we gather here to watch movies our members enjoyed. We’re not actual film critics or anything.” He was trying not to lower his gaze to your chest. One of the buttons had come undone on your shirt, he could see your bra. “Next week is my turn, I can rent the movie you wanted to watch so we can watch it. They won’t complain then.”

Your eyes widened and he could swear that he saw them sparkle. A second later, you dropped your gaze to your lap to fidget with your fingers. “Nevermind, it’ll cause trouble. It’s passive-aggressive and I don’t wanna cause trouble for anyone. Nobody wanna watch the movie I chose anyway.”

“I do,” he whispered, cheeks flushing. While you weren’t looking he had gotten a chance to peek inside your shirt.

Lifting your head, you looked up at him with the prettiest and the most genuine smile he had ever seen. “Really?”

He nodded in affirmation, “We can watch it together after school if y-you wanna.”

“Shh!” The oldest club member turned and pointed two fingers at you and then to his eyes. “No flirting in the losers club.”

Both of you got quiet and it took you a long moment before leaning closer to tell Junpei something.

“So, where will we watch the movie?”

That was how he ended up bringing you to his place. You awkwardly sat on his bed and he tried to stop his shaking hands.

“I wish I had a television in my room too,” you said, starting a conversation to ease the mood. “You’re so lucky, Jun!”

Calling him nicknames like that… you were trying to make him delirious. “I-it’s nothing, it’s some old thing I got from second hand.”

“Still!”

He heard a rustling sound. Once he was done with putting the movie in the DVD player, he whipped his head around to check what you were doing.

His breathing almost stopped when he saw you laying on his bed and checking your phone. You were moving your legs up on the air as you scrolled down some social media platform. Your skirt wasn’t long enough to cover the supple flesh of your thighs, they were squished together and because you were laying on your chest, the skirt’s fabric was relaxed on your ass, leaving not much to the imagination.

Junpei gulped audibly and averted his gaze. “The movie.” That was all he managed to say.

You hummed and sat up on his bed as he took a place next to you. He couldn’t understand why you were so careless, didn’t you think of him as a man?

No, you were purely naive. Not at all aware of the real dangers of the world. Not at all aware of what kind of thoughts about you went through his mind every single day.

The movie opened with the female lead who from her first appearance stated that she was the manic pixie dream girl getting some flowers from a secret admirer despite having a boyfriend.

It was simply trash. That was the only way he could describe the storyline or the mood of the movie. On his own, under any condition, Junpei wouldn’t pick this garbage up and sit through it but since you wanted to watch it… he had to endure it.

You, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the movie. Hands on your lap, gasping every now and then when the male lead encouraged the female lead to dump her boyfriend with his shitty compliments.

He found it kind of amusing to watch you react to the movie rather than watch it himself. Soon enough his gaze dropped to your lap. Under the skirt were your bare legs and you were sitting on his bed. Your ass was placed on his bed. The thought of your panties touching the sheets of his bed made his thoughts go south. If you got wet right now, you could soak his sheets.

Slowly, you shifted on his bed, getting in a more comfortable position to watch the movie. Unbeknownst to you, he had a better view of your cleavage now, it was only natural that he couldn’t look away. As vulnerable you were, he was still a man and like any other man, Junpei couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing.

What color panties were you wearing? If he lifted your skirt up to check, would you be surprised? You wouldn’t push him away, that was for sure. You came here all on your own after all, laying on his bed like that and looking like this… There was no doubt you were basically inviting him to fuck you.

The credits rolled sooner than he would have wanted.

You stretched your arms over your head and let out a soft groan. “Thank you, Jun.”

“For what?” He got up from his bed to take the DVD out from the player.

“For watching this with me. I’m so lucky to have a friend like you!” A friend, huh? He thought of you more than a friend but you were probably playing hard to get. The two of you were the same, you just had to be embarrassed to admit your feelings for him. Yeah, that had to be it.

“I liked the movie.” Liar. He didn’t watch it.

Silence.

“I should get going,” you sighed, retrieving your bag and jacket from the floor.

By the time you stood up, Junpei was holding the DVD case towards you. “I hope you had fun.”

“I did.” You smiled, taking it from him. “Thank you again.”

Junpei was languidly nodding, lost in his own thoughts.

As soon as you left his room and apartment, Junpei hurried back to his room. Getting on his knees, he pressed his face into the exact spot you sat on for two full hours. He took a deep inhale, filling his lungs to their limit.

So this was your scent.

Unbuckling his belt, he kept inhaling the smell of your pussy absorbed on his sheets. He was already impossibly hard, if it weren’t for the way he was slouching when you were beside him, you would definitely notice.

His hand wrapped around his cock and he stroked it from the base to the tip, using your smell and his own fantasies about you as his material for today.

Oh, how he wished he could smell you directly.

~~~

The next day, he couldn’t look you in the eye during the club meeting to talk about the movie everyone watched yesterday.

While you were debating with the two other members about how although the cinematography and the dialogue were great you didn’t enjoy the excessive amount of cursing.

“You just don’t understand cinema,” one of them grumbled.

“Couldn’t agree more, I mean… Do you even watch anything other than your weird romance movies?” The other one grinned.

“Let’s not take it too far,” Junpei mumbled, his words went unheard.

“I didn’t say anything bad about the movie,” you argued. “It was well written but the dialogue was too vulgar for my taste.”

“And since when do you have taste?”

Laughter.

“Yeah, she’s such a scatterbrained normie.”

“Guys.” Junpei stood up on his seat to stop the hassle.

“At least I’m not a pathetic loser.” It slipped. As if you had been wanting to say it out loud for so long. “You know that this is why nobody likes any of you, right?”

It became silent.

Junpei sat back on his chair and the other two who had been grinning from ear to ear as they were teasing you frowned.

You clapped a hand over your mouth, realizing what you had said but the deed was done.

“Sorry.” Mumbling, you gathered your stuff and left the clubroom.

~~~

Getting bullied wasn’t the worst part. It was the way other people treated him because he was getting bullied.

People looked at him with pity, sometimes talked to him because they wanted to include him. They were all doing these things to feel better about themselves. It was never about him.

He could let the cigarette burns, all the times he got beaten and the countless lies others spread about him slip but not the fake kindness.

He hated the fakes.

~~~

It was two days after the incident when you finally decided to approach Junpei before he exited the school garden.

“Hey, Jun.”

A shiver rose up his spine and he stopped walking momentarily. “(name), good to see you.” He turned around to face you but you were looking down onto the pavement. You didn’t want to look him in the face.

“Yeah...” You took a deep breath to calm your senses before speaking. “I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I didn’t mean any of the things I said.”

He said nothing.

“I’m really sorry about it, I was being bitter because of the way they talked to me but I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”

He proceeded to stay quiet, though you had a lot to say to him, it was impossible to find the courage or the words to speak when he was being like this. However, you came prepared for anything.

Reaching inside your bag, you pulled out a DVD case with a movie title Junpei had been looking forward to watching. You had heard him talk about it nonstop for months until it got released recently. He couldn’t get his hands on the DVD itself because of how the movie was always rented out but now, you were holding it.

“Wanna watch it together? My treat.”

How could he possibly say no?

“Okay.”

Your nerves eased when he put on a smile.

Thankfully, the walk to his place was short. In his room, you took off your jacket and grabbed the DVD case to put it on yourself. “I tipped the cashier a couple of extra bucks to get my hands on this,” you giggled and turned on his television with the remote control, the player lit up instantly.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Well, it’s just my way of apologizing, don’t sweat it!” Pressing the button for the disc slot, you opened the case to grab the CD. “Besides, I wanted to watch this for a long time too.”

He could tell you were lying but he wasn’t sure if you were trying to be nice to him out of pity or not. Gradually, he realized he couldn’t put you in a box. You two were alike. Exactly like him, you didn’t know where you fit in but he started to get an idea about where might fit in just fine.

As you were standing with the remote control in your hands and waiting for the movie title to show up on the screen, a set of hands were placed on your hips, making you flinch.

“Jun?”

Junpei couldn’t help but press himself against you, his hands on your hips moved to your stomach, and grabbed the remote control out of your grasp. He threw the device to the side.

“Jun?” you tried calling him again, not realizing he needed a hug this badly. “Are-are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, you felt him bury his face into your hair and heard him take a sniff. His hands moved in different ways. One slid up to cup your breast over your shirt and the other slid down your stomach.

“Um, if you wanna hug me, I can face you. This position is… weird....” You merely comprehended that he wasn’t hugging you when his hand soothed the fabric of your skirt and went under it to grab you by your pussy.

Your thighs pressed together at the same time a surprised gasp left your lips. His hand was pushing you towards him as he was pressing against you, urging you to feel everything.

“Wait,” you tried to say, but when his hips snapped forward it broke into another gasp. A finger pressed on your slit over the fabric of your panties, he dragged it up while his hand harshly groped your breast.

“W-what are you doing?”

“What do you think?” Junpei nosed some hair out of his way and placed his lips on your nape, grazing his lips on the sensitive skin before moving to kiss your neck. “I thought you were here to spend time with me.” His teeth nibbled on the thin flesh and your legs turned to jelly.

“B-but the movie.”

Hooking a finger under the elastic on the edge of your panties, he pulled them to the side and let his middle finger slip inside.

“We can watch it later.”

“Jun, wait.” You squirmed and tried to move away from his fingers but you were trapped. If you moved backward you were going to press harder against his erection and moving forward meant his finger going deeper inside you. The latter was the worst option, so you moved your hips away from his hand.

What you hadn’t calculated was the way you were rocking back on forth with Junpei as he was grinding his clothed cock against the soft flesh of your ass. When you pressed yourself against him harder, it didn’t leave any more space for you to move away from his fingers.

Thanks to your dumb decision, Junpei had you right where he wanted.

“You’re so cute, always trying to act smarter than you actually are,” he whispered, lips brushing against your neck. “When you left that day after we watched your stupid movie, I jerked off to you.”

His hand on your breast moved between your bodies and placed on the front of his pants. He tugged them down while drawing small circles on your neck with his tongue and two of his fingers thrust inside your slick heat.

“I shoved my nose into the exact spot you sat to inhale your scent.”

The revelation of what he did after you left made you tremble. His hot and wet tongue pressed flat against the side of your neck and his fingers moving in a scissoring motion distracted you from his free hand guiding his cock between your legs.

“From the moment we met, I knew we were made for each other, (name).”

Nevertheless the awkward positioning, he slipped his fingers out of you and moved to grab your leg from the back of your knee. He lifted your leg until his cock had enough space to move and his hips surged forward.

A panicked sound left your lips when his cock moved between your folds rather than going inside like he had planned.

Before you could struggle, he pulled his hips back and thrust forward, angling his hips in the right direction. This time, it was a success.

Both of you moaned in unison.

Junpei buried his face into your neck and groaned loudly to the sensation of your warm cunt. Your gummy walls were sucking him right in. He couldn’t help slamming his hips into your pussy with a little too much force. You shook in his arms, nearly losing your balance “J-Jun,” you breathed, tone faint. “T-the movie.”

“Is that what you really want right now?” he whispered into your ear, thrusting in your cunt agitatedly.

You wanted to say something and shove him away so the two of you could focus on the movie that was playing on the screen instead but his cock stroked a sweet spot inside made you melt in his hold. You moaned instead, giving him the answer he wanted to hear.

He picked up a pace to fuck into you in a smooth motion and roughly pound into your pussy to steal cute little moans out of you. He was too lost in pleasure to be able to think. All he wanted was to feel your pussy clench around his cock.

His kisses on your neck turned into biting and you felt him lift your leg higher, launching both of you forward when you lost your balance. You managed to hold onto the TV stand while Junpei didn’t let the small accident interrupt him.

Letting go of your leg, he placed his hand on your back and pushed until you arched your back.

Now, he could thrust deeper inside you. Almost frantically, he started hammering his cock into your pussy. The impact caused you to place both hands on the furniture in front of you and hold onto it for dear life. Your clenching walls around him felt heavenly, he couldn’t stop moving his hips.

A shaky moan escaped your lips when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. Your hands gripped the furniture and your toes curled at the sensation. At some point, your attention suddenly averted to Junpei’s wandering hands pulling your back flush against his chest as every thrust of his hips left you shaking and begging for more.

“J-Jun,” you whined.

He knew exactly what it meant. If he couldn’t tell from the neediness in your voice, he could tell it from the way your gummy walls started pulsating around his cock. Instead of picking up his pace and fucking you like an animal in heat like you thought he would do, Junpei tried to thrust deeper, stroking your sensitive spot with his cock until your vision turned white and you started rocking yourself back on Junpei’s cock. Only then his thrusts became harder, almost as if he wanted to claim you as his only.

“Can I do it inside?” Junpei didn’t need an answer but you gave him one anyway.

“Y-yeah.”

His pace suddenly slackened, he was close to his own orgasm. He pushed his cock in your pussy down to the base and you felt the slight twitch of his balls on your ass as thick spurts of seed filled your womb.

He lowly grunted, continuing to move his hips and fucking his seed into you with disgustingly wet sounds. Your legs started to shake under you, his hands on your hips were the only things keeping you standing up but once he let go of you, the support disappeared. You dropped on the floor, his cum oozed out of you and stained the carpet.

None of you said anything. Not when you were catching your breaths or when you were fixing your clothes.

It took you a full minute before you asked something so utterly idiotic. “Should I go home?”

At that exact moment, he understood why people enjoyed bullying others who were weaker than them.

“I thought you came here to watch the movie with me.” He dared to say.

You stared at him blankly, your gaze slowly turned to the movie that had been playing the whole time and a faint smile tugged at your lips as you reached for the remote control on the other side of the carpet to restart the movie.

~~~

In the next club meeting, Junpei brought the movie you had wanted to watch last week.

Although the other two groaned in unison, they sat through the entire movie once Junpei told them they owed you this.

As for you, watching the movie you had already seen a week ago was boring but the anticipation to watch another new release you had rented with Junpei after school was enough to keep you on the edge.

#wrote this for a reader after they said junpei was their fave and gifted it to them lol #idk if they follow me on tumblr but if they do... i love you <3 #reader is a leetle dumb #junpei x reader #junpei yoshino x reader

389 notes · View notes

thefatedthoughtofyou · 3 years

Note

Okay so I’ve just binged through all your Sam&Bucky series and I love them all!

So prompt idea, some bad guy follows Bucky to the docks for revenge (over whatever you can decide) and Sarah gets to see how protective Bucky really is over Sam when he gets in the line of fire

{{{ I cannot even begin to tell you how excited i was when i got this prompt!!! like this is.... some of my favorite stuff to write!!! sorry it took me a little bit but i had other idea intruding on my brain and then inspiration struck me this morning at work and i came home and started this immediately! thank you so much! i hope you enjoy it!!!!! AND THANK YOU FOR READING MY SERIES YOU ARE SO SWEEEEETTTT!!!!!! }}}

Ao3

Word Count: 4,989

Static in the Dark

His phone buzzing on his nightstand wakes him. Sam reaches out blindly in the dark, knocking over a water bottle and groaning to himself, he pats around, making a small noise when his fingers connect with the vibrating phone. He turns it in his hand, finger pressing down and lighting up the screen, his eyes are blurry but he can read the name clear enough, BUCKY. Sam smiles at the grumpy picture of Bucky he’d set as his contact picture and then his eyes fall on the time in the corner of the screen.

1:27am.

Sam’s heart pounds in his ears. Bucky doesn’t call in the middle of the night. Not even when he should. When he has nightmares. He always waits until morning to call Sam. Or he brings him breakfast and they eat on the boat, sometimes talking about it, sometimes not. But he never calls when he knows Sam is sleeping. Never. Sam slides his finger over the screen and lifts it to his ear swiftly, his hands shaking.

“Buck? You okay?” it’s natural, he asks on instinct. The line crackles and he hears bits and pieces of Bucky’s words.

“Sam get-“

“They coming for you and-“

“Don’t – who they are but-“

“I’m stuck- be there –“

“can’t get loose. Sam, get Sarah and the boys-“

“Run.”

The line goes dead. Sam’s breathing is heavy. He tries to call Bucky back, he doesn’t answer. Sam jumps out of bed, grabs a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, pulling them on as he runs out the door to his truck. He didn’t know what was happening, or where Bucky was, or if he was safe. But he’d said to get Sarah and the boys, and he’d said to run, his voice sounding strained between the crackling on the phone. He’d never lied to Sam before, and he’d do anything to keep Sam’s family safe. So Sam starts his truck, backs into the yard to turn it around, and puts his foot down, grass flying from beneath his tires as he goes.

Sarah wakes to Sam’s hands shaking her shoulders. He’s trying to whisper her name but his voice is loud to her sleep heavy ears.

“What? What’s happening?” she mumbles, letting him pull her out of bed, stumbling in the dark when he presses her shoes into her hands.

“We have to go. We have to get the boys and leave.” He says, his eyes intense in the dark. She can see him now, the fog of sleep evaporating at the mention of her boys.

“Why? Sam what’s going on?” she asks, pulling her shoes on and immediately heading down the hall to her boys’ room.

“I don’t know. Bucky called me. The line was full of static. He sounded-“ Sam cut off, looking at her in the dimly lit hall. She moved her hand to his arm, comforting.

“What?” she asked, giving his arm a squeeze, worried about what he might have heard, seeing the worry in her brothers’ eyes wasn’t helping.

“I don’t know he sounded, in pain maybe? Or like he was struggling? He said he was stuck. I don’t know Sarah, I don’t know.” He was shaking his head at her, her heart pounded in her chest, he looked lost. Like a ship out at sea that had lost its anchor. She moved her hand to his shoulder, and then to cup his cheek.

“Bucky’s strong. He’ll be okay. And he called to warn us, so he’s okay. He’ll be okay.” She nodded, looking him in the eye, making sure he was seeing her. Hearing her. He nodded back, swallowed hard. Sarah watched him push his worry away, and they both went into the boy’s room and woke them. There was a chorus of questions from the boys, both of them growing more frantic as neither she, nor Sam, gave them any answers. She shoved jackets on them both and then her and Sam each grabbed an out stretched hand and ran out the door.

They were half way to his truck when Sam stopped them, his arm reaching out, holding them back as he looked around. Sarah knew that look, he’d heard something, or felt something. His instincts had always been wound so tightly. He tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes, listening, and then.

“MOVE!” he shouted, grabbed Sarah’s hand and pushing them all back, nearly tackling them out of the way. Sarah hears what are unmistakably gunshots, and then sees sparks on the ground as the bullets hit where they’d just been standing. She grabs the boys, both of them screaming, as Sam herds them to the side of one of the buildings. He kneels in front her as she holds the boys close.

“I need you stay here. Get to the truck when I give you the signal.” Sam says, he’s holding her head in his hands and her only thought is that his hands are so cold, he must be freezing, he’s not even wearing a jacket.

“What’s the signal?” she asks, breathless, her heart is pounding, her grip on the boys will no doubt leave bruises on their skin.

“When I tell you to run.” He looks at her, brows rising, making sure she’s with him. She nods for him to continue.

“You run.” He says,

“You get to the truck. And you get out of here. You hear me. You go.” He leans forward, kissing her forehead roughly, a long press of lips. He looks at the boys.

“You stay with your mom. Do not let go of her. Right?” he asks, they both nod frantically in unison, and Sarah can feel them shaking where they’re pressing against her.

“Good boys.” He kisses them too, hands curled around the backs of their heads briefly as he pulls them all close. And then he’s gone. And the night comes alive with sound.

Time seems to slow and speed up all at once. There’s more gun fire. And sounds of things Sarah has never heard before. All of them loud, making Sarah’s ears ring, she holds her boys close, pressing their heads up under her arms, trying to keep them from the noises, knowing it won’t help. The sounds move away, not far, but they aren’t right on top of them anymore. And then she hears Sam yell. The signal.

She grabs the boys and yanks them forward, all of them stumbling as they run through the dark to Sam’s truck. They make it to the door and she fumbles with the keys, trying to find the right button in her panic. She drops the keys and then hears footsteps, running, coming toward her, toward her boys. She turns, grabbing the boys and tossing herself, and them, to the side, just as a body slams into the door of Sam’s truck. She looks up at the man, dressed in black, his face covered. She and the boys scramble back across the ground, her hand hitting something hard as she crawled backward. Her fingers wrap around it and pull it forward, a crowbar, the metal is cold in her hand as she stands, a shield between this man and her children. The man laughs at her, she raises the bar over her head, ready to fight, to the death if she has to. He will not touch her boys.

He never gets the chance.

He’s slammed sideways, into the truck, the dent he’d already put there widening and spreading along the side of the truck. The body that had slammed into him, coming out of the dark silently, but fast, faster than should have been possible. Sarah feels relief flood through her as she sees a small glint of light. The man who had been threatening her slides sickeningly to the ground, not moving. The body that had slammed into his stands up, grunting a little before looking at her.

“Bucky.” She breathes, that relief almost buckling her knees as her boys dash forward and grab at her. Bucky is at her side in seconds.

“Hey. You okay? You all alright?” his hands are on her face, they’re cold like Sam’s, they move from her to the boys, checking them all for injury.

“We’re fine. We’re okay.” He nods and then stops, his eyes moving over her and the boys and the empty space behind them.

“Where’s Sam?” his voice is tight. Sarah feels a pang in her chest. The look in his eyes. She can’t place it. But it’s familiar.

“He ran that way.” She looks over his shoulder.

“To give us time.” She says, and it sounds like an apology, but if Bucky hears the plea in her voice he doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“Alright I got him. You stay here. And hold onto that.” He eyes the crowbar and gives her a little smile, always so cheeky. She smiles at him, nods, and watches him run off to find her brother, a glint of hellfire in his eyes.

She grabs the boys and shoves them into the bed of Sam’s truck, climbing in after them and standing over them, looking over the top of the truck, looking for her brother. She sees a shadow run toward Bucky, it crashes into him and sends him flying through one of the large store front windows nearby. She hears the glass shatter and grimaces. But he jumps back through the window and tackles the man that had hit him, a yell going through the air as he collides with him. She watched him raise his fist, and bring it down, twice. The man stops moving and doesn’t get up. Bucky stumbles away from the body on the ground and walks toward the gun fire she can see, muzzle flashes burning images onto her eyes in the dark.

The gunfire moves from Sam, to Bucky. He holds his hand up in front of him, blocking bullets with his hand and then curling his arm as he moves closer. The way he moves sending a shiver down Sarah’s spine. He’s so calculated, walking straight into gunfire, and taking the attention away from Sam. Making himself the only target they can see. Sarah watched Sam get up, and run to stand behind Bucky. She heard their voices, barely audible over the gunfire shattering the quiet night, but she can hear the tell tail teasing tones, and she smiles, looking down at her boys. They’re huddled against her legs, holding onto her thighs for dear life, little fingers digging into her skin.

She looks back up to see Bucky grab the gun that’s being fired at him. He breaks it in half and throws the pieces at the man who’d been shooting, they slam into his face and send him flying backwards. Bucky follows him, once again bring his fist down with terrifying precision until the man stops moving. Sarah gasps when another shadow moves and tackles her brother. Bucky turns quickly, his eyes on Sam immediately. He moves so fast Sarah barely sees him, tackling the man off of Sam with a feral growl that sounds like it rips its way out of him.

Sarah watched the two bodies roll away from Sam as he lay on the ground, not moving. They’re both on their feet in seconds, Bucky standing between the man and Sam.

“Touch him again and I’ll kill you.” Bucky’s voice carries on the wind from the bay, it’s deep, and threatening, and full of promise. Sarah’s heart is beating so hard in her chest she moves her hand up to her throat. The man laughs at Bucky, taking a step forward. He dodges quickly to the side, clearly trying to fake him out, Bucky catches him easily. He spins the man around, metal arm wrapping around his neck and pulling. The man goes limp in his arms. Sarah looks away, swearing she heard a sickening pop, but knowing it was probably just in her head. Probably.

The night is quiet again. The gunfire stopped. No more flashes of light. Sarah looks up and sees Bucky on his knees at her brothers’ side, his hands on Sam’s face until he sits upright abruptly. Bucky nearly tumbles backwards, Sam grabs his arm, and she hears them both laughing. Her heart warming as she watches them smile in the dark. Bucky pulls Sam to his feet with a grunt, as sirens and flashing lights fill the air behind her. She turns to see police and what look like black FBI vehicles, the ones you always see on tv. They pull in quickly and round up the men littered on the ground. Sam and Bucky walk over slowly. Sarah hops down out of the truck, helping the boys down after her.

Sam’s lip is split, and his eye brow is bleeding. His knuckles are bleeding and bruised too when he reaches for her hand. She grabs it quickly and squeezes. He pulls her close and kisses her temple, the boys rushing to his side and squeezing them both.

“You alright?” Sam breathes into her hair. Sarah nods.

“You?” she asks, pulling back and looking at him. He smiles, looking tired, and nods. She looks over to Bucky, his eye is swelling, a purple glint to the skin there, and there’s a large gash across his nose, and a few smaller cuts on his forehead.

“How bout you tough guy?” She asks, teasing. He laughs, a quick breath through his nose.

“I’m good.” He nods.

“Better then that window you broke.” Sam mumbles, slapping his hand into Bucky’s arm gently.

“The window I broke? He threw me into it, I didn’t exactly have a choice.” Bucky retorted, glaring at Sam.

“Uh huh sure, a likely story.” Sam shook his head.

“I’ll fix it.” Bucky said, his voice quiet. Sam looked at him for a moment, his face soft.

“I’m just kiddin man. It’s fine. You’re okay though?” he asked, clapping a hand to his shoulder.

“Yeah I’m good. I’m-“

“Bucky…?”

They all looked down at the same time, to see AJ pointing at Bucky’s side with a shaking finger, tears in his eyes. Sarah watched Bucky frown at him. Watched him lift his arm to look at his own side. And gasped when she saw the jagged piece of glass lodged in his side. The glass was thin but the line in Bucky’s side was almost three inches across. Sarah moved her hand to her mouth as Sam turned Bucky toward him, she could see the blood on his skin now. Her eyes moved down and saw a small pool of blood growing around his foot. She watched Bucky blink slowly, as he looked up at Sam, brow furrowed.

“Oh look… I’ve been impaled.” He mumbled, his voice trailing off as he swayed sideways, a small smile on his lips. Sam caught him as his knees buckled, yelling for a medic as he held Bucky to his chest.

“I knew shouldn’t have let you watch that stupid fucking movie.” Sam whispers, his voice sounding tight, his free hand hovering over Bucky’s side, wanting to stop the bleeding but not able to without pushing the glass in further.

Sarah watched them load him into the ambulance. Tears in her eyes as she held onto the boys. Sam looked at her, a question in his eyes.

“You go with him. We’ll meet you there.” She said, nodding to him and watching him climb into the ambulance quickly. The boys were running to the car before she even turned to tell them. She ran back into the house, grabbed her own keys, and followed the ambulance to the hospital.

Sam’s leg hadn’t stopped bouncing since Sarah sat down next to him in the waiting room. Sam had watched as the boys had sat and slowly fallen asleep next to their mother, both of them holding hands. He smiled when Sarah reached out, putting her hand on his knee.

“They said he’d be fine. He’s already out of surgery. He’s just gotta wake up a bit and we can go see him.” She reassured him. Sam nodded, taking a deep breath, and trying to relax a little in his chair. They still had no idea who the men that attacked them were. As far as Sam had heard, they’d shown up at Bucky’s apartment, snuck in in the dark and attacked him. Lucky for him, and Sam and his family, Bucky was very light sleeper, if he was sleeping at all. They’d managed to trap him with something. But not for long. Sam had never been so glad that Bucky had all that freakish strength.

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah’s voice swam through the fog in his head, he looked at her, her eyes were on him, studying him.

“Yeah. What?” he asked. She looked at him for a moment, thinking, he waited.

“Is he always so…” she trailed off, clearly not sure what word to use.

“Aggressive?” Sam supplied, a small smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“I was gonna say protective.” Sarah said, giving him that knowing look that he always hated.

“Protective?” Sam asks, tilting his head.

“I mean yeah. He’s protective of the people he cares about. Who isn’t?” Sam said, closing his eyes and leaning back to rest his head against the wall.

“I meant protective… of you.”

Sam could hear the smirk, he groaned and did not look at her.

“He protected all of us Sarah. He cares about all, of us.” Sam sighed.

“No I know that. I know he cares about all of us. I know, he protected all of us. That’s not what I was talking about.” She slapped Sam’s leg, he grunted and looked at her finally.

“What then? What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice verging on annoyed now.

Sarah looked at him. Really looked at him. He almost rolled his eyes at her but then she spoke.

“He said, ‘touch him again, and I’ll kill you’.” She said, still giving him that look. Sam frowned.

“He said them, touch ‘them’ again.” Sam said, his fist clenching against his leg, knuckles throbbing under the bandage one of the nurses had wrapped around his hand. Sarah gave him a look that was close to pity. One he wasn’t used to, not from her.

“No Sam. He said ‘him’. And the look in his eyes. When I told him where you were and he saw you being shot at.” She trailed off, looked over at the boys sleeping crookedly in the hospital chairs, and then slowly looked back.

“I’ve never seen anyone so determined and pissed off all at once. I mean, you’re a stubborn asshole, and you get that look in your eyes sometimes Sam, but this.” She shook her head and took a deep breath, looking down the hall, and then back to Sam again.

“That man. I think he’d burn the world down to protect you. The fire in his eyes when he saw you were in danger.” She moved her thumb against his knee gently.

“I know he’s lost a lot of things in his life. And I know you… we, have given him a little something back. But that look, that was all for you. He’d die, before he let anything happen to you. And it goes beyond just you two being partners so don’t you give me that look Sam Wilson.” She poked him in the chest, and he moved his hand to the spot, pretending to rub away the pain, but really trying to see if she could have felt how hard his heart was beating under his ribs. She smiled at him, softly, she looked so much like their mother, and she had that same knowing look in her eyes.

“He loves you.” She said. Like it was simple. Like it was obvious. Sam swallowed hard around nothing, finding it hard to breathe.

“And?” he asked, knowing she could say it. That she would say it. Because he needed her too. She smiled at him, big and bright, her round cheeks moving up, pressing her eyes closed a bit. She moved her hand to his shoulder.

“And you love him.” She said, sounding giddy, her nose scrunching as she exaggerated her smile further. Sam took a deep breath, his hands shaking.

“I see the way you look at him. He looks at you the same way. I mean hell Sam, you look at each other, that way. You’re both just… I don’t know.” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Idiots?” Sam supplied. She laughed, dropping her head onto his shoulder before looking back up.

“Yeah. That’s probably accurate. Idiots in love.” She bit her lip and laughed again, singing that last word, teasing. Sam laughed too. His fast-beating heart calming in his chest at her words. She was right. She usually was, though Sam would never admit that out loud. He’d known it. For awhile now. Since Bucky helped them fix the boat, maybe before. He didn’t know exactly when. Things had been so… complicated, for such a long time. And then they’d been gone. And then they were back and the world was in a panic and there was no time… for anything. But he’d known, watching him so relaxed around Sarah and the boys, and all the people at the docks, he’d known. It had been pulsing under his ribs every time Bucky had smiled at him with that toothy grin.

He looked at his sister. She nodded, her smile fading a bit, but still hovering in her eyes.

“I love him.” Sam said, breathing it out like a prayer.

“I know.” Sarah said, giving him a short squeeze and then pulling back as the doctor walked into the waiting room.

“He’s awake. Still groggy. He may be in and out a bit. But you can come see him.” The man smiled at them, nodding at Sam when he nodded his thanks.

He and Sarah woke AJ and Cass and they all followed the doctor to Bucky’s room. He was watching the door when they walked up, and he smiled softly and lifted his hand in a small wave. AJ and Cass looked at their mom, she nodded at them and they rushed into the room, both of them pouncing carefully on Bucky, he groaned exaggeratedly but pulled them close. Smiling when they both jumped off the bed to reenact the way he’d come out of the dark to save them, slamming the villain into Sam’s truck so hard the truck nearly bent in half.

“You can stay as long you like. We’d like to keep a few days. If he’ll let us.” The doctor said, giving Sam a look, Sam laughed and nodded.

“You might get him over night.” Sam said, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

“That’s about what I expected. Have a good night Mr. Wilson.” He looked toward Sarah.

“Ms. Wilson.” He nodded and strode down the hall, disappearing around the corner. Sam and Sarah both looked into the room, watching the boys chat with Bucky, Cass was running his fingers gently over the scaring on Bucky’s shoulder when Bucky made a growling noise and grabbed at him, Cass shrieked and leapt backward. Bucky and AJ laughing, Cass joining them after his initial fright. Sam saw Bucky grimace, his fingers moving to his side, but he hid it well, forcing a smile as the boys kept laughing. Sarah nudged Sam, her elbow digging into his ribs.

“Ow.” Sam huffed, looking at her.

“He’s good with them.” She said, smiling. Sam smiled too, watching them some more.

“Yeah. Kids love him.” He said, shaking his head.

“They’re not the only ones.” She muttered, looking smug.

“I swear to god.” Sam sighed, looking at her. She smiled at him, wiggled her eyebrows, and then headed into the room herself. Sam hung back, letting her have a moment.

“Hey you.” She said, leaning close to Bucky, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“Hey.” He smiled groggily up her, looking tired.

“How you feelin sunshine?” she asked, brushing her fingers over the cuts on his head.

“Yeah good. I’m good. Tired.” He nodded, his eyes drooping.

“Yeah. We’ll let you sleep. I’m gonna take these boys home, see if I can get them to sleep. But we’ll see you soon.” She pressed her hand firmly into his shoulder, eliciting another tired smile.

“And Bucky?” she pressed on his shoulder again, his eyes fluttered open, he looked up her with wide eyes.

“Thank you. For helping us. For saving us. Saving them.” She looked over at AJ and Cass, both of them standing at the end of his bed, looking tired but happy. Bucky smiled at them and then looked back to Sarah.

“It was my pleasure.” He moved his hand up, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze, his eyes shining. She smiled brighter, gave him a wink, and then herded the boys out the door. They both gave Sam hugs as they passed him, Sarah did as well.

“Good luck.” She whispered as she pulled away, patting his cheek, her hands going to the boys’ shoulders as she turned to walk down the hall. Sam smiled at her, watching her walk away and rolling his eyes when she winked at him. He turned back to Bucky’s room, his eyes were closed, his head resting on his pillow. Sam smiled to himself, a small thing, soft and barely there, and walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

He sleeps for a few hours, Sam sits by his side, watching old cartoons on tv, the volume turned down. It doesn’t matter what they’re saying, he’s not paying attention. He watched Bucky sleep off an on, watching his chest rise and fall, the pale skin there littered with small scratches and cuts from the glass he’d been tossed through. His fingers itched to reach out and touch, he fisted his hands, and then ran his palms over his thighs, moving his eyes back to the television.

He hears Bucky stir about an hour later, Sam holds the smile back, watching Bucky nuzzle into the pillow beneath his head before his eyes flutter open. He blinks a few times, eyes settling on Sam eventually. The corner of his mouth twitches, and Sam gives him a little wave.

“I killed your truck. I’m sorry.” Bucky groans, his hand moving over the bandage on his side.

“It’s just a dent Buck, a big dent, but it’s fixable.” Sam said, his hand moving to the inside of his thigh, curling into the meat of his leg, keeping his hand occupied. Bucky moved his head slowly, disagreeing the best he could.

“Nuh uh, I felt it Sam. That trucks broken.” His words were a little slurred from sleep, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh. He was always so goddamn argumentative.

“Well, better the truck, than Sarah and the boys.” Sam said, serious now. The small smile on Bucky’s lips faded as he looked at Sam.

“I tried to call you. I couldn’t get out. They had me chained to the pipes in my bathroom and I-“

“Bucky.” Sam cut him off, Bucky’s eyes were shining again, Sam could see his chin trembling.

“If you hadn’t called. They’d be gone. I’d probably be gone too. You saved us Buck. You did. We’re okay.” Sam reached out then, his hand moving over Bucky’s arm, pulling it away from where he’d wrapped it around himself. Bucky watched Sam’s hand move down his arm. Watched Sam press his fingers between Bucky’s, threading them together, and leaving them there. Sam heard the quick intake of breath before he looked back up. A tear had fall down Bucky’s cheek.

“We’re all okay.” Sam raised their joined hands and pressed his lips to the back of Bucky’s hand.

“We’re okay.” He breathed, pressing his lips to Bucky’s pale skin over and over. He watched Bucky relax into the bed again, his eyes moving to the ceiling as he let out a shaky breath, another tear falling as Sam watched him trying to control his emotions.

“You saved me.” Sam said, reaching out with his free hand and wiping the tears away from Bucky’s face gently. Bucky leaned into the touch, his lip trembling again as his eyes fell back to Sam. Sam brushed his thumb over Bucky’s cheek, moving his hand down, fingers pressing into his neck as his thumb bushed across Bucky’s lip, stilling the tremble.

“I guess that makes us even.” Bucky said, smiling that toothy grin that Sam had become so fond of, pressing his head further into Sam’s touch as another tear fell. Sam brushed it away, knuckles moving over Bucky’s skin slowly. Bucky moved his metal hand, grabbing at Sam’s hand, pressing their fingers together as he moved Sam’s hand down ever so slightly. He turned Sam’s hand slowly, watching Sam for any sign that he should stop, and received none. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Sam’s palm, kissing him sweetly. Sam felt his heart flutter in his chest, Bucky’s lips were soft, and warm, and his. Bucky tangled his metal fingers with Sam’s and lowered their hands to his chest, his head falling back onto his pillow. He smiled softly at Sam, his eyes fluttering from exhaustion again, he snapped them open, his body jerking slightly as he forced himself awake.

“Go to sleep Buck. I’ll be right here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.” Sam said, moving his thumb in slow circles over Bucky’s hand. Bucky’s eyes were closed before Sam finished speaking, his breathing slowing as he fell into sleep, the smile on his lips fading as he drifted deeper.

Sam watched him sleep, for hours, keeping watch. The television in the corner completely forgotten.

#abc-easy-as-123 #sambucky #sambucky fic #ficlet #sambucky ficlet #winter falcon #winter falcon fic #winter falcon ficlet #my writing #request #requests #asks

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

obikin 28,11 :3

kit to kit: oh, 28, knocking on the wrong door, that can be a cute modern quirky au

kit to kit: yeah totally sure !!! you know what it could also be? 4.2k of dark canon AU that is dub con due to identity issues that definitely ends with anakin tied to a bed with future plans of stockholm syndroming him!!!

(so read at your own risk here this is definitely on the darker side of these prompt fills)

28. Knocking On The Wrong Right Wrong Door AU (4.2k)

The storm’s picked up to dangerous levels by the time Anakin and his padawan have picked their way out of the smoking rubble of their ship and made it into the nearby town.

“Think of it this way!” Anakin yells over the howl of the wind. “The rain’ll put out the rest of the fire!”

The look Ahsoka gives him is cold enough to freeze the rain that’s pelting down on them.

“I hope Master Windu grounds you for destroying another one of the Temple’s ships,” she snips at him, looking deeply unimpressed with his dramatic expression of hurt and betrayal.

“No one keeps count of that stuff, Snips,” Anakin grins. “And anyway, if I get grounded, you’d definitely be grounded with me. As my Padawan.”

“I’d be promoted, actually. They’d knight me on the spot the first time I come back with all my ships intact.”

Anakin rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to say something, but there’s a crack of thunder loud enough to shake him to his bones and a seriously bright flash of lightning that connects with a wind-swept tree next to them.

“Shelter!” Anakin yells over the renewed rain. “Come on, Ahsoka!”

The town is small, but there has to be some sort of hotel or lodge or--

“We don’t have any credits, Master!” Ahsoka cries, running after him.

She’s right. All their funds were in their ship, and neither of them had thought to grab them.

Kriff it all.

He changes course as soon as they get to the outskirts of the village.

He pounds on the door of the first cottage they come across. Either no one’s in or they’re particularly unfriendly, because the door stays firmly shut.

He hits the wood harder, setting up a constant rhythm. In a second, they’ll run to the next house, but there’s something about this place that feels right. Surely if only Anakin could knock loud enough to be heard over the storm--

The door cracks open and warm yellow light spills out over the doorstep.

“What?” The man asks stiffly. Anakin can only see a sliver of his face--one blue eye, dark red hair, and a beard.

“Good evening,” Anakin says, putting on his best Jedi voice. “I am seeking shelter from the storm for myself and my companion. We--”

“There’s an inn next to the school in town. Goodnight.”

Anakin wedges his foot in just before the man can close the door. “Please sir, we don’t have any credits--”

“Unfortunate. Goodnight.”

“Please, sir. My name is Anakin Skywalker. I am a General in the War. Shelter us tonight and the Jedi Order will see you repaid in full!”

The man pauses and looks him up and down slowly. The door opens a little wider. “Skywalker?” He asks, sounding suspicious.

Anakin nods eagerly. He doesn’t particularly like dropping his name like that, especially not on strange planets, but he needs to get his Padawan out of the storm. “Anakin, yes. We won’t hurt you or anything, sir. I swear.”

“Come on, Anakin,” Ahsoka says from behind him. “Let’s just go somewhere else. Someone else will let us in.”

The man tears his gaze away from Anakin, the first time he’s done so this entire time, and looks over Ahsoka as well. He opens the door even farther. “I’ll let you in,” he decides and Anakin has to fight the loud sigh of relief. “But I would like you to give me your weapons for the night, please.”

The man looks back to Anakin with a smile. It changes the lines of his face, softens them until the man looks pleasant instead of harsh. He has a nice smile. He has a really, really nice smile.

“No--” Ahsoka starts to say, sounding offended, but Anakin, still dazed by the flash of the man’s teeth, is already saying, “Yeah, of course. Here you go,” and giving his lightsaber to the man as soon as he opens the door all the way.

“Thank you, Anakin,” the man replies with another one of those smiles. Anakin can feel his face heat up at the way his name sounds rolling off this man’s tongue. “And thank you, young one,” he says when Ahsoka reluctantly thrusts her own lightsabers towards him.

“I’m not young,” Ahsoka takes great offense and the man looks apologetic.

“‘Soka,” Anakin reprimands immediately. “Don’t be rude.”

She stares at him in astonishment. He doesn’t tend to correct her that harshly, even when she’s been snippier to foreign dignitaries. But the man doesn’t deserve an attitude from either of them. He’s letting them stay in his house! He’s gorgeous! He’s going to house them out of his own generosity for the night! He’s very, very fit!

“The sitting room is just down the hall and to the right,” the man says, with a tilt of his head. Anakin obediently pulls Ahsoka along. “I’ll just go grab you some dry clothes to change into.”

Behind him he hears the man lock the door. That’s good. Safety is important and he obviously seems a little paranoid. It’s now Anakin’s full time mission to make sure the man knows he can trust him. Them.

Them.

“I have a really bad feeling about this, Anakin,” Ahsoka hisses as he practically shoves her down the hallway and into the sitting room, which looks nice and cozy. There’s a couch and everything, with a Holo projector balanced on an old looking low table.

“I’m feeling much better about this than about our odds in that storm,” Anakin argues back in an undertone. There are footsteps above them, so the man’s bedroom must be on the second floor. Anakin wonders what it looks like, and Ahsoka seems to catch on with where his thoughts are because she hits him on the shoulder.

“You’d know what I’m talking about if you were thinking with your brain instead of your lightsaber, Master.”

He opens his mouth to tell her how rude that is and also how very wrong, as Anakin can think with both, thank you very much, but the man appears in the room with them before he has a chance to.

“They won’t fit, obviously,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as if he’s embarrassed to have surprise guests in his house and not have their correct sizes in his closet. “But anything’s better than what you’re wearing now, I thought.”

“Yeah!” Anakin says eagerly. Ahsoka gives him an unimpressed look, crossing her arms. “I mean,” he coughs. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

The redhead gifts Anakin another one of his smiles. This one makes his blue eyes crinkle, which just might end up being his cause of death. Enshrine him in the Jedi Temple and at the plaque on his fee put “Here Lies Anakin Skywalker: Dead Because An Attractive Stranger Treated Him With Human Decency”.

His padawan rolls her eyes and takes her proffered stack of clothes. The man shows her where the fresher is and she stalks into it.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin apologizes immediately when the man turns to look at him with a lost look. “She’s just mad at me for crashing our ship. We were flying fine one minute and the next we have to make this emergency landing that turns out to be a bit--hard on the landing. And….you didn’t ask, did you? Kark. Sorry.”

The man smiles again with an amused shake of his head. “It’s alright, Anakin, I was wondering anyway.” He holds out the clothes for Anakin to change into and Anakin grabs them because it’s something to do that isn’t keel over from embarrassment.

Or, of course, kneel down to show this stranger how much he appreciates his kindness.

Anakin wills that thought--and it’s gorgeous mental image--away. He just hasn’t had sex in a while, not since he and Padme had gotten divorced. Usually, he needs that intimate connection with someone before he even thinks about sex, but maybe when he’s too horny it doesn’t matter anymore? Because he doesn’t even know this man’s name, but when their hands brush as he receives the stack of clothes, he feels as though the lightning from outside is shooting down his spine.

“Um.” He says, like the intelligent war general he is.

Has the man moved closer? Are his eyes dark or is it just the lighting? Is he interested in men? Is he interested in Anakin? Also, what is his kriffing name?

Anakin glances down at the clothes, preparing to ask at least one of those questions, before he realizes something. “There’s no shirt here?” He asks instead of anything much more pressing.

The man’s eyes widen and a blush spreads across his cheeks. “Oh, blast,” he mumbles, already turning to leave. “I’ll go grab you one, I’m sorry, I knew I forgot something.”

Anakin finds himself feeling hopelessly endeared by the man’s awkward flailing. He wonders if he’s managed to fluster the man. The idea feels amazing in his mind.

Grinning to himself, he starts shucking off his wet clothes. He can at least change into the pants while he waits for the man to come back, and if his timing is right---

He’s tying the loose pants tight around his waist when he hears footsteps in the hall.

Yes.

He turns around, shirtless, to glance at the man in the doorway, who’s stopped to stare at Anakin.

Anakin tries not to preen too obviously. Jedi training has done ridiculous things to the muscles of his back and chest, and he wants the man to look. To appreciate. To want.

And the man looks like he does. The man looks like he wants a lot.

There’s something dark and dangerous and wild and unrestrained in those eyes. Anakin wants closer.

He drops his shoulder and turns to face the man completely, letting him look his full. His gaze feels like a brand on every part of Anakin it touches. His hands tighten on the fabric of the shirt he’s holding when Anakin stretches his arms above his head as he yawns in a pathetically fake manner.

The man takes a couple of steps forward and Anakin stills in anticipation. He had thought he’d looked beautiful smiling, but this--this naked, dangerous want for Anakin that clouds his face--is so much more attractive. It would take one word from the man and he’d be on his knees. His back. His front. He’s not picky, he’s too busy feeling like his whole body is a live wire.

The door opens and Ahsoka’s deeply unimpressed tone effectively snaps the tension in the room. “What are you doing.”

“Getting dressed!” Anakin yelps, taking the shirt the man extends to him and putting it on immediately.

The man sends Ahsoka an unreadable but dark look before blinking a few times and smiling at her. Whatever had been on his face is gone and Anakin can’t help but think that he must have imagined it.

“Please, sit. Are you hungry?” He asks, rubbing his hands together. “Fixing you two a meal would be the least I can do for the galaxy’s heroes.”

Anakin flushes and preens as he follows the direction, the man’s praise wrapping like a warm blanket around his mind.

Ahsoka is less taken in, even as she settles in on the couch next to Anakin. “You could tell us your name,” she says, arms crossed. The look is ruined by the way the gray tunic the man has given to her is big enough to fall off one of her shoulders.

The man freezes for a second, barely noticeable if Anakin was not watching him as intently as he is. Then the stranger’s shoulders droop for a second and he looks so sad that actually Anakin doesn’t care if he never learns the man’s name. He’ll call him Dear for the rest of his life.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the man eventually murmurs, sitting delicately on the arm of the comfortable looking chair and giving them a half-sort of smile. “At your service.”

Anakin’s eyes narrow at the name that feels like it should be familiar. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. It’s pretty. He likes it.

Ahsoka jumps to her feet. “Obi-Wan Kenobi!” she says and turns to Anakin as if that’s supposed to mean something to him. He blinks up at her in confusion. “You’re the Jedi that Fell after Qui-Gon Jinn died!”

Anakin rises immediately, brain trying to process this new information. Yes. Yeah. Obi-Wan Kenobi. They’d met. They’d met on Tatooine. Kenobi had been Qui-Gon’s padawan. He’d killed Maul after Maul killed Qui-Gon. And then...he’d left the Order. Anakin had been assigned another Master. He’d forgotten all about Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“I didn’t Fall,” Obi-Wan Kenobi corrects from his place on the chair. “Please, sit down.”

“You left the Order with Dooku!” Ahsoka accuses. “And you’re trying to tell me you didn’t Fall?”

Anakin’s hand goes to his belt automatically, but he doesn’t have his lightsaber. He’d given it to Obi-Wan.

“Look at my eyes, young one,” Obi-Wan demands in a cold tone. “Are they Sith-gold?”

Anakin hesitates. Obi-Wan has a point. His eyes are blue. And surely they’d know if there was another Sith afoot in the galaxy. Sith don’t like keeping quiet about themselves, from everything Anakin’s learned about them.

“You’re old enough to know how to hide that,” Ahsoka challenges immediately, which makes Obi-Wan wince.

“You don’t pull your punches, do you?” He asks with a forced laugh. Then he looks at Anakin, and his face turns pleading. “Anakin,” he says gently, slowly, Ah-na-kin, “I’m not lying. Please believe me. I--I didn’t leave the Order to join the Sith. I left because they wouldn’t allow me to train you, Anakin.”

Anakin feels like the shipwreck from an hour ago caused less whiplash than these few sentences. “Me?”

“Qui-Gon begged me to train you as he lay dying in my arms,” Obi-Wan’s jaw clenches and his face looks sad again. He closes his eyes as if to ward off the memory and when he opens them again they look wet. “When they wouldn’t allow me to, I realized there was nothing in the Order left for me. Dooku, my master’s master, came to me and asked me to leave with him. I had no idea that he would Fall. As soon as I realized what he had become, I ran. That’s why I’m here, Anakin. Please believe me. I have no involvement in the war, on either side.”

Force help him, but he does. He does believe him. He looks so honest, so heartbroken. This is Obi-Wan Kenobi? He can’t really say he remembers enough about what Kenobi had looked like all those years ago to know if the man in front of him could be an older version of the Padawan he’d met. He doesn’t actually remember anything about Kenobi, except--

“Hey, wait a second, you called me a pathetic lifeform!” Anakin says indignantly, a nine-year-old’s rage welling up in him at the memory.

Obi-Wan blinks at him and then bursts into laughter. It sounds like rocks, sliding into the ocean. Sith don’t laugh like that. He can’t imagine Ventress laughing like that. Or laughing at all, aside from a sinister chuckle.

Obi-Wan wipes the wetness from his eyes and grins at Anakin. “I’d forgotten about that,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Anakin pouts. “I was standing right there.”

“Making moon-eyes at Queen Amidala, yes,” Obi-Wan raises a sardonic eyebrow. “I thought you were sufficiently distracted. She was quite prettier.”

Anakin’s first instinct is to say, I’m prettier, but that’s not actually appropriate, and maybe Obi-Wan wouldn’t agree with him anyway.

“Do you believe me, Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan asks, turning to her while Anakin is working on controlling his flushed face.

Anakin’s padawan is still standing, but looks unsure. “I...I don’t know.”

“Then we can talk more about it over a cup of tea,” Obi-Wan decides, standing up. “I’ll be back in a second.”

As he walks past the couch to get through a door that must lead to his kitchen, he brushes his hand along Anakin’s shoulder and neck.

Anakin would like to say he handles this touch with grace and aplomb as befitting a Jedi Knight, but the look Ahsoka gives him makes him feel much more like a pathetic lifeform than a Jedi Knight.

“We can trust him,” Anakin mutters to her. “I remember him.”

“It’s been years, Anakin,” Ahsoka mutters back. “Even if you remember everything he’s ever said to you, he could be a completely different person. He probably is.”

“It’s just a night, Snips,” he reasons. “And there’s no alternatives. And I think we can trust him.”

She hesitates for a second and then exhales. “Fine,” she agrees. “But I’m not happy about it.”

Anakin grins in response.

----

Halfway through tea, Ahsoka starts nodding off.

“Crash landing takes a lot out of anyone,” Obi-Wan says sympathetically with a wink at Anakin, who puffs up in indignation. Before he can say anything in defense of his very necessary landing, Obi-Wan has taken Ahsoka’s tea and put it gently on the table. “Come on, girl, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping. I have a spare room.”

Ahsoka goes easily enough, in a way that makes Anakin feel bad for how short-tempered he’s been with her in the past few hours. He’s been stressed, she’s been stressed, but she’s just a youngling still. She’s probably been exhausted for so long now.

“Could you put our cups in the sink, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks as he leads the Togruta out of the sitting area.

Anakin complies immediately, carrying each mug like they’re something special and precious before dumping out the contents into the sink and filling each with water.

He thinks about washing them and putting them into cupboards, but he doesn’t want Obi-Wan to think that’s he’s rifling through his cupboards or anything, so he goes back to the living room to wait for him.

Obi-Wan returns just a few seconds later, smiling slightly to himself.

“What?” Anakin asks immediately. If there’s a joke that Obi-Wan finds funny, Anakin wants to hear it too.

“Just something Ahsoka said,” he replies, looking fondly down at Anakin.

Anakin’s feeling too persistent to be sidetracked by that though, so he raises both his eyebrows.

“That she’d skewer me on her lightsabers if I besmirched her master’s honor, no matter how much he asks for it,” Obi-Wan recalls with a perfectly straight face.

Anakin buries his blushing face in his hands instantly. “Force,” he mumbles.

Obi-Wan laughs again. It’s just as pretty as last time and it makes Anakin peek through his fingers.

“It’s alright, Anakin,” Obi-Wan soothes. “I told her I thought I would be quite good at resisting any sort of begging from you.”

Anakin’s first thought is, of course, Want to bet?, but that’s hardly a thing to say to a near stranger. Even if he is very handsome and he has looked at you like you’re a feast and he’s a starving man just a few hours ago.

No, Anakin. Bad Anakin.

“So that’s me for the couch then, yeah?” He says in a totally normal and not at all high-pitched voice, standing so he can go fetch a blanket.

The look in Obi-Wan’s eyes freezes him where he is. They’re filled with that same dark want from before paired with a promise. “If you’d like,” Obi-Wan murmurs and then just to make sure there’s no confusion, he holds out his hand. “Or….”

Anakin doesn’t even have to think about it before he’s interlacing their fingers.

-----

When Anakin comes to, there’s light streaming in through the windows in Obi-Wan’s bedroom. He grumbles and tries to roll over.

He can’t.

Both of his arms have been securely tied over his head, and there’s a gag in his mouth.

Really, his first instinct should be panic and not a sort of sleepy arousal at what Obi-Wan plans to do with him like this.

But no. The panic doesn’t set in until he sees Obi-Wan by the window, deathstick held between his lips as he listens to a holocall.

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan murmurs, exhaling a line of smoke out the window before turning to look at Anakin. He nods his head in greeting, as if this is a normal scenario. “Yes, he’s just woken up.”

When he turns his head back to the window, the yellow of his eyes catch on the sunlight and gleam bright gold.

“The padawan has been dealt with,” Obi-Wan continues, which makes Anakin lose any sense of calm he still felt. He’s cut off from the Force so he can’t feel his bond with Ahsoka. Fear and fury wash through him equally at the thought of Obi-Wan, this Sith lord traitor and dirty liar, dealing with Ahsoka.

Oh Force, she’d been right. She’d been so right. Had she paid the cost for Anakin’s blindness?

“Yes, Master. Tell Sidious he can expect his Chosen One kneeling before him in chains as soon as he deposits the credits into my account. I’ve sent multiple pictures already as proof that Anakin Skywalker is alive and bound.”

Anakin tries to yell through the gag, but it’s ineffective and only causes Obi-Wan to look at him with an amused eyebrow raise. “And awake,” the Sith traitor purrs into the comm. “Must go now. Remember, Dooku. My credits.”

With that, he ends the comm and stubs out his deathstick with a flourish, walking around to stand at the foot of the bed with all the grace of a predator who knows its prey is well and truly cornered.

“Good morning, darling,” Obi-Wan croons. “Sorry you had to hear that.”

Anakin glowers at him. He’s never hated anyone more than he hates Obi-Wan Kenobi at this moment.

“Your padawan is safe,” Obi-Wan starts, sitting on the bed by Anakin’s midsection and tracing a hand down his bare chest. Anakin twitches away from him. “No, really,” the Sith promises in a soothing voice. “I drugged her last night of course, but you have to admit she looked like she needed a full night’s sleep.”

The tea. Force, the tea. If Anakin had thought to check the tea, or to follow Obi-Wan into the kitchen and watch him make it, they wouldn’t be here in this position. He wouldn’t be here in this specific position. Force.

“And this morning while you slept, I carried her out to my ship--or Dooku’s ship, I suppose--and put her on route to the Jedi Temple. She’ll arrive in a day or so, probably. I even gave her food and drink to survive comfortably until then. There’s no need to worry.”

Anakin tries to convey the level of disbelief he has for that statement in a single glare. Obi-Wan shrugs languidly, hand still touching his skin in a way he’d enjoyed last night. His body hasn’t gotten the notice that it shouldn’t enjoy Obi-Wan’s touch anymore, which is making this whole bound and gagged thing really awkward.

“Well, for her, I suppose.” Obi-Wan chuckles and pulls his hand away so he can light another deathstick. He takes a drag and then exhales. “I’ll even let you comm her. It’s actually quite important that you do. You see, I told her that I would kill you if she tried to come back here without first going to the Temple. She seemed to believe me.”

He rolls his eyes fondly, as if they’re sharing a joke at Ahsoka’s expense.

“Like I’d kill you,” Obi-Wan huffs a laugh, shaking his head and bringing the deathstick back to his mouth. “I told her I’d let you comm her the second she lands. Of course, she will be surrounded by Jedi masters, who will be very interested in hearing my proposed trade deal, even if she isn’t. I will give them the name of Darth Sidious, my master’s master. I will give them proof enough to end the war and have him arrested and tried for his crimes. And they will give me you.”

Anakin feels his eyes widen at the words. It’s so unexpected that even if he weren’t gagged, he wouldn’t be able to think of a single thing to say.

“It’s perfect, really,” Obi-Wan murmurs, a hand coming up to stroke through Anakin’s hair. “Sidious thinks he is about to get his hands on you, as that has been the plan for weeks now. He has paid good money for you, you know. I almost feel bad for deciding to break our agreement. But you just fell apart so beautifully under my hands last night, darling. How can I give you up?”

Anakin shivers as the memory of last night washes over his mind. He’s never felt more ashamed and yet still guiltily pleased with his performance. The praise he's getting. Force it feels good to be praised.

“So Sidious thinks he will get you, the Jedi will get Sidious, Ahsoka will probably get knighted, and you will be where you belong,” Obi-Wan blows out smoke and then leans down to grin into Anakin’s face. Anakin has to tell himself not to look away. Those yellow eyes are filled with a recognizable lust. It had been so attractive last night. It’s still attractive now, if he’s being completely honest. Force, what is wrong with him?

Obi-Wan’s hand leaves his hair to press delicately on a new bruise on his throat. “You will be with me.”

#asks #prompt fill #tw: dubious consent #due to identity issues #i dont want to spoil it but if someone wants a synopsis before reading just message me directly!!!#always be safe with yourself <3 #even if this isnt like really dark i dont wanna oversell t #Obi-Wan leaves the Jedi order Au #sith obi wan #obikin #oh yeah it was supposed to be like 2k max #whoopsie #its a bit rushed at the end because i checked the word count and i was just exasperated #with myself

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dfroza · 2 years

Text

A lie is a serious matter of the heart.

in pride people stand against the Spirit

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 5th chapter of the book of Acts:

Peter: Did you sell the land for such-and-such a price?

Sapphira: Yes, that was the price.

Messenger of the Lord: Go to the temple, and stand up to tell the people the whole message about this way of life from Jesus.

At dawn they did as they were told; they returned to their teaching in the temple.

Temple Police: The prison was secure and locked, and the guards were standing in front of the doors; but when we unlocked the doors, the cell was empty.

The captain of the temple police and the senior priests were completely mystified when they heard this. They had no idea what had happened. Just then, someone arrived with this news:

Temple Messenger: You know those men you put in prison last night? Well, they’re free. At this moment, they’re at it again, teaching our people in the temple!

The Book of Acts, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice:

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 30th chapter of the book of 1st Samuel when David and his army went to fight to retrieve what was stolen:

When David and his men reached Ziklag three days later, they discovered that the Amalekites had raided the desert hill country. They had attacked Ziklag in David’s absence, burned it, and carried away the women and all the other inhabitants whom David had left behind. None of them were killed, but they were taken captive and carried back toward Amalek.

So David and his men arrived in the burned city and found their wives, daughters, and sons gone, taken captive by the Amalekite raiders. And when they saw this, they cried out and wept aloud until they could weep no more. David’s wives, Ahinoam of Jezreel and Abigail, the widow of Nabal of Carmel, were among those carried off.

David, too, was in anguish. Some of his men talked about stoning him because they were so bitter about their families being taken. But David took comfort in the Eternal One, his True God.

He called for the priest, Abiathar, son of Ahimelech, and instructed him to bring the priestly vest, which he did.

David (to the Lord): Should we pursue these raiders? Can we catch them?

Eternal One: Go after them. You will catch them, and you will certainly rescue your families.

So David set out with his 600 men. They came to the wadi Besor, a dry creek bed where he left behind 200 men who were too exhausted to continue the pursuit.

In the open country beyond, some of his soldiers found an Egyptian. They took him to David, fed him, and gave him water. They gave him some fig cake and two clusters of raisins. After the man had eaten, he regained his strength. He had not had food or water for three days and nights.

David: Who are your people? Where are you from?

Egyptian: I am a young man of Egypt who served an Amalekite, but my master left me behind three days ago because I was sick. We had gone raiding in the desert country, against the Cherethites and the territories of Judah and of Caleb, and we burned down the town of Ziklag.

David: Can you lead me to this raiding party?

Egyptian: I will take you to them, if you will swear to me by the True God that you won’t kill me or give me back to my master.

He led David to where the Amalekites were spread out all over the place eating and drinking and dancing, because they had taken such great spoils in their raids against Philistia and Judah. David fought against them from one twilight to the next, and he killed all of them except for 400 young men who escaped on camels.

So David recovered everything that had been taken, including his two wives. Nothing was missing—from the smallest thing to the greatest treasure, none of the sons or daughters, no property of any kind. David brought everything home. David also captured their flocks and herds, which they were driving ahead of other livestock, and the people agreed this would be David’s share of the Amalekites’ property.

David and his people returned to the wadi Besor, where the 200 had remained behind, and those men went out to meet David and all those with him. As David approached, he greeted them. But some of the wicked and greedy ones who had fought alongside David spoke out.

Wicked Men: Because these men didn’t go with us, why should we give them back the things we recovered for them? Sure, let them take back their wives and their children. But that’s all. We’ll keep the rest, and they must leave.

David: My brothers, this is not how we’re going to treat what the Eternal One has returned to us. He saved us and gave us success over the raiding party that sacked our city. Why would anyone agree with you about this matter? The share of the one who fights is the same as the share of the one who looks after the supplies. We all share equally.

In fact, he made this a law and an ordinance, and it remains so in Israel today.

And after David returned to Ziklag, he gave part of the spoil he had taken to his friends who ruled over Judah, with the message, “This is a present for you taken from the enemies of the Eternal.”

These gifts were sent to Bethel, to Ramoth in the desert south, to Jattir, to Aroer, to Siphmoth, to Eshtemoa, to Racal, to the towns of the Jerahmeelites, to the towns of the Kenites, to Hormah, to Bor-ashan, to Athach, and to Hebron—all places where David and his men had lived and traveled.

The Book of 1st Samuel, Chapter 30 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Sunday, november 6 of 2022 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about clinging to hope:

The Scriptures are filled with desperate cries of the heart... "How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day?" (Psalm 13:1-2). "Make haste to help me, O LORD, my salvation!" (Psalm 38:22). "My soul melts away from grief; strengthen me according to your word" (Psalm 119:28). "Answer me quickly, O LORD! My spirit fails! Hide not your face from me, lest I be like those who go down to the pit" (Psalm 143:7). God knows that "hope deferred makes the heart sick" (Prov. 13:12), so there can be no turning to God, no teshuvah, apart from the presence of real hope (תִּקְוָה). Indeed, as the Apostle Paul wrote: "We are saved by hope" (Rom. 8:24).

The late Henri Nouwen wrote, "I am beginning to see that much of praying is grieving." Contrition, grief, and regret for our sins is at the heart of genuine teshuvah. Crying is an expression of utter humility, helplessness, and need. In this life we weep over many things, but we inwardly cry for our Abba, our heavenly Father’s love... "Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are summoning you to where you should go next" (Frederick Buechner).

An old Jewish prayer, uttered somewhat wistfully, begins, "O Lord, I know that Thou wilt help us; but wilt Thou help us *before* Thou wilt help us?" It's not always easy to wait for God, especially when we are in pain, sorrow, or anxiety, but we must never, ever, give up; we must never ever, abandon our heart's longing for ultimate healing. Faith exercises hope in the Reality, Substance, and Being (ὑπόστασις) of the Invisible and is made captive to undying hope (Heb. 11:1). Therefore the Spirit cries out: "Hope to the LORD; be strong and strengthen your heart; and (again) hope to the LORD" (Psalm 27:14). Amen. “Blessed are you, LORD our God, King of the Universe, who walks with the wounded” (שֶׁהוֹלֵךְ עִם הַפְצוּעִים). [Hebrew for Christians]

=========

Psalm 119:28 Hebrew reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm119-28-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm119-28-lesson.pdf

11.4.22 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

November 6, 2022

Christ Our Leader

“For it became him, for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings.” (Hebrews 2:10)

The Lord never asks us to go anywhere that He has not gone before. He is the captain (literally, the “leader”) of our salvation, and we only need follow our divine leader. The same word is used in Hebrews 12:2, where we are exhorted to be “looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith.” “Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps” (1 Peter 2:21). “Him hath God exalted with his right hand to be a Prince [same word] and a Saviour” (Acts 5:31).

The same wonderful truth appears under various figures. He is our Shepherd, for instance, and He says, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish” (John 10:27-28). He also illumines our path. “I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life” (John 8:12). He guides us along the way by His indwelling Holy Spirit. “When he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth....and he will show you things to come” (John 16:13).

With such a dauntless leader, a perfect example, a loving Shepherd, a clear light, and an infallible guide, we are (or should be) happy to follow Him, even if the way sometimes seems steep and hard.

He is the goal and prize at the end of the journey. For Him, Paul said, “I have suffered the loss of all things...that I may win Christ...forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:8, 13-14). HMM

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amymel86 · 3 years

Note

Hello! Do you have any bits of your awesome writing to share for WIP wednesday?😍

I just saw this anon!

And thank you for asking <3

This is a bit more of this as yet untitled 'post-apocalyptic/fertility/modern arranged relationship???' fic. The first bit I posted on tumblr is here and as before, some things are not yet decided (like town names) and things may change...

“Are you sure this is what you want to do, darling?” Her mother’s voice on the telephone was a balm to her soul.

Sansa’s finger brushed the soft vivid petals of the small potted iris she’d bought at the store today. The iris symbolises hope, wisdom and courage among other things and she prays that the pretty purple and yellow bloom will lend her some of those. “I’ve got to try something, Mum,” she says, turning her attention to the two separate bundles of paper in front of her. Two men, two candidates, two different futures. Sansa had filled out all the matching service’s extensive questionnaires and scrutinised all the information she could find on the program. It seemed simple enough – you’re rewarded for helping to repopulate. In turn, the authorities help to pair you with someone who should be a good match dependant on all the information they have about you. The aim is that this new generation of children are raised in the traditional family unit. That had appealed to Sansa. “I can’t seem to find the right guy all on my own anyway,” she said into her phone.

“How do you know it will be safe, though?”

“It says here that my situation will be monitored by my own caseworker. I can call them any time I want. They’re not just going to drop me at the guy’s house and just leave us get on with it.”

“Hmmm... tell me about them? These men that they’ve narrowed down for you.”

“One’s called Waymar, he’s a financial advisor here in the Vale,” Sasna pauses, looking at the man’s photograph on his paperwork before fishing out the other. “And the other is called Jon, he owns a farm in the Reach.”

“None in the north then?” Her mother has been itching to get her back home. “I just wish there was a way to know that either of them were good men, Sansa. That’s all I want for you.”

Sansa put the two photos together. Two possible fathers for her child.

“That’s what I want too.”

***

“Shit! Holy fucking shit!” Jon says to himself, hanging up from his phone-call. “Mance!” he yells, bursting out of his trailer to find the old man. “Mance! It worked! It fucking worked!”

He’d relented. When Mance first put it to him that he should sign up for that weird government breeding program or whatever the fuck it was, he thought the old man’s last brain-cell must’ve fried up in the sun. But if they were going to make it easier for them and it meant Mance could keep the farm (and Jon could carry on living there rent free), then it was worth a shot. So he had relented. He’d filled out what seemed to be a gazillion and one questions about himself, his politics, his views on family and finances and education and fucking... art and shit. These damned government people wanted to know everything about him down to whether he scrunched or folded his toilet paper it seemed. He’d even had to lie. He didn’t like doing it, but there was no way that a fertile was going to pick him if he didn’t. So, he fished out an old photograph – one taken before the bar brawl that lost him his sight in one eye, and he’d also lied his asscheeks off by claiming he had ownership of the farm. He knew – he knew – that these lies are just more things that were going to trip him up one of these days but with Mance urging him on, he’d signed that damn form and offered himself up for the program.

And now a fertile had chosen him.

Him.

Fuck, he might throw up.

This can go one of two ways. Either completely up Shit Creek without a paddle – with his lies and reality crashing down on top of one another, leaving them exposed... or, his fertile somehow looks past his deceits and sticks with him and they-... well, shit, he could actually become a father. No-one becomes parents these days, especially not ‘round here. Fertiles flock to the big cities, to men with bigger pockets, or they work for couples who can afford to pay them off in exchange for a kid or two.

“It worked?” Mance asks, rolling out from under an old Ford pickup that needed a new exhaust. “They sendin’ us a peach?”

Jon shook his head. “They’re not sendin’ you anyone, old man. An’ don’t call her that – they’re-“ Fuck, what did the council call them on all that paperwork? “Reproductively abled.” He’ll have to remember that if he doesn’t want to offend her.

“Well, shit,” Mance grins. “What did I tell ya? Knew your pretty face was good for somethin’!”

Jon frowns. “Ain’t so pretty no more though.” He might have to go get himself a patch to cover his milky, sightless eye. It’s fine most of the time since Mance is the only one he sees unless he’s going to drink at Hobb’s, but he certainly doesn’t want to put off his ferti- reproductively abled friend who’ll be arriving in three weeks.

“She got a name? Your new peach?” Mance asked, earning him a glare.

“Sansa. Sansa Stark.”

Mance grunts and nods. “Sounds fancy.”

Yeah... It did sound kinda fancy he supposes. Jon’s first reaction had been that it was a mighty beautiful name, but now he thinks of it...

“Shame we can’t look her up – see if she’s a beauty or not.”

Jon can’t remember a time when that was an option. He was barely 11 at the highest point of the virus’s hold. Government officials had deemed certain channels on the internet were causing more harm than good by spreading false rumours, incorrect statistics and completely counterintuitive medical advice. The whole thing was shut down, now deemed illegal, only to be reconnected again three years later apparently looking like a foreign landscape from the one before. The internet was no longer a platform to socialise, only government approved informative sites remained. Mance says it’s better this way – that all people used to do was post vain images of themselves for attention anyway.

Jon wouldn’t mind seeing a vain image of Sansa Stark right about now though.

Not that it mattered terribly. As long as they get along and she decides to stick around she could be as ugly as sin. In fact, she probably will be, won’t she? Most pretty ferti- reproductively abled women stick to the cities and its high-fliers.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself. You just gotta keep her happy here and-

“Mance?” he asks, an issue coming to mind. The man grunts in acknowledgement. “Where the fuck is she gonna sleep? She’s not gonna want to stay in my trailer.”

The man grins in response. “I’m glad you asked, boy. I’m glad you asked.”

***

Her caseworker was meant to meet her at the train station. It was quite a drive to the farm and he was meant to pick her up, make sure she’s safe and happy and introduce her to Jon.

That hasn’t happened.

“Please accept my apologies, my dear,” Mr Baelish said down the other end of the phone. “There’s been a mix up with my schedule. We can set you up for the night at a local motel or ask your match to come and get you. Which would you prefer?”

Sansa eyes the dirty looking motel across the street from the train station. Everything here at [[INSERT TOWN NAME]] seems a little on the... rundown side. Maybe the sooner she gets to the farm, the better. Plus, her tummy is all a flutter with anticipation to actually meet Jon. She’d wound up swaying towards Jon as a match due to a few reasons; 1 – he does not live in, around, or anywhere near Harry or his crazy mother. 2 – he owns a farm, and that had conjured up hazy daydreams of idyllic country life. Sansa may enjoy big nights out in the city, drinking her dirty margaritas and feeling her bones vibrate against the base beat in a nightclub, but she knows that’s not what she wants to raise a child around. A child will want to run barefoot through wheat fields and chase chickens and milk cows and –

Let’s just say Sansa has a few ideas and that they all helped to sway her away from city pleasures and towards farmhouse life. And Jon

And last, but not least, reason number 3 – Jon himself. Put side-by-side, his and Waymar’s photographs looked rather similar if truth be told, but Jon won out on something that Sansa just couldn’t describe. Looking at his photograph gave her goosepimples along her forearms because it was like he was looking right back at her. There was something in the depths of his eyes – a kindness? A wit? A strength? She’s not sure, but she couldn’t find the same qualities when she stared at Waymar’s likeness. And his answers too. His questionnaire was full of how he’d like to teach a kid how to walk and ride a bike and fix a... a tractor for heaven’s sake! And so her head was flooded once more of this idyllic life where they got up to watch the dawn stretch over the farmland and they’d grow their own vegetables and she’d bake a pie every day and it would just be perfect.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Sansa glances around the near abandoned train station.

This doesn’t look so perfect right now.

“Could you please arrange for Jon to come and get me, Mr Baelish?”

***

It’s been an hour and fifty-six minutes precisely since Sansa last spoke to Mr Baelish to arrange her match coming to get her. An hour and fifty-six minutes of sitting on the curb, waiting, surrounded by her three suitcases. She’d started off by sitting at the nearby bus stop, purely because it was somewhere to sit and she had a clear view of the road, but after the rude bus driver insisted that if she’s sat there, she must be wanting to hop on his bus, Sansa decided to park her butt on the dusty, sun-baked curb instead. Her legs were beginning to numb and she was starting to get a headache from the sun beaming down on her head. The curls she’d styled into her copper locks have likely lost their hold by now. What a waste. Opposite, on the other side of the street, beside the dirty little motel, there was a tiny bar that advertised the fact that it hosted exotic dancers at the weekends with a blinking neon sign. Next to it was a hunting and fishing ‘emporium’ and beside that was a vacant store with an old dirty sign that read ‘Blouses & More!’. Presumably, the ‘& more’ still wasn’t enough to keep that fine establishment in business in this funny little town. At the end of the block was ‘Tarly’s Drugstore’ and Sansa had been debating with herself whether or not she should haul her suitcases over to go buy a drink and a magazine for about the last hour and fifty-five minutes.

But she hadn’t wanted to miss Jon Snow’s arrival.

Jon Snow, who seemed to be pulling up outside Tarly’s Drugstore in a dusty Ford pickup truck right about now. Sansa stood, expecting him to come right on over considering how long she’d been waiting for him, but she found herself wondering if she’d got it all wrong when she hadn’t caught a good enough look at him before he darted straight into the store.

Sansa is done with waiting. She grabs her smallest case and places it on top of her larger one, trying her darnedest to roll all her luggage across the road in a lady-like fashion. She could feel the eyes of several passers-by on her while her stiletto heels clip across the street. In turn, her own gaze fell to Jon’s cream-coloured truck. Its front bumper looked a little rusty and wonky too. There was a big gash in the leather of the bench seating on the passenger side. On the truck bed, there were a number of items, including a rocking chair that seems to have a couple of spindles on the chair-back missing, and a new double bed mattress wrapped in clear plastic. Sansa was almost done frowning at the state of the vehicle when the over-door bell of the drugstore tinkles.

“Holy shit,” he curses. And yes, it definitely was Jon standing right in front of her. Only... well... his hair was tied into a knot at the back of his head and.... and... he was wearing a black eye patch? “Uh,” he stood there, arms laden with bottles from the store as the gaze from his one good eye quickly darted down her frame and back up again. “You’re her, right? You’re Sansa Stark?”

Sansa found she could only nod, looking him up and down, like he was with her. He was in jeans with oil smears, some tough, heavy looking boots, a somehow pristine white vest and flannel shirt with the arms ripped off.

Speaking of arms...

Gods-damn! Sansa’s focus was momentarily derailed...

“Sorry, I-“ Jon starts before his grey eye drops to the floor and then returns to her, looking a little bashful. “I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.”

Oh boy. He may be wearing an eye patch right now but this man could win over a thousand girls with that smile, Sansa’s sure of it. She resists the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. She’s here to find out if they’re well suited enough to start a family together – she needs to keep her head and think rationally, not allow herself to be swayed by his rugged country boy charm. It was Harry’s looks that enticed her in the first place – and look how well that turned out for her?

“Thank you,” Sansa says, blinking back at him before his words truly hit home. “Didn’t they give you my photograph?”

Jon shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Huh.

“Did they show you mine?”

Sansa bites her lip and gives a nod.

Jon grimaces. “So I guess you weren’t expecting this?” He points to his patch.

Sansa shakes her head. “No... did you... did you do something to injure it?”

Jerking his head, Jon begins rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. “It’s a long story... but... it ain’t gonna get any better, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Oh.”

They stood, staring at one another for a heartbeat or five before Jon sucks in a breath over his teeth and glances down to the bottles he clutched to his chest with one arm. “I tried to get you some things to help you feel at home,” he says, “these are the nicest smellin’ soaps ‘n’ stuff from Tarly’s.”

“Thank you,” Sansa replies, knowing full well that she brought her Highgarden Floral Scents bathroom range with her.

Jon chews on his lip as he eyes her suitcases. “Lemme get those for you,” he offers before dumping the bottles in his arms into the truck bed and reaching for her luggage. Sansa’s heeled shoes seem welded to the spot. Jon notices. Scrubbing both hands down his face in resignation, he takes a step closer to her and Sansa realises for the first time, that he had dirt beneath his fingernails. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “It was a shitty thing for me to do,” he offers, his words low and husky. Sansa feels the timbre of his voice set off a trickle of gooseflesh down her spine. “I’m sorry.”

She blinks at him, momentarily confused.

“About this,” he explains, brows high on his head as he points to his patch. “I shouldn’t have sent that old photo of before this happened, but – fuck – even my ex-girl won’t acknowledge I exist anymore with this and I knew I shoulda been honest about it but-“

“This ex-girl...” Sansa suddenly found herself left with a sour taste in her mouth. “... does she still mean something to you?”

Jon licks at his lips, his eye falling briefly to her own. “No, ma’am,” he shakes his head.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #wip wednesday #but late #oops

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somedrunkpirate · 3 years

Text

Aware || Geraskier Ficlet

Read on ao3 here, or continue below.

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

Jaskier is a mess of bandages.

He’s lying on the bed, limp— asleep. His chest rises with a shallow rhythm that Geralt tracks despite himself.

There are bloody rags all over the floor. More blood in drops leading from the door to the bed. Geralt’s hands are red, cold and wet.

But Jaskier is resting now. The work is done. The stitches; moments of frantic focus, feeling every second as it slips past Geralt’s fingers.

Jaskier is a mess of hidden wounds. Geralt doesn’t know if it is better this way— to not see the slashes in his chest, the long slice across his forehead. White strips of fabric, and then grey and brown when the innkeeper ran out. They’re clean though. She swore on her mother’s grave when Geralt growled out the question. She’d helped him when Jaskier’s body could not be held up alone. Wrinkles set in tense concentration. Quick responses to snapped orders. He doesn’t know when she left. He didn’t notice—

He hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t been watching—

Jaskier is a mess. Fuck. He’ll be so mad when he wakes. Dirt caked in his hair, grime on his arms and hands. His shirt is unsalvageable, his pants stained and scuffed. Geralt doesn’t know for certain if it will wash out, and somehow the lack of answer — because Jaskier will ask — makes his hands clench into fists. He could ask the innkeeper. He should get water to— to clean Jaskier up, just a little, while he rests. He should— He should’ve—

Jaskier is wounded, hurt. It isn’t a novel phenomenon. Trouble smells his presence from a mile away. Monsters, witches, rival bards. “Bait,” Geralt said once, “that’s what you’re good for.” Jaskier had laughed. Geralt doesn’t see the joke in it anymore.

Because it was alright before. He got hurt— he got fixed up, end of story. There is danger to be expected traveling at a Witcher’s side, and Jaskier took the risk with that knowledge at hand. There were moments where Geralt wished him to be gone— to not have come with him, to stay out of the way, stay safe — but it was alright, because Jaskier is stubborn, and would likely find many more dangers on his own accord. At least Geralt could keep him in sight. At least he would be aware of what lay ahead and could prepare for it. There are dangers to wandering with a Witcher, but there is safety too. A sword and unnatural senses, keeping the worst of the world at bay.

So he should’ve seen it coming.

There is nothing to blame— no monster, no wild hunt plot. Jaskier had not gone off the path, followed him despite warnings, or otherwise played the fool and got himself into danger. They had not even been on contract. Just passing through, on their way to a nearby village.

It had been a beautiful summer day and it ended in blood. There is nothing and no one to blame but Geralt.

Jaskier’s head twitches slightly. His breathing hitching once and then again. A soft rumble of a cough. Geralt can see it hurts him— his face contorting in an open way only unconsciousness would allow. But he doesn’t wake from it. Geralt holds still, arms crossed, pressing them against his own chest to keep himself there. He wants to— he wants to go over and check. One more time. Just once. He shouldn’t. He should leave— for a little while. Thank the innkeeper. He doesn’t remember her name.

Geralt stands at the door, stuck and watching until night falls.

Jaskier doesn’t wake.

So he checks. Just once.

A hand laid gently on Jaskier’s cheek. Clammy skin warns of fever.

“It will cool soon,” Geralt murmurs. He lets his finger trail the red blush, feels the shape of it as it pulls in air. In and out. “Just rest, Jaskier. Rest and be well.”

A knock, sharp on the chamber door. Geralt pulls back as if burned. He reaches for his sword, swearing under his breath. Distracted, again. Unaware, again.

“Can I enter?”

The innkeeper.

Geralt takes a breath, sheaths his sword. “Be quiet, he is sleeping.”

She takes it as permission, even though Geralt isn’t sure he meant it that way. The idea of another person here, while Jaskier lies vulnerable, makes his skin itch. Even if she was the one who helped him. As if she is any danger.

The door opens as silently as it can, but the squeaking noise doesn’t stir Jaskier. She pushes it closed with her hip— hands full with a tray of food.

Geralt frowns at it, conflicted. “He’s sleeping.”

The innkeeper frowns back. “This is for you.”

Her words are final. Geralt says nothing. He’s not the one that needs care, but explaining that to her seems a waste of time. He’ll save it for when Jaskier wakes. It shouldn’t be too long now.

“How is he faring?” she is saying, while rounding the bed to put the tray on the side table. Hands freed, she reaches out to pluck on Jaskier’s bandages.

Geralt almost growls at her for it, but he swallows it down. He grits his teeth and says, “Fever coming.”

“Hmm.” Now her fingers are on Jaskier’s face. “Some wet rags will do him well. I’ll get them for you.”

Geralt manages to speak only when she finally steps away from the bed. “Thank you.”

She turns and then looks at him— eyes flicking up and down with a quick intensity — and puts her hands on her hips. “And when I return, you will go wash yourself—”

Geralt is already shaking his head.

“—in the river.” She dips her chin and adds, “This is not an argument, Master Witcher. I allowed your entrance because it was an emergency, but I do not want you tramping dirt and blood all over my establishment. I will watch him while you’re gone, if that is what you’re worried about. Not that he’ll be going anywhere.”

Geralt swallows, his jaw twitching. He wants to refuse, but there is nothing he can say that isn’t I can’t bear to leave him now. There is nothing that she would understand. And he should go. He shouldn’t allow himself to indulge in this. That heavy, sluggish feeling that has been growing within him for months now. The one that rose and rose, filling him up from the inside so that nothing else would fit beside it— not even the sound of a bow being drawn, an arrow being loosed, until it was too late. He should leave it here, sticky and dark, rip himself from it so that his mind is uninhabited by useless thoughts that hold his attention and keep it there like an anchor to a ship, stuck, heavy, impossible to drag along unless the chain is cut through.

So he nods, and steels himself.

The first steps feel like molasses. His ears are yet filled with the sound of Jaskier’s breath, but once he nears the door the volume lessens and with it his chest tightens. He has to check— he must check, just once— but he continues. Pulling himself out of the room, cutting the chain. Until he can only see the slightest hint of Jaskier’s form and then that is gone again.

It hurts to continue walking, but Geralt is used to doing exactly that. So he pushes through until he’s left the inn— left Jaskier— far behind.

New sounds fill his ears. The river, trickling between rocks; nightingales, singing up to the moon; the wind, blowing between leaves and grass. And yet somehow Geralt barely hears any of it. Jaskier’s breathing might be gone, but other sounds take up their place; the clang of sword against sword, the cursed orders of the leading brute, Jaskier’s gasped “Geralt!” just before he slumps to the ground.

Geralt lets them haunt him while he washes. Jaskier’s blood swirling in the crystal clear water. He watches it go and then sits, for just a moment.

Another memory— earlier, just before. Another sound. Laughter, like a chime. Geralt doesn’t remember why anymore.

But it had been beautiful— a beautiful summer day, traveling together. Just passing through. The feeling had been there— everywhere, warming him, being called forward by that laugh until he was filled with it. Geralt had been focused, attention anchored, to Jaskier’s joy.

He hadn’t heard them coming.

It was a simple trap, really. Only a small trench covered by bushes, enough to fit seven men if they laid on their stomach. Bandits, the garden variety. The kind that is exactly stupid enough to attack a Witcher and expect to live.

In all likeliness, the arrow was meant for Geralt. He’d been the true threat— they would have expected Jaskier to co-operate easily. But something had gone wrong, or their bowman just could not aim. And it had hit Jaskier instead.

The laughter cut silent at once.

Geralt had killed all of them, of course. They had attacked together and Geralt had taken them out one by one and then dropped to his knees by Jaskier’s side.

For one endless moment, he’d seen the blood spreading over Jaskier’s chest and thought, It’s his heart. They hit him in his heart.

But it wasn’t. The arrow had struck him, but got stuck on his fucking journal— the foolish words a blessing for once. The blood was coming from slashes that he’d gotten in the fight— Geralt not fast enough to protect him. He’d been hit over the head and knocked out cold. He was bleeding profusely but it wasn’t his heart. There was a chance.

The thing inside Geralt had roared and grown several more sizes in the time it took to reach the village with the unconscious body of Jaskier in his arms. By the time he got him inside, there was a moment where he almost couldn’t let him go— couldn’t stand to put him in the bed. But he had to, so he did.

Geralt breathes in and steps out of the river, pushing the memories away. That was long enough. It is time — he needs — to go back.

Just to check. Just once.

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berriusagi · 4 years

Text

Stomach Bug Ch6

Family Bonding: Dick

Alright this one took a while cause I had to reel in the angst so I didn’t just go full depressing real quick. Hope you all enjoy this chapter let me know your thoughts.

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It was closer to lunchtime than breakfast when Marinette was awoken from her slumber by a soft patting on her cheek. She groaned softly curling up tighter under the thick blankets burying her face into her pillow. “Marinette,” Tikki’s soft voice floated through the blankets, “Wake up, Marinette it’s almost ten.” She said, trying to wake her up.

The door creaked open slowly scaring Tikki to lay frozen on the bed next to Marinette playing the role of a plush doll. Dick walked in making sure to make some noise as he walked to the bed. “Marinette,” he said coming up to the bed gently shaking her shoulder, “Time to wake up,” he said, leaning in trying not to startle her too much.

Marinette groaned, curling up even tighter, turning her face into her pillow trying to ignore Dick to get a bit more sleep. “Go away,” she grumbled, pulling the blankets tighter around her body.

Dick smiled biting his lip to keep from cooing about how cute she was as he stood to his full height. “You can either get up on your own or I can carry you out of here.” He said putting his hands on his hips waiting for her to choose.

Marinette turned to look up at him, her bleary bluebell eyes unfocused as she glared up at him, “You wouldn’t forcibly remove a pregnant woman from the comfort of her own bed would you?” she grumbled her voice scratchy from sleep.

Dick seemed to think it over for a few moments before grinning wide down at her, “No,” he hummed as Marinette turned to relax back into the bed, “but I would forcibly remove a pregnant woman from my brother's bed.” He finished and ripped the blankets off her hoisting her up pointedly ignoring her screams. “Come on sunshine!” he laughed, keeping a tight hold on her as he carried her out of the room.

“Richard Grayson you put me down!” Marinette shrieked trying to get out of his hold.

“Oh coming at me with the full name!” Dick cackled before stopping at the end of the hall and set her down. “Okay, I’ll stop.” He smiled ruffling her hair.

“Do you always do that?” she huffed straightening out her clothes a deep blush starting to spread down her neck as she glared up at Dick, “What do you want?”

“Well…” Dick hummed rocking back and forth on his heels, “the family might have a plan that involves you for the weekend.” He said leaning down to whisper to her.

She raised an eyebrow curious about just what he was getting at, “What plan would that be?”

Dick straightened up looking around to make sure there was no one near to eavesdrop before leaning back down to whisper once more, “There’s no way Little D will let us get to know you without him standing over your shoulder, and so,” he smiled ruffling her hair again, “Tim and Jason might be keeping him distracted so I can get some alone time with you.”

Marinette nodded slowly just looking at him for a long moment, “Please tell me you know just how creepy that sounds.” She said with a blank stare.

Dick laughed standing up straight, “Okay fair, but I do want to get to know you better. Damian kept you a secret for so long; can you blame me for wanting to get to know his girlfriend?” he smiled.

“I suppose not,” she smiled softly shaking her head, “fine what did you want to do then since you want to get to know me?” she asked, letting her shoulders relax as she crossed her arms.

“Well, I thought maybe some yoga would be nice.” He smiled, “it’s good for pregnancy plus will help you stretch after just waking up.” He offered.

Marinette hummed thinking it over for a few quiet moments before nodding, “Okay but let me change first I don’t want to get all sweaty in my pj’s.”

“Great I’ll wait here for you so come meet me when you’re ready and I’ll show you to the gym.” He smiled stepping aside to let her walk back down the hall to Damian’s room so she could get ready.

Marinette nodded and quickly headed back down the hall getting in back in the bedroom and closing the door just as the window on the other side of the room was sliding open. Marinette turned to look at the window wide-eyed, her body tensing up as she stared at the body crouched in the window. Marinette’s eyes darted to the lamp on the desk near her before lunged for it as the body in the window jumped in to stop her.

“It’s me habibti!” Damian shouted, wrapping an arm around her chest to pull her back from the desk before she could grab the lamp to bludgeon him. “I gave Todd the slip but Grayson was standing guard at the end of the hall so I had to take the window.” He said running his fingers through her hair to calm her down as Tikki flew over pressing into Marinette’s cheek assuring her that it was Damian.

Marinette took a moment to calm down her body slowly losing the tension she had built up before slumping back into Damian’s hold. “I thought…” she mumbled squeezing her eyes shut as she took a shaky breath, “I thought you were him.” She mumbled her voice cracking.

Damian hugged her tighter as Tikki softly shushed Marinette trying to calm her down, “He doesn’t know where you are. He can’t just appear, his miraculous was taken, he can’t hurt you.” She said gently stroking Marinette’s cheek as she took several deep breaths to calm her nerves slowly opening her eyes. Damian loosened his hold on her looking down at her as he gently stroked her hair.

“I’m okay.” She mumbled looking into his eyes seeing the concern and doubt hidden in them, “I’m sure I just didn’t expect to see you in a third-story window.” She smiled weakly reaching up to gently tug his hair pulling him down to kiss him gently on the cheek. “You just scared me a bit Dami.”

“I thought you’d still be asleep so I was just going to come to get you but Todd was more annoying than usual.” He said, stepping back to turn her in his arms so he could wrap her up in a proper hug, “Were you just coming back?”

“Dick decided to kidnap me and let me in on your brother's little scheme to get to know me without you interfering.” She hummed resting her head on his chest, “They’re taking turns monopolizing my time, Dick is going to do some yoga with me before lunch while you’re other brothers distract you. Since I was alone last night with Tim I think Jason might try something after lunch.” She said nuzzling into Damian’s chest taking advantage of their hug to be as close to him as she could.

“Do you want me to kidnap you so they can’t do that?” he whispered bowing his head to look into her eyes, “Just say the word and I can sneak us both out.”

Marinette smiled turning her head to kiss him gently, “I want to know you’re brothers and I won’t tell them anything I’m not comfortable with them knowing right now. I say for now we play into their plan and next weekend when I visit we make it as difficult as possible for them to separate us hm?” she hummed waiting for his reply.

Damian nodded giving her another kiss before pulling back, “Then you should start getting ready for your time with Dick and I’ll hide out here for a bit longer until Todd realizes where I am then I’ll take him on a wild goose chance around the manor grounds.” He said dropping down on his bed, “At lunch though I’m getting my time with you.” He added on before lying down.

Marinette giggled walking over leaning over the bed to give him another slow kiss before pulling back, “I look forward to it but I can’t keep your brother waiting much longer he might come looking for me.” She smiled before going to the drawers she saw Damian putting her clothes in and quickly changed into a pair of red leggings and matching sports bra. She had just gotten a black tank top pulled on when Dick knocked on the door.

“Sunshine you didn’t fall back asleep did you?” he called through the door.

“No, I just had a hard time finding my clothes. I didn’t see where Damian put them last night.” She lied as she grabbed a hair tie pulling her hair up into a messy bun as Tikki quickly flew over merging into the elastic as she opened the door smiling up at Dick. “All ready let’s go before Damian manages to give the others the slip.” She said slipping out of the room before Dick could look in and see Damian spread out on his bed relaxing.

~.~.~.~

Marinette and Dick had been working through some simple stretches in the gym taking their time to warm up. Dick unsurprisingly was very flexible easily bending into all different poses with the grace only a trained gymnast could possess.

Marinette, much to Dick’s surprise, was matching him in each pose with just as much ease. She kept her breathing slow as she twisted and stretched into the various poses Dick was demonstrating, her balance was phenomenal and she moved with the grace of a trained gymnast.

“Okay, you’re holding out on me,” Dick chuckled as they settled on the floor for some lighter stretches, “Just where did you learn yoga from cause there’s no way you’re a beginner.”

“Whoever said I was?” Marinette giggled leaning forward to stretch out her back and hamstring, “you just assumed I was a beginner.”

“Okay fair shame on me,” Dick said falling into a side split before leaning forward on his elbows watching Marinette as she stretched gracefully falling into different poses. He whistled low as her body contorted showcasing her flexibility. “I have to know where you learned all this.”

“Back in Paris I was a regular at a parkour gym,” she smiled stretching out into a side splint leaning forward to match Dick, “I also did some gymnastics but I found parkour more fun and versatile.”

“Oh, why not stick with gymnastics?” Dick asked, tilting his head a bit curious, “I would think it’d be better and more controlled.”

“It is a bit more controlled but with parkour, you train your body differently each have their own perks in forms of balance, strength, and technique. However, parkour offered more of what I wanted to learn, gymnastics teaches you how to balance on a beam, how to do flips and swing from uneven bars, and how to put together a floor routine to dazzle the judges.” Marinette hummed lowering herself further onto the mat to stretch out even more, “Parkour teaches you how to move around a city in ways a normal person can’t, it teaches you to look for alternate ways to get from point A to point B. Gymnastics taught me the basics but parkour taught me how to jump from rooftops and not break my neck.”

“Do you often jump from rooftops?” Dick chuckled, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh no not at all,” she giggled her face lighting up, “If I did maybe I wouldn’t always be running late to classes back then but I was so clumsy I’d probably pitch myself off a roof and just be a headline in the news.” She said sitting up and waved her arm in front of her like reading off a billboard, “Local teen tries to be Ladybug, lands face first on crosswalk.”

“Ladybug?” he asked, trying to stifle his chuckles at her dramatics.

“Oh, right not many people outside of Paris really know about her.” She hummed pushing herself up to sit cross-legged and leaned back on her hands, “Paris had heroes for a few years, we had the borders shut down to all heroes for like two maybe three years.”

“Why did they shut the borders down? Wouldn’t it be better to have outside help?” Dick asked, curious.

“In the beginning, people wanted to have others like the Justice League come and help the heroes were just children, they were way in over their heads they had no idea what they were doing so tried to reach out but kept getting rebuffed but they kept trying. That changed after a year, there was a really bad akuma and it caused the heroes to completely stop trying to get outside help especially from supers. They spoke to the mayor and they all agreed to shut down the borders.”

“What happened?” Dick asked sitting up and crossed his legs leaning forward concerned.

Marinette looked away her face looked haunted as she seemed to relive the trauma of the attack after what felt like far too long she turned to meet Dicks eyes, her previously bright bluebells now darkened and sad, “Ladybug and Chat Noir the heroes were just children, they were my age far too young to be fighting a war. The villain, Hawkmoth, held the entire city emotionally hostage all he needed was someone mad and he could turn them into akuma to wreak havoc. Some villains were low level like Mr. Pigeon his who gimmick was just controlling pigeons.”

“I take it the akuma that attacked a year in wasn’t low level?” Dick asked.

“No,” she sighed looking away, “the stronger the negative emotion the stronger the akuma. Hawkmoth preyed on people for having emotions so people would bottle it all up until they just blew up. I don’t remember the akuma it was so bad Paris as a whole chose to forget the incident to both move on and give the victim some form of a fresh start.”

“We don’t blame the akuma victims for what happened to them once the connection with Hawkmoth is made it is next to impossible to resist.” She added looking over at Dick, “No one blames them for what happened but it’s still a terrifying memory. Ladybug and Chat Noir almost lost, Ladybug was badly injured and was taken out of commission for a month after the battle luckily if you can really call it that, Hawkmoth was shaken by the akuma enough to back away for a month as well.”

Marinette took a deep breath pulling her knees to her chest resting her chin atop her knees closing her eyes to ground herself. Dick moved closer, sitting behind her gently hugging her small frame to his chest trying to offer some comfort, “Take your time sunshine, you don’t have to tell me anymore if you don’t want to.”

Marinette leaned back into his chest blinking away tears, “The miraculous grant powers, they’re basically magical jewelry that grants the wearer a magical girl-like transformation and powers. The Black Cat miraculous which represents bad luck grants the power of cataclysm. Anything Chat Noir touched while powered up would instantly be destroyed. It was useful in rescue; he could completely disintegrate anything trapping civilians or use it to destroy the akuma items.” She said closing her eyes.

“What about Ladybug?” Dick asked resting his chin atop her head gently, rocking her to help soothe her.

“Ladybug I guess had two powers, she had Lucky Charm that allowed her to create whatever she needed out of nothing. It’s what won the akuma fights, just random objects used to somehow cause the downfall of the akuma.” She smiled softly at the memory, “the second was the Miraculous Cure, Ladybug would throw her lucky charm up and it would set in motion fixing everything that was destroyed by the miraculous. Buildings that were leveled, cars that were crushed, even the lives lost during the battle it was all reversed.”

“That sounds a little too good to be true,” Dick said leaning back a bit to look down at Marinette.

“Most would argue that it is,” she sighed looking up at him patting his arm as she moved to stand up, “It fixes everything and to inanimate objects, that’s all fine because it’s just stone or wood. To the living, however, it doesn’t erase the experience, it doesn't make you forget that you experienced death. Many people died by the hands of akumas, those scars don’t fade just because of the Miraculous Cure.”

Dick sat there just watching Marinette as she stretched out her back and arms, “Sunshine,” he asked waiting for her hum of acknowledgment, “Did you ever die from an akuma attack?”

“No, but I did come close by the akuma that caused us to shut down our borders. I’m one of the lucky few to have never experienced death by an akuma.” She said looking down at him, “After that akuma our heroes spoke to the mayor and had the borders shut down because that akuma was an untrained civilian and they caused a lot of damage and nearly killed our heroes. Imagine what someone like Superman or Wonder Woman could do if they got akumatized.”

Dick visibly shuddered at the thought of two supers turning evil by some emotional leech, “That would not end well at all.” He muttered.

“Exactly so the heroes stopped trying to reach out and instead closed the borders. They didn’t make it a huge international issue since if you tell someone they can’t do something then that’s all they’re going to do. Instead, I believe they just made it incredibly hard for any known supers and heroes to get into Paris. If they could reroute them they would.”

“You know a lot about all this.” Dick hummed getting to his feet, “you hiding something from us?”

“Oh please,” she giggled waving him off, “My friends back in Paris a good number of them used to be temporary heroes before they all got revealed. One of them Chloe had the bee miraculous and she’s the daughter of the mayor. Naturally, when we became friends I got all the info I needed to know about the Miraculous Team.” She smiled.

“You seem to change moods quite quickly not sure if that’s normal.” Dick chuckled, leaning back to stretch out his back a bit.

“Oh you know it’s just the trauma.” She giggled following along with his stretch trying to loosen up her tensed muscles. “You wanted to get to know me better so enough talk of the old Paris superheroes.”

“They’re so fascinating though usually if a new hero is out there it’s all over the news. How did you even find out your friends were miraculous holders? I feel like that’d be something you’d keep tightly under lock and key.” Dick asked

“It was until another akuma attack Chloe was akumatized and used her powers to basically control Paris citizens and instructed anyone who was a miraculous holder to step forward and reveal themselves. Chloe revealed herself to be the holder of the Bee Miraculous and other friends of mine stepped forward revealing themselves as well.” Marinette sighed straightening up, “It was a mess so everyone save for Ladybug and Chat Noir had to be retired.”

“That must have made the fight harder huh?” Dick winced straightening up as well as a soft knock was heard. Both turned to see Alfred standing in the doorway.

“Afternoon, Master Dick, Miss Marinette lunch will be served shortly if you’d like to join us,” Alfred said, giving a small bow before leaving the room.

“Well guess we should get going we can talk more later.” Marinette smiled up at Dick as she went to follow Alfred to the kitchen.

Dick watched her leave tilting his head, “I’ll see if Tim can find anything on the Miraculous Team when she leaves.” He muttered before following her.

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Marinette and Dick had just gotten settled at the table when the door was thrown open by Tim in a dead sprint trying to avoid Jason’s grasp. “Mari!” he shouted, vaulting over the table to stand behind her chair as Jason skidded to a stop on the other side of the table.

“Hand him over Pixie.” Jason glared keeping a steady stare on Tim watching him closely.

“What happened?” Marinette asked, looking between the two older men.

“It’s not my fault he gave you the slip!” Tim shouted, “Maybe you should be better at your job.”

“Oh, it is on replacement,” Jason growled moving to vault over the table before Dick held him back.

“Jason please calm down what happened?” Marinette asked, getting to her feet looking a mix of amused and confused.

“He lost Demon Spawn!” Jason shouted trying to get at Tim.

“No one lost me.” Damian deadpanned walking in still in the sweats and tank top he was working out in before, “I’m just better at hiding than all of you. Hello, Habibti, did you sleep well?” he asked, coming over to kiss her cheek.

“Yes, and the yoga with Dick was a lot of fun too.” She smiled a soft blush dusting across her cheeks, “Why were you hiding from your brothers?”

“Because I’d quite like to keep my brain cells thank you, staying around them will only cause them to die.” Damian deadpanned shooing Tim away from Marinette as he took a seat beside her.

“Dami don’t be rude.” Marinette gasped gently, swatting at his arm.

“Habibti, if you had nearly as many siblings as me you’d be saying the same.” Damian deadpanned as he grabbed the veggie wrap Alfred had prepared for him.

“Perhaps but as I don’t I will instead tell you that it’s rude to be mean to your brothers.” She said picking up her own wrap.

“By all means feel free to take them.” Damian chuckled.

“I swear it’s creepy how he changes around her.” Jason shuddered as they all took their seat to tuck into their own meals.

Bruce came in a bit later picking up his plate and greeting Marinette before he left to return to his office, “Does he normally eat his lunch in his office?” Marinette asked once Bruce was gone.

“Only when he’s busy normally he’ll join us for meals.” Dick smiled as he finished his food.

She nodded and finished her food before leaning back slowly drinking her water so as not to upset her stomach. She watched as Damian and his brothers talked or really fought with each other throwing out teasing ribs, vaguely veiled threats, and every so often one would have to hold back another from jumping over the table.

Marinette giggled watching them all and held Damian’s hand under the table as he finished his own lunch and continued with his good-natured argument with Tim. Though they both knew of the general plan to keep them separated they still played into it. When Tim threw out a thinly veiled jab at Damian’s physical skills they took the chance for Damian to launch himself over the table at Tim.

Tim let out a shout diving out of the way and ran laughing loudly as Dick tore out of the room chasing Damian down to prevent a potential murder. What was once five was now just two leaving Jason and Marinette alone with Alfred as he cleaned up the dishes. The shouts echoed down the hall as Damian fought with Dick to get at Tim until there was a loud slam further down the hall.

“Such a lively bunch.” Marinette giggled as it started to quiet down now that the three were locked away elsewhere.

“Yeah,” Jason nodded before turning to look at Marinette, “You ever shoot a gun before?”

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@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth @eliza-bich

#daminette #damianette #damidad #mominette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #teen pregnancy #stomach bug

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marvelsbetch · 3 years

Text

Peter Parker’s field trip. Part 1

Warnings: Trans!Peter, Spidypool, sex references, superfamily, transphobia, supportive avengers

Tony POV

I was in my lab waiting for Peter, my newly adopted son, to come home from school when Friday told me I had an email from Peters school. Turning to my phone I opened the email and was completely annoyed. The email read

'Dear Parent/Carer of Patricia Parker,

We are delighted to inform you that we have a surprise field trip for the student to none other than Stark Laboratories. The trip with be a residential starting on March 7th with a trip to Stark Tower, staying the night there with Mr Tony Stark-Rodgers and then having a trip to the Avengers Tower where we will have the opportunity to meet the Avengers and ask them questions. This is a once in a life time opportunity and we hope you allow your daughter to attend. Also, we would like to keep the trip as a surprise for the student so we urge you not to tell them the destinations of the trip.

Yours Sincerely,

Mrs Robbins.'

I was livid. My child Peter is a boy. I do not have a daughter I have a son. I couldn't believe the nerve of this teacher so I stormed out of my lab and in to the main living area of the penthouse and saw my handsome husband lay on the couch watching tv. He looked so calm and collected but I feel this might change.

"Honey, I just got this email from Peters school that I think you should have a look at." I told him handing him my phone.

He looked confused at first but then the anger set in and by time my phone was placed back in my hand he had an evil smirk on his face. I had an idea of why he had that smirk but just to be sure I asked him,

"What's the smirk for?" I asked.

"Tell the teacher our son can go on the trip while I make a few phone calls. Nobody purposely misgenders my son and gets away with it." He is trusted before grabbing his cell phone and walking down the corridor to one of the training room. Probably going to blow off a little steam and anger. Might watch in a little while.

After a second I simply responded to the email stating'

I as Peters legal guardian allow my son to attend this field trip. Is there any additional information that we should be aware of?' It seemed like the appropriate response.

In all honesty I had Pepper invite the school to the towers as a reward for how well they did at the decathlon competition. I was not expecting to receive an email like this.

-5 hours later-

Peter arrived home shortly after the email incident and was greeted to everyone being in the room. Everyone being Me, Cap, Bucky, Nat, Banner, Pepper, Sam, T'Challa, Shuri, Rhodey, Wanda, Vision, Thor, Loki, Clint and Strange along with the Guardians on a Skype call on the tv. We told him it was a spur of the moment gathering as well all missed each other, not an entire lie, but in reality we were plotting to a) embarrass Peter as much as possible on the field trip and b) get back at the teacher for what they did.

We decided to order enough pizza for an entire 3rd world country and discuss Peter's school life as we ate.

"So Peter, has anyone been giving you trouble lately in School? You can tell us the truth." Steve, Peter's other father and my husband, asked.

"No everything just fine." He terribly lied.

"Come on kid. I've known you for almost two years now, don't try and lie. If there's anyone giving you any type of shit for whatever reason please know that you can tell us." I explained to him all of a sudden getting very serious. I could see him fighting with himself on weather to tell us something or not but decided not to as he then said he had homework to do and went to his room.

"So, he's either lying or the teacher isn't as bad as we think." Loki observed.

"No, he was lying. I could feel his conflict and pain in remembrance of what people have said to him. I'm not one for violence but someone needs to pay for what he's been dealing with." Wanda told us with tears in her eyes.

Cap and Barton walked over to comfort her and hopefully stop her crying. My blood started boiling, Wanda was a strong person and if what Peter's going through brings her to tears then that's a lot for one person to go through. What else has this teacher or student done? Why won't he tell us? Does he not trust us? That last question broke my heart.

"Baby, you okay?" I hear Steve ask moving towards me and holding both my hands in his.

"No. I'm pissed. I'm pissed at any one who hurt my son. I'm pissed at us for not making sure he knows he can talk to us. And I'm pissed at the world for making his go through all of this." I told him with tears coming to my eyes.

Steve pulled me close to my chest and held me tight. He stroked his hands through my hair as he tried to calm me down. I could tell he was mad to, we all were, but he was trying to hold it in despite everyone being here to essentially punish this teacher was his idea. Embarrassing Peter was mine.

"Right, so what do we do about this? I'm not letting anyone hurt my nephew and get away with it." Nat said sitting up and pulling a knife from who knows where to sharped her nails. That women scares me so much.

"How about we just drop in during the day and make sure one of us is always with him. If he has one of us always there and we make it apparent that we know and support him the I doubt even someone as bigoted as his teacher is going to say something. Then we can embarrass him when we're with him." Sam suggested.

"I like that. Where are we all going to be stationed?" Loki asked.

"Well if I speak to the tour guide I could get Banner to give them a lesson on Gamma radiation as the first. Then, Barton or somebody drops in. After that they will be taken to a different lab with Shuri and T'Challa. By that time it should be lunch where Thor and Loki could drop in and the guardians land near the level 7 outside cafeteria. Then we can have Sam drop some stuff from above like a water balloon or something and Bucky bake his favourite cookies to bring to him. After Lunch they're looking around some other labs where Shuri could also be along with Banner. I think they're also going to be visiting the training rooms so Nat, Cap, Bucky and T'Challa could be fighting and Wanda, Vision and Strange could be training their magic." I suggested feeling better now that we were planning this.

March 6th

-Peter's POV-

I was in Chemistry faintly heading the teacher, Mrs Robbins, drone on and on about ionic bonding and how it differs to covalent bonding. It was something I already knew so I didn't need to listen until Ned started hitting my arm. Turning to look at him he simply nodded to the direction of the teacher. I turned around just to catch two words that made my heart drop.

"-Field trip!" Our teacher cheered with a big smile on her face.

Field trip? To where and why?

"That's right, we have organised a surprise field trip for you all as a reward for how well you've all done on your recent exams. Only the top 20 student of the entire school will have the privilege of going. The destination will be a surprise but I will say to bring an overnight bag and money for food and such. You're parents have already got an email consenting for your attendance and the bus will be leaving at 8am tomorrow so don't be late." She further explained.

The whole surprise field trip thing made me nervous beyond all belief. I may not technically be a Parker anymore but the luck definitely followed me and the idea of having to go on an overnight field trip made me terrified. Also, our parents got an email. This means that either Dad (Tony) or Pops (Steve) knew about this probably weeks ago and didn't tell me, this only fulled my anxiety.

Soon the bell went signalling the end of the day and our temporary liberation from this educational prison. On the way out Mrs Robins pulled me aside. It confused me at first until she put our most recent test infront of me. My name circled in big red circles, I know what's about to happen.

"Patricia, you must stop this. You're name is not Peter, you're not a boy. You were born a girl and therefore are, there is no picking and choosing with what God gave you. You must understand this by now. This little joke has gone too far that you're name has been requested to change on our register. Get it through you're head that you are not a boy and you will go to hell for thinking otherwise. One more incident like this and you'll have detention for the rest of the year. Got it?" She basically shouted at me pointing to my circled name on the test.

"No. My name is Peter and I am a boy, I don't care what God assigned me because he got it wrong. I am a boy and my name is Peter as we have gotten it legally changed." I rebutted getting impatient with her ignorance.

"Don't speak to me like that young man. You have no right to change Gods idea and destiny for you. Just thing, you're a girl meaning you can have kids and spread God's message to others and have many kids. Just what God planned for all women." She told me trying to sound sweet but came off and incredibly patronising.

At this point I was too angry to listen to her bulls**t (Gotta keep it Steve friendly people) so I stormed out the room. She started yelling for me to come back to the classroom but I didn't listen and continued walking till I reached the car Happy was in to take me home.

I got in the car and started telling Happy about my day while playing classic songs on my phone such as Highway to Hell, You gave love a bad name and Living on a Prayer. He pretended like he didn't care but I could tell he was listening and hanging onto every word I was saying. I love that about Happy, he acts like he doesn't care but in reality he does and he does a lot. He once caught Flash saying stuff about me and threatened to hit him with the car, he almost did as well but we were running late to a meeting I had to go to with Dad. Of course that didn't stop Flash as he still likes to torment me daily but he now does it more secretly making it more bearable.

We soon made it home and I found all of my dysfunctional family,minus the guardians who were on a Skype call, sat in the living room watching a movie on the tv. I quickly set my bag down on the kitchen island and settled right next to Tony (Dad) who was cuddling Cap (Pops). Everyone was asking me questions about my day and school life in general. They focused mostly on if people were bullying on me. It worried me a little because as much as I know I can go to them, I don't want to because I know that if I tell them everything that's happened they'll kill people and I don't want that for my family. Half of them only just got pardoned and I don't want the governments to revoke that.

"Sorry guys but I got homework. The pizza was delicious, is it okay if I invite Wade around?" I pleaded with Pops knowing he's more likely to say yes.

"Yes but that door stays open hound man. Do I make myself clear?" Pops asked in a stern voice.

"Crystal." I responded before taking out my phone to call Wade, grabbed my bag and walked to my room.

"Hey Baby Boy, what's up?" Wade asked after picking up his phone.

"Not much, Pops said you could come around." I told him making him slightly squeal.

"Okay Baby Boy, I'll be there in 10 minutes. I love you." Wade informed.

"I love you to Babe." I said before hanging up with a smile on my face.

-10 minutes later-

I was sat at my desk finishing my algebra homework when I heard someone knock on the window. Knowing it was Wade I turned with a smile on my face and let him in.

"Hey Baby Boy, how was your day?" Wade asked making himself comfortable on my bed.

"It was fine, quite boring if I'm honest. We did get told about this residential field trip tomorrow though. Sorry I won't be here for most of the weekend. I'm sure my Dads will love having you around." I joked sitting on his lap and cuddling into his chest.

"It's fine Pete. I'll just have to savour our time together now." He said wiggling his eyebrows and kissing me passionately.

"My Pops said to keep the door open." I told him pulling away with a massive blush spread across my cheeks.

"Does that rule apply to your en-suite?" Wade asked.

"I don't believe so." I answered getting up from his lap and dragging him into my en-suite, which is where we stayed for the rest of the night.

To be continued...

#adopted peter parker #bi peter parker #gay peter parker #peter parker #spidypool #superfamily #supportive avengers #gay steve rodgers #steve x tony #steveony #ironfam #lqbtq #lgbt pride #trans peter parker #wade wilson #deadpool #pansexual deadpool #field trip #peter parker field trip

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tangledstarlight · 3 years

Text

with you i’d dance in a storm in my best dress

this is a super month delayed prompt from @ourstarscollided (”holding hands while running through the rain” for our favourite soulmates, Julie and Luke!”) i will accept the super late fees, this is way over the 3-5 businesses days I promised ghfj anyway! mhwa enjoy 💜

julie and luke go on a first date, it really is as simple as that.

(also on ao3, here)

The day that Luke had asked her out, Julie spilt half her coffee on his shoes and the other half on her maths homework. In her head the conversation had gone a little like this:

“Hey Julie do you uh, wanna go see the new How to Train Your Dragon with me tomorrow?”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds cool. Reggie loves those films.”

“Oh I uh, mean just–– just me. You and me. Us. Just. The two of us.”

“Like –– a date?”

“Yeah?”

And then she’d knocked her cup over. Coffee spreading across the library table and onto Luke’s shoes and seeping into the carpet. Their school librarian had come storming over at Julie’s loud exclamation and ushered them both out of the building with a glare.

In reality there had been a lot of awkward pausing and wide eyed staring and Luke rubbing at the back of his neck as he waited for her to answer and then mumbled apologies and burning cheeks.

So, it was worse. For her at least.

But she prefers the version in her head with the lack of stuttering and blushing, so that’s what she tells Flynn an hour later as she lies on her bed, phone pressed to her ear as she stares at her fairy lights.

“So? What did you say?” Flynn’s voice filters through the phone and Julie can practically hear the giddy edge to it.

“I uh—” she pauses, chewing on her bottom lip as her mind flashes back to them standing in the parking lot of the school, Julie trying to shove coffee stained sheets of paper into her bag and Luke cringing at the squelching sound his shoes made with every step.

He had opened his mouth to say something — Julie doesn’t know what, because her heart and brain had finally caught up by then and where on the same page as she blurted out a, “Yes! To the uh, the movie. And the— the date. If—if that’s still—”

“No! I mean, yes, I mean yeah I—” he stuttered, sucking in a breath before smiling at her, shy and sweet. “Yes I still want to. Have to do worse than spill coffee on my shoes to scare me off, Molina.” And he’d bitten his bottom lip slightly as he’d laughed, and Julie had blushed a little more at the earnest tone in his voice.

“I said yes,” she whispers into the phone, because a part of her is still sitting in the library thinking she’s completely misheard him and doesn’t want to pop this little bubble quite yet.

“Jules!” Flynn squeals and Julie has to pull her phone away from her ear a little to avoid permanent damage, “You’re going on a date with Luke! This is big. This is huge. Okay, what time are you meeting him? We have to find you the perfect outfit and I need a time scale here.”

She lets the bubble pop, lets Flynn’s excitement stoke her own until she’s off her bed and rooting through her wardrobe and making plans for what time Flynn should come over tomorrow to help her get ready. By the time they say goodbye and hang up, Julie is smiling and barely containing her excitement.

Because see, she’s kind of had a huge massive crush on Luke since they were kids. It had come and gone over the years — seeing him shove two whole slices of pizza in his mouth at the age of eleven had done a lot to kill the crush for a while. But then it was freshman year and he’d run into music class late with the biggest smile on his face as he declared he’d finally perfected part of his guitar solo for their assignment. Don’t ask Julie why that had been the moment the crush came back in full force, because she doesn’t know.

They’d always sort of been friends, the way you’re sort of friends with everyone you’ve known since kindergarten, where you’ve been to all their birthday parties and know all the cheesy roles they’ve played in school plays. Julie doesn’t know when they went from being casual friends who said hi in the hallway to being friends and talking everyday.

(That’s not strictly true, Julie knows it happened sometime between her mom dying and music sounding like roaring in her ears and almost being kicked from the music program and the boys joining her on stage without hesitation to help her keep her place. If she really had to pinpoint it, it would be the day he found her crying at a piano in an unused music room and had closed the blinds, locked the door and just sat with her.)

She knows that there’s been— moments over the last few months. Moments where she catches him looking at her, moments where she swears he blushes when she looks at him, moments where their hugs have lasted just a few seconds too long. But Julie hadn’t ever really thought they meant anything. At least not to him. (To her they meant a lot.)

Because he was Luke, with his charming smile and sleeveless shirts and rockstar image, and she was just Julie and they were just friends and why would he ever look at her as anything else?

All she knows is that now they were juniors and in a band and best friends and he’d asked her out on a date.

Julie collapses onto her bed, head hitting her pillows and hair flying into her face as the thought hits her fully, “Holy shit,” she whispers, clutching a pillow to her chest and finally, finally lets a giddy smile take over her face.

She’s going on a date with Luke Patterson and it’s utterly terrifying. He’s one of her best friends, what happens if it goes terribly? Do they have to stop being friends? Do they enter an awkward few months where they don’t know how to act around each other? Oh god maybe this was a terrible idea. Maybe she should text him and fake an illness. Maybe chicken pox, the chances of him remembering her having them when she was nine have got to be pretty low.

But, he’d asked her out with that silly little nervous habit of rubbing at the back of his neck and there’s been all the little moments over the last fews months and — it’s Luke. Julie blows out a breath and raises her pillow a little higher to tuck under her chin.

She’s going to go on a date with Luke and it’s terrifying, but it’s the kind of terrifying she feels whenever she gets up on a stage by herself to perform a new song. It’s the kind of terrifying that fills her with excitement too. She decides to focus on the excitement.

Julie manages to push aside all her worries and fears and nerves all day and most of the afternoon when Flynn shows up, lunch in one hand and make up bag in the other. She even manages to forget about it when she’s holding her hair up and letting it drop back down her back, eyebrows raised at Flynn as they try to decide what to do with it. She manages to forget all about her fears as they deliberate between a dress or jeans and argue over what’s considered more casual.

And then Flynn leaves with an air kiss and a thumbs up and Julie is left at the top of the stairs tucking her hair behind her ears and pulling it back as she tilts her head at herself in the mirror. Objectively Julie knows she’s okay looking, knows that her family has always told her she’s beautiful and that Flynn hadn’t even hesitated to say she looked gorgeous before leaving.

But well, they had to say stuff like that. They were her family. Luke was...Julie didn’t know what Luke was right now, but she knew he was important — now and forever — and maybe it made her shallow but she wanted him to think she looked pretty.

Her nerves don't set back in until there’s a knock at her door and Carlos is running for it before she can stop him.

“Luke,” is all she can hear from the top of the stairs, and though Carlos is blocking most of her view she can just make out the cuffs of jeans and a pair of vans. She wonders if they’re still squeaking when he walks.

“Hey Carlos can I—” the sound of Luke’s voice sends a flurry of butterflies into her stomach and she sucks in a breath to try and settle her nerves. Why is she even nervous? It’s Luke! They’ve hung out hundreds of times before, they’re friends, they’re going on a date. Oh god. Okay.

Julie brushes her hands down the skirt of her dress and blows out a breath as she looks at herself in the mirror one last time. They’re just going for food and to see a movie. Something they’ve done hundreds of times before. It’s casual. It’s why she’d opted to wear her favourite sneakers instead of the heels Flynn has dug out of her closet. It’s a date, but it’s a casual date. As long as she keeps telling herself that she’ll be fine.

“Get it together,” she whispers to herself, tucking a curl behind her ear and nodding once. She can do this.

It’s just Luke.

She stops halfway down the stairs at the sight of her dad and brother talking to Luke in the doorway. Luke, who’s wearing a dark blue button down and jeans without rips and–– oh god he’s bought her flowers. Either she makes a noise or he’d been glancing up at the stairs because he’s looking at her, eyes a little wide with a soft smile that makes heat rush to her cheeks. Ducking her head, Julie descends the last few steps until she’s stood in front of him, her dad and brother stepping back to watch them. Fuck.

“You look—”

“—are those—”

They both start at the same time and Julie giggles while Luke rubs at the back of his neck with his free hand.

“You look really nice and um—” he hesitates, eyes briefly glancing over her shoulder where she can only assume her family are watching this awkwardness unfold. “These are for you.”

He holds the flowers out towards her, a collection of pale purples and bright yellows, and if she had time right now she’d try to name each of them. But she can feel her dad and brother still watching them and there’s a red flush starting to show up on Luke’s cheekbones.

They really need to get out of her house before one of them turns totally red.

“Thank you they’re… they’re really pretty,” she turns around, handing the flowers to her dad and quickly turning back, picking her purse and phone up from the table by the door, “Can you put them in water for me please? Okay, bye!”

They make it through the door and almost to the porch steps before her dad is at the door calling out to them, “No later than 10:30!”

“I know dad!”

An awkward silence falls over them as they walk to his car and Julie tries desperately to come up with something to say, finally blurting out, “You’re wearing sleeves.”

Her hands wave at his shoulders and biceps covered in fabric. Julie’s not sure when the last time was that she’d seen his arms so covered. Maybe the winter showcase last year when Reggie had said they needed to dress up and forced him into a suit jacket. But that hadn’t been voluntary.

“My mom said I couldn’t go on a date with my shoulders showing. Apparently it would be rude?” He phrases it like a question, an eyebrow raised as he looks at her, as if she’d have an opinion on his bare shoulders being rude or not. She didn’t know date etiquette. Was it rude?

“I wouldn’t have been personally offended by them,” she shrugs, shooting him a small smile and feeling grateful when he laughs.

This is fine, they’re going to be fine. They just have to get over this awkward start and weirdly charged silences. Maybe it was a good job they were seeing a movie first, no chance for awkward conversation as they tried to find their footing. Julie blows out a breath and smiles up at him.

“So, how annoyed is Reggie that we’re seeing this without him?”

And it's like every other time they've hung out, only her fingers keep brushing against his and he keeps looking at her shyly from the corner of his eye while he drives. Its the same but it's different but Julie thinks it's maybe a good kind of different.

By the time they leave the movie theatre, hands brushing as they walk side by side, Julie’s feeling a little more settled in their date. Or a little more settled in herself at least.

Settled in the shy glances and shared popcorn and the way Luke had left his hand palm up on the arm rest between them and she’d felt brave enough during the second half of the film to lay hers on top.

She was feeling that much more confident about their date that, as they walked towards the entrance talking about the film, she was seconds away from closing the gap between their brushing hands and linking their fingers together. Which is of course when they both notice it’s raining.

In LA. Which, well Julie doesn’t know if she believes in signs or omens, but she’s pretty sure this classes as one. And she's not sure if it's a good or bad one.

“Fuck,” Luke mutters as he looks outside at the falling rain before looking down at her, a small furrow between his brows. The two of them both clearly remembering how he’d parked six blocks away because it was cheaper. And how neither of them have a coat or a jacket or even a bag worth holding over her hair.

“Guess we’re going to have to run,” she shrugs, shooting him a quick smile before making sure her phone is stashed safely in her purse.

“Or we could wait it out?”

“What? Scared of a little rain?” she teases, eyebrow quirked as she looks up at him.

“No,” he huffs out a laugh, one hand coming up to tug playfully at one of her curls letting it stretch out before springing back, his hand left hovering next to her shoulder, “But your hair?”

Her eyes soften a little as she shrugs one shoulder — and maybe it’s the one under his hand, and maybe she only does it so his palm and fingers will brush against the exposed skin of where her neck meets shoulder and maybe she stands a little awkwardly to prolong that concat. It’s all maybes. There’s no proof that’s why she does it — and smiles, “I was going to wash it tomorrow anyway. Come on Patterson, I bet if we run fast enough we can dodge the raindrops.”

“Not to sound like Alex but I don’t think that’s possible,” he bites his bottom lip slightly as he laughs and if she was feeling a little braver right now, Julie thinks she might have kissed him. But she’s not feeling brave enough for that. “You sure you don’t want to wait it out?”

“You ready to run?” She asks instead, turning towards the doors and holding her hand out to him. Maybe she’s not brave enough to kiss him, but holding his hand as they run through the rain? That feels doable.

She wiggles her fingers up at him a dare, a challenge, a question, all wrapped up together as she waits to see if he’ll take her hand. And she only has to wait a heartbeat before his palm is slapping down on hers, fingers slotting between each other and he’s tugging her towards the door.

“Oh I’m ready to run. I’m not sure you’re ready to keep up.”

He doesn’t give her a chance to respond before he’s pulling open the door and Julie is squealing as the first drops of rain hit her head and splash against her bare shins.

“Thought you knew how to dodge raindrops,” Luke teases as he pulls her along and Julie squeezes his hand before tugging him towards a puddle in the pavement to kick water up at him.

The indigent squeak of protest that leaves his lips makes her laugh in response, that only grows at the pout on his lips as he pulls at their joint hands until she has to stumble away from the puddle and into his side. And Luke lifts his arm until she gets the idea of ducking under it until her back is against his front and his arms wrap around her waist, picking her up off the ground and laughing into her hair at the startled squeak she makes, fingers cold even through her dress as he carries her away from the puddle with a huff of breath in her ear. “Oh I’m going to get you back for that.”

She doesn’t doubt him, and is kind of giddy in her excitement about what he might do. There’s something about the rain falling around them and the way it makes the empty streets and parking lots look that makes her forget she was ever worried in the first place.

Because she’s Julie and he’s Luke and she forgets sometimes, that things that are supposed to be scary are easy with him. The first time she sang after her mom, the first time she drove without her dad, the first time she snuck out her bedroom window. She feels like she can do anything as long as he’s by her side. She feels pretty fearless.

The second her feet hit the ground again she turns around his arms, trailing her own cold fingers up his wrists and forearms to circle around his biceps, tucking her fingers under the hems of his shirts sleeves and chooses to decide the shiver that runs through him is due to the rain that’s starting to slow around them and not the way she’s starting tracing idle patterns into his warm skin.

“How are you going to get me back?” She whispers, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks up at him. At the way the rain has plastered his hair across his forehead, at how his eyes dart from her lips to her eyes and back again.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” he says softly and she feels his fingers flex against her back and Julie definitely can’t blame the shiver that runs through her on the rain or the cold air because while they’ve been staring at each other it’s stopped raining and now they’re just standing in a parking lot in each other arms.

If it wasn’t quickly becoming her favourite place she might feel a little more embarrassed.

“Jules,” he whispers and she’s momentarily distracted by the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips that she almost misses his next words, “I uh I had a plan. We were going to have a picnic in that park you like? But I— well. I didn’t plan for the rain.”

She blinks at him, pulling her thoughts away from his lips and how they’d feel against hers and back to the moment and— a laugh bubbles past her lips, leaning her forehead against his shoulder as she lets his words fully register. She can feel a chuckle rumble through him where she’s pressed against his chest and his fingers dig slightly into her sides.

“In my defence, it’s LA. No one ever plans for rain,” he mutters into her hair and that makes her laugh again.

Pulling back just enough to look at his face she shakes her head at him, ignoring the way droplets of water fall down her back from her hair as teases him, “Wow and here was me thinking you’d prepared for everything.”

“If you don’t hold it against me I promise to prepare for rain for our next date,” Luke says it casually, but his fingers have started tapping lightly on her back and his eyes are wide and hopeful, looking so much like he had the day before that Julie can’t stop the smile that pulls at her lips.

“If you don’t show up with umbrellas and raincoats I’ll never trust you again,” even as she says the words she knows they’re a lie. Julie’s pretty sure there’s no one she trusts more. Fingers tapping against his biceps she offers, “We can eat in your car?”

“Mhm sounds like a plan,” he agrees but makes no move to let her go and she doesn’t do anything to move away either. He looks like he’s working himself up to something and it's then that Julie realises that he’s just as nervous about this as she is and that if she has to wait for Luke to make the first move they might be standing here for a long time.

So she lets that feeling of fearlessness from earlier flood back in, lets her fingers slide out from under his sleeves and wrap around his neck, pulling herself up onto her tiptoes until they’re almost eye to eye. Their height differences has never been so obvious to her as it is right now and she can’t decide if she likes it or wishes she’d worn the heels.

“Luke?” she whispers.

“Yeah?” his breath blows across her lips and she’s so close she can almost hear the way he swallows.

“Are you going to kiss me now?”

Julie doesn’t realise she’s been holding her breath until it wooshes out of her when he pulls her even closer with one arm around her waist and the other traveling to cup the back of her head as his lips finally touch hers. It’s messy and rushed and wet with rain, but Luke’s lips are soft and careful until she pulls herself up just a little higher and can deepen it. Teeth catching and lips pulling into smiles and soft groans as she scratches lightly at his scalp.

She’s kissed boys before, pecks on the lips and a disastrous seven minutes in a closet with Nick last year and an awkward first date with one of the boys from her maths class who had transferred the next year. None of them had been perfect or great or even good and she’d wondered if it was her. If she was the bad kisser.

But standing in an almost empty parking lot with the street lights reflecting off the wet tarmac with Luke’s arms around her, holding her, his lips chasing after hers as she pulls away to breathe? It’s imperfect and perfect and everything she never knew she’d been missing.

“That was—”

“—god you’re beautiful, did I tell you that earlier?”

Luke’s words cut her off as he presses his lips to the corner of her mouth, to just under her ear, to her jaw.

“I—” but she doesn’t know how to finish her sentence, a furrow between her brows as she leans back a little in his arms so she can see his face, shaking her head with a small laugh, “I’m soaked through with rain and my hair is a total mess. I don’t think beautiful is the right word here.”

“Bullshit,” he states, the hand that had been holding the back of her head, fingers tangled in wet curls, comes around to cup her cheek, calloused thumb brushing across her cheekbone once, twice, as his eyes roam around her face before focusing sorely on her eyes. “You’re the most beautiful person in any room or parking lot or space on earth. In the whole universe. Rain soaked hair doesn’t change that.”

“Oh,” is all she can get out as a blush rushes into her cheeks and she knows that Luke notices because his thumb strokes against it again and his lips pull up into a half smile that she knows means he’s about to say something incredibly dumb that will ruin the incredibly sweet moment. So she leans forward and presses her lips against his before he gets the chance.

They drape the blanket Luke had bought for the picnic across the back seat of his car and try their best to get dry without losing any clothing or soaking the seats. He pulls out a basket from the trunk filled with her favourite soda and slightly squashing sandwiches and cookies she knows his mom must have helped him bake and unevenly sliced carrot sticks that scream of Reggie throwing them in at the last minute. Luke passes her the aux cord and she skips through a playlist until she finds something she likes and they let his terrible car radiator try to warm them up while they eat their picnic. Though really it’s his arm around her shoulders and his hand covering her knee and her fingers trailing up and down his arm that do most of the warming up.

At 10:25 he walks her up to her front door, biting at his bottom lip as he bounces on the balls of his feet and glancing from the door to her and back again.

“So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. For band practice,” Luke says, his eyes still going from the door to her and back again and it’s starting to make her a little dizzy.

“Mhm,” she mumbles, taking a half step towards him, hoping it’ll keep his eyes in one place. Which they do. On her lips. And she doesn’t even try to stop the smile that pulls at them when she realises it. Pushing up on to her tiptoes again she kisses him once, quickly, sweetly and starts to step away. She only makes it as far as lifting one foot up before Luke is wrapping a hand around her waist to pull her back to him, lips moving together in a way that’s different from the kisses they’ve already shared. When he pulls away to breathe she presses a kiss to his cheek and finally manages to step away while he’s looking a little stunned. “Text me when you get home okay? I’ll see you tomorrow Luke.”

She opens her front door and slips inside before she can change her mind and stand on her front pouch kissing him all night. Because she could do that. Spend a whole night just kissing him. Julie presses her fingers to her lips as a giddy smile takes over her face, twitching aside the curtain that covers the window next to the door in time to see Luke getting into his car and driving away.

For their next date three days later they go to the arcade by the pier, and she doesn’t even care about the odd looks everyone around them shoots their way at the peeling laughter that erupts out of her when he pulls a bright yellow umbrella out of the trunk of his car with a wink.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #julie molina x luke patterson #jukebox #jatp #jatp fics #still have no clue what to tag fics as on here sos ghfjd #god this really did take me a whole month huh. but i like it. i think. idk about the ending #it could be worse. okay anyway. goodbye enjoy.#*fics #this tehcnicaly counts as a promot so!!!#*prompts

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