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obiwhat · 3 years

Text

thank you so much @volleyball-idiot for the req luv!! sorry it took a lil while, i sort of wrote,,,, a LOT,,, hehehee hope u enjoy!! 🥺🤲💗💗

Always

(AO3)

warnings: violence, language, blood, the usual expedition madness

A knock echoed through Erwin’s office room as the sound of rain on his windowsill threatened to wash it out entirely. But he knew that knock. Three sharps raps on the wood meant his loyal captain. It meant Levi was here, late in the night.

“Come in.”

The door opened quickly as he walked into the room, as familiar with the space as his own office. With a quick glance up he could see Levi’s usually stoic face seemed to be drooping into a deep frown. Erwin knew what had caused it. The captain had heard about the expedition plans. This late night meeting was to be expected, but his nerves still hung low in his stomach.

Levi jumped straight into it.

“Have you seen our numbers from the last recruitment? We don’t have nearly enough trained soldiers to protect the east side. They hardly even know the formation.” Levi pointed out, he didn’t like the look in Erwin’s eyes. It meant he was well aware of the fault in the formation.

“That’s why I will lead from that section.”

“You?” One eyebrow rose. The rest of the section leaders had also seemed concerned when he’d told them this, but most tended to blindly trust his calls. Levi wasn’t like them.

“Yes. Me.” Erwin repeated himself, eyes remaining on his stack of papers below. He knew what he was getting himself into with this plan, including the displeasure it would cause Levi.

“May I ask why the hell you would be the one to lead them?”

It was a fair enough question.

“They will be weaker on that side and I know the formation best, I will be able to instruct them as we go.” Erwin explained, straightening himself.

“That’s the most idiotic idea I’ve ever heard. Why don’t we just wait a few weeks and drill some common sense into them?”

“We don’t have the time. You know the interior is pressuring us to have new reports by next week. If we don’t deliver again, they’ll defund us entirely. The expedition will commence as planned tomorrow morning.”

“Erwin.”

Levi’s teeth were gritting together, Erwin finally peeled his eyes from the paper below to truly look at him. He was practically oozing with anger, confusion, something else he couldn’t name. He wanted to look away as soon as he’d seen him.

“I won’t let you throw yourself away like this. For what? A little write up for the interior?” He sucked in breath through his teeth. “I won’t let you.”

His hands were tightening into balls at his sides, for a moment Erwin thought he might try to knock him out right now, to miss the expedition entirely.

“Levi. I appreciate your concern. But the facts remain. I am replaceable.” He swallowed. “If I am to die tomorrow the chain of—”

“Replaceable...?”

Erwin was expecting a lash out. He expected Levi to break everything fragile in the room. To break his nose along with it. But the anger was long gone now. He just looked broken. As if that simple word had broken off a piece of him.

The commander straightened himself in his desk chair with a creak and remained firm in his positioning. This was for humanity. This was essential.

“Yes.” He turned his head down to the papers below again. This wasn’t how he wanted to say his goodbyes. But it was the only way. “Was that all, Levi?”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t talk to me like this doesn’t matter! Like you don’t fucking matter!!” He yelled now. Anger pulsing from him in shivers as he slammed a fist on Erwin’s desk.

“Where does that leave me, huh? What the hell am I supposed to do then?”

“Your duty.”

Levi sucked in a sharp breath. He couldn’t find Erwin’s eyes, as he hid them from view. He blocked him out. Put a thick wall between them to make it easier.

Was that all?

Was there nothing else he would say to him?

There was just duty and orders holding them together?

After all of these years…

Levi felt his world collapse. He was unconsciously holding his breath tight in his lungs as his eyes traced Erwin’s form. There was nothing he could say or do to change his mind. This was set in stone.

—

The forest was quiet.

There wasn’t much to be said in the first place.

The faces of the sparse recruits held crippling fear as they passed through the overgrown trees. Surely, they knew what their situation was now. Not even the presence of their commander could soothe their anxieties.

It wasn’t long until the first set of footsteps was heard. Titans from the rear. Erwin shot the warning flare for them as soon as he noticed it, recognizing the sound immediately.

Just one. Slowly coming about the rear as some hardly trained soldiers screamed at it in horror. It was probably their first time ever seeing one. It would most likely be their last.

For just then, Erwin noticed something off about it. It was bending low as it walked, as if it were about to…

The titan started leaping and sprinting sporadically, heading full speed into the back row of the soldiers. It grabbed them left and right, tearing through them in seconds.

An abnormal… Perfect…

The back row was demolished in a wave of blood and terror as other young soldiers seemed stunned with paralyzing fear. They watched their comrades die out in a blink of an eye. In moments, there were hardly any recruits remaining. They would have to outrun it, there was no use fighting if he’d have to manage on his own. Erwin knew this. These few untrained soldiers were no match for an abnormal.

“Scatter!” Erwin choked out a demand as another recruit was smashed into the ground beside him and scraped up to be eaten whole.

There were flashes of bodies flying from his peripheral vision. Screams of horror and pain that years of service allowed Erwin to block out. He kept his eyes trained forward as trees passed him by. His horse was fast but he could still hear the heavy footsteps gaining on him.

“Switch to ODM gear now!!” Erwin doubted if anyone was left to hear him anymore, the screams were dying out. His wires spread out in front of him and propelled him forward, through the mass of trees.

Everyone in his section was dying in an instant.

They never stood a chance. Maybe he knew this from the beginning. But the middle would be safe. The rest of them would be safe now. Levi would be…

His duty was done.

A hand slashed out to his side, barely missing him as he maneuvered around it. It was too fast. The titan would surely catch him any minute.

Another humongous hand was reaching for him as his gas got low from pushing it so hard. He was hardly hovering over the grassy ground. It wouldn’t be long now…

“Idiot!! Watch your left!”

A swift hand shoved him out of the way at the very last moment, just before a large fleshy fist could make a deadly impact.

He felt his breath flee his lungs in a hurry as he collided with the moss covered ground, tumbling on his back. He felt twigs and grass rough up his face as shock stole anyway any kind of conscious thought.

It was a fate more desirable to that of the person who’d saved him, he knew. The impact dizzied his vision, so he couldn’t see what had happened to them. Erwin twisted on the ground, flailing his head around to see who had sent him flying. But he already knew. God, he knew that voice all too well.

His blue eyes were searching, frantic, in a haste to find him. To find Levi. Surely he’d survived. There was no movement, no sign of him anywhere.

The abnormal was racing back around. It looked confused, obviously having lost sight of its prey. Erwin used it’s confusion to his advantage and swung behind the trees, finding it’s neck and slashing a vengeful cut through it’s nape. He watched it fall as he perched himself high in the trees to have a better look around him.

No sign of titans. No survivors. Just steam rising in the trees.

That’s when he finally spotted him, amongst the dead soldiers on the forest floor.

Levi.

His body was curled up on his side in the leaves. Unmoving, unresponsive as Erwin began to cry his name.

No.

No, no no.

He swung down, knees catching grass and moss as he slid to his captain’s side. His hands hovered over him, trembling without end.

This can’t be happening. Not him. He wasn’t supposed to be here…

“Levi…?” His voice died in his throat as he turned the man over on his back and spotted red. Bright red dripping down his face steadily. It was coming from his hairline. Erwin brushed his hair back gently as his head hung low over the man. He kept his callus palm on his cheek.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. Everything in his vision went dark besides the bleeding form in front of him. Levi was all he could see. Maybe it had always been that way. The commander shut his eyes desperately as tears started to form.

“Hey asshole.” It was barely a slurred rasp but Erwin huffed a laugh.

He felt a wave of breath leave his lungs. He could finally breathe again. Levi was awake.

He was alive.

“I thought you were… Levi… Don’t ever do that again.” There was no anger in his tone. He could barely speak as he caressed his cheek slowly, savoring the warm there. Levi’s warmth.

“I could say the same t’you.” He looked annoyed, but only on the surface. He was glad to see that Erwin made it out as well and that his desperate move paid off.

“You're slurring your words. You’re probably concussed.” Erwin knitted his eyebrows together and watched Levi’s gaze turn a bit glazed.

“T’would explain why there’s two of you.” He huffed a breath as he closed his eyes again, tightly.

“No, stay awake Levi. Don’t fall asleep.” Erwin commanded him, immediately drawing the man’s eyes open again.

“Resting my eyes. M’head’s killing me.”

“Keep them open. Focus on my voice and stay awake.”

Levi mumbled something incoherent as he watched the cogs turn in Erwin’s mind. Something he’d always found entertaining to see. Erwin ignored him and started untying the cravat from around his neck.

“Oi… Wh’you doing?”

“I need to wrap your head with something.”

“No, you’ll get blood all’over it. S’disgusting.” He didn’t put up much of a fight as Erwin successfully pulled it off his neck.

“Levi, there already is blood all over it.”

Head wounds tend to bleed more heavily. After years of service, he’d seen his fair share to know this well. The steady stream from Levi’s hairline had already found his white cravat and sank red into its porcelain color. Levi’s face fell into a frown as he saw it.

“Oh.” Levi spoke lazily as he watched Erwin gently tying it around his head.

“Do you have any flares left?” He asked as he finished tying the wound tightly. Levi winced slightly in response.

He shook his head, then regretted it immediately as his vision continued to spin even when he stilled his gaze. “Probably lost’m when I fell.”

“That’s alright. Surely one of the horses is still alive.”

Erwin put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. Desperate for any horse that might respond. If an abnormal had attacked them, that meant that others might be nearby. With little gas left and Levi’s current condition, they had to move quickly or they would die before sunset.

Thanking his sudden turn of luck for the day, Erwin noticed the familiar sound of hooves across the leaves of the forest. He gave the horse a grateful rub on its neck as it approached them. He turned to find Levi’s eyes closed again, he cursed.

“Hey.” He shook Levi’s shoulders softly, stirring him awake again. “What did I say about falling asleep? Keep your eyes open, Levi.”

“So bossy.” There was a nearly drunken look crossing the man’s face as Erwin gently lifted him off the ground. He groaned in pain at the sudden movement. Stars clouded his vision.

Erwin carried him up onto the saddle. The injured man tipped forward lazily as his dizziness threatened to engulf him for a moment. Erwin just barely caught him by the chest before he went tumbling right off the saddle.

“Stay awake, Levi.” He demanded again, his grip on his chest was firm and steady.

“Easy… you t’say.”

Erwin could barely make out his words as he spotted sweat building on the man’s forehead. Levi’s speech was getting worse by the minute which meant his wound was taking its toll. For a moment, he wondered if moving him by horse was even a wise idea.

They could wait for a rescue party. Survive in the trees for the time being. But would anyone actually come? If it were him, he wouldn’t waste the extra troops. With such little remaining as of late, they couldn’t afford it. Not even for the sake of the corps’ commander or Humanity’s Strongest.

“M’fine. Would y’get on already?” Levi demanded, sounding rather sour about his current position, halfway hanging off the horse.

Erwin apologized quickly and swung his legs up onto the horse, letting Levi lean his head on his back. He felt familiar slim arms wrap around his middle like a lifeline. Levi’s hold was warm and solid, giving him the reassurance to keep moving forward. He took the reins and shook the horse into motion.

—

The constant bobbing of the horse was making Levi even more dizzy than before, he felt nausea start to creep into his stomach. He would be damned if he got sick on top of everything else.

Instead, he concentrated on the steady thumps of Erwin’s heartbeat in his ear. His commander. His everything. He was safe and warm in his clutch once again. The blood seeping through his cravat and onto Erwin’s jacket was worth it. Just to feel his heartbeat and know he would make it through another day.

Erwin felt Levi’s arms go a bit slack. His nerves cried out in a wave of anxiety.

“Levi. Can you hear me?” He spoke loudly over the sound of the hooves hitting the ground in a haste.

“Yeah, yeah. Quit yelling… m’head is gonna explode.”

“Sorry.” He spoke more quietly this time, leaning back a bit towards his captain so he could still hear him. “Are you dizzy at all?”

“Course I am. M’not gonna fall off the damn horse if that’s wh’you’re asking.”

“Just keep holding tight and try to keep talking if you can, alright?”

“Fine.”

There was a beat of silence. Erwin couldn’t tell if he had fallen asleep or if he was simply thinking of something to say. He waited rather impatiently until he heard Levi’s raspy voice again.

“Erwin.”

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

“D’you still have that scar?”

He knew exactly what he meant. They both had their fair share of scars, but one stood out. A thin cut along his right palm. From Levi’s blade, originally intended for his throat. All those years ago…

“I think so. Yes.”

“Lemme see.” Then Levi was gripping at the fabric on his right arm. He switched the reins to his left and brought the arm down so Levi could grasp his hand. He traced the scar with his fingertips ever so gently.

“I’m sorry.” It was quiet, but clear. As if Levi was trying especially hard to stop slurring his words together. This was something he really wanted Erwin to understand.

“Ever since then… Only wanted t’protect you… Not just because of… my duty… It’s more than that… I… Erwin…”

“Levi…”

He felt his chest tighten with the anticipation of the words he knew were coming next. Unspoken for years between them. A forbidden phrase, buried deep inside them both.

“I love you.”

Erwin felt Levi’s breath heavy on his back. The way he sank into him like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Always have.”

He felt the wind rush through his blonde hair as a smile appeared on his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled this wide. Of course only Levi could bring it out of him.

“I love you too.” He laughed. An honest laugh. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders as well. Years of action had proved these words over and over, but now, they were finally spoken aloud. “I love you, you absolute idiot.”

“We’re both fucking… idiots.” Levi laughed too. Something Erwin was sure he’d let no one else hear but him.

The sound of it made his heart flutter and tiny goosebumps form on his arms. He gripped his hand in his own, squeezing it softly.

Erwin suddenly spotted the formation up ahead on the horizon. They were close, they were going to spot them soon enough. Levi would be alright and they would continue their path of idiocy together for a good while longer.

“Almost there, love.” He squeezed the slender hand in his grip once again. A reassurance. A promise.

“When we get’back… you’re buying me a new cravat.” Levi breathed a soft sigh as he made his demand.

“Sounds like a deal.”

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h2bakugou · 4 years

Note

hey love 💓 i have a request for sumn really fluffy with kaminari! maybe y/n is alone on a friday night so she invites her best pal denki over to hang out and he immediately comes to her rescue. i'm thinking mutual pining that leads to the confession of feelings??? idk do whatever you think works!! i just really like cute kaminari content lmao

a/n: hey hun! oo yes fluffy kami content i am here for it!! i might do a mini-series for him, don’t know what it’ll be abt but i’ve been thinking about doing lil mini-series for some characters

summary: a boring friday night in your dorm leads to some confessions with your best friend and crush, denki kaminari

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 1.6k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

Class had been over for hours, and now you were sitting on the floor of your freshly cleaned dorm room, bored out of your mind. Debating on starting up a movie and heading to bed early or playing some game on your phone, you let out an audible groan, frustrated from the lack of entertainment.

It was Friday night. You should’ve been asking if any of the third years were throwing some sort of party that you’d debate going to or up in the common room kitchen making food.

But now your fingers were typing away at the keyboard on your phone to 'Kami’ in your contacts, asking if he’d be down to stop your boredom from becoming fatal.

And in a matter of exactly four minutes and twenty-seven seconds, he was at your door with snacks and his own game console so you could play Mario Kart.

“You are an actual life saver.” You hug him quickly and pull him into your room, admiring the choice of outfit. It was most definitely his pajamas, a pair of loose grey sweats with a graphic tee that had some sort of video game reference on it.

“Anything for you, plus I was getting bored too.” The tone in his voice made your heart flutter. And the three words - anything for you - made your face burn. He was always so suave, even in the times that his charm was more comedic than it was actually charming.

“What should we do first?” You ask, sitting beside him, knee touching knee as you glanced at him and then back to your tv.

“Maybe watch a spooky movie.” Kaminari wiggled his fingers at you, leaning in and tickling your sides as you tensed and started laughing.

“Okay okay! We’ll watch a scary movie. You just want an excuse to cuddle me when you get scared.” You teased him back for tickling you. Kaminari rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“You’ll be scared during this one, it’s just come out, and the trailer had everyone going crazy.” Kaminari explained while he helped you find the movie. Turning off the lights, you returned with a blanket and tucked the two of you under it nice and cozy.

It had never felt weird between the two of you, like when you held hands or cuddled. You’d been Kaminari’s friend since entrance exams, and you’d been best friends since the first week of school.

And now that your heart longed to be more than just a friend or a best friend, holding his hand or cuddling with him filled that sort of odd space in your heart.

And Kaminari was the same. He enjoyed feeling your hand in his, or having your arms wrapped around his waist while you laid exhausted in his bed after a day of training in the gym.

He’d been crushing on you since day one, you were the one girl that never pushed him away, or dodged all his advances, you were sweet but tough, kind and sharp, you were everything Kaminari loved.

Slinging his arm around your shoulder, he pulled you closer to him so he could rest his head on yours, his eyes flicking from actually paying attention to the movie to paying attention to you, to the way your fingers with chipped nail polish would reach for some popcorn and then retreat back to laying over his.

Whenever a jumpscare or scary part of the movie appeared, you’d both huddle into each other, too scared to try and make a witty remark about the both of you being wusses.

And finally when the movie had come to an end, an hour and a half had passed. You sat in the darkness while the credits rolled, giggling about the funny parts of the movie.

“And when the slasher was actually just walking and he still killed them, come on now! It’s not that hard to survive.” Kaminari groaned, frustrated that the plot had been so predictable.

“And you would survive one of these scenarios?” You smile, calling Kaminari out on his bullshit.

“I know I would. Because I would have you on my team.” Kaminari hums, flicking the tip of your nose. Your face scrunches up from the sting of impact. You shove him playfully and he pulls you over on top of him.

You sit on his lap and sigh.

“I mean If I wouldn’t die I guess I can’t let you die either.” You laugh, staring into his golden eyes.

“Have you had your first kiss yet?” Kaminari asked blindly. You’re taken aback by the question, it had come out of nowhere.

“I haven’t. But please don’t make fun of me because have you had your first kiss?” You raise your eyebrows, praying he hadn’t.

“I have. I’ve kissed lots of people.” Kaminari lied, trying to seem cool. He was shitting himself, he had the chance, the opening, the timing, it was all perfect. You were sitting in his lap, your fingers playing with the collar of his sleep shirt, all he had to do was lean in and kiss you.

Surely it wasn’t that hard. It was a kiss. He’d seen people do it in movies several times, countless times, and he’d heard from Mina that kissing was super intimate even just little playful kisses.

Surely he could do this.

“Are you listening to me?” You pull Kaminari out of his thoughts but he’s quick to answer your question, pressing his lips to yours. It’s short, very short, and a bit awkward. His lips fit against yours, and right when you go to kiss him back, he’s gone, pulling away from you to grin at you.

“Kami did you-”

“Was it good?” Kaminari asks, beaming with excitement. You smile and shake your head.

“It lasted for like three seconds, if you’re gonna kiss me, kiss me like you mean it dummy, like this.” You lean in and press your lips to his. You were new to this, and judging by that kiss, you knew that he’d lied.

You guided his lips with your own, going off of what just felt right. Kissing wasn’t rocket science, it was a discovery, a journey, you just had to know how to lead and follow.

Pulling away when you needed to breathe, Kaminari was breathless, literally and figuratively. He stared at you with pink cheeks, awestruck by the kiss he’d just had with you.

“I thought you said you hadn’t kissed anyone!” Kaminari wasn’t upset, but he was curious as to how you’d kissed so well.

“I haven’t.” You were telling the truth, letting your arms rest on his shoulders you rested your forehead against his.

“Then how-”

“I don’t know.” You cut him off, laughing. Kaminari sighed and pressed another gentle and shy kiss to your lips, still unsure of how to really kiss you. It was sweet, but you reassured him that it wasn’t all that hard. You moved his hands to sit on your hips as you kissed him back, leaning more into the kiss.

Kaminari sat up some, taking the lead and finally showing some confidence. When he pulled away, it was your turn to be flustered. You looked away, trying to hide your red cheeks from him but his hands were quick to deter your movements.

“Please tell me that you like me back because-”

“I do.” You cut him off once more, finally looking back at him. Kaminari sighed and leaned back against your bed, happy to know that his feelings were mutual. You giggle and tug on his hands to pull him back up.

“Everyone already thinks we’re a couple ya know.” You tease, rubbing your thumbs over his knuckles.

“I know, believe Sero and Kirishima both keep telling me to make a move already and well I have now but I’m glad I did because god you are just so perfect and I was so scared that you didn’t like me and that I was just stuck in the friend-zone.” Kaminari pouted.

“Are you kidding?! I thought I was being friend-zoned! You’re always so flirty I was just like ‘oh my god he’s gonna reject me if I ask him out.’“ You laugh at your past thoughts, finding it funny that had you just trusted your heart you would’ve been together sooner.

“Why on Earth would I reject you?! You’re smart, funny, beautiful, pretty, beautiful.” Kaminari’s eyes are wide with admiration as he stares at you, a goofy grin on his lips as he holds you closer to him, letting you lay against his chest.

“You’re pretty too, Kami.” You compliment him, kissing his cheek delicately before resting your head back on his shoulder.

“Awe, thank you. No one’s ever called me pretty before.” Kaminari’s hands rub your back, tracing little shapes on your shirt as the two of you talk.

“Well you are beautiful so now you have.” You smile.

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” Kaminari asks, he didn’t have much money, but what he did have, he would most certainly use to at least take you to get a drink at a café or something.

“Of course.” You hug him, embracing the comfortable warmth he was radiating.

“Wanna watch me beat some bad guys on my new video game?” Kaminari offers some more entertainment and you’re quick to respond, hopping off of his lap so you can watch the screen.

You lay with your head in his lap, his hands playing with your hair whenever his screen was loading or during a cutscene.

You eventually fell asleep, Kaminari managing to turn off the console shortly after to doze off with you.

The next day would bring more laughs, more kisses, and more time with Kaminari, and a few congratulations from your classmates who had seen the relationship coming from miles away.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

#kaminari #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #kaminari x reader #denki #denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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emilycollins00 · 4 years

Note

Hey! In honor or spooky season and my recent haunted world trip, may I have the A3! Boys (any assortment up to you) reactions to a s/o whos terrified before going into the haunted house like completely horrified but then once they go in the S/O isn't afraid of anything? I found out recently that anticipation absolutely kills me, but like a actual good spooks from a quality haunted house does little to nothing to scare me lol.

Thank you for the request, dear! 💕 I wanted to do something since the begining of october but couldn’t think of anything. Fortunately this came up!

Happy pre-halloween everyone, enjoy! 💕

Troupes with not scared! Reader in a haunted house

All righty! Here we are going to divide the whole dorm into three big groups:

The ‘I was kind of worried about you some more than others, but if you say you’re okay...’ group: Yuki, Misumi, Tsuzuru, Omi, Tasuku Juza, Sakyo, Tsumugi, Hisoka

Yuki

He would never understand how you can go from being terrified to okay

Just a few moments ago you were almost stopping the circulation in his hand? Now you are looking around humming, geez

After glancing at you, seeing you really are fine, he focuses his attention on the next thing he loves most: clothes

He’s SO disappointed though

“Those are some low-quality clothes, is this their way to scare us?”

“Yuki”

“They won’t fool me even if everything is dark”

“Yuki, please just… act scared”

“Why should I, it’s only their mix of red and pink what makes me shudder”

Mizumi

Smiling and swinging his arms the whole time

Misumi’s so happy you are not looking so horrified anymore!

Grabs you by your hand

He’s so excited to be with you because??

IT’S TIME TO LOOK FOR TRIANGLES IN THE DARK

“Look! That man has a big triangle in his chest, let’s ask him if we can take it!”

This ball of sunshine knows no fear

“MISUMI, NO”

You both get scolded by the actors on your way out

Tsuzuru

Tsuzuru is good with haunted houses but doesn’t want you to force yourself

You assure him you are okay and so, when he sees you are calm after entering, looking around even slightly excited, he smiles

Is he really going to keep smiling though

Everything is cool until someone in a clown costume jumps at his face??

Just like the next one, and the next…

“Why do they keep jumping only on me?!”

“Tsuzuru, calm-”

Another shriek comes from behind him

“DON’T ‘TSUZURU’ ME Y/N, WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS”

He ends up exhausted as you pat him in the back on the way out

Omi

Yes, you are not scared at all now, but this one still goes full mom-mode, taking your hand through the haunted house.

“Look Y/N, that’s an awesome decoration, right?”

“Omi, I’m fine, don’t try to distract me”

He slightly scolds the actors with a smile when they shout and holds you close to him

“Omi, we are dating, you are not my caretaker”

“Haha, you are right”

“...”

“Would you like to go to eat after this? It’s been-”

“OMI”

Omi protection squad 24/7, whether it’s necessary or not

Tasuku

Thinks the whole concept of entering even if you are scared is stupid, but agrees to enter

Surprised to see you better the moment it starts but doesn’t comment on it

A monster appears. You tilt your head. Tasuku hums

“I see… but I still think coming from behind and surrounding us would have come across better”

"Tasuku, stop focusing on the acting for once”

There’s an awkard silence between you three

Tasuku stares at you, and then at the confused monster

“...I’m just saying the reaction would have been better if-“

Juza

He was worried about you as you both waited in line

You really looked horrified

Now… you are fine? You are not making it up are you

He tenses at the shrieks though, trying to remain composed to save face

“Juza, are you breathing?”

You almost can’t walk with your boyfriend so close

“...yeah”

End up laughing as he holds you so he doesn’t beat up anyone that randomly appears by instinct

Sakyo

He dragged entering inside because you looked too scared

Why would you even do that to yourself, are you an idiot? You pressed you just needed to do it

“I won’t be waiting for you to caught up, understood?”

“A-all right!”

After seeing you are okay though, he’s low-key glad you are enjoying it

Plus, he doesn’t have to deal with any shouting

You discover nothing phases him??

“As expected from my lovely yakuza”

“Care to repeat yourself”

After one glare from him, the actors are also quick to back off

Tsumugi

Tsumugi kept telling you to leave the queue, you didn’t have to do it

But after entering you look fine?

“Are you sure you are okay, Y/N? We can still...”

You laugh, “I’m fine, Tsumugi”

You convince him to relax and enjoy the attraction. Maybe he follows your comment too much

“That murdering scene was really well done!”

“Y/N, look the way they try to fight the killer in such a tiny space”

“I need to remember how great they...”

You are not sure if you are in a haunted house with your boyfriend or watching streets acts in a closed place

Hisoka

You both just walk like it’s a walk across the park until one monster appears

He looks so deadpan you are glad you were not scared

Who knows what would have happened if you had had to drag him around the place scared

“Hisoka, you okay?”

“Mhm, this place just… makes me sleepy”

“Makes you what now”

Hisoka just leans on you every chance he gets

You both unconciously damaged the ego of the actors

Not a single scream from any of you

The ‘Aw, weren’t you supposed to be scared?’ group just what’s wrong with them: Kazunari, Itaru, Chikage, Masumi, Azuma, Homare, Banri

Kazunari

Makes an instablam live out of it to record you.

What? He thought it would be cute, you holding onto him scared!

Instead, he realizes you are so damn cool??

“Sup y’all~ we are in a haunty house, say sike! And with me is…” he shows your face, you glance at the phone

“...Y/N?”

“Brutal. How are you doing, mysterious hunter?”

“Uh…Good now”

“SO BRUTAL. Hear that everyone?? My partner is just too epic to get scared!”

He’s so focused on you that barely takes notice of the scariness of the place

Itaru

Itaru keeps asking you if you are okay after you both enter

“I told you I am! You don’t have to worry”

He sighs “Ah... was hoping to see a scared Y/N, guess that’s still unlocked”

“...You had the chance to follow what I said with a smile, you know”

He laughs under your deadpan stare

After a while you notice he’s not near you anymore?? “Itaru? If you try to do something weird...”

“Y/N, this looks just like the zombie armor of my last gameplay…GG”

You have to actually DRAG him out I swear this man

Chikage

He’s curious to see how you would react because before entering it looked like you were on your way to death

Glancing at you now, everything looks fine? He’s sad he can’t tease you

Becomes somewhat of a tour to entertain you

“See, Y/N? That’s wrong. The whole blood bath is better to do it in the shower because…”

“Chokers like those really do nothing to…”

“Maybe I should tell them how to make murder scenes more accurate?”

He chuckles under your stare

The haunted house isn’t the one who’s scary

Masumi

He’s sad you aren’t as terrified as you looked at first???

“Why the hell do you look betrayed”

Masumi just really wanted to protect you

He decides he can still do that

Doesn’t stop dragging you and holding you close every chance he gets

“Masumi let that death grip go, I told you I’m fine”

“I’m taking precautions”

“But I’m-“

“Precautions”

Azuma

He looks at you, smiling in silence for a while “You look better than before, I’m glad”

“Yeah! I don’t know, guess it was the whole anticipation thing”

He stares at you blinking. You narrow your eyes, what-

“Y/N, Is that a real cocroach on your back?”

You turn around horrified, what the...?!

There’s nothing there

He laughs

“Azuma what the heck!”

HE IS STILL TRYING TO GET YOU SCARED IM-

Also, Azuma calling cute at every single monster that appears

Homare

Homare is intrigued about how you would react inside

He was hoping to do a poem about the beauty of fear

Glancing at you, he sees you are not afraid, to which he ‘hums’

Well, it’s fine, you did look georgous smiling

“It doesn’t matter if you are not afraid dear Y/N, let us enjoy this ghostly and dramatical affair before us!”

“Homare? This is not the time to-“

There’s nothing that would stop him now, you had given him enough material as you waited anxiously on the line anyway

Banri

You swear, you can’t take HIM ANYWHERE

He thought you would be scared so somehow gets bored when you don’t jump what the hell Banri

His solution? entertain himself with the place

Pretends to get a panic attack and flips off the actors

You both are banned from the haunted house for misbehavior

“Y/N, come on, I said I was sorry”

“No, you are not”

“… pfff, yeah you’re right”

Finally, the ‘I was supposed to protect you or enjoy our qualitity time but ended up screaming too loud and/or ragging you around’ group: Citron, Sakuya, Muku, Tenma, Taichi

Citron

Forget about being horrified, excited or whatnot, the second-hand embarrassment is real with this man

“DO NOT BE AFRAID Y/N, I KILLED AN EVIL DEMON ONCE IN MY HOMELAND, I KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH THIS”

You try to speed up the pace

Citron is blindly hitting and kicking thin air as he screams ‘who is it’

He didn’t even notice you weren’t scared honestly

“I protected you well, yes, love?”

“Uh… yeah”

Sakuya

He jumps a lot, admiring how well you end up managing now

“Y-you sure you are okay, Y/N?”

“Yup! How about you, Sakuya?”

“Oh, I’m… UGH!!”

He doesn’t try to run because it looks like you are enjoying the attraction.

Also, still wants to protect you if something happens to you? my heart

Sakuya holds on to your hands for dear life. He makes you promise you that you won’t leave each other’s side.

Poor boy has gained a few years but he’s so proud of how cool you looked

Muku

Insert big shriek anytime something moves, poor boy had never experienced something so scary at this big scale

Well neither had you, but you looked fine now??

He keeps trembling, doesn’t let go of your shirt

You said you both were going to face your fears, why is he the only one horrified now??

“I’m sorry Muku”

You both end up having a break afterward to calm his nerves. He’s so embarrased

“W-was I brave…?

And this. This is were you lie and say yes

Taichi

Man, he is SO excited because??? He can hold you if you are afraid!

It’s. His. Chance

Or not

Why is he the one who hides behind you it wasn’t supposed to be like this

“GAAAAAH!!”

“You okay, Tai?”

“I JUST SAW SOMETHING MOVE, I SWEAR LET’S GET OUT THE ROOM PLEASE Y/N!!”

You become his knight in shiny armor, he’s so awestruck

For nothing really?

Taichi is too loud, no one is even bothering you anymore

He still clings desperately on to you

Tenma

Fakes being fine to keep appearances although he’s not fine and absolutely all of us know this

Sweats so much as you both wait in line and just why are you going to do this to yourself and to him

“I-I guess if you are THAT afraid we can leave, Y/N”

“No, I want to try it at least once!”

Containing his breath until a gross spirit appears murdering people

Tenma doesn’t scream, the boy IS DESTROYING HIS THROAT

He doesn’t care if you are now okay with this. If he goes down, you are going down with him

“S-stop. Tenma stop grabbing me!”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!! YOU KEEP MOVING Y/N OR WE ARE GOING TO GET KILLED!”

Never again

________________________________________________________

Tag yourself because I would SO be Tenma if this was real life.

Have a wonderful day! 💕

138 notes · View notes

taexual · 4 years

Text

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (3)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: some mild angst

words: 4.4k

chapter three

A few more days passed before Jungkook was discharged from the hospital and returned to class. Although, to be honest, you probably wouldn’t have even realized that he was back – hell, you didn’t even know that you shared any classes on Wednesdays until today – if it weren’t for the excited shrieks that erupted all throughout the auditorium when the door opened minutes before class was supposed to start.

Confused and slightly alarmed, you turned to look as well, and saw Jungkook enter the room, smiling as soon as groups of concerned students poured towards him to express their worries. These were the same people that ran away from the party as soon as his accident happened, and then didn’t bother to check on him when he was at the hospital.

Disgusted, you turned away but not before noticing how much Jungkook seemed to enjoy the attention, even if it wasn’t genuine.

Perhaps you’d been wrong about his reasons for talking you at his party last week – he didn’t seem to be bored of constantly being in the spotlight. He cherished in it and, clearly, being loved and, well, worshiped was his preferred form of entertainment.

You sighed, your prediction coming true: the vulnerable Jungkook you’d seen at the hospital was now light-years away. He was back to his old unrecognizable self and the conversation you’d had last Saturday was probably erased from his mind already, including all the advice you’d given to him about his family.

However, when, despite yourself, you turned to glance at him again, he surprised you by catching your eyes. Not having expected him to notice you – because why would he need your pity when he had so many others, ready coo at him until he was sick of it – you looked away again. But Jungkook had seen the warning in your eyes and he remembered all that had happened in the hospital.

“Excuse me,” he found himself saying as he tried to walk past the small crowd that had gathered to greet him. Adamant to truly get his life together just like his father wanted, he took a seat in the middle row – just like you did – but across the room from you.

You felt him look at you from all the way over there – or maybe he was just looking in your general direction – but you didn’t meet his eyes again, focusing instead on the projector that the professor was struggling to turn on at the front of the room. Thankfully, within the next few moments, everyone that was so excited about Jungkook coming back, relocated to the area next to him and, soon enough, you couldn’t even see him in the crowd of students anymore.

The attendance was exceptional that day and even the professor took notice of that – choosing not to mention the fact that everyone had clustered to the left half of the auditorium for some odd reason – but the rest of the class carried on as usual. That is, until Jungkook felt his determination begin to fade.

It was hard to remain focused on being an exemplary student when so many people wanted to talk to him and make him laugh, and, before long, Jungkook gave in. Who was he to deprive the others of the joy of being noticed by him, right?

It was normal that the part of the room, where the majority of the people were, was going to be the loudest and yet, up until Jungkook joined in on the conversation his peers were having, the entire auditorium seemed to be fairly quiet. Now, however, sounds of laughter and obnoxious snickering started to overshadow whatever the professor was trying to say.

You rolled your eyes every time a soft chuckle from Jungkook forced the laughter to ripple through the crowd of students – they were blindly following whatever he was doing and he loved it.

If this was what he did with his time in class, then it didn’t really matter that he was here. Once again, it was just an act he put up for himself – and his parents – while, really, he was probably making plans to party later this same day.

You learned that your observation was completely on point as soon as the class ended and you gathered your things. Walking past Jungkook and his entourage, you overheard them tell him about a “small gathering” they were having tonight. Glancing over to check his reaction, you saw him nod and tell them he’ll try to come, like a true crowd-pleaser. Shaking your head, you turned away.

“Hey!” you heard suddenly and stopped in surprise, not really sure if it was you that was being addressed. But Jungkook had noticed you exiting the auditorium and was now making his way towards you.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly when he reached you. “You’re back.”

“I am,” he nodded and then hesitated, not having prepared his next words, “I, uh, I wanted to thank you for the chocolates you’d brought. They saved my life.”

“Oh,” you obviously hadn’t expected him to bring your hospital visit up ever again. “Well, I’m glad I could help.”

Jungkook smiled and, because neither of you had anything else to say, you gave him a weak nod, took a step out of the auditorium, and continued to walk down the hall, unaware that he was following right after you. But then he spoke again.

“Hey, so, you have Accounting tomorrow at nine, right?” he asked and, once again, surprised you by knowing your schedule.

“I do, yes,” you gave him a look. “Why?”

“Well, I heard that the professor’s a bit of a dick,” he said with a chuckle as the two of you walked down the hall towards the exit of the building, “and, apparently, he likes to throw in these surprise pop-quizzes in class sometimes, no?”

“Sure.”

“How hard are they?” he asked then. “Would you say that I’d pass them with ease if I read his slides before class or would I need to, you know, put some actual work into it?”

You stopped walking and raised your eyebrows. “Did you ever show up at his class this semester?”

“Uh,” Jungkook scratched his neck with a nervous chuckle, “yeah, I was at the introductory one. But, uh, after that, not really. No.”

“Then reading his slides should be enough,” you said, “since you’re probably going to fail the class anyway.”

You started to walk again but Jungkook – surprised by the ease in your voice as you said this – lingered behind and ended up having to jog to catch up with you.

“Whoa, wait, what do you mean? Why?” he asked.

“Well, if you fail his pop-quiz, he marks you as absent,” you explained, “and you didn’t even show up to class once anyway, so you don’t—”

“Yeah, but I mean—c-could you help me out here?” he grabbed your arm, stopping you as he found your tempo too difficult to keep up with. Perhaps you had unintentionally sped up in your attempt to exit the building quicker, so you could avoid people turning to watch the two of you.

“Help you out?” you asked with a sigh, trying to look at him and not at the group of girls that had been following you ever since you and Jungkook left the auditorium together. He was bound to get distracted by them sooner or later, though, and you hoped you could finally escape from their judgmental gazes then. “How?”

“I don’t know,” he said, not even noticing anyone else in the room. “Maybe send me some material I could read over the weekend?”

“Over the weekend?” you repeated. “His class is tomorrow.”

“No, yeah, I know, but I have plans tonight, and—”

“So, you’ll be skipping again?”

He took note of the disappointment in your voice and forgot the very plausible explanation for his lack of attendance that he’d come up with.

“I-I guess, yeah,” he said. “It’s just that some of my friends are getting together tonight, and I don’t want to miss that.”

“Right,” you nodded, sounding far more condemning than you’d meant to. “You’re choosing a party over your studies.”

“I’m—” Jungkook started to say but your words sounded so much like his father’s that he had to take a step back and reconsider, his hands naturally clenching into fists. “That’s not what I’m doing. I haven’t seen my friends since last Friday and I—”

“You haven’t seen them because they didn’t care about you enough to visit you at the hospital,” you said, the cold, hard truth spilling out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “You shouldn’t sabotage yourself by skipping class for someone who doesn’t even—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” he cut you off suddenly, his voice severe. Within seconds, he seemed to have gone a few shades paler, and his voice a few octaves deeper.

“You asked for my help,” you pointed out as calmly as you could under his burning gaze.

“Yeah! For school, not for my life!” he argued and even this fight reminded you of the old him – throwing a tantrum as soon as he didn’t get something he wanted – except this time the two of you were in a public space, surrounded by too many curious eyes to count. “I didn’t ask for your opinion about what I’m doing tonight.”

“I don’t care what you’re doing!” you defended yourself. “I just thought you wanted to get your life together and partying the night before a 9 AM class doesn’t seem like a—”

“I am getting my life together,” he snarled, not letting you finish, “but it’s not your business how I choose to do it.”

His aggressive stance reminded you of what Yoongi had said that night at the party – Jungkook was getting into fights so often, his own band members were starting to give up on him – and you took a second to calm yourself before you spoke again. There was no point to provoke him and have him walk around, punching people.

“Okay,” you said then but your calmness only seemed to aggravate Jungkook even more. “I was just trying to help you with your fam—”

“Why?” he demanded. “Why do you care? What’s in it for you?”

The venom in his words stabbed at your chest and you couldn’t conceal your wounded expression. Swallowing thickly, you tightened your lips as you looked for the right words.

“We were friends once upon a time,” you said. “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you but it matters to me.”

Only sparing him one more second of your time – all because his gaze was that difficult to escape even when it was burning with irrational rage – you turned towards the door and finally left the building, exhaling as soon as you felt the sunshine on your skin.

He didn’t follow after you this time. Good.

The past five minutes had exhausted you much more than the whole hour and a half of class, so you needed extra time to recuperate when you got back to your dorm room. Normally, you’d grab a bite to eat and then prepare for tomorrow’s class but now, every time you considered picking your books up, you remembered the argument with Jungkook.

You couldn’t stay focused even after you had some food, so you texted your roommate and joined her at the campus café where she was pretending to be productive.

Almost as soon as you arrived, Inna wanted to know why your face was “all scrunched up” but you assured her that it was nothing, not wanting to recall the details of your and Jungkook’s unsuccessful attempt at bonding again.

Instead, you listened to her tell you about an event that seemed to be exactly the party Jungkook was planning on attending tonight.

“It’s at Brock’s house,” she said and didn’t bother to elaborate who this Brock person was. “He has a house right off campus and—”

“Aren’t his parents bothered that he’s throwing a party on a weekday?” you wondered.

“His parent—no, that’s his house,” Inna clarified, “he lives there alone.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Another rich kid?”

“Guess so, yeah,” she shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, so he’s been talking about how he has a booze supplier – a cousin that works for Hennessy or something – and the others have been pressuring him into throwing a party for the longest time, but he kept saying no.”

“Why?” you asked even though you didn’t really care and found the reflection of you and your friend in the window of the café so much more interesting.

“Because the only optimal time for a party is on a Friday night,” Inna said, sounding very much like an expert on campus social life, “and everyone knows that Friday nights are for Parental Advisory gigs and their after-parties. But then Jungkook had an accident, and—”

“Wait,” now this got you curious, “so he’s using Jungkook’s accident to throw a party on a Friday night?”

“Well, not anymore. He was going to use it,” she said, “but then Jungkook was discharged earlier than he expected, so he had to move the party from Friday to tonight.”

“That’s… wow,” you leaned back in your chair, not having considered that some of Jungkook’s friends saw his accident as nothing else but an opportunity to take his place. “I really underestimated the lengths some people are willing to go in order to establish their social lives.”

“Yeah, so this party’s kind of a big deal,” Inna continued, “because now Brock has to live up to the hype.”

“And the party’s on a Wednesday night,” you added. “Making it seem worth it can’t be easy.”

“It wouldn’t be,” she agreed, “but, apparently, Brock convinced Jungkook to come.”

You scoffed. “I don’t think it took a lot of convincing. I saw how easily he agreed to come in class today.”

“Wait, Jungkook?” Inna was the one who was surprised now. “He actually showed up to class?”

“I know, right?” you nodded, having been surprised by this, too. “But that must have been a one-time-thing. Like his mind blacked-out from the accident or something. He’ll be back to his old self in no time.”

“Hmm,” she considered this and took a sip of her caramel drink. “So, what actually happened that night at the party? You never told me.”

“What do you mean?” you picked up your own drink from the table and stirred it with a straw all so you wouldn’t have to look at your friend. “I told you he crashed his car and then I called an ambulance, and—”

“No, but I mean before that,” Inna said. “How did he even get into the car if he was drunk?”

You sighed. “I don’t know. He was angry.”

It was obvious that you didn’t want to talk about that part of the night – or else you’d have told Inna everything already – because a part of you felt guilty for not having stopped him. There was no one else to do it at the time – Yoongi had already left and the guy Jungkook was fighting with couldn’t have cared less – so you felt partially responsible for not doing enough to prevent him from getting into the car, even though, objectively, you knew there was nothing you could have done.

“Someone said he was in a fight with someone,” Inna mentioned, not thinking much of it. She just wanted to understand what had gone down.

“He was,” you nodded slowly. “That’s why I went outside. But I don’t know why they were fighting or anything. They were already past using words by the time I got there.”

“Yeah, this girl told me that it’s pretty easy to irritate Jungkook,” she said. “He doesn’t have a lot of patience, does he?”

“No,” you confirmed. “He never did.”

“Did he get into fights when he was younger?” she asked. “I mean, when you knew him?”

Sitting up properly, you looked around. You’d never felt too comfortable discussing your friendship with Jungkook in great detail – let alone doing it in such a public place where anyone could have been listening – and perhaps that was because, in a way, you felt like you’d gotten dumped when he decided that you should stop being friends. No one wanted to talk about this type of things.

“Uh, no,” you said then. “His family, uh—they had a tight grip on him.”

“Huh, I guess that changed when he moved away for college,” Inna mused.

You looked down, remembering that Jungkook moved away two years before finishing school. You wondered if that was when things really changed. Maybe no longer having his father’s watchful eye on him at all times loosened him in the worst possible way. You were afraid to try to guess the number of fights he must have gotten into since junior year of high school.

“You know, another thing I learned at the party last week,” your roommate continued after you didn’t reply, “is that, apparently, Jungkook getting into fights has become sort of a running joke in their inner circle.”

You raised your eyes to meet hers. “I’ve never heard anyone joke about it before. I didn’t even know that he—”

“Yeah, I said inner circle,” Inna repeated. “Apparently, it’s a common occurrence at the Parental Advisory parties and yet, most of us who aren’t that close to the members, are usually left in the dark about it. But every time someone walks around the campus with a black eye the next day, people start talking. Wondering. And the only people who know what really happens at those parties are the people who see it happen. That’s why the Parental Advisory groupies always seem so… well, so above us. Above everyone else. They joke that it’s because of Jungkook. They’re supposed to be covering for him but, by being secretive, they end up attracting even more attention to themselves.”

“Huh. And this attention is exactly what they want, isn’t it?,” you theorized, not having guessed that Jungkook’s so-called friends were that fake. “They must love all the rumors that surround those parties.”

“Of course they do,” she agreed. “It proves that they’re the crème de la crème of our campus.”

You considered this for a while. “Do you think that, uh, Brock is counting on Jungkook to start a fight at his party tonight?”

“Oh,” Inna took a sip of her drink as she thought about it. “That would make sense. It would stir some shit up and it’d definitely help Brock prove to everyone that his parties are worth waiting for.”

You didn’t want to think of what Brock might do in order to prove his worth to everyone else but you couldn’t help but worry about Jungkook since he was, clearly, very easily manipulated. Then again, his brutal “what’s in it for you?” when he spoke to you last, may have hinted at his suspicions about people using him for their own benefit.

All of your worrying was suddenly replaced by this last memory. You weren’t obligated to save Jungkook every time you learned that he was putting himself in danger and he made that very clear. It was none of your business.

“Whatever,” you said with a dismissive sigh. “I don’t really care about the campus parties thrown by kids who paid their way into the university.”

“So, you do care about the Parental Advisory parties then?” Inna asked and she was smirking because she obviously thought she’d found a loophole in your statement.

Granted, you weren’t sure that the members of the band all got into university because of their rich parents. All you knew was that Jungkook – even though he did come from a rich background – got wait-listed at first and only got in because someone else dropped out, which meant that his parents had little do to with his enrollment.

“Why?” you asked. “Don’t tell me those guys have actual heads with brains on their shoulders.”

“Don’t be so judgmental, you know nothing about them,” Inna told you in a good-natured manner and she was right. You were certainly prejudiced but, in your defense, there wasn’t a single instance that could have proven to you that the members of Parental Advisory weren’t brainless dumbasses. “I’ve heard that Hoseok is actually at the top of his class. He might be graduating cum laude.”

You weren’t expecting that and, for a moment, even found that hard to believe but, really, what use did an alt-rock band have of rumors about how good at studying their members were? So, this must have been true.

“Okay, my bad,” you admitted. “I misjudged them. Jungkook might be a huge idiot but I know he’s got brains. It’d make sense for the other members to be smart, too, I guess.”

“You can be smart and still have fun,” she said with a teasing smirk, “that’s something I’ve been trying to teach you ever since we started college.”

“Not very successfully, apparently,” you retorted and she laughed.

“I’ve tried my best,” she said and, unknowingly quoting the words Jungkook had told you repeatedly when you were growing up, added, “It’s not my fault you’re so stubborn.”

Inna and you hung out at the café for a couple of hours before splitting up – she headed home to finally stop chit-chatting and get some actual work done, and you went to the library to study for tomorrow. According to your mental plan, you were supposed to start studying at least an hour earlier, so you were anxious the entire walk there, feeling like you were already behind on everything.

You spent a few extra hours at the library because studying was something you were used to, something you were good at. And with all the unusual situations you’ve gotten into this past week, it felt good to fall back into the familiar routine.

Because of that, you only got back to the dorm when it was already dark outside – which was annoying since the lights in the hallway of your floor weren’t working and you always struggled to unlock the faulty door of your room in the dark.

This time, however, just as you pulled the keys out of your pocket, your phone rang. Surprised by the vibration in your pocket, you almost dropped your books and, with a groan, finally managed to fit the key into the lock, so you could get your phone out.

You didn’t recognize the number on your screen, so you chose to enter your dorm first, before answering.

“Hello?” you spoke warily. 9 PM was still fairly early but it was late enough to get alarmed when strange, unknown numbers called you.

“Hey,” a voice said. “It’s me.”

That was obviously a very poor introduction but, to be quite honest, you found that you didn’t really need one. Despite not knowing the number, you recognized the owner of the voice right away.

“Jungkook,” you said as you placed your books on the side-table by the door and entered the room where Inna was lounging on her bed. “How did you get my number?”

“I asked your roommate,” Jungkook explained slowly. He had expected you to ask why he called, not how.

“Ah,” you glared at Inna who – figuring out that Jungkook had just outed her – shrugged and got off her bed to head into the bathroom and give you more privacy.

“Don’t worry, she didn’t do it willingly,” Jungkook added quickly, “I had to harass her for fifteen minutes.”

You doubted that Inna would have seen that as harassment but you appreciated her loyalty nonetheless.

“I’m not sure I’m worth that effort,” you said, not meaning to make it sound like you didn’t want to talk to him but Jungkook still came to that conclusion.

“I, uh, sorry if I—well, I’m sorry it wasn’t you I asked for your number,” he said. “I was going to but…”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence because there was only one chance for him to ask for your number today and the memory of how that encounter ended was still fresh in both of your memories.

“Anyway,” he continued after you didn’t find what to say quickly enough, “I just called to apologize about today. I acted like a real asshole.”

You felt a smile tug at your lips – it wasn’t often that he admitted to being in the wrong – as you sat down on your bed.

“Thanks,” you said. “I appreciate that. Sorry if it was something I said that—”

“No, you didn’t say anything wrong,” he said. “It was all me. You were right about everything.”

“Still. I wasn’t very nice about it.”

“Yeah, well, neither are the people who pretend to be my friends,” he said and you didn’t really know how to reply to that. Thankfully, Jungkook wasn’t done just yet. “In any case, I ambushed you after class and then I didn’t listen to you. Sorry I never seem to do that.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you should have said what you were about to say but, because of all those years that you’d been friends, you plowed ahead, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize to me.”

Much to your surprise, Jungkook laughed.

“As I was dialing your number, I just knew you were going to say this exact thing,” he revealed and you laughed, too. “Guess I still know you pretty well then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you were now full-on grinning – thank God Inna wasn’t here to see it or she would have never let you live it down, let alone forget that she was the one who gave him your number. “Oh, but why are you calling me now? Aren’t you supposed to be at the party?”

“I, uh–I’m actually home,” he admitted, “studying for tomorrow’s class.”

You fooled yourself into thinking you could ignore the clenching of your stomach when you talked to him at the hospital. But now you really couldn’t deny it – the twisting and churning of your insides was definitely caused by the butterflies, roaming free all over your body.

You didn’t want to sound patronizing by telling Jungkook that this was precisely what you told him he should have done so, still smiling to yourself, you gave him an encouraging, “that’s good.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice far more self-assured now than it’d been when he first called you.

“Yeah,” you echoed and the conversation settled into a silence that – contrary to what one might expect from two people who fell out of touch with each other – was comfortable and, just like your routine of studying, familiar.

keep reading | masterlist

#bts #bts fanfiction #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fanfiction #bts au #college au #bts college au #jungkook college au #fanfiction

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wasithard · 4 years

Text

my self esteem is through the roof right now (thank you @vinylpaperclip) i’m just gonna post the whole “australian!annabeth” fic here even though i think its wildly out of character based on the fact that annabeth is absolutely a self-insert for myself but who cares!!!!!

in case it isnt clear footy = football and in this case is referring to the great game of rugby league. i apologise in advance for the ending which is just....a whole lot of cheese. enjoy!

She really did bring a footy jersey all the way with her to England, even though it was going to be seen by exactly zero other people as she watched the game by herself in her room.

But hey, it feels like home, and from the excited text she gets from her brothers in response to the photo she sends them of her in it lets her know that she made them smile, which makes it worth it.

They’re halfway into the first half, Blues up by 2, when her phone dings.

Dumbass: are you around i’m bored

You: watching the footy you may join me but no talking this is important

Dumbass: if it’s australian football it’s not important but sure

When she opens the door for him a few minutes later Percy squints at her.

“Are you wearing a jersey? Did you bring a jersey all the way here?” He sounds incredulous.

“Gotta support the boys!” She says in reply, turning around and racing back to her bed and her laptop so she doesn’t miss anymore game time.

Annabeth hears Percy shut the door before he joins her, poking her in the side to get her to make room for him on the bed. She shuffles over and he settles in beside her, stretching an arm behind her as she sinks into his side.

“Oh, it’s rugby league. That’s acceptable at least.”

“What did you think I was watching?” She asks him, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I thought you were going to make me sit through your country’s sorry excuse for soccer.”

“You know what, I’m not even going to try and defend us on that one.”

He chuckles, “Good.”

They fall into a silence and Annabeth is wholly focused on the game. She fills Percy in on the importance of this game, the long, intense rivalry of the teams, who her favourite and least favourite players are. For his part, he seems to actually care, or does a good job of pretending.

At half time he raises his eyebrows, “This is actually pretty entertaining.”

“Well duh,” she says, turning to face him, “We’re world number 1s and this is an all-stars match.”

“I don’t know about world number ones,” he says. The smile on his face tells her he’s just trying to rile her up, but she can’t help herself.

“We literally won the World Cup last year.”

“Home ground advantage. Doesn’t count.”

She’s smiling as she shakes her head, “Shut up.”

“Make me.” He says, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes flick to her lips for the briefest of seconds.

It sends butterflies shooting through her stomach, and she’s suddenly very much aware of all the places he’s touching her. She loves it, this game they’ve been playing for the past couple of weeks, dancing around each other. She only loves it, she thinks, because she knows he feels the same.

There’s no mystery about either of their feelings for each other, the question is only when they’ll crack and act on them.

Not right now, she thinks to herself, I haven’t waited this long for our first kiss not to be romantic.

She grabs a pillow from her other side and whacks his face with it, laughing at the exclamation she gets out of him.

He grabs her and smothers her with it. She manages to blindly locate his armpit and starts tickling him there. Maybe not the most graceful way of getting him off of her, but it works.

“Did you just tickle me?!”

“Yes and if you try to do it back I can’t promise that I won’t draw blood.” She states simply, getting up from the bed and walking to the kitchenette. “Hungry?” She asks.

“Surely you know the answer to that.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling, “I’ve only got snacks. Do you want chips or bread?”

He rolls onto his back, his head hanging off the side of the bed as he watches her, “Will that bread have Vegemite on it?”

“You know it will!” Her voice is cheery from inside a cupboard as she brings out her 1kg tub of Vegemite.

“Have I told you how happy I am that you recognise the sheer deliciousness of Vegemite?” She says, passing him a plate with two slices of Vegemite-lathered bread as she returns to the bed.

“Yes, many times.”

“Well, I’m telling you again. I’m so glad you have taste, unlike everyone else in this country who thinks Marmite is edible.”

“It’s a gift.” He says, grinning through a mouthful of bread. She scrunches her nose in disgust and fetches her laptop from the end of her bed.

“Perfect timing,” she mutters as the game restarts for the second half. They settle into their comfortable silence again, the only sounds the voices of the commentators, their mouths chewing the bread and Annabeth’s occasional gasps and muttered curses.

He takes their plates when they’re done and puts them on the floor next to the bed. They rearrange themselves so that she’s leaning against him again and this time his arm rests around her waist, hand laying on her hip.

It starts as nothing, but at some point his hand finds his way under the thick, blue cotton of her jersey and onto the smooth warmth of her skin underneath.

She hears her own sharp intake of breath and wishes her body wouldn’t be so obvious about the effect Percy has on her. He sounds genuinely worried when he says, “Sorry, should I–”

“No! No, you’re fine.” She says, glancing at him in reassurance, “It’s nice.”

Nice, she thinks, ugh. But she refocuses on the game, his hand a weight burning into her side.

They sit a few more minutes until he rubs his thumb slowly upwards along her stomach, and Annabeth thinks she might die. Involuntarily, she inhales again.

She can hear a small smile in Percy’s voice when he asks, “You ok?”

She doesn’t trust her voice so she nods and hums the affirmative, but her breathing is shallow.

“Ok,” he says, and brings his head down to rest on her shoulder, lips brushing the top of her back. She fights the urge to tense her body in anticipation and instead turns on him. He jerks back in surprise.

“Actually, you’re being distracting. I’m going to need to you stop this until the game is over.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk curling his lips. “I’m distracting am I?”

“Yep,” she says, turning back around, “I already said it, not saying it again.”

“What about what I’m doing is distracting you, ‘Beth?” He asks, bringing his head back down to near her shoulder.

“I’m not talking about this while there’s a game on, unfortunately.”

“Ok I’ll just chill here then.”

“Unfortunately, you can’t do that either.”

“Should I leave then?”

“Nope.”

“Well…”

She huffs in frustration, “Percy!” She turns towards him, mouth open to berate him but the words get stuck in her throat at the way he is positively beaming at her. She hates him for it. She falls a little more in love with him for it.

She exhales, deflating. “Why now?” She asks.

He tilts his head, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she turns her body so that she’s fully facing him now, the game momentarily forgotten. “Why now of all times to be so forward?”

She can see his brain thinking, oh ok so we’re actually talking about this now, as he blinks a few times. “Why not?”

She thinks about spitting some more banter about how she’s in the middle of a very important rugby game and it’s actually quite rude of him to interrupt her with this but decides instead to try and be honest, to let herself be vulnerable. Because if one thing has become clear to her over the months she’s been living in England, is that she can trust this man in front of her. He’s listened to her talk about architecture and Australian politics just as intently as he’s listened to her tell him about her parents and step-family and her attempts to start living a life for herself instead of a life to try and please the people around her.

Her voice is small when she responds. “Why me?”

She’s staring at him with an openness that scares her a little bit, but she feels a bit better when she sees his entire body soften.

Percy’s gaze searches hers for a moment, the expression on his face as if he’s asking, are you joking?

He shakes his head a little in disbelief, “Because, Annabeth, how could I know you and not be desperately in love with you?”

A sound falls out of her, like she’s released a weight she’s been holding for years. She hesitates for one last moment before both of her hands reach out and grab his shirt, pulling him close and capturing his lips with hers, because she has to.

His words are ones she’s been wishing to hear for years, a suggestion of a romance she’s been blindly, naively hoping she’ll find one day. She kisses him with the force of twenty-two years of yearning for someone to see her and love her as she is; she kisses him with the relief of finally finding it.

His arms come around her and hug her closer to him and her hands slide up his chest and around his neck, pulling herself into his lap so that they are flush against each other. She’s not sure how long they’re kissing, but when she eventually pulls back they’re both out of breath. Her hair is hanging around them both like a curtain, enclosing them in their own world where they are totally lost in this moment, in each other. His eyes are sparkling up at her and there’s a beautiful redness to his cheeks that make his eyes shine even brighter. She brings her hands up to cup his face, thumbs tracing his cheeks, and he just stares and stares until she closes the space between them again with one more long, searing kiss. One that she feels deep in her belly.

He rolls them over so they’re lying next to each other on the bed when they break apart again, and she keeps one hand resting on his face as they just look at each other, entranced.

An eruption of cheers from the tinny laptop speakers snaps her out of her daze. She bolts upright and checks the score – it’s full time and the Blues have won the game. She shouts with joy, shuts the laptop and tosses it to the end of the bed before falling back down next to him.

“I guess I’ve won twice today.” She says, shuffling closer so that her nose brushes his.

“Well, congratulations,” He says, “What’s the prize?”

She smiles slowly, her lips taking time to break apart and expose her grinning teeth. His eyes follow the movement, and his soft exhale as her smile grows bigger fills her chest with a golden warmth.

“He’s right here,” is all she says before leaning in again.

#here she is #im gonna go have a nap now bye #also if anyone cares/understands yes she is watching state of origin #percabeth fic #percabeth #pjo #hi i wrote a thing #i cant think of a title for this sorryyyyy

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labyrinth-runner · 4 years

Note

"You don't have to worry I'm never going to touch you" with Dan pls????

Title: War of Hearts

This is definitely an AU and I am not apologizing. I’ve been watching the American TV show North and South. This is what happened.

When the war office had contacted you to let you know that your father was missing in action, the world had slowed. Your mother fell to her knees, and you saw her pray for his safe return. It was an act of desperation she had not shown in the years since your father had left to fight in the war, saying that she trusted God to bring him home and to pray for his safe return would be an act of doubt. Now, you watched fear overtake that feeling of assuredness. You watched her break as she buried her face in your skirts. Your roles reversed as you found yourself comforting her as she had always comforted you.

Locking eyes with the officer on your front step, you nodded. He gave you a regretful nod and left you to pick up the pieces.

Since then, days in your household were quiet. It was almost as if your mother were afraid that showing any sense of normalcy would be to show some higher power that your father was not truly needed, but you knew the truth. Your father was the other half of her heart. Without him, she was only half living. It was hard to watch, especially since you had no way of helping her cope, because you couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be so tethered to another person.

One day, you were sitting on the window seat in the parlor. Your needlework rested in your lap as you looked out at the sun shower on the other side of the glass. You always found sun showers to be a hypocritical kind of weather. It was as if the sky were offering hope while also mourning a loss. Looking to the west, you could see clearer skies, which you looked forward to, contemplating on taking a ride before dinner just to get out of the house.

Movement caught your eye, and you turned towards the source. There was a horse riding through the gate of the house at top speed with two men atop it. One seemed worse for wear.

You were to your feet and running to the door, calling out for your mother. The door was thrown open as the horse came to a stop in front of the steps.

Feet raced towards you and your mother was out in the rain helping the wounded man from his horse. “Oh, darling,” she cried as she reunited with your father.

The other man wrapped an arm around your father’s back to lead him back into the house. Together with your mother, they got him up and into bed while you sent for the doctor.

Once the doctor arrived, you were making tea to serve to this other man who had accompanied your father home. Out of the corner of your eye, you appraised him.

He was handsome, albeit a tad scruffy. Then again, the war had run long and you figured that men weren’t as concerned with their physical appearance as much as they were concerned with survival.

“Tea, Captain?” you asked as you set the tray on the table.

“I’ll have a cup, since you went through all the trouble,” he murmured, taking the proffered saucer. He watched you wearily, a look of sympathy in his eyes.

“You must have ridden for a long time,” you murmured as you settled on the sofa across from him.

“We road for days, Miss,” he replied, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup, no doubt wishing it was something stronger. “After the battle, we were separated from our unit. Then we came across a few rebel scouts. Your father was injured while we... dispatched them. I promised him I’d get him home to recover.”

“Father’s last letter through the lines said he was marching South and we would not hear from him for a while. You’re meaning to tell me that you made your way through rebel lines just to get him home?” you asked, wide-eyed.

“Miss, the General has always had my back. I just wanted to have his,” he said with a small smile.

You nodded, “I see. Well, if you’ll excuse me, Captain...?”

“Torrance,” he murmured. “Dan Torrance.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain Torrance, I’d like to check on my father,” you replied, getting up to leave.

When you reached the upstairs bedroom, you found your father propped up in bed. His eyes lit up when he saw you, “Well, if it isn’t my pride and joy.”

Your corners of your eyes crinkled as you came over to sit on the edge of his bed. Taking his hand, you placed a kiss to his knuckles, “You gave mother quite a scare.”

“I always keep her on her toes,” he said playfully, but there was guilt in his eyes.

“We’re just glad you’re home,” you murmured, “Captain Torrance told me he snuck you through Rebel lines.”

“That the boy did. I’ll see to it that there’s a promotion in his future,” your father grinned. “He’s a fine man.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“And he’ll make a fine husband.”

“I’m sure his wife will be lucky to have him,” you replied absentmindedly.

“I’d like to see the two of you wed before he’s called back,” your father said pointedly.

“Wed?” you asked, trying to keep your voice under control. “But, father, I hardly know the man.”

“Darling, I want to know that should something happen to me, that you and your mother will be taken care of. I trust Captain Torrance with my life,” your father said adamantly.

“And I am expected to trust him with my heart?” you asked incredulously. Shaking your head in disbelief, you got up to leave, ignoring how your father called after you.

Making your way down the stairs, you locked eyes with the Captain through the doorway as he sat across from your mother, no doubt regaling her with tales of his bravery. You felt hollow. The world seemed to spin like when your corset had been laced too tight when you were younger. You needed air. Stumbling towards the door, you walked out into the sun shower, walking blindly towards the garden.

A sun shower, you thought with disdain, the sun shining because my father has returned, yet mourning the loss of my freedom.

Footsteps thudded on the ground behind you and the rain stopped pelting your back. You looked up to see an umbrella over your head as the holder stood in the downpour.

“I take it he told you,” Captain Torrance sighed.

“Were you expecting a blushing bride?” you sniffed, “Because you will be sorely mistaken.”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

You rounded on him, “Oh, so you don’t even want me?”

Somehow, that hurt worse. You could see it in his eyes that he knew he regretted the words.

“Please, just come back inside,” he pleaded.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded and followed him back into the house. You parted ways with him once inside, retreating to your room.

Captain Torrance stayed with your family, but you skirted around him to the best of your ability. Part of you figured that you should try to get to know him, seeing as he was to be your husband, but you needed to work through your own feelings first.

Anger melted into nervousness as your wedding day approached. As you stood in front of your mirror, turning this way and that in your dress, you felt your heart fluttering in your chest.

“He’s a nice man,” your mother stated from the doorway.

“So I’ve been led to believe,” you sighed, smoothing out your dress.

Your mother crossed over to pick up your veil from the vanity. Carefully, she nestled it into your hair. “Your father wouldn’t make this match if he didn’t trust him.”

“I know,” you admitted, turning towards her. “Part of me just hoped that I would have some say in such a momentous decision.”

“That’s a luxury few have,” your mother said with a small smile.

“But you love father,” you replied.

“I didn’t always,” she sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Your father and I were married as part of an arrangement our fathers made when they were at West Point together. It further solidified their friendship. Growing up, I greatly disliked your father.” She leaned in conspiratorially, “He used to pull my pigtails and made fun of my freckles during the summer.” A far away look entered her eyes. “Then we grew up. He was no longer that boyish brute I had known. He grew into a handsome man with kind eyes who protected me from the world. When we married, we were only friends, but my dear that is the best foundation. Love grew swiftly as we learned to laugh with one another. Then we had you,” she smiled wide, “and I realized that I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else.”

You leaned against your bed post, “Do you think I can have that with Captain Torrance?”

“I think you can have whatever you dream as long as you keep an open mind,” she replied, getting up. “Now, come along, dearest. Everyone is waiting.”

Nodding, you let your mother lead you down the stairs to where your father was waiting. You took his good arm and walked with him down the aisle.

Although the priest was speaking, you barely heard him over the thud of your heart. In truth, you weren’t very present in the moment. Instead, your mind was racing ahead to that night, wondering what was to become of you. Your betrothed vowed himself to you in words you did not hear, and you repeated your own back like you were reciting a poem. Captain Torrance’s hand was so warm around yours as he gave you reassuring squeezes every once in a while. Every squeeze brought you back to the moment and sent you drowning in a concerned pair of blue eyes.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride,” the priest stated.

You tensed up, expecting it to be awkward as Captain Torrance cupped your cheek and leaned in to kiss you. It was short and sweet, and for some reason you were disappointed. However, it wasn’t disappointment in the kiss itself. It was disappointment in the fact that it was so short.

The two of you turned out to face your guests, walking through them towards the reception. As you split apart to mingle, you came up with the brilliant idea of dancing the night away with anyone who would ask, hoping it would extend the night and make you too tired to perform your marital duties later. You took turn upon turn around the room, passing hands and entertaining your guests. At first, you didn’t care what your new husband did, catching him talking to your guests here and there out of the corner of your eye. However, you found it strange that he did not ask to cut in.

As the clock struck nine, you gracefully removed yourself from the dance floor to find him. He was nowhere in the house. Only when you stepped out into the cool night air did you find him on the porch with a glass in his hand. Drawing closer, you noticed it was just water.

“No liquid courage?” you teased.

A sad smile settled on his face as he looked down at the glass in his hands, “No. I only run on true courage or cowardice these days.”

“You can’t be a coward if any of the tales my father has told me this week are to be believed,” you murmured as you leaned against the railing next to him.

An awkward silence settled between the two of you as you looked out into the night. It was as if both of you didn’t know the words to say. You noticed him studying you, eyes trailing down your features as if trying to memorize them. His hand rested inches from yours, but he didn’t dare to move it closer.

“You don’t have to worry,” he said softly, “I’m never going to touch you.”

“Then what exactly do you get out of this arrangement?” you asked, turning to face him.

“Enough that I won’t ever demand that of you,” he replied.

“Right,” you smiled ruefully, “I’m sure the stocks in my father’s company that he undoubtedly gave you can buy you the finest ladies.” The words were said with a tinge of resentment at the fact that you were now trapped in a marriage while he could still look elsewhere.

Dan wet his lips before turning away, “I refused them. After all, I didn’t earn them.”

You turned to him in shock, “Then what do you get out o this arrangement?”

“A companion,” he said before downing the rest of his drink, “Now, we should head back inside before our guests miss us. After all, I believe I owe you a dance. If you aren’t too tired of dancing yet, that is.” He held his arm out to you. After a moment of bewilderment, you took it, allowing him to lead you back into the fray.

Once inside, his smile slid back on his face and you somehow felt at ease. But, in the back of your mind you registered just how strange your situation was. You were the wife of Captain Torrance. You knew he was a good man, but in your heart you also knew you had just married an enigma. There was so much more beneath the surface that you could only wonder if you would ever truly know him.

#dan torrance x reader #dan torrance #doctor sleep #dan x reader

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crimes-inc · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 1

CW: blood, injury, death threats

2130 words (I really don’t know how it ended up this long, it’s 1:45 am on day 2 oh god)

Let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming prompts or need certain things tw tagged!

All Trussed Up and Still Nowhere to Go

Barbed Wire | Bound

The sign on the self-storage entrance stated they closed at 10. Yet here he was at the exit at 9:47 rattling the padlock uselessly against the surrounding metal of the gate.

Chase stubbornly, and perhaps desperately, gave it one last shake before turning away with a grimace. There’s no way they closed-up shop early with him still inside, right? He only had a few boxes to store away between moves and hadn’t been here that long, maybe half an hour. Hell, he signed a check-in sheet, wouldn’t they be responsible for making sure everyone had signed to check out as well?

The smart thing to do would be to give the owners a call, but Chase had decided to just leave his phone in his car to avoid losing track of it while he moved a few boxes back and forth between the unit and the parking lot. The “smart thing” wasn’t an option.

“Not exactly well-known for ‘smart things’ anyway.” he muttered to himself.

God, he could kick himself. If he ended up stuck here all night, then the morning wasn’t going to be too bright once his phone is blown up with missed messages. Stacy would be as pissed off as ever and just use the incident as another nail in his parental rights coffin, regardless of whether the kids were involved or not. Explaining his humiliating plight to Jackie or Schneep would just lead to two different well-meaning lectures on shit he already knew but can’t seem to get right. Maybe Marvin would laugh the whole thing off but the magician’s attitude towards danger and plain dumbass-ery seemed to change with the tide so there was no telling what he’d say.

Damn it, Chase, think! That’s later, focus on NOW. he chided himself.

He straightened his snapback hat and strode away from the padlock. Someone had to still be floating around, or maybe there was another exit he could use that would automatically lock behind him. After all, he figured the gate, fence, and locks were mostly there to keep people from getting in, not out.

He stole a glance at the high fence surrounding the lot, razor wire lining the bottom and three strings of wire leaning outwards towards the top. Yeah, definitely meant to keep people out. Still, that looked like a wickedly dangerous climb. He’d rather risk the sleepless night inside than getting torn to shreds to get out if he didn’t have to.

He straightened up and walked around the main office, also locked of course, but there was a security camera attached to the awning. Maybe if he…?

Chase jumped up and down waving up at the little white device. It was a long shot but maybe somebody was watching or could send someone his way at the very least. If not, well… if someone ever looked back at the tape, they’d get a little entertainment from the idiot hopping around on-screen. Not so different than his youtube channel if he was honest.

Chase checked his watch again: a crappy digital thing his daughter dug out of a box of Cheerios after he accidentally drowned his Apple Watch in the kitchen sink. “It’s glow-in-the-dark!” She’d declared to him with a proud grin. Chase gave a sad smile back at the face of Shrek strapped on his wrist. He hadn’t seen her face in weeks now.

He swiped at his eyes, recomposing himself. Hell of a time to get swept up in his broken family situation. It was nearly ten now, if there were any remaining workers around, he needed to find them quick.

“Hello?” he shouted, “Anyone still here? Kinda locked in…”

Chase made his way further into the maze of units, keeping his eyes peeled for an employee, caught between hope and hopelessness with each step he took.

Eventually, as he started closing in on the opposite end of the lot, he heard footsteps. He perked up and walked toward the sound.

“Hey, is someone there?” he called out. “Gate’s locked up front and I—”

The sound of the footsteps quickened its pace, and, wait, that sounds like a second pair but it was coming from…

Chase pivoted around in place just in time to see a man bring a pipe down on his head.

He came to in a daze, eyes fluttering open and closed, only vaguely aware of someone dragging his limp body along the pavement. He didn’t even remember falling, and his head was pounding heavily against his skull.

“—thought you said the place was cleared out!”

“Look,” the man gripping Chase said, “I saw closing shift take off, how was I supposed to know some idiot would still be wandering around?”

“Maybe the fucking remaining car in the parking lot would have tipped you off, Shane!”

“What the fuck do you want me to say? I only saw what the cameras were showing before shutting them off completely.”

A third voice joined in, “Shut up, that asshole was making too much noise as it is—let’s just hope he’s the only one around, we’ve pulled too many strings to turn back now.”

Chase felt himself get propped none-too-gently against the outer wall of a unit. He didn’t dare open his eyes. Whatever situation he’d stumbled into, he wasn’t in safe hands and any struggle he put up in his disoriented state would be a losing battle from the get-go. By the sound of things, these people had managed to break into a unit and were rummaging for goods.

The man knelt next to him again and held Chase’s arms together. The loud, sticky sound of duct tape rang out before Chase felt it be looped around his wrists a couple times. Once secure, he stood and turned away.

“Okay then,” the man—Shane—said in a more hushed tone, “the job’s not blown. But what do we do with him, Joseph? I don’t think he got a good look at me before I took him down. We might be able to set him loose once we clear out.”

“That’s a mighty big assumption.”

Chase tensed as the man named Joseph stepped closer to him. A hand was placed on his shoulder as he was shifted forward. He felt his wallet and car keys be slipped out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“Hm. No phone. Eh, we’ll check his car later. See if anyone knows he’s here.” The man mumbled to himself. No one spoke as the contents were searched through.

Chase’s mind was becoming frantic. This seemed beyond just petty theft. While he was glad he hadn’t let on that he was conscious for fear of immediate and violent action, he didn’t know how he’d get out of this without a clear look at his surroundings and his arms taped up.

“Chase Brody. Ugh. Family type, good god, there’s more fucking kid photos in here than cash.”

Joseph paused another moment, most likely pocketing whatever cash Chase had had on him before. Chase was doing his best not to so much as swallow.

“No cops, no witnesses.” He announced, “I’m not blowing this job because some motherfucking dumbass was in the wrong place at the wrong time. We’ll drive him out a few miles and get rid of him. Edith, drive his car over and we can just dump him there. See if the client will throw in a bonus for the trouble.”

As his car keys were tossed to the woman named Edith, Chase snapped his eyes open and kicked Joseph’s legs out from beneath him, causing him to stumble to the ground. Chase shot up as quickly as he could and sprinted away from the thieves. Blood was pounding in his ears. Shit, he didn’t know where to even go. The main gate was still locked, those assholes had probably managed to cut their way through the fence. That probably wasn’t an option for him since he didn’t know where it was or if there were more of them…

He heard cursing somewhere behind him, prompting him to go faster and take a turn down another row. He wasn’t getting out of here, he wasn’t getting out of here. It would only be a matter of time before they caught up to him and they might just kill him on the spot now that he’s proven himself a runner.

At least I managed to get a decent shin-kick in before I die. Chase thought.

He shook the grim thought away, no, he wasn’t dying here tonight and he wasn’t going to uselessly beg to be let go. He was getting out.

Chase began chewing at the frayed edge of the duct tape on his wrists, shimmying his hands the best he could. It was only a little bit of give, but he pumped his wrists sharply against his chest. It took a few tries but finally on the third try, the twisted duct tape broke free.

He peeled the grey adhesive away from his skin and made a sharp turn directly for the tall, barbed fence. He leapt up as high as he could, his right hand just barely missing a barb, and started maneuvering his way up.

“THERE!” a shout came from behind him. Too frightened to look back, he started climbing faster. While trying to be careful about his hands, the soles of his shoes seemed to keep getting snagged on the jagged metal forcing him to stop and kick himself free every few inches higher he seemed to get.

“I’m gonna cut him off on the other side—”

“Don’t bother, Shane, the fence will tear him to shreds before he reaches the top. He’s got nowhere to go.” Joseph said, “Grab his leg. Once he falls, hold onto him, and I’ll tear him into finer pieces.”

Chase kicked his foot free and started grabbing blindly higher. It was just blood, just a few punctures and cuts, he was going back home alive tonight. Scars, be damned. He could feel someone’s hand flail at the cuff of his jeans below him, urging him to climb faster, not daring to look down.

He reached the top. His hand reached the top of the bar to keep his balance, and he hoisted his legs up to stand on it precariously. The way the fence curved the three lines of razor wire outward was going to be tricky but he could—

The fence shuddered beneath him, as the man Joseph threw his weight against the chainlink below, Chase’s foot fell forward and he fell against the three wires bodily, barbs, piercing his shoulder and chest through his shirt. He let out a short scream, trying to free himself from it. The fence shook again as Chase picked himself slowly off the wires, flinging his left leg over to the other side, not quite reaching a foothold below him. His other leg grazed against the wire again, blood slowly cascading down his calf.

His left foot finally managed to find a resting point and he gripped the wire with his hand as he started to work his whole body over and down—the fence shook a third time. Both feet slid out from underneath Chase as his shoulder and hands caught all his weight against the wire, making a slick, sharp red line from the crook of his elbow to his shoulder, and his hands spilling blood through his grip. He released the wire and reached for a lower hold when his other hand let off too soon sending Chase to the ground below.

He landed hard on the ground, just outside the self-storage, one leg partially caught in the coil of barbed wire waiting at the bottom. His body screamed in agony, though Chase himself was breathless, the wind knocked out of him from the fall. He scrambled to his feet, adrenaline and desperation taking over and ran. Whatever profanities and threats were being shouted behind him being drown out in the wind and the turmoil of fear echoing in Chase’s mind as he bled and ran away, away from his captors, his would-be murderers.

Eventually, the injuries began catching up to him, though it seemed the thieves had not. Shit, he was going to need a fuck-ton of stitches. What had started as minor abrasions had become horrible, open and freely-bleeding gashes. Hopefully the hit he’d taken to the head earlier would become nothing more than a goose egg.

The humiliating phone call to his friends about being locked in a self-storage was seeming like a great idea about now. Fortunately for Chase, an upcoming 24-hour convenience store was waiting for him just ahead, and inside, a man with a red hoodie and a slurpee was working the counter tonight.

#Whumptober2021 #jacksepticeye #jse egos #writers of jack #tw blood #tw injury #whumptober day 1 #chase brody #first time posting online #jacksepticeye fanfiction #barbed wire #bound

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fandomsilhouette · 4 years

Text

you found me in the ashes then (and taught me how to thrive)

The glass he makes is fragile and firm, shatters at the touch of his hand but holds the weight of his whole heart strong and steady. It melts in the heat and bends to his touch, reshaped by the palms of his hands. Felix has left his mark, made something beautiful, something he could call art.

There are scars on his hands from the cuts and the burns. Looking at them in the morning light, the crisscrossed lines look like art too.

Happy @felixmonth, y’all!

Marinette doesn’t forgive him, necessarily. He’s too far gone for that, and he doesn’t expect anything more than… well, he had expected her to burn the pillow at first sight but clearly that didn’t happen. Felix finds himself absurdly, ridiculously grateful for every smile she sends his way. It’s not often, and usually in passing, but he’s finally getting to see more than the tips of her hair as she rushes around a corner and disappears. He missed this. Felix hadn’t realized how much.

He also finds himself going back to the library, missing his kids (his kids? when did that happen?) and wondering how they’d been all summer. He’s surprised when most of them even remember him, ask about where he’s been and beg for their favorite stories to be read first.

A little girl with black hair all tied up in pigtails pushes a book at him. Felix has never read it before, and, ignoring the guilt that comes with choosing a book out of simple curiosity, picks it up. Savvy, he reads, by Ingrid Law. The children settle down, and he starts reading.

There’s something relaxing about beanbag chairs and bookshelves, and the warmth of a child like a cat on his lap. There’s something relaxing about reading children’s books, too: they reach to the deepest parts of his childhood Felix has yet to shed and call to him, pull him apart into all the pieces he’s broken into and find the spaces where the glass doesn’t fit and smoothes it over, burns him in the light of being seen and heals him in the same breath. There’s no judgement in reading it to the children. They’re a free pass to exploring the themes he skipped over as a child. Felix holds onto it with both hands.

In the book, Mibs climbs onto a bus and hitchhikes her way to her Poppa, injured in the hospital. On the way there, she learns how to work her savvy, and learns that her strongest power is the one she’s had all along. Felix’s heart aches to have a power like that, to be able to touch someone and know what they feel, what they need. He wishes he knew how to be the person that the people around him need.

“Mister Felix, you are what we need.” The little girl in his lap snuggles into his stomach and sighs, half asleep. Most of the other kids have wandered off or nodded off, holding their parents’ hands or clutching at their collar. He hadn’t meant to whisper it out loud. He’s sort of glad he did.

“Where are your parents, noodle?” Her name is Maggie, but Felix calls her anything but. Her favorite is noodle, and he’s inclined to use it when she’s all soft spoken and sweet like this, wiggly and melted in his lap.

“I dunno, I lost ‘em.” She makes no move to get up. Felix shrugs off his jacket and tucks it in around her, and starts in on the second book in the series. Her parents come to pick her up two books later, just as he’s wrapping up the last one, and he lets her take his jacket with her. She wears it gleefully, sleeves hanging past her fingertips and one shoulder sliding off. Her arms wave just to flap the sleeves and her eyes light up when her mama spins her around. He doesn’t expect to get it back.

Marinette shows up with it two weeks later at camp with a note and a messily stitched cat, grinning.

“You have a secret admirer.” The cat is stitched in with the same gap-toothed stitching that shows in the uncontainable joy of Maggie’s smile. On the back, in that messy careful writing, she’s scrawled “You are your own savvy!” Felix’s heart bursts. She’s too young to be so clever. She’s just young enough.

“Very secret, mhm. Definitely.” And then he manages a wink, and that turns into a full blown smirk when Marinette turns pink. She hands him the jacket and Felix doesn’t jump when their fingers brush. It’s been washed out and has that lingering little kid smell, overlaid with something that smells like bakery and flowers. That night is Felix’s turn to fall asleep tucked into a jacket that feels like it fits just right.

Marinette doesn’t avoid him that summer, but she doesn’t seek him out either. It’s a strange truce to be in, to go on hikes on paths they used to walk together, to see his messy stitches propped up against her neat ones in the project storage of the arts and crafts room. Felix makes an effort to wave, to nod at Nino and ask about his new music, to talk to the younger years when they get lost or lonely. Felix finds he has so many stories memorized from how often he read them at the library. He does voices, and the youngest campers are enthralled. The older ones are, too, but they skulk around at the edges, keep themselves busy with something else and act like they aren’t paying attention. Felix leans in, winks at them, and catches a little boy around the waist, throws him up in the air. The older campers laugh at the shock on his face, and when Felix gets overrun with kids demanding attention, he waves over the rest and slips out once everyone is laughing.

He runs into Marinette leaning against a wall outside, waving Nino off so he can catch up with Luka. Felix can see the blush even on Nino’s dark skin, and tries something new. A nod, a wave, something encouraging and bright instead of sneering or snide.

“I was waiting for you.” Her voice is teasing and light and makes Felix blush. He doesn’t respond. “You’re pretty cute with those kids, y’know. Allan is especially fond of you, he won’t stop talking about the voices you do.”

“...you know them?”

She snorts and pushes herself up, starts walking away. “I’ve been teaching them arts and crafts for years, so… yeah. I do.” There’s something sharp in her tone, chiding and playful all at once, and Felix’s heart races. He watches her back, her ponytail swinging, and worries. She pauses. “Aren’t you coming? You’re going to get caught in the rain again if you don’t hurry.” Then she winks, and takes off at a jog.

Felix laughs in delight, shakes off the first raindrops on his skin and chases after her, a few steps behind but getting closer.

By the time they’ve sat down with their lunch, the rain is coming down heavily. Marinette waves and splits off to find Nino, and Felix wanders over to an empty table. He can still see her, animated, waving and gesturing wildly, and Nino laughs with her. She glances over at Luka and Nino pulls a face, but he slides down into his seat too. When Marinette laughs, Felix does too.

By 3PM, not a lot of people are left laughing. The rain is coming down hard, and with everyone stuck in the great hall with nowhere to go, counselors are rapidly losing any ability to keep everyone entertained. By 5, everyone’s irritated and scared, itching to be back in their own cabins or outside or anywhere else. There’s general discontent growing across the room. Felix slips away from his table to make space for the growing group of upset children huddling together in support and slinks into a corner. Cabin fever is setting in, which makes Felix almost smile. They aren’t in their cabins, and the irony would make him laugh if he wasn’t so listless-lost-lonely in this crowded hall. Thunder rumbles. Felix’s spine shivers in time with the skies.

He’s still watching Marinette. He doesn’t know what that says about him.

She hasn't looked back at him, but the lightning strikes and she makes her way away from the seat she’s curled up in for the last five hours. Nino sticks his tongue out behind her and she does the same back to him before turning around to look at Felix. There’s lightning again, sure, but it’s in her thundercloud-blue eyes.

It’s shockingly beautiful.

She slides down the wall, her shoulder barely brushing his. Electricity shoots across his skin and he shudders. Half an hour passes like that, each second tapped out with the beat of his pounding heart.

Her voice is quiet when she finally speaks.

“...why did you do it?” She’s not looking at him, but he can hear the strength it takes her to ask the question out loud. Felix draws circles in the dust on the floor with his finger.

“I… wish I could tell you. I don’t know, Marinette. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I just want to know why.” She pauses. “I… Nino says I shouldn’t care or I should ask you and get it over with, and I’ve never been one to not take my own advice.” Marinette doesn’t explain that statement and Felix doesn’t ask her to; in the time that Marinette’s been here, Nino has been edging his way towards Luka.

“My… mother. I just… I spent so much time around people who just…” Words slip away from Felix and frustration roils in his gut. It’s bitter and biting and hurts, and he screws his face up, clenches his fists. Marinette looks away and leans into his space, and he feels seen and safely hidden all at once. “…this is going to sound so dumb, but I didn’t… I didn’t know what happiness looked like. I thought… I just… that’s what people did, okay? Growing up, everyone who smiled at me wanted something, and usually something I couldn’t afford to give. So instead it was torn out of me and after a while… you start seeing smiles with all their bloody teeth when all they’re used for is taking a bite out of you.”

She doesn’t look at him, doesn’t speak. It feels like the walls are closing in, squeezing at his heart. The fever spikes. Felix thinks he might be sick; he gropes blindly for water and gulps it down.

“I really did want to be your friend. I don’t know what it looks like but it’s damn hard making friends. Chloe spent the first whole decade of my life tearing down any scrap of self esteem I had. By the time I even figured out how to stand on my own two feet, everyone else had managed to make friend groups and build social skills and I was years behind. I worked hard to catch up. I made my way here and I refuse to be called manipulative for being kind.” Words come pouring out of her, like she spent the last half hour building them up behind a dam just to let them all burst now. They wash over Felix like waves, cool on his burning skin.

“I think I’m… starting to get that, yeah.” He tries for a joke: “As it happens, I happen to be pretty behind too.” It makes her laugh, and pride wells in his smug grin. She bumps into his shoulder.

“You’re not too bad, y’know. I’ve seen you with them.” She nods at the kids and then weighs her words on the scales of her tongue, decides to speak. “Thank you, Felix. I forgive you.”

“Thank you, Marinette. You’re… not too bad yourself.”

Counselors start bringing out dinner and the children rouse. By dessert, Marinette is singing and the kids come gather around her to listen, to sing along in their warbling voices. She nods at Felix and he joins in too; then someone demands stories and between the two of them, they manage to get through three Disney movies. She doesn’t move from beside him the whole time.

She falls asleep first, still stuck in the great hall while the clouds pour down, tilts onto his shoulder. Felix doesn’t do anything but slide down until she’s comfortable, and keeps telling stories until his voice gives out and the campers are passed out around them.

Come morning, the sun breaks through the clouds, bright and bold and shining. Felix wakes up to it, revels in the light of the morning sun, and grins.

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captainseaweedbrains · 4 years

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The Dance of the Color Guard, Op.64 Chapter 1

Katniss and Peeta used to be best friends when they were kids, but now in high school, they're barely on speaking terms. It isn't until they are forced together as the titular star-crossed lovers for their marching band's field show that they will have to face their past mistakes and try to get along if they ever hope of defeating the notorious Capitol Height's Imperial Marching Crusaders in competition.

It's all about winning and if that means pretending to be in love with Peeta Mellark, so be it.

But a lot can happen in six months.

Tumblr: x

Ao3: x x

April—Six Months Earlier

“Don’t be so obvious,” her music stand partner Leevy whispered in amusement, “but Peeta Mellark is staring at you again.”

“What?” Katniss looked straight up, not even pretending to be subtle, and locked eyes with the first chair trumpet player sitting directly across the room from her. His eyes widened for a moment, probably assuming she wouldn’t catch his stare with the clarinet section in front of him, but instead of looking away like a normal person would after being caught, Peeta Mellark smiled at her, his right eyebrow raising suggestively in question. Katniss gripped her flute and pointedly turned back to her music, knowing her section would be criticized next on their sloppy runs.

He liked to do that every so often during rehearsal, look at her like she was some kind of joke that amused him. Get her all flustered with those stupid eyebrows and smiles. Leevy enjoyed pointing it out all the time, drawing kissy faces with their initials in hearts on their shared music that Katniss would then furiously erase because what if someone saw that? People in band were gossipy enough with who was dating whom and who broke up with whom.

She didn’t want anyone thinking she had a crush on Peeta Mellark.

Mr. Abernathy, their band director, stepped between them on his podium, breaking any eye contact Peeta could make on her, and tapped his baton on his stand to grab everyone’s attention. “Okay, listen up, ya mangy teens! A few announcements before you all age me once more with your apparent lack of practicing. First being, next season’s field show—”

“Oh, can I say it?” Miss Trinket, their assistant director, asked, already pushing Mr. Abernathy off the podium. Miss Trinket was a small wispy woman, her height mainly due to the massive heels she sported no matter the season, but despite her title and small stature, it was clear to anyone with eyes who was in charge of any decision making for the band program.

Miss Trinket cleared her throat, smiling brightly as the room waited with anticipation.

Marching season was one of the biggest things they did in the school year. Everyone looked forward to it and a strong field show could finally mean getting Athens Ridge High’s Marching Gladiators to finals and beating the crap out of their arch rivals: the rich snooty Capitol Heights Academy’s Imperial Marching Crusaders.

Every year they always came so close to beating them, but Capitol Heights had the money for large expensive props and Athens Ridge did not. They were lucky enough to have been able to afford new marching uniforms a few years back, replacing the threadbare grey ones with sleek black and gold. Mr. Abernathy always reminded everyone that he didn’t care about winning, nor did he give a rat’s ass about Capitol Heights and all their achievements. All he cared about was that they performed to the best of their ability and marched off the field with pride, but Katniss wanted their band to be the best. Everyone in the Athens Ridge band did.

“Can I get a drumroll, please?” Miss Trinket asked, looking pointedly to Gale in the back.

Gale rolled his eyes, but started the roll on his snare drum.

“This year’s marching show is…” Another dramatic pause.

“Will you just tell them, woman? This ain’t the Oscars,” Mr. Abernathy snapped, sick of all her flairs and dramatics. “We’re doing Romeo & Juliet. There. Now get off my podium.”

Miss Trinket held her ground, her pale features brightening under her anger, making her purple-streaked hair stand out more than usual. “Haymitch—!”

Everyone watched, entertained by yet another round of the two directors going at it once more. Katniss turned to look back at Gale, the head keeper of the betting pool, and he signed another two months before their directors would go at it like rabbits. She shook her head, laughing quietly to herself, and turned back to watch as the directors duked it out.

“I’ve heard the music to this field show,” Leevy said after practice, cleaning out her flute. “It’s really pretty. I can see why Miss Trinket picked it.”

Katniss carefully tucked her flute back in its case, giving it one final shine before locking it shut. “You think Miss Trinket picked it?”

Leevy laughed and threw a pointed look over to where Mr. Abernathy sat slunk in his chair, stained coffee mug in hand as he scowled at some piece of paper. “I highly doubt Mr. Abernathy would choose a show like Romeo & Juliet without some heavy outside persuasion.”

She had a point there.

As they waited by the door, ready to book it the second the bell rang, Katniss and Leevy rolled their eyes at the chaos in front of them. Thresh Armstrong, a tuba player known for sneaking in toys from home, had brought out a foam football and had tossed it over to Johanna Mason, one of the smart ass percussionists, who almost crashed into the chimes trying to catch it. She held the ball up in victory and the guys around her hooted and hollered in applause. With a dramatic bow, she tossed it to Gale behind her, who caught it and called out for his girlfriend Madge to catch. Madge squealed in shock when the ball hit her in the back of the head, throwing the ball back at him in protest.

“You’d think Abernathy would put a stop to that,” Leevy commented, laughing despite herself when the ball nailed Marvel Baxter in the face. “People can get hurt.”

“Maybe he wants to see assholes like Marvel get hit in the face, too,” Katniss snorted, glad she got to witness it. “Do you think we’ll get to see Cato get hit in the face?” she asked, eyeing the bulky blond in the far corner with interest.

“Doubt it.” Cato Martin was that stereotypical asshole who thought he walked on water and expected everyone to treat him as thus. And the sickening part was that people did. The school’s star quarterback was praised constantly in their school paper for his dedication to both the school’s athletic department and music department, despite being last chair in Symphonic Band and always being hounded for how bad he played by Mr. Abernathy. Despite his assholery, though, he always had a gaggle of followers around him, probably praising him for breathing.

Katniss hated him so much, and it wasn’t just because they were locker neighbors and she was constantly having to shove him and whatever girl he was making out with off her own locker to squeeze in. Or that, since the 7th grade, he’s only referred to her as “Katnips Everslip” after a very unfortunate wardrobe malfunction at the community pool. Or even that time he taped rubber baby bottle nipples all over her locker sophomore year and only received a slap on the wrist by their dean, Mr. Flickerman, because he didn’t realize how offensive it was and he was so so sorry. Yeah, Cato sucked and she hated him for all those things and more, but she hated him most because Cato Martin was that entitled ass who just expected things to be given to him. He never faced any consequences and those were the worst kind of people.

Laughing at Marvel and his botched up nose, her eyes briefly caught Peeta’s and the amusement she felt seeing Marvel get nailed in the face vanished instantly. Every bully had that one lackey who wasn’t really an asshole, but was kind of one by association because he just went along with anything the bully did. Yeah, that lackey was Peeta Mellark. Which somehow made it even worse. She knew Peeta. Used to be friends with him in elementary school, back when your neighborhood friends were your whole world and nothing could come between you. Now he was just one of Cato’s goons who blindly followed whatever Golden Ass commanded.

“Are you auditioning for color guard again?” Leevy asked, snapping Katniss’s attention back to her friend.

“Huh?”

Leevy’s eyes followed where hers had been and Katniss pretended not to notice the knowing smirk on her friend’s face, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve instead. “Are you trying out for color guard this year?” she asked again.

“Of course.” Katniss flushed at her sure answer, but she always did color guard. It was kind of her thing, especially since Miss Trinket had singled her out freshman year, snatching 14-year-old Katniss off the practice field where she had been marching with her fellow flute players. “You’ve got the perfect arms,” Miss Trinket had told her and she’d been part of color guard ever since.

“I’m hoping for captain, actually,” Katniss admitted, looking down at her beat-up sneakers. She hadn’t told anyone but Prim that, afraid she’d jinx it by putting it out in the universe too much, but going into senior year next season, she’d be the most experienced one auditioning. The odds were definitely in her favor, but the universe also had a tendency of fucking things up when she least expected it and she didn’t want to chance it.

Leevy sighed. “I wish you’d stay with the flutes. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to deal with that”—she pointed at the giggly flute players who were now fawning over Cato like lovesick puppies—"all by myself.”

Katniss gave her friend a sympathetic pat on the arm. “I’d rather shoot myself in the eye than have to deal with Golden Ass’ fan club. Why don’t you try out? You’re small, like me. I bet Miss Trinket would love that.” Their assistant director would be beside herself with joy at having another petite person in guard she could have tossed around. Miss Trinket was always complaining how there were too many tall girls nowadays and that it limited her “vision.”

Leevy shook her head. “Oh, no. No, I don’t think I could ever do what you all do. Who would trust me to throw something in the air and expect me to catch it? And the way you did those handsprings for last year’s show?” She shook her head again in amazement. “I can’t even balance on one foot without falling. I’m nowhere near as talented as you.”

Katniss’ cheeks darkened again at Leevy’s appraisal. Those handsprings were a bitch to grasp, she remembered, and the only reason she was the one doing them wasn’t because Trinket saw her as some talented goddess. No, it was just because everyone else was too afraid of doing them without any type of mat underneath them and Katniss wasn’t. She was about to tell her friend this—that yeah, she was pretty good with a flag and rifle, but all that can be taught and Leevy’s lack of gymnastic talent shouldn’t stop her from auditioning—when the foam football smacked her hard on the side of her head.

“What the hell?” She scanned the chaotic room for the culprit, rubbing at the spot where the ball hit. “Who threw that?”

The culprit in question raised his hand apologetically and jogged over to pick the blue ball off the ground. Her hands balled into fists.

Peeta Mellark.

Of course.

“My bad!” he apologized, smiling down at her in that totally non-assery way that just pissed her off more. “I was trying to throw the ball to Glimmer and—” he started to explain, casually pointing behind him with his thumb.

“Your aim sucks that much?” she fumed, interrupting him. Glimmer was clear across the room by the other French horn players, far from where she and Leevy stood. “That could have hit my eye!”

There was a time, long ago, when she was once taller than him. She used to jokingly lean on Peeta while they waited in lines at school or the grocery store, calling him squirt and messing up his curly blond hair like his dad did, laughing when he’d scowl and pull away, hating that nickname. He always vowed he’d reach his growth spurt someday soon, just like his brothers, and she’d be sorry she ever called him squirt. Peeta stood almost a foot taller than her now, but she stood her ground. Glaring up at him, she considered using the old nickname, just to see if it rattled him

There was no way his aim was that bad. They’d had the same gym class for almost six years now and she knew he wasn’t terrible. Peeta was one of those guys things just came naturally to, especially sports. For years she has watched as he made the winning pass in basketball, smacked a volleyball down to score like nobody’s business, swiped the puck in during hockey. She smelled bullshit.

This was probably some stupid dare Cato or Marvel put him up to. She eyed Marvel off to the side, still rubbing his nose. He was probably pissed at her for laughing at him and thought it’d be funny watching her get nailed in the face, too. Let’s see how hard the ball can bounce off Katnips Everslip’s tiny head! she could hear the idiots snickering. Marvel always did have a small ego. And of course, like always, Peeta just went along with it because that’s what Peeta did. Just go along with anything his friends suggested, even if meant injuring an innocent bystander.

“So why’d you throw it at me?” she point-blank asked, crossing her arms. “Did Marvel put you up to it? Cato?”

His face quickly went from apologetic smiles to annoyance, rolling his eyes at her sneer. “You know, Katniss, believe it or not, accidents do happen.”

“Accident? Please,” she scoffed. “I know you, Peeta. You don’t do accidents. Everything you do is strategically planned and executed with exact precision. So who dared you? It was Marvel, wasn’t it?”

He looked back at his buddies and laughed, shaking his head incredulously. “I’m touched that you think I’m so robotic, Katniss, truly, but believe whatever the fuck you want. I said it was an accident because it was an accident.”

“Just answer the question.”

“I already did.” He leaned toward her, his dark blue eyes mocking, and tapped the football on her nose with a smug smile, walking back over to his friends. Some of the guys made kissy faces at his return, laughing when Peeta shoved them to quit it, but he was laughing along with them.

Katniss’ nails dug into her palms as she watched them, briefly wondering if someone could be glared to death. God, they were the worst.

“Wow,” Leevy breathed, watching the trumpet players, too. “The sexual tension is strong today. Felt like I was in a movie just now.”

She turned to her friend, incredulous. “Sexual tension? With Peeta Mellark?” She gagged at the thought. “Did you not just see him be a complete ass to me? He hit me with a football!”

“Yeah and apologized for it.” Katniss rolled her eyes at the low standard bar Leevy had for apologies. Peeta’s apology was obviously fake and what about that annoying ball tap to the nose? Did she not see how condescending that was? “You two are so going to bone by the end of this year.”

The bell rang before Katniss could choke out a rebuttal.

#Everlark fanfiction #The Hunger Games fanfiction #Everlark fanfic #Everlark #The Hunger Games #My writing #Marching band fic #The Dance of the Color Guard Op. 64 #I hope you all enjoy #Let me know what you think!#:)

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold - Pt.8

The Truth-bearer

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2510

Summary: Avenger!reader AU. Part 2 of Melting Hearts series. Part 1 HERE.

Tony creates a superbot. Oh joy - because thats exactly what Steve needs now. Oh and let’s not forget the enhanced individuals... that sent him into a nightmare taht feels all too real.

(Dealing with A:AOU, pt.1)

Warnings: swearing, angst, semi-consensual medical procedures, blood, torture...yep, this one is ugly

Story Masterlist

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Steve didn’t know why he had been hoping his search for Bucky would go any better than his search for you. The results were down to zero; trying to take down the remaining HYDRA bases was not leaving much time for his own investigation in the first place. Bucky was another person he was failing – again.

You were gone. Bucky was gone. None of locked up HYDRA operatives felt like victory to him, despite the team objectively winning. Time dragged.

The Avengers regaining the Asgardian sceptre was a perfect excuse for Tony to throw a party, especially with Thor staying for it. Steve was in no mood for celebrations, meeting individuals enhanced due to experiments – one of them a young woman – bringing back the memories of you too heavily.

But in the end – with the help of Asgardian liquor – he found himself forgetting the weight on his shoulders wearing him down, if only for few moments.

And then Tony’s artificial intelligence appeared with the goal of destroying the world, it apparently made an ally with the enhanced Maximoff twins, and Steve had no time to mope at all.

That was until they went after a man who got his hands on vibranium and a strange energy hit his head, making him dizzy; his eyes fallen shut for a short moment and when he opened them again, things were just not the same.

Steve found himself in a spacious ballroom, loud swing music attacking his ears. He blinked in shock, looking around cautiously.

What the-

An explosion blinded him for a second and he automatically crouched – except no, it wasn’t an explosion, it was just a flash of a camera, an attempt to capture the lively entertainment, men and women dancing together, flirtatious and animated moves, laughter seconding the tune played by the band on the stage.

A bang sounded on his left and he fought the urge to cover his head, the insuppressible instinct gained by years of fighting. It was just one of the waiters opening a bottle of champagne. No guns. No guns anywhere, despite another man in a well-fitting suit cleaning his friends’ jacket – Steve would think he had been shot with the crimson liquid covering his clothes, but he could see few more drops of red wine remaining in the glass in his hand; and of course, everyone around was laughing again.

The resemblance of war in the frisky party was terrifying and Steve found himself wishing to rather be on the battlefield where red meant blood and loud noises meant gunshots – because that he knew how to work with.

“Steve,” soft female voice addressed him and he quickly spun on his heels to face the woman he once loved.

If she hadn’t spoken, it would have taken him a while to recognize Agent Carter, Peggy, young and beautiful, unlike him not wearing a uniform. No, Peggy was all dolled up, pretty blue dress and her lipstick dark shade of red, drawing attention to her mouth curled up in a hesitant smile.

“Are you ready for our dance?” she asked expectantly, and Steve gulped, his nerves working. He started at the woman, grateful when another loud bang gave him an excuse to look away.

What— how? Peggy had grown old, he had been asleep for years, frozen in ice. He had woken up in a modern world, not in this, this wasn’t-- this looked like the times too familiar to him, the times of World War II., the-

“The war is over, Steve. We can go home,” Peggy’s voice suggested gently and Steve slowly turned his head back to her.

Only to find you in her place, a soft inviting smile on your lips. His heart stopped, his breath hitching. The music faded away into slower melody, calmer, but beautiful.

“Snowflake,” escaped his lips unwittingly, the nickname, the endearment so foreign on his tongue after such a long time.

You were here. Wherever this was, whatever this was, you were here, alive and well, pretty red dress flattering your lean figure, making his eyes roam over it before his gaze settled at your face. Your expression was one of shy ones and slightly amused at his awe.

“I know. Blue suits me better, right?” you laughed bashfully, lowering your gaze and it was all it took to Steve’s feet to cross the distance and he pulled you in for a tight hug. “Steve?”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he breathed out shakily, nuzzling his face in your hair. Tears stung in his eyes, but he ignored them, indulging the sensation of your body pressed to his, your light perfume tickling his nostrils, your hair soft against his skin. “And you look lovely in red.”

Your body shook with hushed laughter and you melted into his embrace, your ear over his heart. Steve loved when you did that, reminding him that his heartbeat was as important to you as yours was to him.

“Are we gonna dance, Steve?”

Steve smiled against your scalp, planting a tender kiss there. “Of course. If you want to. But you know I’m not much of a dancer.”

You pushed against his chest a little with your rather tiny palms, looking up and rewarding him with a gorgeous smile. Your eyes twinkled with happiness.

“You being my partner is what will make it special even if you step on my toes.”

Steve felt his heart swell, too big for his ribcage now. You put your hands around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist in what was barely a dancing stance, but neither of you cared as you swung in the slow rhythm. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of you – you were so close, so real in his arms and oh so content as if there was no place you would rather be.

Peripherally he noticed that all of the people around you resolved into thin air as if he snapped his fingers; he would find it strange, but then your head was resting against his chest and he realized he didn’t care.

He tightened his embrace and leaned to your ear with sudden urge. “Come home with me,” he whispered, not having a clue where it came from, just knowing he wanted nothing else.

The words rolled off his tongue so easily and felt so right. You going home with him, whatever home it was, wherever home was. The thought of that didn’t scare him, not anymore. You were the only thing that mattered.

Your lips spread into a delighted smile and then you were kissing him, your palms framing his face. You suddenly stood in the halls of the Tower in front of your common room, originally only his, and Steve didn’t care what kind of magic it was. His fingers fell into your hair, drawing you to him, while his other hand was on your waist, never wanting to let you go. Never.

He sunk his lips into yours deeper, exploring the sweet taste of your mouth he had almost forgotten. His hand clutched your dress tightly at the moan you released from your lips and Steve pushed a little, fumbling with the handle so you could get out of your snoopy teammates’ sights. You smiled against his mouth, letting him, and walking backwards as he pushed further blindly until your calf finally hit the bed.

You fell down with a giggle and that was when Steve realized he had no longer control over his body. His eyes snapped open, but it was as if they were and weren’t his own at the same time. His gaze met with sterile white examination room, a cold single bed you now lied on, your smile inviting as ever. His fingers reached for the leather straps on the side of the bed and you offered your wrist deliberately as he clasped it tightly, your other hand following.

Steve fought his own body to stop cuffing you, to stop— whatever he was doing, but it was as if his hands didn’t belong to him. He was just there to watch his body acting without his command. The picture of you flickered in front of his eyes and suddenly your red dress was gone, replaced by sickeningly green hospital gown. His fingers continued their work, tying up your ankles to the bed next.

Steve wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, to curl his hands into fists, just to get a fucking grip on himself, but it was all in vain. When he fastened the straps, he leaned in, closer to your face, kissing your forehead. You smiled with just a trace of worry, your eyes wide with fear but trusting.

“What are we doing today?” you asked warmly and Steve sensed that the phantom of his body raised one corner of its lips.

“Don’t think we got enough samples yesterday,” he heard himself saying and a second later, he buried a thick needle into your sternum, your scream echoing in his ears.

The inner Steve gasped, crying out your name breathlessly as you threw your head back with your jaw clenched and your eyes squeezed shut. Tears rolled down your cheeks, but he pushed the needle a bit deeper, watching it fill with bone marrow.

And then his hands were on your elbow, taking your blood, adding a fresh vial to several others – eleven, there were eleven vials already and now he added the twelfth one –, and your skin played with colours in the area where the samples were taken from, needle marks blossoming into wide bruises, old ones and fresh ones. Where the skin was free of bruises, it was scarily pale, looking paper thin, and Steve couldn’t fucking breathe, his heart stopping at the sight.

He needed to snap from this, this must have been a dream, a horrible nightmare, how was this-

His fingers brushed sweat-soaked hair from your face, white as sheet of paper apart from the dark circles under your eyes. Your eyelids fluttered open and you met his gaze. You seemed exhausted, but there was an endless trust in your eyes, almost reverential, a sad smile on your purple lips.

“Love you,” you whispered soundlessly and Steve honestly just wanted to scream. Scream until his throat would be raw and hurting, because he was doing this to you somehow.

“Love you too. You’re so strong, Snowflake,” he praised and Steve felt a wave of nausea attacking his stomach, tears in his eyes at the burning sensation of the bile rising to his mouth. This was so wrong, so twisted, the creature wearing his face and calling you that while- “You can take more, can’t you? I know you can, I believe in you.”

Stop this!

This must have been a dream, Steve needed to snap from this, he couldn’t stand it anymore, seeing you like this-- he released a relieved breath as he – not quite him – uncuffed you, mentally thanking god for having mercy upon you – and him.

But it didn’t stop there. The image changed again and suddenly you were strapped to an enormous chair, wires and tubes leading from several machines to your body, tiny lights flickering, periodical beeping of a heart monitor echoing in the room. He watched you from the corner of his eye, mainly focusing on what looked like a bomb exploding in a slowed motion. A strange blue energy surrounded it and he realized with shock that it was you – you were slowing down the detonation with your powers.

“That’s good, Snowflake. I’m so proud of you for controlling it like this,” he heard himself again and he wanted to throw up.

These were his own words. The authentic himself. I believe in you. Love you, Snowflake. I’m so proud of you, you controlled yourself perfectly.

God, Steve just wished to pass out at this point. But here he was, staring dully and unable to do a thing.

“Thank you.”

Something cringed inside him at the tone of your voice, sounding as if you were on your deathbed and yet, your tone was dripping with gratitude and relief.

“But I’m so tired, Steve.”

Steve felt his jaw tremble, yet he knew for a fact that the phantom, the vessel of his body, was unfazed by the statement. It charmed a smile on its lips. “I know, Snowflake. Try harder, hold it. You can do this.”

He saw you nod and his head snapped to you fully as he noticed a trickle of blood dripping down your chin. He tilted his head curiously.

‘No! Stop!’ he wanted to cry out, but no sound came out.

You squinted at the bomb, keeping your focus. Then your eyelids closed, fresh pour of blood coming out of your mouth. Steve sprung forward to do anything – except he didn’t. He didn’t move besides taking two measured steps closer to the chair, his lips whispering to your ear.

“Keep. Working. Or they’ll replace you with me. You wouldn’t want that, would you? For them to hurt me?” he demanded sweetly and Steve felt his insides being torn apart.

What kind of a sick blackmail was that?

The real one, he realized.

This must have been a nightmare, but it was nothing but the truth. You were out there. Most likely tortured. Serving as someone’s personal lab rat. Fighting for your life. And yet, the motivation you had was the fight for his life, because it was never supposed to be you in the chair. It was supposed to be him – or you believed so.

All of that happened to you, because you were trying to protect him. And while he didn’t lead the needles into your body himself, he might as well could; because there he was, unable to do anything, only watching.

Just like when you had talked to Michaels alone, just like when you had disappeared and he should have known you would when you had acted so strangely that fatal night.

Your eyes snapped open at his words with a whimper, a new spark of determination in them.

Steve’s stomach rolled over as he saw the pool of blue energy around your weak hands, fighting to ball into fists. With horror, he realized that the beeping of the heart monitor was unnaturally fast and when he looked at it, the machine was screaming with red exclamation marks.

You coughed and he felt hot liquid hit his cheek. He let out a disgusted sound, once again against his will.

He stood up straight as he reached for a tissue, wiping the substance of his face. The crimson of your blood was in stark contrast to the white of the tissue and when he glanced at you, your eyes were rolled up to the ceiling.

“Bring her back,” he growled, several people in scrubs showing up as if from the thin air. He spun on his heels, heading to the door. “We’re not done with her yet.”

Steve yelled at himself to stop in his track, to fucking stay and fight for her life, but his legs just kept walking.

The doctors and nurse were murmuring something he didn’t understand, the clinking of the tools in their hands unnaturally loud. The room was quiet otherwise; the heart monitor fell silent.

He didn’t even look back and the door clicked shut behind him.

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Part 9

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart, @murdermornings, @elisaa-shelby @ask-hellbent-tweek @cxptain, @kallafrench, @smilexcaptainx @scentedsongrebel, @orions-nebula

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I’m such a horrible person for enjoying writing this chapter. I know that, okay? :D But I actually enjoyed that little peak in the Avengers’ heads in the AoU movie in the first place, so it was even more fun to toy with Steve’s a little.

One more chapter and then we go back to the ‘reader’ POV ;)

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers #captain america #avengers #avenger reader #heart too cold but friends of gold #anika ann

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ohshcscenerios · 5 years

Note

hi!!!! i think my request didn't go through:( i sent it a long time ago and didn't wanna ask cause i Fu igured u were busy!! but u said ur askbox was empty so i m sending it again if it's alright!!! i would like to request a one shot where kyoya breaks up with his gf and the awkward and sad middle (cause she's friends with the hosts) and how they get back together!!! thank u ♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️

Oh my goodness I’m so sorry your ask was lost! I’m so glad you asked again! I hope I can make it up to you! I hope you don’t mind but I made the girlfriend Haruhi because I favor writing in third person and having two solid perspectives really helps me write the story freely. I have no idea if this is going to be good because I tried to write this as fast as I could for you! I hope you enjoy this one-shot!

Kyoya absent-mindedly checked the Ootori stock market on his laptop as hosting hours came to a close for the day. Their guests were beginning to pack up their belongings and head towards the door in pairs. Within minutes the last pair of guests left; officially closing the club for the evening.

“Finally.” He sighed, relieved to be rid of the noisy bubble-headed heiresses. He cared for his friends and he cared for their club but he couldn’t care for their guests on the same level. Sometimes Kyoya envied Tamaki for his unique personality that allowed him to love and appreciate everyone at the same standard. It certainly made entertaining the ladies much easier. However Kyoya couldn’t see past their trained smiles and greedy eyes. His guests in particular craved an intellectual, a man who could balance their emotions as well as a checkbook, but his guests weren’t any better than the rest. They still gawked at him with high expectations. They still waited for his smooth words and innocent smirk to swoon them. They didn’t care to know the real Kyoya, only the façade he offered. They didn’t want to know the real Kyoya. There was nothing for them to gain by knowing the real Kyoya.

But she knew the real Kyoya. She fought tooth and nail to peak at the man hiding behind the mask. She had known him… and accepted him… once.

He didn’t want to think about that right now. He never wanted to think about that – her. He ended their dangerous connection, corked the bottle, and stored it away where she would only live in his memories. That’s where she belonged… if only he could fully convince himself that was true.

“Hey Kyoya, we’re going to leave a little early today. My dad wants to go over graduation details and the twins want to pitch their ideas.” Tamaki casually said as he collected his jacket and school satchel. The twins were waiting at the doors, a few steps ahead.

Kyoya only nodded and stood up to collect his things. He really should be leaving as well. He had to meet with his father tonight to further discuss his arrangement.

Tamaki and the twins silently left, leaving Kyoya seemingly alone in the music room. Mori and Hunny didn’t attend club today due to having late university classes so he should be the only one left.

“Kyoya.” Her voice…

“What are you saying Kyoya.” Haruhi asked; her thin patience evident in her gravel voice. When she agreed to meet Kyoya at his hosting couch after club hours she didn’t expect to have the conversation they were now having. Her only clue to his true intentions was the emotional distance today. He rarely looked her way, rarely spoke to her, and when he dismissed their guests he made sure to turn his back to her.

Now it all became clear. At first she thought he was stressed out because of school work or his father but she had been horribly wrong.

“I apologize Haruhi but this our best choice. We should break up now while our relationship is still young. If we continue it will only hurt worse in the end.” Kyoya gently explained behind his cool composure.

“Exactly, our relationship is still young. How can you end our relationship now? You’ve only gotten your feet wet.” Haruhi felt a pressure growing in her nose as the swell of tears threatened to spill over. She wasn’t necessarily angry with his choice but rather his timing. They had a solid friendship between them but their romantic feelings were still in their infancy. They hadn’t explored their feelings for each other yet. She had so many thoughts and desires she’d eventually need to unpack and she had hoped to do it with Kyoya. Unfortunately it didn’t look like that would happen now. Kyoya was willing to walk away before they delved into each other.

Did he truly find no merit in her? Was there not emotional merit or relational merit? Were they better off as remaining strictly friends? She would probably never know and yet those questions would haunt her for weeks to come.

Kyoya adjusted in glasses which gave off their signature glint, “I apologize for ending this courtship so early but it is for the best we end it now.”

“And why is it best? Why should we break up?” Haruhi argued, hungry for an explanation.

“There is no use for us to continue romantically. Your intelligence doesn’t outweigh your commoner status and unfortunately the Ootori family cannot overlook that. It is best we remain friends and move on.” His voice nearly cracked when he said the word friends and though it was barely a warble Haruhi caught it. Kyoya wasn’t telling her the entire truth. He was lying to her… but why?

“Kyoya, I understand you’re graduating at the end of this month.” Haruhi said wearily, as if skeptical.

Kyoya arched an eyebrow, “Yes I am, as is the rest of my class. What is your point?”

Suddenly, it clicked. There was only one reason why an Ootori son would need to be single before his high school graduation.

“Your father is ordering you to enter an arranged marriage.” The hushed words were spoken in one breath. They sounded like silk but speared Kyoya right through his pride. Without looking her in the eyes he reluctantly nodded.

“You’re going to let your father dictate your happiness?” She was beginning to grow angry now. Not only was Kyoya blindly obeying a greedy dictator but he was willing to throw her – their happiness and affections – away so he could continue to chase his inheritance.

If that was how Kyoya wanted to live his life… then…

“Fine.” Haruhi stood from the couch.

Kyoya reached to grab her wrist but she swiftly pulled it away just as his fingers grazed her.

Haruhi please, don’t do this -.”

“I’m not doing anything Kyoya. Matter of fact, you aren’t either. You’d rather roll onto your back to appease your father than fight for yourself.”

Kyoya stiffened, “That isn’t fair to say. You and I live in very different worlds. You still do not fully understand the obligations I’m expected to fulfill. You wouldn’t survive in my world.”

Haruhi turned to leave, “And yet you wanted to court me.” With her final statement ringing in his ears she took her leave; letting Kyoya drown in his damning thoughts.

“I didn’t know you were still here.” Kyoya said honestly. He watched her shuffle her feet, uncertain whether to approach him or gather her things and leave him behind. Her hesitation felt nice to him. He liked that she wasn’t sure how to think of him.

She once abhorred him, called him a coward, and couldn’t look him in the eye. It was the lowest he’d ever felt. His father’s insults, his brother’s taunts, and his classmate’s gossip couldn’t compare to her disappointment. She was the only woman to ever understand, accept, and love him… and he threw it all away for his family’s name. It was almost ironic; he fought most of his life to prove himself worthy of recognition and respect and when he finally obtained that… he turned her away. Although his fight was waged against his father he found what he starved for in her; her deep chocolate eyes, her contagious smile, and her genuine words. He had found it all within her as if all of his desires were neatly wrapped up in one person. Yet… he turned her away.

She was right to call him a coward.

He was a coward.

He was too afraid to fight for his own happiness – for them – for her – and in consequence he would spend the rest of his days sharing his bed with a stranger. He threw away his only chance of a happy marriage, a happy family, and a happy life just to fulfill the Ootori’s needs.

What about his needs?

As the third son, his needs weren’t important.

But she made them important.

She made him important.

“Haruhi, may I ask five minutes of your time? I’d like to discuss your debt balance.”

Haruhi felt a pair of arms snake around her waist from behind which nearly made her drop the tea set she was carrying on a silver tray. The kitchenette was empty, as so was the host club, and she knew exactly whose nose was snuggling into her ear.

“Kyoya, darling, you almost made me drop this expensive tea set. You can’t surprise me like that.” Haruhi sighed.

Kyoya only chuckled and kissed the shell of her ear, “Maybe I wanted you to drop it,”

“And why would you want to me to destroy this collectible set from Loitre?”

“So I can make you pay for it later.” Kyoya trailed his mischievous kisses along her neck and down to her shoulder; smiling at feeling her sudden goosebumps.

“Kyoya please do not be ridiculous. You wouldn’t risk however much these costs just to tease me.” Haruhi scolded with a hint of deviousness which Kyoya firmly noted.

Kyoya loosened his grip around her waist and grabbed her hips; pushing his thumb into her skin right above her bottom. He smiled at her gasp.

“Kyoya… you really shouldn’t-.”

“Shh… Haruhi… No one is here. There’s no need to be so uptight.” He teased.

Haruhi decided to concede and carefully set the tray on the counter. She couldn’t risk dropping the fragile set. Even though she was dating the shadow king and somehow earned his affections she wasn’t above earning another debt. In fact, her current status in his life made her more vulnerable to debt. Kyoya would use anything to keep her tangled in his web.

She spun herself around and draped her arms behind his neck. Kyoya smirked and dove in, taking advantage of her submission. He greedily tasted her luscious lips as he pushed her into the counter.

“I’d rather not today Kyoya. I told my father I would come home after school.” She responded with a tint of disgust. Her once indifferent demeanor turned cold and it hurt him. It hurt Kyoya to see her erect her own mask before him.

Before they dated she didn’t hide behind anything. Haruhi wore her heart on her sleeve and willingly spoke her mind. It wasn’t her fault that others couldn’t decode her thoughts and emotions… but Kyoya could. He could read her like a book. Page after page he savored all that made Haruhi so delectable and pure. He honored her honesty and rewarded her authenticity with his genuine self. He gave her the real Kyoya in return for her unpolluted love.

He was a fool to give her up.

He was a fool to surrender their beautiful future for his family’s name sake.

Yes, he was a fool.

“Haruhi, I beg you to listen to me.” Kyoya stood from the couch and joined her where she stood, taking her hand in his before she could pull away. “Please give me five minutes of your time.”

“You’re begging me?” Haruhi asked in disbelief. Her questioning eyes exposed her cautious spirit to which Kyoya understood and prepared himself for the rejection. He hurt her too much for forgiveness. He gave her a taste of true love and yanked it away just as quickly.

He suffered alongside her but he couldn’t confide his emotions and thoughts to her. They understood each other’s pain yet they couldn’t even look at each other.

“Alright, you have five minutes.” She said.

“Kyoya, I need to ask you when the host club is hosting their spring ball. My customers aren’t sure if the dates.” Haruhi asked as she stood behind the entertaining shadow king. His guests were polite to keep quiet while Haruhi spoke though they didn’t appreciate the stolen minutes.

Kyoya cleared his throat, “Haruhi, it’s important for each host to be updated on hosting affairs. I recommend glancing at the calendar after club hours. The spring ball is the third Saturday of March.”

Haruhi nodded, satisfied with the answer, and was about to walk away when a thought struck her odd. She turned back around and asked, “Which calendar Kyoya? I don’t remember ever seeing a calendar in the music room.”

Kyoya adjusted his glasses and spoke again, this time with a little more growl, “The calendar in the second dressing room. It’s in the very back behind the storage shelves… far from wandering eyes…” He glanced at Haruhi, willing her to understand his silent proposition.

A few awkward seconds ticked by before Haruhi realized what Kyoya was exactly saying. She smiled, quickly nodded, and returned to her table looking forward to seeing that calendar.

“I apologize for hurting you so badly.” Kyoya conceded, daring to stare into her deep chocolate eyes. He saw strong emotions flash across her irises; agitation, confusion… hope. Her eyes quickly disregarded her hint of faith and quickly displayed her anger.

“Why are you opening old wounds? Can you not let sleeping dogs lie?” She was very angry. Almost too angry. The strong emotionally display was a clear disguise for something else. There was something else clawing her throat but she continually swallowed it back. Kyoya developed suspicions but he needed to be certain. He needed to know if she really could be his again.

He needed to know before he gave his life away to another woman.

“I love you Haruhi.”

The words spilled into the room before his mind could comprehend their merit. His unspoken truth – the burden that crushed his confidence day after day, forced him to painful writhe in bed, mocked him for his cowardice – was now floating in the air between them. Whether she would accept them he couldn’t be certain.

“Yet you won’t be with me…” Her voice cracked along with her faux strength and Kyoya watched her cold demeanor crumble around her ankles. Tears threatened to spill from her glossy eyes as she fought the quiver in her lip.

Kyoya couldn’t bear it any longer. This woman – this woman – was supposed to be his and he’d be damned if he made the same mistake again.

“I will. I will be with you.” He croaked out, a little surprised that his magical spell also collapsed.

Their naked emotions exposed their trembling hearts and Kyoya couldn’t stand one more second of it. He stepped forward and grabbed her nape, pulling her to him as he leaned down. Their lips crashed together. It was electric like fireworks bursting free from their cardboard shells. Pleasurable pulses raced throughout his body as he welcomed the familiar taste of her skin.

“Kyoya.” She barely mumbled in their kiss.

He pulled away but held her head firm in place with his two hands, “I love you Haruhi Fujioka and I want to be with you.”

He kissed her again but pulled away just as she began to reciprocate.

“I don’t give a damn what my father wants for me. He doesn’t want to account for my happiness. You are my happiness.”

He placed another peck on her lips before leaning his forehead against hers and whispering, “Marry me Haruhi. Be with me. Be my wife.”

“Your father has already arranged your bride.” Haruhi said, sounding very regretful.

“My father made the arrangements but I didn’t.”

“What about your family Kyoya? What about bringing merit to the Ootori name?”

“I was a fool for having you believe you do not bring merit. Your merit far outweighs any business proposal. You are worth more than any bride my father presents me. I need you. I need you Haruhi. Marry me.”

Haruhi pulled him back and kissed him for all she was worth – for all her love was worth – and Kyoya couldn’t help but smile as he kissed her back. He faintly heard a whispered yes amidst their nips and nibbles, encouraging him to wrap his arms around her slender waist and deepen their affections.

Every boat needed an anchor. Every bird needed its wings. Every turtle needed its shell.

Kyoya needed Haruhi.

“Haruhi, can you please stay after club hours? I would like to discuss your current debt balance.” Kyoya asked without looking away from his laptop. Haruhi quipped a soft yes before returning to her clean up duties. Hikaru and Kaoru offered to stay behind and help her clean in exchange for coming to her house for an hour after school. Haruhi was dreadfully tired after the chemistry exam that day and accepted their offer, although it pained her to think about the two devils inside her apartment.

Now that Kyoya demanded her attention the twins were forced to take a rain check. Unfortunately that also meant their help was cut short. After she agreed to stay behind they grabbed their bags and left disappointed. Apparently they were only willing to help as long as their reward stood firm.

Haruhi finished packaging the last clean teacup into their cardboard boxes when she heard Kyoya’s laptop click closed. Haruhi thought that weird considering her debt was on his laptop, unless he simply wanted to tell her a number in which he only needed his memory. But why would she need to stay behind for a measly number?

“I’m finished Kyoya.” She announced as she walked over to his hosting couch.

He patted the cushion beside him and adjusted himself to sit slightly diagonally. Haruhi sat down where he indicated and looked at him with bright expectant eyes.

“Haruhi, you and I have been good friends since your first year and I’ve enjoyed our friendship immensely.” Kyoya began confidently. “You and I get along very well. I enjoy talking with you and sharing ideas with you. I also enjoy your companionship. I think you and I would make a good pair, don’t you agree?”

Haruhi blinked a few times before she croaked out a timid yes. Kyoya smiled and interpreted her silence to continue.

“I would like to court you, Haruhi. I’ve already spoke with your father and he gives his blessing. I would very much appreciate the opportunity to formally court you… if you’ll have me.”

Haruhi felt she was choking on her shock. Kyoya’s boldness stripped her of her voice, leaving her utterly speechless. She’s had romantic feelings for Kyoya for a while not but accepted the fact he would forever overlook her due to her social status. He had grown more handsome as time went on, teasing her ever growing feelings for the shadow king. At first she convinced herself to keep it as a harmless crush but time proved her weak. Her feelings grew stronger with each passing day. He slowly became more human; a man with emotions, insecurities, and faults. He slowly let his guard down around her as they developed a deeper friendship. He was soon no longer the heartless shadow king but a strong-willed Ootori trying to balance the world on his shoulders. Haruhi surprised herself when she grew to wanting to help bear his burdens.

To hear those words roll off his tongue made her want to smile. And so she did. She smiled.

Her smile said it all. She didn’t have to say anything. Kyoya knew her long enough to know when she offered a genuine smile it could only mean good news.

So he offered her a smile of his own.

She hoped this would be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

#ohshc oneshot #ohshc fanfiction #kyoya ootori #haruhi fujioka #kyoharu

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years

Text

Blindly Observant by mattzerella_sticks

Unable to do much of anything until Rowena finds them, the boys are forced to wait out the storm at the high school. Along with their new... 'friend'.

Belphegor gets bored easily, though. Will the boys be able to entertain him? Or is there more to this babysitting duty?

Belphegor frowns as wind slips between his sunglasses and the gaping holes burned into his vessel’s face. He tugs the glasses off and frowns into the side mirror, gazing into the ashy blackness marking the boy’s visage. Filling in the spaces with his imagination, Belphegor guesses as to what he would look like without the wounds. Different colors filter through all types of eyes as nothing seems to match up perfectly, to make his new body look as good as everyone else on the damn planet he’s seen so far.

The sunglasses help bridge the gap.

He puts them back on and surveys the parking lot, making sure no one saw him. Under a dark, starless sky like this, with words like ‘contamination’ and ‘quarantine’ buzzing through the air, means no worry for a regular passerby to spot what doesn’t belong. Too busy locking themselves away in 'safety'. However an outlier can easily find another outlier.

Castiel stands under a tree, staring at the high school. Belphegor strolls over to him, announcing his presence to the angel by stepping on fallen leaves. He delights in how stiff the angel looks, shoulders tensing with every crunch until Belphegor finally stops inches from him and Castiel’s neck disappeared. “Beautiful night for the end of the world, innit?”

Nothing.

Belphegor sighs, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Y’know, it’s not fair… you taking all this frustration out on me. I’ve been topside less than a day, managed to put a bandaid over your stab wound… I didn’t take a crap on your life I just wasn’t lookin’ where I was going.”

Angel gives him a look of contempt filled with so much anger Belphegor prepares for a grand smiting. When he realizes his essence won’t turn to ash he plasters on the easy grin he wore before.

“Yeah, I’ve seen this a million times already,” Belphegor shrugs, rounding Castiel. Angel’s gaze follows him, the blue tracking him like a predator stalking his prey, the glow otherworldly. “Everyone hurts you and the pain won’t let up, so you twist open the spout and pour it onto the easiest target -”

“Enough.”

“If that target weren’t me I’d actually be pretty impressed,” he says. Belphegor knows he’s dipping his fingers too close over the fence at the zoo, Castiel wound so tight he could snap his jaws at any moment. Still… “If you want to ditch the wings and halo, join me on the rack after this is all over…”

He chokes on the offer, Castiel slamming him into the tree. His fingers squeeze Belphegor’s neck as skin bubbles under the intense power. “Do notcompare yourself to me,” he growls.

“You… you need -”

“The ghosts are contained and we know the spell… we hardly need your services any longer.”

Belphegor scrabbles against Castiel’s iron grip. With each second that passes he feels his time running out. Quickly searching for an escape, Belphegor latches onto a memory and uses it like a knife. Flinging his head to the side with enough force he knocks the sunglasses off his head. Then with all he has left he meekly wheezes, “ Dad …”

The hand tears itself away and Belphegor gasps for breath. Recovering, he glances at Castiel. Belphegor attacker recoiled, power cutting off and leaving his eyes glassy and lifeless on his pale face. Stumbling on wobbly legs, he gives Belphegor a wide berth.

Huffing, Belphegor snatches his sunglasses. “That was a close one,” he grumbles, “next time tell me when I cross a line…”

“How did… Why did you call me that?”

Belphegor wishes he could roll his eyes. Instead he injects enough sass into shoving his sunglasses on as he says, “Because that’s who I’m squatting in, right? Your kid? Figured it’d shock you or something .”

“But how did you know ?”

“That he’s your son ?” Castiel flinches, drawing further interest from Belphegor. “Because Dean told me…” Casually he floats closer to the angel, like the earlier scene hadn’t happened. Studying how Castiel’s frown deepened at the mention of the elder Winchester’s name. “Dean,” he continues, “Y’know… the guy who’s doing to you what you’re tryna do to me .”

Castiel turns from him, a hand creeping up to his temple. “You don’t know what you’re talking about -”

“I know enough,” Belphegor says, circling him, “don’t think you aren’t included in the Winchester Weekly that gets around Hell… the Winchester’s personal angel who became too close to his charges… flirted with humanity more than the upstairs would’ve liked. Killed more angels than even the strongest demon…” He chuckles, wagging his finger at Castiel. “Although I’ll have to give the editor a piece of my mind when I see ‘em. How they missed yours and his kid I mean…” Belphegor mimics a bomb dropping, Castiel glowering at his impression. “Big news.”

“He wasn’t ours ,” Castiel tells him, “not in… not in that sense.”

Belphegor skews his head to the side, “Now that’s funny… from what the big guy said I could’ve sworn he meant…” Crossing his arms, he paces over towards the tree. “When you left in a huff… and he said Jack was ‘ our kid’ it’s… let’s say there’s not much room for interpretation other than, well…”

Castiel’s jaw clenches during his explanation, fists shaking at his sides. “I’m sorry to shatter the illusion but… Jack wasn’t ‘ ours ’ in the capacity you’re thinking. Yes while we shared him it was… it was a three-person job, being a father to Jack. Me, Dean and… and Sam .”

“Now that you mention it, it makes sense,” Belphegor says, “Sam’s a little shaken up having me up and about… and you - you’re acting exactly how I’d expect any grieving parent would act if they watched the kid who died right in front of ‘em get driven around by some amazing demon. Dean though… he’s been a rock .”

“Of course…” Castiel shuffles in place, awkwardly avoiding Belphegor’s gaze once more. “Dean is good at… ‘ stowing ’ his ‘ crap ’ to get the job done.”

“Is he though?”

Startled, he glances up at him. Belphegor smiles with innocent dimples, amused. “What do you mean?”

“Things could’ve been a whole lot smoother between you two today,” Belphegor says, “Looked like there wasn’t any love loss between you guys. Or… some love was loss?”

“Stop speaking about things you clearly don’t have any idea about.”

“Oh buddy, I have - like - all the ideas,” he smirks, “two men as handsome as you are… gives a demon like me so many things to think about.” Castiel advances, one foot too close for Belphegor’s liking. Especially with the light show returning. He holds his hands up, backing into the rough bark of the tree. “But I can also read people… spend a thousand years in Hell and you learn a thing or two. Over a millennia you can understand when a single action has more words than a novel. From what I can tell there’s an epic tragedy being written whenever one of you so much as glances at the other. And those never end well...”

Castiel sighs, halting in his advance. “I hate that I find myself wishing Jack’s mouth was burned out his skull instead of his eyes…”

“And I wish I didn’t waste my time alive worshiping a useless dick but we don’t always get what we want,” Belphegor says, “We all have regrets… it’s what makes my job so easy down there in Hell. Pick the right one and even the brightest soul can tumble into darkness like a Jenga tower. Although why am I telling you this… you saw Dean in his prime .”

Angel doesn’t like this, and resumes his war march towards Belphegor. He braces for the grace about to slam into him, sure that no underhanded trick would work.

Luckily salvation comes in an unlikely, tall, shadowy figure.

Sam clears his throat. Castiel’s fingers freeze inches from his face. Belphegor sags against the tree as he sees Sam’s silhouette stalking over. “Sam! Am I glad to see you!”

Ignoring him, Sam addresses the angel. “Why don’t you go inside and mingle, calm some nerves,” he says, “I need some alone time now.”

Castiel nods, hand falling limp at his sides. “Very well.” He glowers briefly at Belphegor and then switches over to a more neutral expression. Clearly returning to the status quo of ignoring his existence. Which Belphegor will allow until the act bores him again.

For now he has something even shinier to play with.

“Sam Winchester, Sammy… My liege ,” he bows with enough force the sunglasses dangle at the tip of his nose until he unbends. As he straightens his spine Belphegor sees the corners of Sam’s mouth tick downwards. “Not a fan of that last one?”

“Could you please stop antagonizing Cas,” Sam huffs, “he’s had a rough day already…”

“Haven’t we all.” Belphegor scoffs, “Listen, it’s in my nature to sniff out when someone’s wounded and toss a little salt in it.”

“Then fight against it,” Sam tells him, “Or I won’t have any problem letting Castiel give into his nature.”

“Duly noted.”

Sam dawdles, not running after lecturing Belphegor on angel handling like he expects. Belphegor pounces on the mistake, sidling up to Sam’s side.

“He seems a bit more dour, though, than either you or your brother ,” Belphegor continues, “Like there’s something about me - more than the fact that I’m a demon - that he can’t stand… guess I wanted to find out what it was. See if I could do some damage control, a little PR - especially since we’ll be working together.”

Deflecting works, Sam relaxing enough to continue their conversation. “It’s not you he’s angry with, it’s the body you’re… using .”

“I kinda got that back in the raveyard we dropped hours ago.”

Sam frowns, Belphegor watching the wheels turn in his lusciously blanketed head. Debating whether or not he should tell him what he already knows. Belphegor waits for Sam to decide, hoping he looks bored enough not to draw suspicion. It must work since Sam checks behind him to see if Castiel had truly fled. “You’re walking around in a boy named Jack and he… he was our son … Castiel’s, Dean’s and… and mine .”

Belphegor nods, crowing with faux understanding so condescending he’s surprised Sam doesn’t catch on to his act. Grief is a wonderful blinder. “That explains a lot… well, not a lot but some…”

“What -”

“You, you’re acting weird around me,” Belphegor waves flippantly, “tiptoeing or whatever… and Castiel - as we saw - is really teetering on the edge. Dean, though… you sure Jack wasn’t just yours and the angel’s?”

“Dean, he -” Sam stumbles over his words, “Dean cared about Jack.”

“Funny way of showing it,” Belphegor shrugs, “I should be glad, though. To have one of you be able to look me in the - well… can’t say that, can I?”

“Dean’s bothered!” Sam says, bottom row of teeth on full display as he snarls, “He’s not letting it show, is all. It’s this thing he does… by the time this whole mess is cleaned up, though, you won’t be around to see him… fall apart.” He quiets, drawing into himself as he thinks about what he said. Imagines the pieces of his brother showering down around them and being forced to pick up the pieces on his own. What he doesn’t know is Belphegor joined him in this mental journey.

And the sight is too sad, even for him.

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Belphegor says, “from what I’ve seen your brother has no problem showing when something’s bothering him.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “His natural state is gruff .”

“Even to his friends?” he asks, “Because I gotta say Castiel didn’t deserve the brush off your brother gave him.”

Tensing, Sam shuffles around to hide part of his face from Belphegor. When he glances at the demon, Belphegor can see the wariness hiding there. Of course the kindness wouldn’t be taken so easily from him . “Surprised you’re sticking up for Cas.”

“Hey the angel might hate my guts but even I know how to treat someone decently.”

Sam breathes a humorless laugh through his nose. “Things aren’t the greatest right now -”

“Understatement of the century… ”

“Between them . Before the end of the world they were… things were said, people got hurt and… Dean’s really mad at him,” Sam admits, “Madder than he’s ever been at him.”

Belphegor nods. “No foolin’?”

Sam pauses, shaking his head. As if he remembered where he was and who he spoke to. His lips seal tight, and he drags a hand across them to make sure it won’t open. Belphegor sighs, not happy with the development.

He’ll have to work for his fun now, which - ugh .

“It does suck though,” Belphegor says, “going through the end of the world, the death of a child, and a divorce at the same time… speaks more to the two of them that they can save a town with all this trauma piling up in their wake.”

The younger Winchester’s eyebrows jump from his head. “Divorce?” he squawks. Belphegor hides his smile, the word bringing about the expected response. “It’s a… it’s a rough patch, sure, but -”

“Hey I might not look like your kid but you don’t have to go easy on me,” Belphegor says, “I’m a big boy . Wouldn’t mind if Dean split from that angel… means he’ll need a nice shoulder to cry on now that Castiel isn’t perched on his anymore.”

Sam splutters. “Dean… you want… Dean ?”

“Of course,” he scoffs, “you might’ve been the meat suit Lucifer wanted but any demon in their right mind knew Dean was the Winchester brother you wanted to… stick it in .” The disgust painting every crease in Sam’s face brings him joy. “Ruthless, cunning, could cut a body down so easily… actually, I saw a spark of the old Dean today, really…”

“You’re seeing things… so many things… wrong things,” Sam tells him, “Dean would never go for you -”

“I can find another guy.”

“You’d still be a demon .”

“So you’re the only one into demons?” Sam mimics Castiel’s fierce glare, except Belphegor knows there won’t be any lightshow. Still he doesn’t care for how his fingers twitch to where he holstered his firearm. Belphegor continues, shrugging. “Sad, but I'm glad to know that’s the only thing keeping us apart. I’m pretty partial to men’s bodies… last time I took over a girl she was on the rag and that was not pleasant . I thought I knew torture…”

“Dean,” Sam coughs, “Dean isn’t into guys either.”

“ No! ” Belphegor gasps, “Not into demons, not into angels, not into men…”

“I never said he wasn’t into angels.”

“So he and Cas did have a thing?”

“Dean and Cas were never a thing!” Sam says, barely any heat in his defense. Belphegor spots how the argument strains to hold any water, leaks abounding with the pressure he applies against it. A few more strikes and the doubt will douse any steadfast assurance Sam has that he knows his brother.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Belphegor says, lounging against the tree with his arms above his head. “Those two don’t look at each other like friend’s do. When Castiel left with you on your little adventure, Dean watched him go with this sad look in his eye… tried to make him feel better by helping him cruise, get on the rebound. All he seemed interested in was window shopping… And Castiel? I’ve never seen a heart shatter in someone’s eyes, it was fascinating. But you said they were never a thing so maybe I’m reading too much into their problems… Maybe it all stems from the fact that they never banged when they should’ve! Although it might be too late, now…”

“Whatever you’re trying to do,” Sam growls, squinting at him, “it’s not going to work.”

“Oh?”

“Dean and Cas will get through this,” he continues, “no matter how many times we have to go through this, we pick ourselves up and keep going. They’re stubborn, but when our backs are against the wall they figure how to get their heads out of their asses and make up. Those two… they have something special that nothing can break apart. Not even each other.”

Belphegor hums. “So you think there’s still a chance for them to bone?”

Sam punches the tree close enough to Belphegor’s head the wind whacks him in the face. “Y’know,” he says, tone pointed and lethal like a sharp blade, “I meant it when I said I wanted to be alone right now.”

Nodding, Belphegor dips away from the tree and strategically retreats towards the high school, not bothering to check behind him. The younger Winchester doesn’t matter anymore since he shook all he needed from his branches.

Castiel… check . Sam… check . Dean…

It’s not hard finding the elder Winchester.

Angel sits, surrounded by a group of children as he reads from some janky children’s book that needs serious repair. The kids don’t mind, listening with rapt interest as Castiel lulls them into comfort with his soothing voice. It brings peace to even the most ferocious of creatures, hiding, watching storytime from a safe distance.

Belphegor sneaks upon Dean easily, leaning close to his ear and whispers. “He puts on a good show right?”

Dean whirls, pressing him against the gym wall without a sound. Unlike all the other times Belphegor’s lips curl into a grin as he soaks up the closeness. “If you wanted to get frisky I’m sure there’s a janitor’s closet around here somewhere…”

Disgust flits across Dean’s features only for his face to shut down into smooth marble. He drops his hand, tucking both of them under his arms. “What’re you doing here?”

“Things got a little too boring outside,” Belphegor shrugs, “Figured I’d spend some time with my favorite Winchester.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t got no time for fanboys.”

“Oh?” Belphegor says, “Spying on angels takes up that much of your day?” Pushing onto his toes, he looks beyond Dean so he can see Castiel again. “I can understand though. It’s real cute… all’s’it’s missing are some fluffy clouds and - ggk !”

He drags Belphegor from the gym and over to the nearby exit, throwing him into the empty hallway with enough force he trips over his feet. If not for his quick reflexes he would’ve sprawled across the floor at Dean’s mercy. And it’s too early in their game for that.

“What do you want?”

Belphegor brushes himself off, the cocky tilt of his brow undamaged by the toss. “I want many things, Dean… the better question is are you willing to give them to a poor ol’ demon like myself?”

“I’m willing to do a lot to you,” Dean says, “Like sending you back to where you came of you freaky son of a -”

“Now is that any way to speak to your kid?” Belphegor jokes, regretting it as a shadow darkens the other man’s face. “Hey,” he says, hands blocking him from getting any closer, “c’mon, I was kidding… kidding !”

Dean sags, tension smoking away from his body. “Making me regret ever telling you that piece of info…”

“Information is power,” he shrugs, “works better than any blade, hook, or claw… you know that, though. From working down there .” The elder Winchester squirms at the reminder, Belphegor’s essence crackling at the display of weakness . “Learning secrets about the souls we’d put on the rack and using them the next day - incorporating them into our torture to squeeze out the most terror from their pathetic, whiny -”

“Why’re you still here?” Dean asks. “You could’ve smoked away after we set up the salt circle… why stay?”

“Because I like to see things through?” The cellophane answer tears easily in Dean’s grip, forcing Belphegor to show more of his hand than he likes. “Honestly? It’s not everyday a demon spends more than a few minutes in the company of a Winchester without being sent to the only place worse than Hell. Wanted to see how long I could ride this out… learn more about you guys that the newspapers get wrong.”

“Figures,” Dean mutters, “no matter where we go we’re nothing but characters in some twisted story…”

“Hey, hey, hey… that’s not a bad thing.”

“Really? Cause all it’s brought me was a lifetime of misery, pain, and death ,” he growls, “don’t see how there’s a bright side to that.”

Belphegor steps away, thinking. “True… those are some hard things to spin positively.”

Dean snorts.

“But it’s not like you were alone in all of it, right?” he continues, “You had your brother… a son - briefly … friends… an angel -” Seizing, Dean turns to face the gym door. His knotted back on full show for Belphegor. “Sore spot, huh?” Belphegor winces, “Yeah… probably is. What’s with how y’all’re acting earlier…”

“Could you can it with the routine?” Dean asks, voice heavy like his shoulders with the exhaustion he can no longer ignore. “Don’t know why you’re even trying this with me. Figured you’d head down to all your little buddies and tell them how you twisted my nipples or whatever? Take your sympathy and can it .”

Belphegor freezes, tail caught dangling from his mouth. Luckily Dean keeps his face focused on the door, allowing Belphegor the time to slurp the tail up with the elder Winchester none the wiser.

“I should have known better,” he starts, slowly circling Dean, “of course you’d see me a mile away… can’t fool a master.”

“ Zip it. ”

“I guess I can’t go back and brag about being the nail in the coffin of yours and the angel’s bond,” he chuckles wryly, “it’s too strong to break apart… even if you two are fighting.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dean tells him, “I don’t think there’s enough glue to put back the billions of pieces of shrapnel that we exploded into.”

“You will,” Belphegor encourages, “I mean, you two are Dean and Castiel . Everyone knows about you two. The triumphs, the fallouts… the ‘I raised you from perdition’ and the ‘I need you’... we don’t have much for entertainment in Hell, so we get it where we can. You two’re like Romeo and Juliet… Achilles and Patroclus… Harry and Sally…” Belphegor pokes Dean’s ribs, “C’mon, I know you can fake an orgasm with the best of them. These halls echo .”

Dean barely responded, which Belphegor took as a sign he followed the perfect path. His gaze fogged up, as if he saw beyond the door and into both the past and future. Connecting strings Belphegor helpfully supplied.

“We might not be your biggest fans but we root for you from time to time,” he says, walking away, “how can we not . You’re both so compelling …”

Belphegor rounds the corner, leaving Dean to wallow in the mess he created.

He dawdles in the hallway, flicking locker handles to see which ones are open. Swapping books when they are, stealing hidden money and drawing obscene hieroglyphs on whiteboards or mutilating personal collages. Belphegor breathes deeply after adding a girthy cock to a football player’s victory photo, relishing in the paranoia and depression clouding the air. Sifts through the layers of nobodies until he finds the pearls he created with the right amounts of pressure.

Castiel, Sam, and Dean Winchester cut Hell at the knees. Toppled his proud kingdom and turned it into a ruinous cavern. Without a king, the screams of pain felt more hollow than they ever were.

So Belphegor will do the same. When he’s done with them, ripped the pearls of their souls out, they’ll be nothing but shells of their former selves, too.

“While I’ll be sitting on the throne,” Belphegor says, using a red Expo marker to draw x’s over the football player’s teammates’ eyes. “Wearing the crown... “

The night lasts long, Belphegor cherishing each miserable second.

#Supernatural #Spn #Spn15 #15x01 #Back and to the Future #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural fanfiction #Spn fanfic #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Sam Winchester #Belphegor #Destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic

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oliverwxod · 6 years

Text

Her (Tom Holland)

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, angst

Summary: Weddings had a reputation of bringing people together in unexpected ways. It had been 2 years since Tom last saw her and he was dreading/dreaming of seeing her again.

A/N: happy new year people, hope you have a happy and healthy 2019!! My master list is in my bio on my page, would appreciate if you gave it a little read xx

Tom had been mentally preparing himself for one of his co-workers weddings for the past few months. Ever since he found out she was going. It was silly of him to assume she wasn’t up until then. Why wouldn’t she be? They had all worked on the same film with each other, of course she would be invited.

But nothing would ever fully prepare him to see her again. The girl who walked out of his life like it mean’t nothing. Like he mean’t nothing.

It had been 2 years since he last saw her. 2 years since he last heard her name, 2 years since he saw her smile, 2 years since he saw her laugh and cry at the same time.

2 years was a long time to not hear a word from her. No explanation, nothing, just silence. She had blocked his number, his social media accounts and she even moved apartments, none of her friends or their mutual friends telling him where.

Tom never understood what went wrong. Every time he asked anyone he knew was still in contact with her, they just smiled sympathetically at him, shrugging and telling him they knew nothing, or that they couldn’t say.

It hurt. It hurt like hell and he felt like he hadn’t smiled properly in those years, a piece of himself and a piece of his heart missing. She held it in her hands, she always had and she always would.

He wanted to hate her. But he couldn’t. She was still his everything after all that time. She was still the one he wanted to wake up next to, the one he wanted to have by his side holding his hand through the good times and the bad.

“you ready?” Harrison asked, clapping a hand on Tom’s suit covered shoulder. Tom nodded, giving his friend a nervous smile as he readjusted his tie.

“as ready as I’ll ever be” he nodded, shrugging slightly.

“you’ll be fine” he reassured him, giving Tom an encouraging smile. “I’ll be right by your side if it gets too much”

“thanks” Tom smiled in appreciation at his friend.

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

The reception went slowly, Tom spent the whole time adverting his eyes away from anyone. He didn’t look around him at the surrounding, focusing solely on his co-worker and friend who was saying his vows to his wife to be. It made him smile.

The picture perfect image of love really did come true for some people. He couldn’t find it in him to be bitter about it. Just because love didn’t work how he wanted it to, didn’t mean that everyone was that unlucky.

He didn’t see her there once.

In fact, he managed to avoid seeing or bumping into her throughout the whole reception. She must have been sitting in the back.

Tom greeted a couple of friends from the set, smiling and hugging them, chatting about fond memories. He could feel himself relax in the atmosphere, letting his worries free for the hour.

That was until the atmosphere shifted. It was as if he could feel her presence in the room. The overwhelming intensity of her being had always affected him. He could feel her eyes on him, searching the room blindly until his own landed on her.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight. The soft and kindest smile graced her features as she timidly met his eyes. Tom was unsure whether to go to her, he had spent all his time thinking of the words he would say to her.

Part of him wanted to shout at her, demand an explanation, but he knew that would push her further away and scare her off. The other part of him wanted to be passive aggressive and ignore her presence, but he didn’t know if that would hurt himself self more than it would her.

So he made his way towards her, fiddling with his tie again to readjust it, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat down.

Her eyes widened in panic... fear... as she turned away from him, walking to the edge of the room and pushing open the front doors to the venues car park.

He sped up his pace, he wasn’t loosing her this time.

“Y/n” He called as he made it out of the door. He needn't have worried. She was waiting there for him, sitting on the outdoor bench.

He frowned, standing frozen looking at her.

“Tom” she spoke gently, looking down at her hands in her laps, ready for him to shout or get angry at her. She knew she deserved it and that it would hurt because Tom never ever raised his voice to anyone.

But to her surprise he didn’t look angry. It was worse.

He looked sad. Defeated and broken. She had broken him.

“why?” he asked, still not moving from his spot away from her.

“I owe you an explanation Tom” she spoke.

“And you couldn’t have given me that 2 years ago!” he spoke, voice breaking slightly. Y/n recognised it, it was the sound where he was trying to keep himself together, to keep his tears back.

“I’m sorry” she spoke quietly, her own voice breaking now as she let the tears she had been holding back all day go.

“2 years Y/n! 2 years of nothing and what do you expect me to do?” he asked running is hands through his hair in frustration.

“I don’t want you to forgive me” she cried “I just need you to know how sorry I am and to explain, I owe you that.”

Tom was silent, staring at the floor in contemplation.

“how can I ever forgive you?” he spoke, but it was more of a question to himself, no undetected hints of anger of malice. He shook his head, a quiet chuckled escaping. “How am I supposed to forgive you when you left me like you did. I thought I finally had you, that we could finally be together. That’s what you said, you told me those exact words as soon as we slept together and I told you that I loved you.”

“I don’t expect you too forgive me Tom, I fucked up and I know I’m a terrible person. I couldn’t face you and I know and you know that you deserve more, you deserve so much better than me Tom, I had to leave you.” she cried, wiping her eyes in frustration. She didn’t want to come across as pathetic.

Tom shook his head in disbelief. “so that’s what it was all about? You being insecure?” he spoke through gritted teeth. “all of this for that.” he frowned. “Y/n you know I would never think bad of you, I would never make you feel insecure because you were perfect for me and I hate that you couldn’t see that and felt that you had to leave”

“you deserve the world Tom and that’s not me”

Tom let out of breath of air at her words, tears falling freely from his own eyes now. He made his way over to her sitting down next to her in silence. He hadn’t been this close to her in a while.

“I forgive you” he spoke quietly.

“You don’t need to say that to make me feel better Tom” she said.

“I’m not. I forgave you weeks after you left” he admitted, causing her head to whip to the side to face him. She let out a watery chuckle.

“you’re too good for this world” she spoke, smiling gently at him.

“why do you always say that?” He spoke, laughing gently as a few final tears rolled down his face.

“because it’s true tom. You are” she spoke in admiration.

“you know- I’ve spent the last 2 years thinking non-stop about you.” he said timidly. “I’ve thought about what I would say to you if I ever got the chance to see you again”

“did you say what you wanted to?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“No. Because In my thoughts I never spoke to you” he said. She watched him speak, curious as to what he had thought about the past years.

“In my thoughts It always played out like a scene from a movie.” he said laughing at himself while shaking his head.

“Yeah?” she asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “and how did that movie scene go?”

“well there were several.” he spoke, a hint of the playful Tom she once knew lacing his voice. “the first one we would have fought real bad, as in shouting and screaming at each other and then gaining the attention of all the guests.”

“that would have been funny” she laughed.

“one of them we would have just completely ignored each other and pretended the other didn’t exists, using other people to make each other jealous.” he spoke, eyeing her from the side to see her reaction.

She pouted “I'm glad that didn’t happen”

“Me too” Tom said, smiling at her. He saw her hands still in her lap, one of them turned palm upwards. So he did what he never used to hesitate doing. He laced his fingers with hers, relaxing as she let him.

“A ridiculous one was me turning up to the wedding in my Spiderman super suit, swooping in and taking you with me and saving the day from well... from nothing I guess.” he chuckled. Y/n laughed loudly, causing him to join in.

“that would have been entertaining” she said through her laughs.

“yeah. Maybe a little embarrassing though.” he spoke.

“what was your favourite one?” she asked the mood turning more serious now.

“My favourite one?” he asked a little taken aback. She nodded prompting him. “my favourite one was the one where everything turned out perfectly. We would speak, I'd find out the real reason you left me, I’d tell you I forgive you and still love you and then I'd kiss you” he said shyly, his cheeks reddening slightly.

“go on then.” she spoke, giving him a teary smile “make it happen”

Tom looked a little surprised but shook it off, he wasted no time in leaning in towards her, both hands cupping her cheeks in admiration. She leaned into him, foreheads pressing against each other in an intimate fashion. And after 2 very long years he finally captured her lips in a kiss he had only dreamed of.

“I love you” he spoke once he pulled away, wiping away her tears with his thumb.

“I never stopped loving you” she spoke back.

Forever tags:

@dreambigbeawesome @hellosafie @linheliano @extreme-supernatural-lover @thisismysecrethappyplace @mannls @1elboomdemsechevarria @what-the-hell-is–a-hufflepuff @myrabbitholetoneverland @jbarnes87 @permanent-lines @alyssaj23 @piensa-bonito @maresmiley @soldierplum @jjsoccer11 @les-bio-lie @dewy-biitch @despelllestrange @kingdomcage @unlikelygalaxygiver @hiddles-rose @httpmcrvel @breezy1415 @artisticlales @imthegirlyourparentswarnedyouof @maladaptive-ninja-returns @xinyourdreamsx

#tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland au #tom holland fanfic #tom holland smut #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker au #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland oneshot

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inawickedlittletown · 6 years

Text

Walking The Wire (109/?)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

@findmeinthestarss

Masterpost

Chapter One Hundred Eight

2018

Ben & Jerry’s came out with a whole bunch of new flavors that were Avengers inspired. Peter found out when Ned texted him and MJ about it in a group text. Later, when he got home from school, he found out that not only were there new flavors, but that Ben & Jerry had gone ahead and sent them at the tower a few pints of each of the new flavors.

“This is amazing,” Peter said when he peered into the freezer. “Did you know this was happening?”

“Despite your metabolism, I don’t expect that eating all of it at once would be wise,” his dad said. “And no, I didn’t.”

“How long do you think they’ve been working on this?” Sam asked. He was leaning against one of the counters and already digging into a pint box of the A Hunka-Hulka-Burning Fudge. “Don’t they take years creating flavors?”

“Not sure. Don’t care,” Tony said and reached into the freezer to pull out Cap-ilicious Triple Berry. “All I know is that apparently I’m not off dairy and that this is delicious.”

“I would have thought they’d do a more patriotic look to Cap’s ice cream,” Sam said.

Peter reached blindly for one of the containers so he wouldn’t have to make a choice and he saw his dad shrug as he took a bite of the Cap inspired ice cream. Peter had wound up with Stark Raving Hazelnuts which really was not all bad. It was certainly a nice thing to come home to. He took another bite and then took a picture of the ice cream to send to Ned.

“You know, I’m really glad we got a wedding planner,” Tony said as he looked through a few cake design options.

Steve who was in the middle of painting something laughed. “You mean, you’re glad Pepper got us a wedding planner even though this whole thing was supposed to be a small thing because Peter despite his excitement is still just a teenage boy that knows next to nothing about weddings.”

Tony shrugged. “Sure, what you said. But I’m still glad. Anyway, people like parties. And at this rate we just really have to make a few choices and then just show up. We can even leave early if you really want. What are you painting anyway?”

“The view,” Steve said and sure enough he was. Everything outside the window had been transferred to the canvas. It wasn’t exact -- more of an abstract, but that didn’t make it any less beautiful. Tony had never really understood art or even bothered to like it -- but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate everything that Steve created.

His art room had filled up with more and more art since Steve had finally focused on his hobby. He wasn’t obsessive, but he spent hours painting away or sketching. It kept him entertained and Tony was happy about it. He liked that Steve had something to do that was all his own. Tony also loved watching him do it -- the concentration that he put into his art was unlike anything else. In another lifetime, it was possible that Steve would have just become some artist that everyone admired.

Tony got up. “I’ll leave you to it. I have a bit of work to finish up in the lab.”

Steve nodded. Tony pressed a kiss to his temple and walked out of the room. He found Sam and Wanda watching some odd cartoon and then spotted Vision in the kitchen.

“Hey, Viz.”

Vision and Wanda spent a lot of time on their own on their floor but it wasn’t odd to find them up in the penthouse some days. What Tony found weird about it was that Vision seemed to be more and more human-like these days. He had started dressing like a regular person a long time ago but now he seemed to not mind changing his appearance to look human. It was a little strange.

“A letter arrived for you,” Vision said.

“That’s odd,” Tony said. “We usually don’t get any mail sent up here.”

“It is possible someone brought it up and left it in the kitchen for you to find,” Vision said.

“Right,” Tony said but it all still sounded a bit odd.

Vision didn’t respond and he picked up the bowl of popcorn and went to join Wanda and Sam in the living room. The letter was in a manila envelope and Tony figured he’d take it with him, but his mind was already turning to the new designs he’d been working on. Natasha was already out of her house arrest unlike the rest of them and she’d been cleared to rejoin The Avengers officially. It also meant that she was free to do whatever Fury wanted from her and Tony wanted to give her the best gear to do that with.

The heater in the Spider-Man suit was one of the best things ever. It meant that Peter could actually patrol without feeling the brisk cold air. It had snowed a few days earlier and there was gray and dark dirty snow on the edges of most streets. Peter also found that most rooftops were covered and useless to him. But he was still out and about for a few hours.

But it turned out that when it was cold out that there wasn’t a lot of crime to go after. Not a lot of people were out unless they needed to be. Peter did save a woman from slipping on ice.

“Anything going on, Karen? I’m kind of getting bored.”

“Not that I can tell,” Karen said.

“I should have just gone and trained with Steve. I guess it’s a good thing, right, that nothing is happening.”

“I believe so, Peter.”

He swung off of a fire escape and headed towards the tower. Maybe he’d just go and actually work on his homework. There was an essay due in a few days that he should get on top of. His junior year of high school had brought along a ton more work and college was a thing that everyone was starting to get worried about. Tony liked to mention MIT in passing all the time and then May brought it up in her own way too, always hinting at how Peter would need to give up Spider-Man for it and Peter just -- he didn’t want to think about that.

He got back to the tower to find Natasha was back from a mission and sitting in the living room with Sam, Steve, Wanda, and Vision.

“Hey, Peter,” Natasha said. She had a split lip and yet she still smiled at him.

“We left you food in the kitchen,” Steve said. “We also left food for Tony if you want to bring some to him.”

“Cool. Thanks. I will.”

Food turned out to be sub sandwiches so after getting back into his normal clothes, Peter just grabbed both and went to the workshop. He was expecting to find Tony working, but instead his dad was looking at paperwork.

“Hungry?” Peter asked.

His dad turned to look at him. “Oh, you’re home. I -- I must have lost track of time.”

“What are you working on?” Peter asked.

“Nothing. Nothing. Just something that got in the mail today got me a bit distracted.” He waved his hand and the display disappeared. “Anyway, food. How was school today? Patrol?”

“Same. Not much going on.”

Tony nodded. He was oddly distracted. It made Peter worry a little. His dad only tended to get weird when something was happening.

“Did I ever tell you that I can’t actually have kids,” Tony said after they’d sat in silence eating for a while.

“No,” Peter said, not sure where the conversation was going. “I mean, maybe. I kind of think I knew that already.”

Tony nodded. “I -- it was to do with the arc reactor. Anyway, there was a time when I didn’t think that I would ever meet you or that it would make a difference because you were growing so fast and I never needed my parents when I was your age -- well, I probably did but I didn’t really have them. I guess that’s what makes more sense.”

“What are you getting at?” Peter asked. He was so confused.

Tony sighed and he wiped his mouth with a napkin and then he got up and grabbed a few sheets of paper. “A while back I applied to adopt. Sort of on a whim. Sort of because I really wanted to be a dad since at the time I couldn’t really be yours. I thought I’d never get to meet you. It takes time to adopt and I had forgotten about it just because of everything that happened. Actually -- I don’t remember if I told Steve about it. Thing is, nothing came of it and then I met you.”

Peter remembered a conversation about his dad possibly wanting other kids and how much Peter just -- he didn’t know how to feel about it. He hadn’t really let himself think about any of it especially since Tony had said he wasn’t sure if anything might happen.

“But why are you -- what’s that paper?” Peter motioned to the papers that Tony was holding.

“They want to know if I’m still interested,” Tony said.

“Oh,” Peter said.

Tony let out a breath. “I don’t think this is the right time,” Tony said. “Not for any of us.”

“Oh,” Peter said again and it was as if he didn’t know how to say anything else. He just -- he didn’t know if his dad wanted his opinion or if he was just telling Peter about it to tell him. Peter was also quite sure that he didn’t know how to feel.

It was getting closer to the end of the school year when a school trip was announced and Peter was dismayed to hear that it was a tour of SI. MJ cackled and laughed for a solid minute once she found out and just wouldn’t let it go all throughout lunch and then later when they were walking out of Midtown. Ned on the other hand seemed as excited as everyone else. The trip wasn’t for another few weeks, but Peter was already dreading it. He just knew that it wasn’t going to go well. He had kept the fact that he was living at the tower a secret from everyone including Ned and Michelle for over a year and this was going to be thing that finally revealed that to them -- he could just feel it.

“Aha, so we finally get to find out that Penis Parker has been lying about that internship all this time,” Flash said when he walked past them.

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Or prove Flash wrong,” Ned said. “This is actually really awesome. Do you think any of the Avengers will show up?”

Peter shook his head. “It’s not a trip to the living floors. Just the labs and SI. They don’t usually go down there.”

“But wouldn’t it be awesome if Flash saw you talking to them and they ignored him.”

Peter settled him with a look. “That’s not going to happen, Ned.”

When he got back home, he almost hesitated to mention the whole thing. He was going to have to get May to sign the permission slip since she was still his guardian, but if Peter was going to go -- and he really couldn’t not without giving ammunition to Flash to make fun of him with -- he was going to have to make sure that he did appear to be an intern at SI. Peter couldn’t remember the last time he had gone down to those floors of the building. He assumed that the trip was going to be geared towards the R&D rooms. Maybe he could get Pepper to help him out with making his story seem legitimate.

He ran into Steve as he was getting out of the elevator.

“Hey, Peter,” Steve said. “Not patrolling today?”

“I might go out later,” Peter said and followed Steve to the kitchen where Sam was in the middle of taking cookies out of the oven.

“Well we were planning on a movie if you want to join,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I will,” Peter said. It offered for the perfect distraction. He would figure out what he was going to do about the trip later.

Chapter One Hundred Ten

#peter and tony #peter and tony fic #mcuwriting #mcu fic #iron dad #iron dad and spider son #stony #stony fic #marvel

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