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jakesdeviatedseptum · 3 years

Note

hi hi! i’d like to request, if that’s okay!

i’d love one where jake & reader are play wrestling—i hope that makes sense—and jake accidentally actually hurts reader, and from there, it’s just fluff of him being worried?

Honesty I had so much fun writing this! Thank you for requesting love! I hope you like it 🥺🤍

T.K.O

Jake x Reader

- in which a normal movie night turns into something a little more ~hectic~

Warnings : a little blood

Word count - 1.5k

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Some may think that casual movie nights are tranquil, peaceful, quiet, and relaxing. But not when it’s a movie night with the Kiszka’s. It’s not all of the Kiszka’s per say, Sam had his rowdy moments but for the most part he was collected. He would shout out the occasional “what the fuck was he thinking?!” Or “No, don’t tell me she's gonna go in there, and now she's dead” when it was a horror night. If we were watching a romance movie he’d say “ew, this sappy shit is not real” or “I wish I had a love like that”. Comedy movies would have him in straight up hysterics, laughing and giggling all throughout, because honestly, it doesn't take much to make Sam laugh. But sad heartfelt movies left Sam in silence, simply because he was too busy trying to wipe his tears without anyone noticing, or discreetly blowing his nose and playing it off as “allergies”.

Essentially Sam was the commentator that would let his thoughts travel from his mind out through his mouth, you could handle that easily.

When Veronica would join in on movie nights, her mannerisms mirrored your own. You two would share the popcorn in synchronized motions, laugh at Sam’s comments and poke fun at him when he sniffled. She would usually only stay for a movie or two, or when the first bowl of popcorn was done. She knew to leave before the twins started their antics, sadly you couldn’t escape.

Josh, well Josh is the filmmaker of the family, he prides himself on his knowledge and makes sure everyone in the room is aware of it too. As soon as the suspenseful music starts to play his mouth shoots open “Her uncle is going to be around the corner, butcher knife in hand, with the missing girl on the table. I just know it, it was building up the entire movie! Filmmaking 101” a smile dances across his face as the movie plays out exactly as he described. “See I told you guys, it’s just basic film reading” everyone stares at him, brows frowned and eyes narrowed to show annoyance. He raises his hands in surrender and promises to keep quiet during the next movie, but everyone knows that those promises are ones he will always break.

Jake, now Jake usually starts the night with you under his arm, resting his head atop yours, attention shifting between looking at the screen to scanning over your face. The occasional kiss will be placed on the side of your head, and he’ll run his hand through your hair occasionally. This position usually switches when you get up to refill the popcorn bowl. Going from the little spoon to the big spoon. Once you hand the refilled bowl to Sam you sit on the couch, legs tucked beneath you as you wrap your arms around jake. He leans into your body until his head is in your lap. Your hands find their way into his hair, brushing through any tangles and sometimes entertaining a braid. This position is usually held until jakes not so quiet snores are heard by everyone in the room. Sam simply glances towards Jake, and then back to the screen. But Josh, being Jake's twin, physically can not let him be. Whether it be plugging his brother's nose, giving him a wet willy, or something that could be described as pest-like, Josh is determined to disturb his brother's slumber. This usually results in them wrestling around on the ground until something breaks, or one of the two throws in the towel and surrenders.

But tonight was not a ‘usual’ night.

Well tonight started off as a usual night, Sam was on his second pack of tissues, Veronica had been long gone, and Jake was peacefully snoring away on your lap. Josh sauntered into the kitchen and returned with a cold glass of water in his hand with a mischievous look on his face. He kneeled down in front of you, level eyed with a sleeping Jake. “Sorry if I get water on you, it's for a good cause” Josh says looking towards you before he slowly pours the ice cold water right on top of Jake's head. Jake shoots up as soon as the water meets his face. It takes him a minute to register his surroundings, but as soon as his eyes land on Josh he’s tackling him onto the ground. “You ass that was fucking cold!” You hear Jake grunt as they’re rolling around trying to pin each other down. “Oops my hand slipped” Josh giggled as he broke free from Jake's hold. Usually you would just shake your head and try to crank your neck around to continue watching the movie, but the little dance Josh decided to do, while sticking his tongue out and attaching his hands to his ears wiggling his fingers made a giggle escape from your lips.

Big mistake.

Jake narrows his eyes at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips, “oh you think that’s funny huh?” He taunts as his hands wrap around your ankle and pulls you off the couch. You land on the ground with a thump, and Sam’s eyes shoot open wide, an “oh shit” expression on his face. You look up to Jake who’s standing above you “oh you are so on lover boy” you exclaim as you crawl through his legs and lung onto his back. He stumbled slightly, then slammed you down onto the plush couch. You both laugh at each other as he hovers over you. You grab his shoulders and fling the both of you off the couch and back onto the floor. Giggles escape the both while rolling around on the floor. That is until Jake bumps into the side table and the vase sitting on top starts to wobble and falls crashing down, hitting your head and shattering. The room immediately goes silent. You feel a tiny trail of wetness meet your brow, you grace your fingers across your forehead and bring your hand into view, a small amount of blood lingers on your fingers. You look up to Jake and see him staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. His lip starts to quiver and you immediately feel bad. Before you can say anything, Jake rushes into the kitchen, and before you can even sit up he’s back in front of you with a wet rag, paper towels, and a box of band-aides. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I got ahead of myself, I was too rough, fuck are you okay?” His voice cracks and tears gloss over his eyes. He helps you up and sits you on the couch. You see Sam leave and return with a broom to sweep up the broken vase. Jake starts to clean the small cut on your forehead, first with the wet rag, then drying it with the paper towels. A tear rolls down his cheek as he lightly shakes his head, probably beating himself up in his head. You bring your hand up to his cheek, brushing away the trail of wetness the tear left behind, “Bubba, I’m fine, it was an accident, and honestly I can’t even feel the cut, I swear it doesn’t hurt.” Jake avoids your eyes as he opens the box of band-aides. “Still, it doesn’t matter. I caused this to happen to you.” You grab his hands, pausing his movements. He looks at you and you notice more trails of wet tears staining his cheeks. You reach your arms around him and pull him close, you place light kisses to the side of his head and rub your hands along his back. “Jake, I’m fine, it’s not even bleeding anymore, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He removes himself from your embrace and sits on the couch, pulling you into him. You lay your head on his chest and intertwine your hand with his. “Do you need anything? Water, snacks, a blanket?” You shake your head no, and before a word could be formed Jake starts up again, “wait shit, do you think you could have a concussion? get in the car, I'll take you to the hospital.” He starts to get up, and you start to protest before you're cut off again. “Actually no, don’t get up, I’ll carry you.” He starts to snake his hands under your knees and across you back, but before he could successfully pick you up you manage to get out your words. “Jake please, I’m fine seriously, not even a headache, the vase wasn’t big nor heavy, so just lay back down and hold me please.” He abides by your request and once again you are graced by his warm embrace. From the love seat, opposite of the room, Josh speaks up for the first time since the wrestling catastrophe occurred. “Talk about a T.K.O” he smirks towards Jake knowing he wouldn’t leave your side to try and rough him up.

#greta van fleet imagine #jake kiszka imagine #josh kiszka imagine #Sammy kiszka imagine #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #sammy kiszka #greta van fleet #imagine

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stevesbestgirl · 3 years

Text

Pickpocket

Lee Bodecker x f!Reader

3410 words

Warnings: a few curses, brief gun use, mentions of alcohol/being drunk

A/N: Week 3 of my D20 Writing Event, found here! I think this is my favorite one so far and I was super excited to write a little more for Lee! I may have overdone it on the accent, but I limited myself to two pet names, so fair’s fair.

"Goodness, I'm so sorry, sir!" You gave a half-glance behind you as you hurried past, deftly tucking your hand inside your shoulder bag.

"Watch where you're going!" he called after you.

You listened for one, two, three beats and there were no footsteps in pursuit. Ducking down an alley and around the side of the donut shop, you glanced around the backyard before pulling the wallet from your bag and rifling through. It wasn’t a bad score; fifteen dollars and some change. Pulling the cash out, you tossed the wallet aside, thinking about what you'd have for dinner tonight.

"Now that wasn't very nice of ya," a voice drawled.

Your head snapped to the corner of the building, where a police officer was leaning against the brick. You blood went cold and your heartbeat was suddenly loud in your ears; you didn’t like cops. Even before you’d started picking pockets, they’d always made you nervous.

He stooped the pick up the wallet you'd tossed aside, flipping it open “Mr. Brewer will be awful disappointed when he gets home and realizes his paycheck’s gone missin’.”

Your eyes darted from one end of the yard to the next; if you could get over to Mr. Pelley’s broken-down Chevy, you could hop the fence and disappear. You glanced at the officer; he had close cropped brown hair poking out from under his wide-brimmed hat, a square jaw and a chin with a deep cleft. He was tall and thickly built- that, plus the bit of belly than hung over his belt meant he was probably slow.

Your gaze landed on the shiny Sheriff’s badge that gleamed on his chest. It looked like it had been recently polished. He was still busy examining the wallet, so you pushed off the wall like a runner off a block and bolted for the rusted truck.

“Hey!” You heard him shout after you as you clambered into the bed of the truck, “Hold it!” Ignoring him, you hauled yourself up and onto the roof, ready to fling yourself over the fence when a shot pinged off the chain link just to your right. You froze, heart beating in your throat.

“That’s better, now turn around,” he instructed. Gritting your teeth, you did as he said, turning in a circle to face him, your hands raised. “Attagirl.” He had his pistol still raised, though his finger was no longer on the trigger.

“What do you want?”

He chuckled, “What do I want? I’m the Sheriff, sweetheart. ‘S my job to protect the people of Meade from thieves like you.”

You glared at him, “And what about thieves like you?”

He grinned, “I see you gotta little fight in ya, hm? I like that.”

“Like I give a damn what you like,” you hissed.

“No need to get testy on me now. You got a couple of options here. You can climb down from there, lemme cuff ya and take you to the station for booking, or you can try to make that jump faster than I can get a shot off, though I wouldn’t recommend that one if ‘m bein’ honest.”

“Is there a third option?” you asked sarcastically.

“Sure is; I can return Mr. Brewer’s wallet to him- tell ‘em he musta dropped it. Then there’s no reason to press charges and you’ll be free to come with me to the county fair this weekend.”

Your hands indignantly dropped to your hips, “You can’t be serious, Sheriff.”

“Serious as can be. It’s a shame to see a sweet girl like you stealin’ from folks. Least at the fair, I can keep an eye on ya.”

“Yeah, I’m sure your intentions are real gentlemanly, huh?”

He huffed, “I’m not gonna take advantage of ya, I just wanna show you what it’s like to be on the right side of the law for once.”

“I s’pose you think that’s where you are then? On the right side of the law?”

“I like that quick wit of yours, girl, but if you hate me so much, I got no problem booking ya-”

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

He grinned, “Well, looks like we got ourselves a date. Now how ‘bout you climb down from there and put Mr. Brewer’s money back in his wallet for me.”

Heaving a sigh, you slid over the edge of the truck, landing deftly in a crouch. You reluctantly forked over the cash and crossed your arms as the sheriff put it back where it belonged.

He glanced at you, making you realize how much of a deep blue his eyes were, “Y'ever been to the county fair before?"

"No," you lied. You'd gone, but never for the funnel cake. The fair was a prime spot for picking pockets- hell, sometimes people left their purses lying around for the taking.

"Well, you're gonna love it. We can ride the carousel, 'n watch the horse pulling contest. I'll get ya a funnel cake and win a prize for ya at the shooting gallery." He grinned, "I'm real good at that ring toss game too."

"I don't think it's possible to be good at the ring toss. Those games are all rigged anyways," you sulked.

"Not for the Sheriff they're not," he chortled. "I'll show ya this weekend, don't you worry, darlin'."

You didn't like the way your stomach flipped at the term of endearment; you were only doing this so he wouldn't bust you for stealing. One date, that was the deal.

"Okay," you agreed. "I'll see you this weekend, Sheriff."

"Lee's jus' fine, darlin'. I'll see ya at the fair- you should be able to find me working the parking lot in the morning. But for now, you have yourself a fine night.” He moved toward the alley that would take him back to the street, pausing to add, “And don’t be thinkin’ ‘bout disappearin’ on me. Cause I’ll find ya and then you’ll be in real trouble.”

Your mouth went dry at the threat and you nodded stiffly. Satisfied, he rounded the corner and jogged, likely to catch up to Mr. Brewer so he could return his wallet to him. You crouched, clutching your head in your hands and letting out a deep groan, what had you gotten yourself into now?

You caught yourself straightening your skirt as you walked through the entrance, people crowding around you as they flooded into the fair. The Sheriff had said he'd be working the parking lot in the morning, but you hadn't seen him out there.

Another uniformed man was looking bored by the ticket booth; you could probably ask him where to find the Sheriff, but approaching a cop was enough to make your palms sweat. But if you didn't find him, you doubted he'd accept that as an excuse and then you'd end up serving time.

"Er, excuse-" you winced as he glanced at you, his gaze sharp. Swallowing hard, you started again, "Excuse me. I'm looking for Sheriff Bodecker, d'you know where I could find him?"

"What do I look like, his keeper?" He instantly turned away, indicating he was through talking.

Your temper flared, "No, you look like-"

"Y/N! Over here darlin'!" You glanced over your shoulder at the cart where they sold food; the Sheriff was brandishing a plateful of funnel cake.

He was in his uniform, the no-nonsense brown a stark contrast to the bright smile on his face. It was easy to see how he'd gotten so popular; he was handsome and he wore the costume well. Seeing an officer in uniform usually made your stomach twist in anxiety, but the way it leapt at the sight of the sheriff was entirely different.

Allowing your sharp insult to fade from your tongue, you shot the deputy a scathing look before making your way over to Lee. "Thought you were on parking lot duty?” Your tone was flat; you were a little annoyed that you’d had to speak to the deputy. But you quickly reminded yourself that you had to play nice, just for today.

"Cut out a lil early so I could get us somethin' to eat," he beamed. "Thought ya might not wanna wait in that line." He tipped his head and only then did you notice the line that stretched from the cart all the way into the stream of new arrivals.

Your annoyance softened, "That line's gotta be at least three quarters of an hour long, we coulda skipped it."

"Nah, it was shorter when I got in line- wasn't so bad. But ya better have some of this before it gets cold, sweetheart."

"Pretty sweet stuff for breakfast, Sheriff," you teased, pulling off a piece of the still-warm pastry.

He followed your lead, unbothered by the cinnamon and powdered sugar coating his fingers, "Got a little bit of a sweet tooth- probably why I took a fancy to ya." He winked at you.

You laughed aloud, "How many ladies have you wooed with that one, Sheriff Bodecker?"

"If it worked on you, that makes one, darlin'," he smirked, sliding his sugar-dusted thumb between those plump lips of his.

You realized you were staring when those lips spread into a wider smile as he sucked the powder from the pad of his thumb.

"And when ya gonna start calling me Lee, sweets?"

You grinned, grateful for the opportunity to be witty again, "I'll start calling ya Lee when I'm not nervous Sheriff Bodecker's gonna lock me up."

He sobered slightly, "If I was gonna charge ya, I woulda done it by now. You got nothin' to worry about so long as you behave yourself."

You popped another piece of cake in your mouth to delay responding, your voice soft, "Thanks Lee."

He beamed, "Now that's more like it. Whaddaya wanna do first?"

True to his word, you hit all the highlights. The horse-pulling contest wasn't particularly exciting, but the sight of the sheriff on the carousel wasn't one you'd soon forget.

"What do ya say to some games, sweetheart?"

"You gonna show me those ring toss skills I've heard so much about?"

He grinned, "You best-"

The crackle of the radio on his belt interrupted, "We got a 10-51, possible altercation by the ferris wheel."

Lee grimaced, speaking into the radio, "I'm nearby, I’ll check it out." He offered an apologetic look, "You mind waiting here, darlin'? I'll be right back for ya."

"What's a 10-51?"

"Just some drunk idiot causin' a fuss," he huffed.

"I'll come with ya then," you chirped. "I've always meant to ride a ferris wheel anyways."

He appeared to consider arguing, but ultimately chose to nod, leading the way, "Just stay behind me, alright?"

"Sure."

"Ya never been on a ferris wheel before?"

"Nah, was never bothered, I s'pose," you shrugged.

"But now you wanna try it?" He was smirking, "Y'know, the ferris wheel's s'posed to be a romantic spot."

"That's not-"

"C'mon, you wanna say somethin'? Say it t'my face, ya coward!"

A man who looked a little younger than Lee was stumbling back and forth toward the ferris wheel operator, his fists raised until he wobbled backwards, nearly toppling himself over. There was a ring of curious fair-goers around him, but no one made an effort to stop him, clearly enjoying the entertainment.

Lee brushed your arm softly as he broke through the edge of the circle, a clear instruction to stay back. He adjusted his hat, his voice suddenly booming, "What's the problem here?"

"He had his turn-"

"This clown won't let me ride again!" the drunk shouted over the operator.

"Sir, you could ride again if you get back in line-"

"I've already done my waitin', I just wan' one more go round," he protested, making a beeline for the empty cart currently on the ground. Lee's arm shot out, blocking his path and the man nearly clotheslined himself, stumbling into Lee's chest.

"Son, if ya can't behave yourself, you'll get booted from the whole fair. If ya wanna ride again, you gotta wait like everyone else," Lee said firmly, pulling the man up straight by his collar.

"Ah, yer just bitter that the ferris wheel can't hold your fat ass, Sheriff," the man hooted, amused by his own joke.

"Hey!" you protested, pushing through the edge of the ring. "He's just doin' his job!" God, you were defending a cop. Spending the day with Lee had made you soft.

"Don’t worry, darlin', I've got 'em under control," Lee reassured you, though he looked a bit ruffled by the insult.

"'Darlin',' is it? Hey, how much'd he pay you to come out with him today, toots? Musta been a lot- that 'r he threatened to lock ya up if ya said no, huh?" He howled with laughter, unaware of the way Lee's cheeks flushed.

"That's enough god dammit," you hissed, stalking into the middle of the circle. "Yer ruinin' the fair for everyone, now go home and sober up until you feel the shame your mama feels at having raised such a disrespectful little milksop."

His face twisted at the insult, "Don't tell me y'actually like this fat, old bastard-"

The next thing you know, your clenched fist was connecting with his jaw, the impact jarring on your knuckles. His balance already tenuous, the drunk collapsed onto his rear, the small cloud of dust rising from the dirt. He howled with rage, trying to stand and take a swipe, but he could barely stand up.

For the first time, Lee seemed completely dumbstruck. He watched as the man crumpled, his gaze quickly flicking back to you as you glared down at the drunk, exhaling fiercely through your nose. It wasn't until he swiped at your skirt, a coherent insult finally forming on his beer-drenched tongue that Lee seemed to snap out of it.

"That's enough now, son. You're done here," he said firmly, hiking him up by the collar of his shirt.

"Me? That bitch just clocked me!"

"And it's a helluva lot better 'n what ya shoulda got, actin' a fool in public. I should knock ya again for talkin' like that 'bout a lady," Lee gave him a shake. "Now let's go.” Lee sent you a curt nod, "I'll be back for ya in ten."

Your stomach lurched; what did that mean? There was no pet name attached, no charming smile. You'd wanted to stick up for Lee, but maybe you'd only made things worse. You had just decked a man at the county fair- Lee would be within his rights to boot you out too.

You watched him disappear into the crowd, dragging the man alongside him. You glanced at the ferris wheel; you really had wanted to ride it with Lee. Your gut was telling you to run- to disappear into the crowd before you could get in trouble. But you didn't have it in you to go. You'd been having a good time today; better than you'd thought you would.

Realizing your fist was still clenched, you hastily unfurled your fingers, wincing at the ache already building in your knuckles. You didn't regret what you'd done; you only hoped you hadn't made Lee's job more difficult. And if he was gonna arrest you- well, there were worse things to get pinched for.

Resigning yourself to your punishment, you waited, watching the ferris wheel spin. You'd have to try it another time.

"Here ya go, darlin'," Lee's voice came from right behind you, making you jump.

You spun around, guiltily biting your lip, braced for the worst. But he was only brandishing a paper cup with ice cubes in it. "For your hand."

"You're- not bootin' me out?"

He laughed loud enough that several people looked your way, "Why would I boot ya out?"

"I punched somebody!"

He grinned, "That was official police business- you were well within your rights." He shook the cup, "Now get this ice on those knuckles before they swell. We riding this wheel or not?"

You glanced at the ferris wheel again, chewing your lip as you accepted the cup of ice. Meeting the bright blue of his eyes, glinting with amusement, you nodded.

"Sheriff, you ridin'?" the operator called over.

"C'mon sweets, we'll skip the line, just this once." He led the way to the exit, where the operator was holding the gate open for you. "Thanks for clearing that up," he tipped his head at Lee as he closed the gate behind you.

Lee chuckled, "I just did the clean-up. This little lady solved the problem." He slid his arm around your waist and your chest went fuzzy at the intimate weight of his palm on your hip.

"Then my thanks go to you ma'am. Enjoy your ride."

You nodded your thanks and climbed into the cart, settling in the corner and tracing an ice cube between your knuckles. It did make them feel a little better. Lee climbed in after you, making the car sway slightly as he settled in across from you.

With a lurch, you were in motion and your gaze was torn from Lee to the expanse of the fair, spreading out below you as the wheel turned. Cresting the top, you gazed out at the maze of tents and the swarms of people shuffling from one place to the next. You watched the booths come back into focus as you circled back down and around again. Glancing at Lee, your cheeks warmed under his gaze.

"Nice view, huh?"

You nodded, scanning his face carefully. You hadn't ever thought of Lee as fat- he was huskier than a younger man would be, sure. His jaw and cheeks were a little rounded, his belly full and soft, but he wore it well, wielding it as a strength rather than a weakness. He was strong and steady- Lee felt like safety. And he was a bit older than you admittedly, but you were both adults. Hell, your mama and daddy had damn near a decade between the two of them.

Halting at the very top with a clang and a faint creaking as the car swayed slightly, you spoke up, "I'm sorry, Lee. 'Bout what he said."

He smiled wryly, "He's right, ain't he? I am old- 'm already forty. 'N I'm not as trim as I was when I was your age. I'm the one who should be apologizin'- I did force ya to come here with me."

"I-" You bit down on your lip again, "I'm glad you did."

He brightened a little, "Yeah?"

You nodded, "Yeah. And I think you're more handsome than those boys my age by a mile." Your cheeks grew hot at the admission and you turned your gaze back to the ice leaving a trail of cool dampness over your knuckles.

"C'mere darlin'. Let me take a look at that hand." He patted the seat next to him and you gave a hesitant nod before moving across the aisle.

Holding your wrist in his hand, he gently brushed his fingers over the redness on your knuckles, "It hurtin'?"

"Just a little bit," you admitted.

"Keep icing it, lemme know if it's not better by the end of the day." He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, his eyes on yours.

His lips were soft on your skin and you bashfully averted your gaze at the look in his eyes. Casting your gaze down, you found your eyes fixed on his mouth and you wondered what those lips might feel like on your own.

Sliding your hand through his grasp to rest on his chest, you leaned in. He automatically cupped your cheek as your lips found his, pulling you into him as your lips brushed over his own. His breath catching audibly, he moved his lips against yours, brushing his thumb down the line of your jaw.

With a jolt, the car began moving again and you broke apart, Lee's breath warm on your cheeks. He draped an arm over your shoulders, "This mean you're gonna be my girl?"

"Dont get ahead of yourself, Sheriff," you teased. "But I do need to report a crime."

He smirked, "If you're gonna tell me ya stole my heart, I already know, darlin'."

Your stomach flipped, but you reached into your dress pocket, coyly pulling out his wallet, "Old habits die hard, I s'pose. Think we can work out a deal?"

He grinned, "I'll come up with somethin'."

#lee bodecker x reader #lee x reader #lee bodecker #the devil all the time #d20 writing event

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thatrandomwriter · 3 years

Text

Rooftop Romance

merle x reader

warnings: swearing, gore, sexual language

“You sure he’s worth it?” T-Dog asked, skepticism written across his face.

“Him and Daryl are our best hunters. They may both share about three brain cells, and Merle is about the biggest asshole I’ve ever met-“

“Hey, fuck you,” Merle cut in. I ignored him.

“But the fact is we need them to survive. We’ll make it out of the city, but you need to go before the others leave without you,”

T-Dog looked conflicted, but after a few seconds he dashed out of the door, racing down the stairs. I pulled the door shut, locking it behind him. There was a strong chance that I had just ensured my own death as well as Merle’s. The sound of the dead beating on the door almost as soon as T-Dog had left seemed to give Merle the same idea.

“Well fucking come on then princess, I ain’t getting any younger over here.” He had that god awful smirk plastered across his face. “You know, there’s a lot I can do with these hands. Maybe I can show ya once I’m free,” he made a crude gesture with his cuffed hand.

“Maybe if you didn’t say shit like that all the time, someone might actually wanna fuck you. You’re disgusting, you know that?”

Instead of waiting for his no-doubt even worse reply, I walked over to see what had been left in Dale’s toolbox. It was mostly screwdrivers and spanners, nothing of any use to me, but I noted a hammer and most importantly a hacksaw. Hopefully it would be strong enough to get through the metal of Merle’s handcuff.

“Call me disgusting all ya like, everyone knows you want a piece of this,”

My cheeks grew hot and I fumbled the saw, almost dropping it as I walked over to him. It was a humiliating feeling to know that he was right. To know that despite what a piece of shit he was, over the few weeks I’d known him, I had developed some form of feelings for him. Merle had found me while out checking the camp’s perimeter with Shane. Having just escaped the city, I was exhausted and terrified, and just about ready to collapse on the forest floor and give up. Of course, Merle’s reasoning for taking me back likely had more to do with wanting to fuck me than anything else, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that Shane would have taken me back if Merle hadn’t been there to bear witness. We weren’t exactly close, but we shared a fondness for drinking and he taught me a few things about using a crossbow. I didn’t fool myself into thinking he wanted anything more than a one time fling with me; he flirted with just about anything with tits. But some small, stupid part of me still hoped for more.

I sat next to him, pulling his hand toward me to get a better look at the handcuffs. When I looked up, he was staring into my face with another stupid grin. I sent him a glare back.

“Come on now, don’t be like that. Last I checked we’re all alone up here, no-one needs to know, part from maybe a few walkers,”

“Would you quit it? I’m trying to save your life.”

“Jus’ trying to lighten the mood. You should really try lightening up sometime, wouldn’t kill ya,”

I rolled my eyes, corner of my mouth twitching upwards slightly.

“Looks like cutting through the cuffs is gonna be a no go, but this pipe you’ve been cuffed too looks pretty old. It’s worth a try at least,” I lined up Dale’s saw, and began working at the metal.

“So I’m gonna be stuck with a friendship bracelet from Officer Friendly?”

The thought made me laugh a little.

“It’s not like you don’t deserve it; threatening everyone with a gun wasn’t exactly your best moment.” I teased. In his defence, he had most definitely been high as a kite when he’d started pointing the gun. Not that that really made it any better.

“I wasn’t gunna shoot em. Definitely wasn’t gunna shoot you, ya far too beautiful,” Merle said.

“And so’s Andrea, right? And Lori, and Jackie, and every other woman who isn’t trying to eat us,”

“I dunno, some of those walkers ain’t too bad,”

I hit him on the shoulder.

“Can’t I make a joke? Or are ya gunna get jealous, hmm?”

I stopped talking to him after that, focusing instead on trying to make any headway with the pipe he was handcuffed to. After an hour or so, I had only made a tiny dent in the metal. Merle was getting increasingly annoying, and the sun was starting to slowly set in the sky. If we wanted to leave today I’d have to hurry; travelling the city in the dark was a death sentence. At least the walkers at the rooftop door seemed to have given up, or gotten distracted by some other unfortunate souls. They had stopped pounding on the door some time ago.

The saw blade bent slightly, but I persisted, determined to succeed, speeding up. Under the strain of my sawing, the blade bent sideways, and suddenly snapped under the pressure, coming clattering to the floor.

“The fuck did you do?” Merle demanded.

“The blade wasn’t strong enough. It couldn’t get through the pipe. I’m sorry.” I felt suddenly numb. I couldn’t look at him. I’d failed. I’d failed him. He was stuck here, to starve or to be eaten by walkers.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna fucking die up here, god fucking damnit. Look at me, the fuck did you do?” He grabbed my shoulder with his free hand, gripping me hard, shaking me, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” It was one of the first serious, genuine things I’d said to Merle, and it was a death sentence. Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t have the energy to hide them.

“No. Fuck that, we’re ain’t done yet. You got a knife, right?” He was still staring into my face, but desperate anger had shifted to urgency.

“Yes, but it won’t cut through metal,” I said.

His grim expression told me that he had already figured that out.

“You can’t be serious. You want me to- I can’t,” There had to be another way.

“You got no choice. It’s my hand or my life.”

It took me a few seconds to process this. The only way out would be to cut off his hand. And I would have to be the one to do it.

“Fine. But I’ll do it first thing in the morning. We don’t have time to get out of the city before it gets dark, and I don’t want you bleeding out overnight.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you cared about me,” His shit eating grin was back. Only Merle could look this smug after discovering his hand was about to be cut off.

“Good job you know better then,” I smiled and sat next to him, looking out over the darkening city. At least we were stuck somewhere with an impressive view. The setting sun sent orange streaking through the sky, bathing buildings in a warm glow. I glanced to my side. Merle appeared to also be taking in the sunset in a rare moment of silence.

“I’d do the same for you ya know,” Merle said, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“No you wouldn’t.” I replied. It wasn’t something that upset me, it was just a fact - if the roles were reversed, I had doubts that Merle would have stayed on this rooftop even for Daryl.

“Course I would. Yer one of the only people I can stand in that group, not to mention ya got a mighty fine ass,” He grinned over at me. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah, course I do. I could stare at it all day,”

I hit his shoulder with mine.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I ain’t good with the mushy stuff, don’t push it,” He was still smiling, eyes looking into mine for once instead of straying to glance down my shirt.

“Sounds like you care about me, Merle. More than you usually let on at least,” I was teasing him but this moment meant a lot; in short, Merle was shit at showing anyone affection. For him, this was like a declaration of love.

“Yer not gonna make me say it again so drop it,” he huffed.

“I’m just kidding around. And I didn’t just stay here because you’re a good hunter,” I confessed, staring pointedly into the distance to avoid his eyes.

“Course ya didn’t, ain’t no way you’d let me die without getting a piece of this,” It seemed to be his way of lightening the mood, diverting the seriousness of the conversation.

“We should get some sleep, busy day tomorrow.”

When the hot sun awoke me the next morning, I found myself nestled into Merle’s side, head on his shoulder, his free arm wrapped around me. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling of his broad body against mine, before pulling away to wake him up. The sooner we were gone, the better.

“Mornin’ “ he grinned lazily.

“You ready?” I asked, and his expression dropped to one of determined focus.

“As I’ll ever be,”

I retrieved my knife and a lighter from one of the pockets of my rucksack. It would have to do as a means of sanitising the blade as I had very little in the way of medical supplies. Shrugging off the button down I wore over a tank top, I folded it ready to use as a bandage for Merle. I could have sworn his eyes slipped down to my cleavage, far more noticeable now the shirt was off, but I wasn’t in the mood to bring it up.

“Can I have your belt?” I asked.

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” He said, the implied innuendo obvious. He unbuckled it with his free hand and tugged it loose.

I strapped it around his forearm, tight as I could make it, a makeshift tourniquet that would hopefully do something to stop the bleeding. It had to be enough.

Merle reached inside his pocket, and withdrew a small bag of white powder.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” I asked, very aware of the dangers we’d face in the city even if he survived losing his hand. Merle being off his face wouldn’t do us any favours.

“Need a little somethin’ to take the edge off,” He tried to form his usual smug grin, but his mouth wavered slightly. I nodded. Who was I to make that decision for him?

I gave him a minute or so, and when he nodded at me, I took my knife to his wrist and began to cut. There was far more blood than I had thought. And despite Merle’s best efforts to remain stoic, and the effects of the drugs, he was in an unbelievable amount of pain. I had to fight the urge to just give up and cry in a corner, but I did it for him. Even when he begged me to stop, to just make the pain stop. His yelling had begun to attract walkers, a few were banging on the rooftop door and the longer this took the more there would be. He gripped my arm as I cut, hard enough to bruise.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over again as I finished, his hand dropping to the floor with a sickening thunk.

Merle was breathing heavily, gasping through the pain. I pressed my shirt against the wound, tying it tightly and leaving the belt in place. There was so much blood. On my hands, my pants, the rooftop.

“Stay there. I’m going to clear the stairwell, I’ll be right back.”

He nodded.

I unlocked the door and wedged my foot under the door to prevent it opening all the way, a walker slamming forward and right onto my knife. It slumped to the floor. Another was quick to take its place. I worked my way through several before they finally stopped coming. Hopefully only a few had been close enough to hear Merle.

I hurried back toward him. The bleeding seemed to be slowing slightly, though it still showed no signs of stopping. He was losing too much blood. But I wasn’t willing to face that reality.

“You think you can stand?”

“Course I can,” he replied through gritted teeth.

I grabbed his good arm and pulled him forward, helping him stand, putting the arm around my shoulders so I could take some of his body weight. He was heavy, but any help I could give him I would.

We walked to the door and I lead him down the stairwell; it wasn’t wide enough for the two of us side by side, but he leaned on my back and I did my best to steady him on the way down. He stumbled a couple of times, no doubt the blood-loss making him dizzy, but we moved as slowly as I dared, me supporting him when he needed it. At the bottom, another walker lunged towards us. It took me a moment to grab my knife and stick it between its eyes, and I kept the blade in my hand after that. One free hand would have to do to help Merle. It was strange, having to protect him like this. Normally I was certain he’d object to me coddling him like this, but he had no choice but to rely on me for once. We made it to a fire exit around the back of the building in a room with several gas stoves. Merle wasn’t looking his best, blood dripping through the makeshift bandage on his arm. He seemed to have the idea at the same time as me.

“Do it,” He nodded grimly and I grimaced, but didn’t hesitate to light the nearest stove, placing a metal tray on top on the flames to heat through enough to cauterise the stump of his wrist.

“We’re gonna make it back, you know. “

“I know,” He said, but it was easy to see the uncertainty in his eyes.

The metal tray seemed hot enough, and I could tell he was gathering the will to do it, slowly, reluctantly unwrapping the open wound. I wasn’t entirely sure Merle could bring himself to. Gently, I took his arm in my hands, unwrapping it myself. Instead of watching the shirt unravel, he stared down into my face. Despite the circumstances, he still made my cheeks hot with the intensity of his gaze which I somehow managed to meet. I reached up, hooking an arm around his neck and a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. He waited for me to move closer first, and when I leaned my face towards his, he wasted no time in bridging the gap between us with a searing kiss. He was perfectly distracted. It was a shame to waste this moment but I did what had to be done, and drove his wrist down onto the hot metal on the stove.

“Son of a fucking bitch!” He exclaimed, yanking his arm away from the stove, and I winced.

“Shit, I’m sorry, but the bleeding’s stopped, right?”

He glared at me through the pain. “You serious?”

“I said I’m sorry, and I did just stop you from bleeding to death,” I smiled tentatively, and he shook his head, still cursing.

“So ya kiss like that fer a distraction? I’d love ta know what the real thing feels like,”

Kissing him had been stupid. But I was in the mood to be stupid, and I couldn’t resist kissing him again. He somehow mustered up that stupid, endearing grin as I pulled him towards me, lips meeting as his good arm found my waist. I could lose myself in the feeling of kissing Merle, all teeth and tongues colliding with no need to be gentle. His hand scooped me in closer until I was pressed up against him, before drifting to my ass with a squeeze. I hummed in pleasure, forgetting to breathe as he kissed me harder. When we finally broke apart all I wanted was to lean back in and kiss him again and again, to stay like this, pressed as close against him as I could be, not thinking about anything else.

“Knew ya wanted a piece of this,” Merle smirked. God he was insufferable. But I was willing to suffer, so long as he kept kissing me like that.

#the walking dead #twd #merle dixon #merle dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #t dog #oneshot #imagine #rick grimes #reader insert

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Twenty-Six

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: writing this chapter was so much fun but reading it was a train wreck so you’ll just have to find out yourself whether it’s actually good or not. hurt/comfort ahead

***

Most of Nesta’s days lately are spent holed up in her basement apartment, either studying for her finals or preparing for her move—which means that whenever Cassian wants to see her, she has to haul ass all the way to the cabin to make time for him.

Like now, on the morning of her birthday, as she stands in her pajamas and slippers in the middle of Cassian’s home gym. Staring at the reason behind his urgent phone call telling her to come over.

“It’s a pole,” she says dumbly.

“Happy birthday,” he says, looking proud of himself. “Consider it an incentive to move in faster, okay?”

“It’s a pole,” she repeats. Tall and gleaming, it stands in front of the wall of mirrors away from most of the workout equipment. “You installed a pole?”

The gift itself isn’t that surprising—Cassian could afford an entire pole dancing studio if he wanted to. What surprises her is that it’s installed here, in Cassian’s personal space. The gym is to Cassian what the reading nook is to Nesta, if not even more sacred. Nesta rarely enters it, but now… he’s extending a blatant invitation into his space.

“I know you already take classes with Gwyn and Emerie,” Cassian is saying, “but you haven’t gotten to go in a while because of school and work, so I thought it would be easier for you if I brought the dance studio over here.” He scratches his head, and Nesta’s eyes drift to the silver watch on his wrist. “You never told me you used to dance. I found out from Feyre, and she sent me videos of your old ballet recitals.”

“Did she?”

Cassian nods along. “You were good. You’re still good now, which is why you should wipe that look off your face and thank me for your gift.”

Nesta is sure she looks stupefied, but she doesn’t do anything to rein it in. She has so many thoughts, and she can only think of saying, “I don’t want to practice in front of you.”

“You don’t have to,” Cassian promises. “Other than early mornings, maybe evenings, the gym will be empty for you.”

Okay. “You—” Nesta starts, “You’re really okay with this?”

Cassian’s face drops in confusion. “Okay with what?” He looks at the pole and back at Nesta. “Do you not like it?”

“Are you okay with giving me part of the gym? Where are you going to go if you want to be alone?” She chews on her lip.

Cassian laughs. “Why would I want to be alone?”

Nesta shrugs. “I need it at least once a week. I figured everyone else was the same way.” Her alone spot in the cabin is her former bedroom from the first time she lived here. Cassian knows not to enter that room, and on days when she spends time in there he simply waits until she comes out. Nesta assumed the gym was close to being something like that for Cassian.

Realization crosses Cassian’s face. “Oh, you mean like your ‘special room’?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Nesta snipes. “I told you I don’t use it for masturbating.”

He comes over and swings a heavy arm around her shoulder. “Babe, if I wanted to be alone I wouldn’t stay in the house. I’d run the trails in the woods behind the cabin.”

“Really?” Her brows furrow. She didn’t know that.

“Look, am I gonna have to return the pole or not?” Cassian says, exasperated.

Nesta stares at him closely, and upon finding no other catch to his gift, she flings her arms around his torso. “I love it,” she declares into his chest. “I love it so much.”

His body tenses in surprise at her uncharacteristic outburst, but then she feels his strong arms wrapping around her too. “In that case, have I earned myself a private show?” he teases.

“I’ll give you so many private shows,” Nesta promises. At least, once she completes her 2L and has the time to learn how to use the pole. “Emerie and Gwyn are going to be so jealous,” she hums pridefully.

Cassian chuckles deeply, and the sound rumbles through his chest where Nesta’s head rests.

They stay holding each other in silence like that for a while, mostly because it’s too early for unnecessary conversing. When Nesta finally speaks up, it’s to say, “Did you really have to call me over at eight a.m. for this, though?”

“It’s your birthday.” Cassian strokes the hair away from her neck. “Don’t even think about sleeping,” he warns. “We’re spending the whole day together. Your sisters mailed gifts, and Gwyn and Emerie are coming over at noon.”

That works for her.

***

The week after her birthday, Nesta drops her resignation letter onto Rhysand’s desk with a heavy smack.

He looks up from the envelope to her. “What’s this?”

“I’m quitting,” she announces without flourish. “Thank you for the experience. Let’s never do it again.”

“But—you got paid more than anyone else in an assistant position ever would. And you weren’t too bad at your job for a student. What went wrong?” He picks up the letter as if he can’t believe his eyes.

Nesta’s stare is a deadpan one. “Let me guess: you thought I would take your free paychecks, use my connections to move up your nepotism ladder, and end up working at Night Court comfortably for the rest of my life?”

Rhysand sits back in his chair and raises a brow at Nesta. “This is a family business,” he says smoothly. “I thought you wanted to be part of the family?”

How funny of him. “I’m good,” she answers simply.

“You came all the way here to tell me this?” Here being Velaris, which gleams through the wall of windows behind Rhysand’s desk.

“I’m not here to see you,” Nesta says, the implication being left in the air. “I’m just stopping by.” Giving a short nod, she turns on her heel to leave.

“If you ever go looking for another job,” Rhysand calls after her, “tell me if you need a recommendation. I can get you into any position at any business.”

She pauses at the door and looks over her shoulder at Rhysand. “I already have recommendations. And a job.” Her summer clerkship at the local family law firm won’t pay a third of what she made here at Night Court, but it’s good enough for now. Combined with what she’s saved up so far, she’ll get through her final year of law school without issue.

At Rhysand’s surprised face, she takes her cue to leave.

Nesta didn’t intend on going all the way to personally meet the CEO to quit, but since Cassian has been in Velaris the whole weekend for work, she thought it would be nice to surprise Cassian with a visit and cut her ties with Night Court Inc. at the same time.

Night Court’s headquarters are huge, with the skyscraper easily being one of the tallest buildings in the city. Nesta nearly gets lost trying to find her way out of Rhysand’s offices.

When she finally spots the steel doors of the elevator, they’re about to slide shut on her. “Hold the door!” she calls out, kicking into a jog. An arm pushes out at the last second to stop the doors from closing, and Nesta slides into the elevator with a sigh of relief. The doors close after her, and she turns to thank the only other person in the elevator.

The man is already looking at her in surprise—surprise which slowly turns into a shark-like smile. “Nesta?”

Nesta’s blood goes cold. He can’t be.

“Remember me?” He points at himself, still grinning. “Keith? Keith O’Connell?”

She tries to swallow but her mouth is dry. “Yeah, I remember,” she gets out.

She remembers everyone she knew from college. She especially remembers Tomas’s closest friends.

Nesta realizes Keith is saying something to her. “What floor?” he asks.

“Uh…” Where was she going again? She can’t remember. She spits out a random number and lets Keith press the button.

Nesta turns her gaze to the flashing numbers above the doors, watching them go down and down. Why are there so many damn floors?

“Didn’t think I’d see you around here,” he goes on, trying to get her to meet his eyes. “Let me guess, you’re an intern?”

Nesta keeps her eyes glued to the floor numbers. “No.”

“Ah,” he hums. “Don’t tell me you’re still chasing that lawyer dream?”

When Nesta doesn’t respond, she finds five fingers on her jaw turning her face toward Keith’s.

She jerks out of his grip, indignant rage bubbling to the surface—rage that is almost immediately suppressed by dread and fear. She’s so small right now; she can’t remember how to be big and loud.

Keith grins, taking a step closer. “What’s wrong? I just asked a question.”

Her back bumps into the wall. She barely feels it. She might as well be back in the living room of her college apartment, sitting on the arm of the couch while Tomas makes snide remarks about her to Keith O’Connell and his other friends. She’s not allowed to leave, because then she’ll be the one who can’t take a joke.

Keith frowns disappointedly at the ground, as if he found a shiny toy just to discover that it doesn’t do any tricks. Now he’s bored. “Damn,” he says. “When you’re not busy being Tom’s bitch, I guess you’re just a bitch.”

Nesta wishes she could be a bitch right now. She wishes she could fight back. “What are you doing, Keith?”

He tilts his head at her. “I’m catching up with you. You got a boyfriend?” His beady eyes slide down her form, leaving a slimy feeling in their wake.

When her lips stay pressed in a firm line, he grabs her arm and laughs. “Come on, why’re you being so weird?” He shakes her by the elbow. “I won’t tell anyone if you do have a boyfriend, promise.”

Nesta hears a ding, and the elevator doors slide open. She doesn’t know whether it’s her floor or Keith’s floor, but she doesn’t care—she’s the first to pull away from him and make an exit. “See you,” she blurts before speedwalking out of the elevator.

Why the fuck did she say “see you”? She doesn’t want to see him ever again. He doesn’t deserve to see her ever again.

Behind her, she hears Keith chuckle again. “I’ll tell Tomas you said hi,” he calls after her.

***

Cassian finds Nesta huddled under a desk.

He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he spotted her hurrying out of the elevator on the eighteenth floor of Night Court’s headquarters, but soon enough he realized that yes, that was Nesta’s coat and Nesta’s hair. She was supposed to be back home studying for her first two finals, but instead she was here looking like she was going to be sick.

He was about to follow her when his eyes slid to the man that had gotten off the elevator after her. He didn’t like how O’Connell was staring after Nesta.

“We’re old college friends,” O’Connell shrugged dismissively when Cassian approached him. “I was just saying hi.”

Nesta doesn’t have any friends from college.

Which leads Cassian to a dim, abandoned meeting room, one that would seem fully empty if it wasn't for the sound of strained breathing coming from under the only desk.

He approaches the desk slowly, his worn sneakers coming into Nesta’s line of sight. Pushing the rolling chair away, he crouches down to get a better look at her.

Tinny music comes out of her earbuds, loud enough to drown out any other sounds. She stares past Cassian like she can’t even see him, and the hollowed out look in her eyes terrifies him for a moment. When she blinks, tears spill over onto her cheeks.

“Nes?” Carefully, Cassian reaches out to touch one of her earbuds. After a second of hesitation, he pulls it out and lets it fall.

Nesta sniffles once, then finally turns her teary gaze to Cassian. Her eyes widen a little bit as she croaks, “How did you find me?”

“I followed you. What are you doing here, baby?”

“Um—” Her voice cracks, and she swipes away her tears with the sleeve of her coat. She clears her throat and says, “I came to surprise you.”

“And how’d you end up under here?” Cassian pulls Nesta’s hand away from her face before the scratchy wool can redden her face further. Makeup is smudged around her eyes, and he tries to soothe the sensitive skin there with his thumbs.

Nesta’s other earbud drops out of her ear while he fusses, leaving her with nothing to listen to.

Cassian is quietly, studiously tucking stray hairs back into Nesta’s bun when she confesses, “I was weak.”

“How?” Concern pinches Cassian’s brow. “By crying in front of me?”

“I was completely helpless,” she goes on, her voice numb. “And I didn’t know how not to be that way. I hated it, it’s so stupid.” She tears up again. “I’m not supposed to be that stupid.”

“Tell me what happened,” Cassian demands. He can’t pretend to be patient anymore.

Nesta presses her lips together and stares down at her shoes. Nothing Cassian can think of can prepare him for when she says, “I ran into a friend of my ex.”

So that’s who he is. A frightening calmness settles over Cassian. “O’Connell?” he asks, though he already knows.

Nesta looks up. “You know him?”

He tightens his jaw but nods. “Move over.” Ducking his head, Cassian crawls under the desk to join Nesta. He has to hunch over in half to fit, but Nesta doesn’t seem to mind.

He has to give it to her—it’s not a bad hiding spot.

“What did he say to you?” He tries to sound steady, undisturbed.

“He didn’t need to say anything,” Nesta answers. “I lost my spine with one look from him. He had me under his thumb.”

“I see.” Cassian has made peace with the fact that Tomas Mandray has long since moved away, that he’ll never be able to track the shithead down and make him suffer. What he didn’t know, however, is that Mandray left his friends behind.

“Were you hurt?” is his next question. “Did he touch you?” Cassian doesn’t know what he’ll do if Nesta says yes, but he has to ask anyway.

“I’m not hurt,” she assures him. But her hands rub over her upper arms like she can feel the ghost of a touch there.

“I see,” he repeats. He watches her for a bit longer before stating, “You’re not stupid.”

Nesta’s huff is amused. “Thank you.”

“And don’t spend too much time thinking about O’Connell,” he mutters, nudging her knee with his. “I’ll get rid of him for good.” That is a promise that Cassian is happy to keep.

Nesta looks alarmed. “Like…murder him?”

Cassian laughs. “No, not like that. But you’ll never see him again, so I hope you’ve said what you needed to say to him.”

Nesta thinks for a moment, then nods. “That sounds good. I don’t have anything to say to him.” She inhales a deep breath. “I think I feel better now.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Cassian holds out a hand to her. “You wanna get out of here?”

She takes his hand and he helps her out from under the desk.

Nesta apparently booked a hotel room in Velaris to surprise Cassian with, but they both agree on the way to the parking lot that they’ve had enough of the city. Cassian chooses to leave his truck behind for Rhys to take care of, and he offers to drive Nesta’s car while she rests.

The ride home is long and quiet.

Nesta sits in silence with her earbuds in, her head leaning against the car window and one of her hands in Cassian’s. He drives with his free hand, sneaking glances over at her every so often just to make sure she really is okay.

It enrages him that someone from Nesta’s past found their way into her place of work. What if he and O’Connell weren’t working in Velaris this weekend, and Nesta bumped into O’Connell in the middle of town instead? It could have tainted any sense of safety she has with the small city she calls home.

Cassian has no plans on telling her that O’Connell is the team leader for the Milan project, or that he rents a small place on the outskirts of their town. Because soon enough neither of those things will be true, and there’s no use in unnecessarily worrying her.

He absentmindedly rubs his thumb over the back of Nesta’s hand.

When they finally pull up to the cabin, Nesta picks her head up from the window to look around. Spotting the other black car parked in the driveway, she makes a sound of disappointment. “Az is home.”

“We can stay in the car if you like,” Cassian offers. He’s in no rush to go inside and face other people, either.

Nesta pulls her heels off, bending over to rub her stockinged feet. “Maybe just for a little while.”

Cassian unbuckles his seatbelt, gesturing for Nesta to put her feet in his lap.

She obliges, looking too tired to refuse him. Cassian runs his hands up her legs and under her skirt, finding the waistband of her sheer black tights and tugging.

“What are you doing?” She jerks under his hands, eyes wide. “The car’s too small for this.”

He narrows his gaze at her. “Chill, horndog. I’m just making you comfortable.” He pulls the tights the rest of the way down her legs and off, freeing her skin.

Nesta gives a little sigh of relief at the feeling of air on her bare skin. She rubs her hands over her thighs in wonder, drawing Cassian’s gaze.

He meets her eyes, and she slowly curls her legs off his lap, tucking them underneath herself instead.

Elated to have Nesta’s undivided attention after two hours of silence, he leans over and slips his hand around her jaw, pulling her in for a kiss.

Her inhale is soft, surprised, before she relaxes against his mouth. Cassian kisses her once, twice, hoping it’ll remind her that she’s safe at his side. That nothing can make her weak.

He’s slow to pull away, and he opens his eyes to find that Nesta’s are still closed, her lips still parted. He stifles a smile and whispers, “I think we should head inside.”

“Mm-hm,” she nods eagerly.

They exit the car, Cassian carrying Nesta’s shoes and tights in one hand and Nesta running over to him barefoot.

He leaves little pecks along her jaw and neck as they enter the cabin, taking extra time to find any moles or beauty marks. She’s about to turn in his arms to face him when they both take notice of Azriel sitting in the living room. Cardboard boxes surround him, and he’s filling them up with books.

Cassian drops Nesta’s heels and tights onto the floor, bringing Az’s attention to him.

“Hey, bro,” Cassian says warily. “What are you doing?”

“Moving out,” Az answers.

Nesta chokes on a laugh. When no one laughs with her, her face drops. “You’re serious?”

Cassian thinks the same thing.

“I’m going back to Velaris,” Az shrugs, dropping some trinkets into a box. “I’m ready to face Elain. I’m taking accountability.” He says it like it’s the simplest decision ever, like he’s talking about bringing an umbrella to a picnic.

“Are you sure about this?” Cassian asks. Just a while ago his brother was terrified at the idea of entering a ten mile radius of Velaris.

“I’m packing, aren’t I?” Az says dryly.

“You’re packing our things,” Cassian points out.

Nesta gasps when she notices. “Hey, those are my books!” She hurries over to snatch one out of Azriel’s hand.

Azriel snatches it back with a dark look. “What goes in the box, stays in the box.”

Cassian sputters in disbelief, looking around at the scene before him. “I mean—can we ask what brought this on?”

“Maybe I did some self-reflection. Or maybe I finally got sick of you and Nesta hooking up while I’m in the same room, like you were about to do now.” Az shrugs, pulling out a roll of packing tape and tearing off a strip with his teeth. “Don’t act like you’re going to miss me,” he continues as he tapes one of the boxes shut. “You two have been waiting for this day for months, and I’m finally granting your wishes.”

Cassian and Nesta share a look, and Cassian says hesitantly, “This isn’t… a breakdown or something, right?”

Azriel narrows his hazel eyes at Cassian.

“Okay, okay.” Cassian holds his hands up in defense. He pulls his hoodie over his head and off in one swift movement and goes over to the couch to help his brother pack. He still doesn’t know what brought on this sudden change of heart, but he knows Az won’t tell unless he wants to.

Nesta remains standing where she is, confounded, before dropping down next to an open box and rifling through it. “I want compensation for anything of mine you’re taking,” she demands, pulling out various paperbacks one by one.

“So like a dime for every three trash porns,” Cassian tells Az.

“I’m upcharging,” Nesta says. Her hand stops rummaging through the box, and she pulls out a framed photo instead of a book. She turns her steely eyes to Azriel. “You can’t have this one.”

It’s a candid picture of Cassian, Nesta, and Azriel on the ski lodge trip. Cassian remembers the moment it was taken with vividness, because it was one of the rare moments on that vacation where all three of them were smiling at the same time.

“Emerie took this,” Nesta continues, “and she’s my friend, so by extent it’s mine.”

Az smiles politely at her. “You’re right, you should keep it,” he says. “You’re too ugly in that photo for me to take it.”

Nesta sneers back, but gets up to reset the photo on the fireplace mantle.

A day or two later, Cassian notices that the ski lodge picture is gone, frame and all. He sighs to himself and hopes Nesta won’t notice.

***

a/n: it’s official less than five parts left!! cassian’s revenge scene is gonna be hotter than every smut scene combined

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99

#ncssianwrites #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au

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maximons · 3 years

Text

Without You

Summary: Everything seems to be going alright for Wanda Maximoff, but a mission gone horribly awry makes everything crash and burn.

Word Count: 3,101

Genre: Angst

Requested?: Yes

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, burns, scarring

A/N: Alright kids, you ready for angst time? My first full out angst fic, oh boy. This ones got no happy ending guys, so do with that what you will. This takes place during Civil War, so spoilers...? I guess? I’d say Happy Reading, but I don’t think you guys will be that happy by the end of this sooo good luck!

Lagos.

That’s the place where everything in Wanda’s life fell apart. Or at least fell apart even further than it had before.

Some of the team were out on a mission. You guys finally managed to track down Rumlow and his gang after about a year of searching. Everything was going fairly well, yes there was some collateral damage, and things didn’t exactly go according to plan, but overall, it looked like you guys would come out of this with a win.

And then, it happened.

Wanda and you had begun to jog up to Steve’s location, where you saw him stare Rumlow down. Something in you just told you that this wasn’t going to go well. You looked at the scene in front of you, and then your gaze fell onto the building behind it. It was too close for comfort.

“Babe, I’m gonna go check that building.” You turned to your girlfriend. “Looks like there could be a lot of people in there, I’m gonna try to get them out.” She looked at you, and then to the building briefly. Part of her wanted to question why when the fight was happening out here, but she knew in your line of work things can be unpredictable.

She nodded. “Okay, be safe.” You nodded back with a small smile, and pecked her on the cheek.

“Always am.” With that, you ran off.

It was only about two or three minutes after you ran in when things went to hell.

Rumlow pulled a pin on his vest, and Wanda reacted as quickly as she could, capturing him mid explosion in her magic. She lifted him up, trying to get him as far away from the people below as possible, but she couldn’t hold it anymore. The explosion went off.

Blowing a huge hole into that building.

Wanda stood there, shocked for a moment over what just happened. Her hand came and slowly covered her mouth, mind going over all the damage she just caused. She vaguely heard Steve calling for fire and rescue, and then it hit her.

You were in there.

“Y/n...” She whispered, still in a state of shock, but she quickly snapped out of it and sprang into action. “Y/n!” She heard Steve yell for her to wait, but she didn’t care. She took off, flying up and landed in one of the building’s destroyed floors.

She did her best to ignore the carnage around her, carnage she caused. She pushed down the bile that was rising in her throat, and continued her search for you.

And then she found you.

You were a super soldier, so luckily you didn’t die from the blast, she could still feel your pulse. But you didn’t look good.

You were lying on the charred floor, unconscious. Half of your suit was burned off, leaving nasty burns all on your arm and torso, some even creeping up your neck and face. Blood also dripped down from an open wound on your temple.

Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care about your appearance, though. You were still alive, and that’s the main thing she cared about right now.

“Don’t worry.” She sobbed out, hand gently caressing your unburned cheek. “You’re okay...you’re gonna be okay...” She tore her gaze away from you for a minute, and looked around. Tears falling at the sight of multiple bodies, people who weren’t as lucky as you.

People who were dead because of her.

“...I’m so sorry...”

The next week was chaos.

You were brought to the compound’s medical facility immediately, doctors working fast to try and save your life. They managed to stabilize you, now it was just a waiting game as to when you would wake up. Wanda would visit you everyday, barely being able to leave your side. Steve managed to convince her that she needed to rest, saying that you wouldn’t want to see her neglecting her needs. She hesitantly complied, and finally went to her room to sleep for the night.

The next morning, the news started reporting the incident.

And of course they blamed her.

Logically, Wanda knew this wasn’t entirely her fault. Rumlow was the one who turned himself into a bomb. She was just trying to save the lives below. That thought brought her little comfort though.

She was still responsible for the lives lost in that building. She was still responsible for you, the love of her life, being severely injured and in a coma.

Maybe they were right.

Steve didn’t let her wallow in that thought for too long though, because he shut the TV off. He sat down and gave her one of his hope speeches, and she appreciated the effort, but she didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s my fault.” She whispered. “All of those people, dead because of me...and Y/n...” She trailed off, tears forming in her eyes. Steve placed a hand on her leg, trying to comfort her.

“You know...she doesn’t blame you, I know she doesn’t.”

“Maybe she should...they all should.”

Steve couldn’t get anything else out, as Vision phased in the room and told them of the arrival of Secretary Ross.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, he had told them about the Sokovia Accords. Wanda hated the idea, forcing heroes to register with the government, essentially making them puppets for them. She knew you would hate it too, you never were one to trust the government.

“Look, we understand where you’re coming from, but if it weren’t for us, there’d be a lot more blood spilled.” Sam argued.

“Tell that to the innocent civilians in that Lagos hospital building.” Ross argued back. “Oh wait, you can’t.”

“If it weren’t for Wanda, hundreds of people in the streets below would have been killed.” Steve cut in. “If it weren’t for Y/n, hundreds of more people would have been in that building.”

“And look where that landed her.”

Wanda had enough. She shot up from her chair, and stormed out of the room.

She went straight to your hospital room, your still unconscious body covered in bandages. She pulled up a chair beside your bed, hand going to grip yours. She tried to speak, but couldn’t bring herself to form the words. So she just rested her head on your joined hands and cried.

The next few weeks saw the Avengers falling apart, divided over the accords. Wanda was especially disappointed in Natasha’s decision, given that you two were best friends.

Wanda hasn’t left the compound. Most of her time was spent visiting you and sleeping as best she could. Your burns had begun healing, but barely. They still left pretty nasty scars. Your breathing had improved, which satisfied the doctors. They had said you could wake up any moment now, Wanda just hoped it was soon.

The next day, Wanda walked into the kitchen to find Vision cooking. She found that odd, since she knew he didn’t eat, but he explained that he was making it for her. You used to cook for her a lot, and after a few disasters, you finally got the recipe down. Vision’s was no where near as good as yours, but she appreciates the effort.

After a conversation about their powers and their fear of them, Wanda volunteered to go to the store to pick up some paprika that would greatly help the dish. Vision stopped her.

“Vision...are you not letting me leave?”

“It’s a matter of safety.”

“I can handle myself.”

Vision stopped her again. “Not yours. Mr. Stark would like to avoid the possibility of another public incident.”

Wanda looked at the synthezoid in disbelief. “I’m not an out of control time bomb. It was an accident.”

“I know. I do, but...you powers are very unpredictable. You are also...vulnerable. My scanners have indicated you are, how you say, ‘on edge’. You have been ever since Miss L/n was admitted in the medical wing.”

Wanda’s gaze turned into a harsh glare. “I know that human emotion is a foreign concept to you Vision, but trust me, if your girlfriend was ever put in a coma because of you...being ‘on edge’ is the least you would be.”

Without waiting for a response, Wanda turned around and stormed off. She headed to the one place that her feet often dragged her to the last weeks. Your bedside.

She sat and took a hold of your hand. She stared at you for a moment before she spoke. “Hey, baby. Things have been...hard without you to say the least. Not that this wouldn’t be hard anyway, but everything is falling apart. These stupid accords are ruining everything. Tony has become a government pet, Nat joining him, Steve is off doing who knows what, and now...I’m locked in.” She paused. “You know, as much as I wish more than anything that you were awake and by my side right now...part of me is glad that you wouldn’t have to see your family fall apart like this. It’d break your heart...” She stayed for a few more moments, staring at your face and taking in your features once again. She then leaned down to kiss your hand. “I love you.” With that, she left.

Later that night, Wanda was back in the main room of the compound. You still haven’t woken up, she just learned she was essentially on house arrest, so she was trying to find ways to find ways to distract herself. She was reading a book, when she heard a loud explosion go off outside. She walked over to the window to take a look, Vision joining her a few moments later.

“What is it?”

“Stay here please.”

Wanda was left alone for a moment, before she felt a presence behind her. She quickly grabbed hold of the knife on the table, and flinging it towards the new presence. She halted it when she saw who it was.

Clint.

The next few minutes passed by like a blur. Clint was convincing her to come help Steve, Vision came back in but was trapped, Wanda hesitated and Clint gave her one of those hope speeches. She was about to decline, before he said one last thing.

“You know, if Y/n was awake...I know she’d side with Steve, and she’d only hope you’d do the same.”

Was it manipulative? Possibly, but he was also right. You would have sided with Steve, no question. Doing what you could to help. She thought on it for a few more moments, before she nodded. They were about to leave before Vision broke free. The two men fought, and before she knew it, she was sending the synthezoid several floors down and into the ground.

She went to her room, quickly packing her suit and anything else she thought she would need. She went back out to meet Clint, about to leave, but she stopped.

“Wait! I gotta see Y/n first.”

Clint sighed, but knew he couldn’t deny her of this. “Alright, make it quick.”

She booked it to your hospital room. You were lying there, same as you have been for a while. She quickly surged forward grabbed your hand, not bothering to sit. She knew they didn’t have time.

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna go out for a bit, okay? I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but...I’m going to do what’s right. I’m going to fight. I finally ‘got off my ass’ as you would say.” She chuckled, but it held no real joy behind it. “I just hope you’d be proud of me...and I just hope that I can come back to see you-”

Wanda cut herself off when she felt you begin to move. All of a sudden your face shifted, and you began to turn your head.

“Y/n?...”

You began to open your eyes slowly, head slowly lifting off your pillow. Your eyes looked around, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. Before you could even look at Wanda though, you began coughing.

Wanda rushed to poor you a glass of water, knowing your mouth would be dry from not using it for a while. She handed it to you, quickly, and you slowly raised your hand to take it. As you began to drink, Wanda couldn’t help but smile. You were finally awake. She was beyond relieved. She was put in a rough spot now, she knew she had to meet Clint so they could go, but...you were finally awake. She couldn’t leave you.

“Wanda, we gotta go!” She heard Clint yell, and without tearing her eyes away from you, she yelled back.

“In a minute! Y/n just woke up!”

She didn’t hear a response from the man, but she heard footsteps quickly making its way towards your room.

You finished drinking your water and placed the cup on the bedside table. You began to try to sit up, but Wanda rushed to your side to help.

“Here you go, easy.”

When you fully sat up, you took in the appearance of the woman next to you. You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She breathed out. You looked her in the eyes, smile still on both your faces. But, Wanda’s smile dropped instantly at the next words that came out of your mouth.

“Sorry, hi, I’m Y/n. You probably already knew that though.” You chuckled nervously. “Are you one of the nurses?”

Wanda froze. No. This couldn’t be happening. The doctors told her that Amnesia was a possibility since you hit your head on impact from the blast, but it never seemed like a real threat. She stared at you, jaw slacked for a few more moments.

“Um, hello?...Oh! Are you my doctor? Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

Wanda snapped out of it when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to see it was Clint. You spoke up again before she could say anything though.

“Oh, hey, are you a nurse? Or doctor?”

Realization filled Clint’s face, but he held it together. He simply shook his head.

“Oh...so, is someone supposed to help me or...?” You trailed off.

Clint looked to Wanda, who was still in shock, tears beginning to form in her eyes. He knew he had to take over, get them out as soon as possible. “Sorry, Y/n. We’ll get your nurse to come and check on you. Glad to see you’re awake.” Before you could respond, he quickly rushed out of the room, pulling Wanda with him.

Wanda finally let herself break down, and cried in the van. She barely had time to process everything before they picked up a man name Scott and flew to the airport to meet Steve.

Steve broke down the plan and the team went separate ways to suit up and get in position. Except Wanda. Steve was about to go get himself ready, but paused when he saw the witch frozen in place.

“Wanda? You okay?” Wanda simply shook her head and looked up at him, he could see the tears in her eyes. “What happened?”

“Y/n woke up.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in shock. “She did? That’s great-” He was cut off when Wanda let out a sob. He then put two and two together, something was wrong. “...What was it?”

“She...doesn’t remember anything...doesn’t remember me...”

Steve sighed. He was saddened by the news as well, you and him were very close, both being super soldiers and all. He couldn’t even imagine what Wanda was going through in this moment though, so he put on a brave face. He went over to the witch and wrapped an arm around her. “Y/n is strong...when this is over, we’ll go see her and start-” Steve was cut off again when Wanda shook her head.

“Steve...you and I both know this isn’t gonna end with us just being able to go back...” She looked up at him. He was about to speak up again, when he heard Sam in his ear.

“Cap, Tony and Rhodey are flying in now. You good to go?”

Steve looked to Wanda, knowing she heard him too since they all had coms. She nodded. “On my way.” He turned to leave, before giving Wanda one last look. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

It wasn’t.

The fight at the airport was beyond tiresome, and they lost. Steve and Bucky got away to handle the other Winter Soldiers, but the rest of the team was captured.

So now here she was, sitting in a cell in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean...with a straight jacket and shock collar on. Wanda couldn’t even be upset about it. She was numb. She’s already lost everything she possibly could. Her parents, her brother, her country, and now...you. She couldn’t bring herself to care whether or not she wasted away in this cell. Maybe she deserved to.

But of course, she couldn’t even have that for long, as Steve broke them out a few days later.

Up on the quinjet with Steve and the rest of the team, she sat alone, staring out the window watching the dark clouds pass by. After a few moments, she felt a presence next to her. She looked over to see who it was. Natasha.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda asked, looking back out the window.

“It’s a long story.” She answered. “Steve told me what happened, I...I’m not even sure what to say. I am so sorry Wanda.” Wanda merely nodded, not trusting her voice right now. Natasha took a deep breath and continued. “Y’know...I can pull some strings, the ones I have left anyway. Get Y/n relocated to be with us. I know she doesn’t remember anything right now, but-”

“No.” Wanda cut her off, surprising the redhead.

“Wha...what do you mean ‘no’?”

Wanda had thought about it, she’s thought about it the entire time she was in the Raft. She would love nothing more than to see you again, to hold you and help you on your recovery, but...she couldn’t. She was a wanted fugitive now, and you were only in this predicament because of her...she had to be selfless here. She couldn’t bring you into this life, not when you were missing chunks of your own.

“I mean no.” She said, looking up into Natasha’s eyes, tears pooling in her own. “She’s better off.”

And with that, Wanda got up, walking towards the back of the jet to be alone. She took a deep breath, and prepared herself. Preparing herself for a new life as a fugitive on the run. And most importantly...

Preparing for a life without you.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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authoressofdarkness · 3 years

Note

I saw that you're taking prompts, from the dialogue list. Can I get number 20? “I’ve never had someone taking care of me before.” for starker obviously. I'm excited, I love reading your works. Thank you in advance!

Hi anon! That means so much to me and I’m v glad to be taking this as my first prompt. Thank you 💙

I kinda want to try some new things with some of these prompts, so I’m gonna go at this with omega Tony and alpha Peter and see where it goes. I hope that’s okay with you anon and that everyone likes it 😘

Same age college AU, omegaverse, alpha Peter Parker, omega Tony Stark, some angst and some fluff at the end.

—

It’s a well known fact that Tony Stark has a shitty family.

Well, at least to anyone who knows him, it is. They know how he’ll do anything to not be at home when his father is around, to get out of the endless pressures of social events and promotional things and questions of mating and management and all of the things that he hated about being born an omega and being attached to the last name Stark to top it all off—

For years, it was just him. Some flings, mainly to piss his father off, but he never had his attention for longer than the time it took to scold him or order him around, and his mother was never much help, either. He had precious few friends growing up, never really made any real ones until college when he met Rhodey and Pepper — an alpha and a beta respectively that helped him manage things there and that were the first people to truly understand the depths of struggles he had going on at home.

And they were great friends, still are, but there was never anything more there between them. They helped him float through the first year of school, and then—

And then came Peter Parker.

Tony doesn’t hate all alphas on principle, although he is often rather tempted to try to, what with how they were shoved in his face most of his life. They were great for a good fling but most of them were meatheads. As horny as Tony was, he couldn’t allow just anyone to be close to him, nothing too get to serious, because he’s got a lot of responsibility coming down to him and he needs the right partner — alpha or otherwise — to be willing to deal with that. Not that he’s particularly interested in mating right now but he also isn’t going to allow someone close enough to potentially mark him knowing the repercussions of that.

He’s the heir to Stark Industries, sure, but he’s still an omega. An alpha will have significant legal power over him once they’re mated. And he wants to be the one to run SI, to take on his legacy, to build, to create, and to run his business, and he’s not going to let anyone stop him, even if that means flings forever.

(Not that that’s legally going to fly because he can’t take over until he’s considered qualified which implies a certain amount of stability that translates into having an alpha that’s more than just a fuck buddy but—)

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters after he meets Peter.

Peter is a year younger than him in school, technically, but biologically they’re the same age. Peter just started a bit later than most — and for good reasons, as Tony comes to find out.

He’s in one of Tony’s engineering classes and his organic chemistry class and the omega would be lying if he said he wasn’t immediately taken with him.

He can’t help it. Peter is cute, with his overgrown curls and slim form and silky skin and shy little smile and—

The other man is all alpha, there’s no doubt about it. He exudes it without even trying, but there’s a shyness to him, too. He’s not a meathead; he’s a sweetheart. From day one he’s respectful of Tony in class, kind when he sees him around campus, and that makes them the perfect lab partners in chemistry, and after knowing that, it’s just the natural choice for them to partner for the project in engineering and then—

Then things spiral, and Tony doesn’t even care.

He’s seeking the alpha’s attention, and Peter, the innocent, shy thing he is, is happy to give, to dote on Tony in ways that he would resist if they were coming from anyone else.

They’re not even fucking, but it’s intimate, so intimate that he can’t even explain it, and he loves it, scarily so. It both soothes and sets all his instincts on edge at the same time.

By mid semester they both have keys to come and go freely from each other’s rooms. It’s more common to see them together than it is to ever spot one of them out alone. The whole school probably thinks they’re a couple, and even though they’ve never made it official — and he’s never allowed himself to even come close to considering it before — Tony can’t bring himself to mind.

As midterms approach, though, Tony locks himself in to focus on his work. He doesn’t mean to, really; it’s just that hours studying slip into full nights and then he hasn’t eaten and he hasn’t left the room, even missing one of his classes because he doesn’t realize the time.

Peter hasn’t come by in days and except for the occasional check in text, Tony hasn’t heard from him, either. But they’re both busy with midterms so he really isn’t surprised. In fact he barely has time to eat, let alone check his phone, so even if he was texting him regularly Tony probably wouldn’t be answering.

Except mid terms or no, of course Peter notices when Tony misses class. And when his texts go unanswered by the absorbed omega, he doesn’t hesitate to show up and let himself in.

Tony doesn’t even realize anyone is there until he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps so hard he nearly knocks the chair back, and when he turns around he sees Peter, stepping back and holding his hands up in the universal “I surrender” gesture, clearly not having meant to startle him.

“I’m sorry, I knocked but you didn’t answer so I let myself in. I just— you weren’t in class, and I was worried… are you okay? When was the last time you ate?” It takes all of two seconds for Peter’s sheepishness to melt into concern, and he steps forward again, closing the distance between them to tilt Tony’s chin up, looking at the shadow stretching across his jaw where he hasn’t shaved in a few days. “You’ve lost weight,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over Tony’s cheekbone tenderly — which, yeah, is definitely more prominent than it was at the beginning of the week.

Tony’s eyes flutter and he leans into the touch for a moment before refocusing and shaking it off. “I’m fine. This is normal, Peter. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Peter raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know what day it is?”

“It’s Saturday—“

“It’s Monday, Tony. 1pm on Monday, at that. You missed engineering this morning and you haven’t answered my texts all weekend.” Surprise flits across Tony’s face at that, because — yeah, last time he checked it was Saturday, and he had no new texts from Peter, so— “When was the last time you ate?” Peter continues to prod, voice gentle but insistent.

Both aspects only serve to spark irritation in him, though. Tony bats Peter’s hand away from his face, frowning. He doesn’t need to be treated with kid gloves. “I ate a little while ago. I’m fine.”

“You don’t even know what day it is—“

“It all kind of blurs together when you’re not doing anything besides working, okay—“

“Two days is a lot of blur, Tony—“

“And just because I need a shave doesn’t mean I haven’t left my desk or that this isn’t totally normal for midterms—“

“You’re the one saying you haven’t left your desk, not me—“

“That’s not what I meant! I’m just saying—“

“I’m just saying you need to take a short break, it’s not that big of a deal—“

“I don’t need a break, I know my limits—“

“Tony, I really don’t think—“

“Jesus fucking— You’re not my alpha, Parker, would you fuck off?”

The words come out before he can stop them, and he flinched himself at the hurt on Peter’s face, the way the alpha physically recoils, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not— god, I know that, okay? I’m just trying to help you, Tony. Please, this isn’t sustainable. You need to eat. Just— let me find you something, and then I’ll leave, okay?”

Leave? No, he doesn’t want him to leave. But the only thing that comes out is a quiet “whatever,” and he watches Peter escape to the kitchen with a ball of guilt growing in his chest.

Peter is just trying to help. He likes Peter and he doesn’t want him to leave, he just— he panics, and then he snaps.

Because what if Peter wants more? What if he really likes him? And Tony is a fuck up that does shit like this when he feels emotions and has so much baggage attached to being with him and—

And Peter knows that, at least some of it. It’s been a few months of seeing each other nearly every day, now, and his family situation was never a secret.

So why is he still here? Oh god, did Tony just ruin it?

The thought, for reasons that he’s refusing to immediately think about, is almost too much to bear. He stands up, fumbling his way out of the chair and into the kitchen.

The smell hits him almost as soon as he enters, and he sucks in a deep breath. His traitorous stomach growls, loud and demanding.

Soup bubbles on the stove as Peter works at the counter, chopping up some fruits and vegetables. He’s already managed to put a few little storage containers of food together for him, and something in Tony’s gut feels warm at the sight. But it also drops — preparing premade meals most certainly means that Peter isn’t intending to come back.

He looks up when Tony enters, expression wary. “The soup was the quickest thing you had, and since I had to be here for as long as it takes to boil anyway I thought I would just—“

“Peter.” His own voice sounds remarkable calm for how shaky he suddenly feels, lurching towards the alpha at the countertop. “It’s okay. I… thank you, for this. I’m sorry.”

Peter looks taken aback by the apology. “Tony, you don’t have to apologize. You’re right; I’m not your alpha and it’s not my place to give you orders. I just… I care about you, okay? I just want to help. I know you don’t think about me that way, and I’m sorry I overstepped, but—“

“You’re wrong.”

“What?” The words draw Peter up short.

Tony takes a breath, looking down. He focuses on the alpha’s hands, watching him chop instead of looking at his face. It’s easier. “You’re wrong. It’s not that I don’t think of you that way. The problem is… that I do. And I… I’m not used to this. I’ve never had someone take care of me before. Not really, not in any way that mattered. And what I feel for you… it scares me.” He takes a little breath again, looking down at his own hands. “I want you to be my alpha, Peter. But I’m not really a good omega, and I just have so much shit that comes along with being with me. The thought of asking you to do that… what that could do to us… I just don’t think I could handle that.”

He hears the knife ting against the countertop as Peter sets it down, and the pitter patter of footsteps as the alpha crosses the room. He’s suddenly being drawn into a pair of lanky but surprisingly strong arms, surrounded by the musky, relaxing scent of alpha, and he practically melts into it, nestling his nose into the spot between the collar of Peter’s sweatshirt and his throat almost automatically.

Peter’s hand running up and down his back is soothing, relaxing him the rest of the way, and the press of the alpha’s chin against his head is just the perfect weight to be comfortable, reassuring.

“Tony… I’m not an idiot,” he says gently. “I know who you are. What you’ve done, where you came from, what’s expected of you — and yeah, I’m sure there’s more that you haven’t told me and that’s not public, but— I get why this is a struggle for you, and why you feel the need to put so much pressure on yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you for that and it is most definitely not your own fault that you’re not used to being taken care of. And you’ve no idea how badly or how long I’ve wanted to be your alpha.” He pulls back a little to look down at him, fingers scratching Tony’s scalp gently as he works his fingers through his hair. “But that doesn’t mean that this kind of behavior — towards yourself or others — is good or acceptable. It’s okay to let me take care of you — at least in small ways. I know you’re scared of losing your independence, but that’s not what I want for you, either. I just want to help.”

“Help,” Tony echoes, eyes drifting to the pan on the stove and then back to Peter. “I… I think I’d like that.” He bites his lip, looking up at him. They’re about the same size and height, but this close, wrapped in the alpha’s arms and scent, with his steady gaze on him, he can’t help but feel small by comparison. “You really want to be my alpha?”

“Only if you want me to be, but…” Peter looks down at him and cracks his shy little smile. “I’d like to try, if you’d let me.”

“I’d like that,” Tony admits. He shifts to press up against him, putting a hand on his chest. “I’d also really like it if you’d kiss me.”

Peter looks a little surprised, but not unpleasantly. Still, he shakes his head, giving him a little push back. “Tony, you didn’t even know what day it was. God knows when the last time you brushed your teeth is. No offense, but… ew.”

Tony just laughs a little, unable to help himself. “If I brush my teeth…?”

“Maybe. If you eat your food as well.” Peter moves back to the counter, finishing up the container he was working on. “We can’t be doing anything that’s going to burn you extra calories when you don’t have enough to begin with, hm?”

Tony finds himself grinning. “That’s an argument I can get behind. Literally and metaphorically.”

Peter flashes a grin in return, voice back to that gentle but insistent tone that he knows so well when he says, “Go, Tony.”

And for once, Tony is all too happy to obey.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #prompting #my prompts #my writing #kris talks #kris answers #omega tony stark #alpha peter parker #starker omegaverse #fluff

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

Text

guitar lesson (f.w.)

prompt: the band that the weasley siblings had formed brought new excitement to hogwarts. new music, new

pairing: guitarist!fred weasley x fem! reader

warnings: language, allusions to sex (for like one second)

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is literally just pure fluff. pure cute musical fluff.

George groaned and halted his drumming, “Bloody hell, Ronald, it’s not that hard to get the chord progression right after the third time drilling the song!” he cried out before tucking a drumstick behind his ear. “We go from G to B minor to E minor back to B minor. What is so hard about that?” he scolds his brother who just rolls his eyes. “Do we want to get this right or not?” George looks to the rest of the band comprised of his other siblings.

Ron just retorted simply, “It’s the first time we’ve ran this song in weeks, George. Everyone is rusty. Just give it a rest. We’ll get it right next go. Besides, aren’t we due for a five?” he looks to his sister who gives him eager eyes and a nod, signaling they were in desperate need of a break.

George scoffs at his younger brother and says, “No, you’ll get it right the next go. Which starts now. Ginny, from the chorus. Fred, keep the chords crunchy, it sounds better that way. Ron, don’t fuck it up. Ready?” George directs the band as they all sigh.

They had only been in band practice for an hour and a half and George was already making it a living hell. Sure, it was his idea to form a band and it seemed like a great idea. It was a way to spend more time together, to make music, to meet new people, and blow off some steam. If anything, Fred was the first one to jump on the offer. He knew that it would be a way for his family to bond, but also a way for him to show off his guitar skills that he had been honing for the past few years. Fred had once said, “Ladies love musicians. Especially the guitarists.”

But now it seemed like the band, which once was a low-key, stress free environment has changed wildly. Almost overnight things took a rapid 360. George had managed to book a gig for their band, The Burrow Bangers, at Three Broomsticks for the next weekend. George had convinced Madam Rosmerta to let them have the whole building for the evening for the gig if they promised to bring in the people. Which would not be a problem. Students were itching to see the band of siblings play. But this meant high stakes for the Weasleys. A real gig, paying them real money, to play real music. All they had ever done before was fuck around and play random music that they thought was funny. But this? This was all very new and very different than what they were used to.

With a few strikes of his drumsticks, George yelled out, “A 1, 2, 3, 4!” And the band swelled with music, George keeping rhythm on the drum kit, Fred wailing on his guitar, Ron strumming on the bass, and Ginny belting into the mic.

“She’s a Killer Queen, gunpowder, gelatine, Dynamite with a laser beam. Guaranteed to blow your mind; anytime...” Ginny belted into the mic, her alto voice resonating throughout the room of requirement as Ron and Fred stared at each other, wondering when they would get a break. Fred looked concerned at Ginny who's voice was obviously getting tired from belting for an hour and a half with no water or bathroom break.

Fred drops his guitar and speaks, “Hold on, hold on!” The band fades slowly before George throws up his hands in protest, asking why they stopped. “Do you not hear Ginny’s voice? She’s tired. We’re all tired, Georgie. We’ve been working non-stop for next week’s gig. I don’t think a ten minute break is gonna kill us,” he protests.

George rolls his eyes, “None of you are taking this seriously. We are getting paid for this. People are coming to watch us. Don’t you wanna be decent?” George rises from his seat, searching the eyes of his siblings for some agreement.

Instead, he’s met with concerned eyes and tired expressions. Ginny looked absolutely exhausted, Fred looked exasperated, and Ron was flat out fed up. But all were equally concerned as to why their brother was so gassed up over this gig. George sighs, “I-” Fred gives him a sympathetic smile. “Of course, we wanna be good, Georgie. But we need to balance things out. Let’s all take a break for a while. Reconvene tonight after some much needed rest and we’ll talk details of rehearsals then. Good?”

Ron eagerly nods his head before slipping the bass off from around his body. Ginny turns off the mic and starts out with Ron, talks of what was for dinner in the Great Hall. Fred approaches his twin and places a hand on his shoulder. “What’s bugging you?” he asks, knowing that this behavior wasn’t typical for George. It wasn’t like George to get serious all of a sudden and push everyone to work without a break. Something was up and Fred could read it all over his brother’s face.

Defeated, George sighs. “I don’t know, Fred. I guess I’m getting myself all worked up because I invited Angelina to the show and I wanted to ask to be my girlfriend and I guess I just want things to be perfect for her in a way.” Fred gives his brother a knowing look, wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh, shut it, you dickhead,” George laughs, pushing his brother’s shoulder. “You’d do the same if you fancied someone,” he teases Fred as his twin shrugs. “Freddie...you don’t mean to tell me no girl has walked up to you and has told you how hot it was that you played lead guitar in Hogwarts’ premiere band?” he teases.

Fred laughs, “Can’t say anyone has...yet.”

This makes George laugh and shake his brother’s shoulders. “That’s the spirit,” George slings his arm over Fred’s shoulder. The two twins carry back their band equipment as they make their way to the Gryffindor common room. “Seriously, Freddie, I bet I can set you up with one of Angie’s friends. I’ll tell Angie to bring her to the show and she can see just how sexy you look fingering those strings,” George alludes as Fred chuckles.

“Nah, mate, I don’t wanna just have a set up of a date. I want to naturally meet a girl, you know?” Fred tells his twin as George rolls his eyes. Fred was always a hopeless romantic deep down. Although he had some flings in the past and had his fun with shagging a few girls casually here and there, Fred was looking for something more serious now. Someone he could connect with. “I’m not expecting for the perfect girl to be right around the corner, Georgie, but I’m not expecting her to be a-”

Fred stops mid sentence as he feels his body collide with another body as they walk around the corner of the hallway, making Fred and the person he had bumped into stumble back a bit. “Godric, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t pay attention to where I was going,” Fred looks around at the sheet music that was now cast about the floor. “Did I make you drop anything?” Fred asks, now looking up at a pair of eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

There you stood, a little flustered, in a hurry on your way to the library. You were late for a study group with some of your friends from your Charms class and it would be your third time late this week. If you were late again, they would surely give you shit for it. But as you took in who was causing you to run late, you suddenly didn’t mind. “Uh,” you gulp, “I’m alright, don’t worry. I should have watched where I was going. Now I’ve made quite the mess, haven’t I?” you lightly laugh as you crouch down to help him pick up the miscellaneous pieces of sheet music.

Fred joins you on the floor, picking up the scattered sheets. “It’s equally our mess,” Fred gives you a soft smile as you blush lightly.

Fred looks up at George who wiggles his brows as if to say Oh La-La! before he winks at his brother. “Oh, hey (Y/N),” George speaks before continuing to walk down the hallway, giving his dear twin some privacy. Fred shoot his brother a look to say, Mate, what the fuck?

“Hey, Georgie,” you laugh. The two of you continue to pick up the pieces of parchment as you inspect the scribbling on them to be the treble clef. “You’re a musician?” you ask him, referring to the sheets. Fred nods. “What instrument?”

“Guitar,” Fred beams as you widen your eyes and nod. “I’m actually in a band with George and my other siblings,” he tells you. “I didn’t know you were friends with George.”

You hand him a small pile of sheet music before you both rise to your feet. “Yeah, George and I have been friends for a little while. I helped tutor him in Divinations class,” you tell Fred who nods. Fred mentally yells that he wishes George would have told him that he was friends with an absolute stunner of a girl. “I didn’t know that you and George were in a band. That’s really cool,” you tell Fred with a smile.

As you stand before Fred Weasley, you hope he doesn’t know how flustered you were. You had always seen him in the halls with George and admired how charming and handsome he was from a far, but never said anything to him. You could have easily told George that you had a thing for his twin, but you were far too nervous to act on your little crush. You clutched your textbooks closer to your chest as Fred fixed the strap of his guitar on his chest, muscles flexing underneath his shirt as your eyes darting to watch them tug against the thin shirt material.

Fred spoke, “We started the band a couple of months ago. So it’s a pretty recent development.”

You nod your head and awkwardly stand before him before realizing that you were just staring at Fred’s face, admiring how his lips curled into a little smirk when he looked at you. Clearing your throat, you breathe, “Wicked.” Fred chuckles. “I’ve always been fascinated by musicians. I wanted to teach myself how to play guitar, but I’ve never gotten around to it,” you word vomit, instantly regretting the words coming out of your mouth. Damn it, (Y/N), you might as well just tell him your life story, you think to yourself.

With a cheeky smile, you watch Fred’s face light up. “I could teach you,” he suggest as your eyes widen. Fred immediately back pedals. “If you want! I mean, Godric knows that you are probably very busy, but if you ever wanted an instructor, I wouldn’t mind giving you lessons,” he retorts as you can’t help but have a lazy smile appear on your lips. Fred’s heart skips another beat as he gulps. “That’s only if you’d like me to teach you, (Y/N).”

The way he spoke your name made your stomach erupt with butterflies. His voice was like honey as words parted from his lips, the sweetest sounds you have ever heard. You watched his eyes as they looked into yours, monitoring how you reacted to his proposal.

Guitar lessons with Fred Weasley? You would have to be mental if you said no. With a meek smile and you reply, “You really don’t have to, Fred.”

“I want to,” he jumps before clearing his throat, realizing how quickly he answered, making you giggle as Fred blushes a deep red that matched his hair. “I would like to teach you, (Y/N).”

With a nod, you say, “I’d like you to teach me.”

Fred smiles widely. “Wicked,” he breathes out as you look away from his gaze to hide your rosy cheeks. “Just one catch,” he smirks as you furrow your brows. “You have to come to our show next week. At Three Broomsticks. And bring friends.”

Extending your hand, you tease him, “You’ve got a deal.” Fred shakes your hand firmly as you laugh. “I’ll see you around, Fred.”

You start down the opposite direction before Fred calls out. “First lesson is on Thursday! 4pm sharp,” Fred says as you flip around to look at him. “Tardiness is not tolerated,” he winks at you as you roll your eyes before walking away to the library.

As you walked down the corridors, you could help but smile to yourself. Your cheeks tingled from your large grin as you toyed with the edges of your books. The thought of Fred Weasley’s hands guiding yours as he taught you how to play guitar made your heart giddy. You nibbled on your bottom lip at the thought that danced around your head. Suddenly, you didn’t care how late you were to this study group.

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

Thursday rolled around slowly, but surely and Fred was checking himself out in the mirror, combing his fingers through his red hair, brushing the pieces out of his face. He nervously looked at himself in the mirror. Should he have shaved? Was he wearing too much cologne? Should he brush his teeth for a third time?

He frantically ran around his dormitory room, thinking he should change his shirt again. Maybe you liked the color green better than blue. As if the color of his shirt would determine the outcome of this lesson/date. Fred didn’t even know if he could count this as a date.

George tapped out rhythms on his bed frame, watching Fred change his shirt for the fourth time as he shook his head. “Freddie, mate, are you really sweating that much?” he laughed.

Fred shot his twin a dirty look. “No,” he spat. “I just...I like the green better than the blue,” he lied, pulling the green shirt over his head and down his torso. Fred darted to his bed and grabbed his guitar and checked the time on his watch. He had ten minutes. “Good Godric,” he huffed.

“You alright? Haven’t seen you this shaken up since the time you thought you ate puking pastilles before your O.W.L.s,” George laughed as he tapped away on his bed frame.

Fred nervously tapped on his thighs, “I’m fine, George. I, uh, I’m giving (Y/N) a guitar lesson today,” he reveals to his twin who's eyes widen and chuckles, “It’s just a lesson. Nothing else. But I’m bloody nervous about it.”

Sitting up, George speaks, “You got nothing to worry about, mate.” He walks over to Fred and places reassuring hands on Fred’s shoulders. “(Y/N)s a great girl. She’s sweet and funny and proper fit,” George raises his brows as Fred groans. “I’m teasing you, Freddie, calm down. You’ve got nothing to lose. Now get down there and make her swoon.”

Fred was never nervous for dates or flirting with girls. All of that stuff came naturally to him. But for some reason the thought of you was enough to make his stomach do somersaults. The palms of his hands got sweaty when your name was spoken. There was something about you that made Fred Weasley lose his senses and that was hard to do.

Shaking it off, Fred huffs and leaves the dormitory making his way down to the common room. With each step he descended, his heart beat harder and faster against his rib cage. As he came down the stairs, your figure came into view which only made Fred’s mouth dry with anxiousness and excitement. He took a deep breath in and exhaled in attempt to calm himself down. I got this, she’s just a girl, he thought to himself. “4:00 on the dot,” Fred speaks, getting your attention, causing you to turn around to face him with a smile on your lips. “Very punctual, (Y/L/N).”

You take a good look at Fred and think about how effortlessly good he looked. Hunter green t-shirt hung on his tall frame perfectly as he walked over to where you sat on the couch, acoustic guitar in his hands. “Not to toot my own horn, but I was here at 3:55, Weasley,” you joke as he smiles. “Early is on time and on time is late.”

Fred chuckles, “In that case, pardon me for my tardiness. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive someone as foolish as me.”

His smile made your heart flutter and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. His joy was infectious. How could someone be so addictive? “Hmmm,” you pretend to think, “You’re lucky I’m such a kind and forgiving person.”

Fred places a hand over his heart and feigns relief. “Thank Merlin,” he fans himself as you chuckle. “Alright. You ready to get started?” he asks as you nod your head. “Brilliant, let’s start with the basics...”

After an hour of trial and error, you had managed to learned some chord progressions and strumming techniques from Fred. You had to give it to him; he was a great teacher. He was patient and smart and knowledgable. Not to mention, you loved listening to him talk about music and how passionate he was about playing. When he talked, he spoke with so much heart and life, it made you gently smile as you watched how animated he became. Fred Weasley really was one of a kind.

You were nearing the end of your lesson as Fred showed you how to play an F chord on the guitar. “Best chord,” he spoke as you looked at him quizzically. “F is for Fred, keep up (Y/N),” he teases making you scoff.

He explained the finger placements as you struggled to get it just right. “Wait, my second finger goes where?” you ask again as Fred points to the third string. You adjust and strum as an off-key chord resonates. “Now, that can’t be right,” you laugh as Fred shakes his head.

Fred gets up and moves from the chair in front of you to the seat next to you on the couch. He looks at you and asks, “May I?” He gestures to placing his hand on yours as you shake your head.

Gently, Fred places his hand on yours that holds the neck of the guitar as the other hand rests on your other elbow. Having his body is such close proximity to yours made your breath hitch in your throat as you felt his chest press against your back. Fred’s fingers adjust your placement carefully as if you were made of glass, trying his hardest not to make you break into a thousand bits. “This finger goes on the third string and this one stays on the second,” he lowly instructs. “And now, strum,” he speaks, a smile in his voice.

And so you do, a soft F chord playing as the strings underneath your fingertips hum sweetly. You two let the sound ring a little bit, either one of you not daring to breathe, scared to say or do anything. Just the position that you were in, his hands on yours, his chin resting near your shoulder, your back pressed against his chest. You gulped and exhaled softly. “Pretty,” you smiled.

Fred chuckled softly. “Yes, you are,” he spoke making your heart stop, wondering if he had just spoken those words.

You turn to face him, a questioning look in your eyes as Fred allows a small smirk to dance on his lips. Cheeky bastard, you think to yourself as you smile at him.

The two of you remain in this position, looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Fred’s eyes were a rich brown, like pools of chocolate melting under the summer sun. His eyes were full of playfulness and cheer which made joy course through your veins. Fred Weasley was special.

You didn’t even realize that he was leaning in until his forehead was pressed against yours and you connected the gap between you two, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss. As you kissed, he inhaled deeply, cupping your cheek with his hand, bringing you closer to him. His hands were calloused from the guitar strings as they pressed against your soft cheek. You pressed your lips onto his harder as Fred smiled gently into the kiss, enjoying every moment. You were first to pull away, but it didn’t last long, Fred’s lips following yours for another kiss as you giggled lightly. His lips were soft and tasted of sweet cinnamon and you wanted more, like your own drug.

Fred gently pulled away before speaking, “I have a confession.” You hum in response. “I was planning on kissing you this whole time. I was just trying to find a good excuse to sit next to you,” he confessed.

You smiled involuntarily and laughed. “I believe that,” you speak before placing another kiss to his lips quickly. “I also have a confession,” you bite your lip as Fred looks at you confused.

Scooting back a little, you cradle the guitar in your grasp before skillfully strumming a combination of chords that could be recognized as the beginning chords of I’m Looking Through You by The Beatles. Fred’s mouth goes agape and eyes wide as you play better than he could ever. “I lied about not knowing how to play the guitar,” you laughed. “I’ve known how to play since I was ten. I just wanted an excuse to see you again.”

Fred shakes his head in disbelief. “You sneak!” he exclaims. “A woman after my own heart,” he jokes as you laugh before he kisses your cheek. “Well, I guess you don’t need anymore lesson from a git like me. But I still think you should hold up your end of the deal,” he squeezes your hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Weasley,” you smile. “Although, I will be coyly judging your skills from the audience.”

Fred laughs, “I’m sure you will be, darling.”

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

After days of rehearsing and planning and scheduling and rehearsing some more, the gig at the Three Broomsticks rolled around. Ginny had managed to convinced the entirety of the Hogwarts quidditch league to come out which already filled the Three Broomsticks at half capacity. But getting more people to come wasn’t a problem. The promise of good music and Butterbeer was enough to have swarms of students flow into the small building.

The Three Broomsticks was soon teeming with people, chatting and drinking and laughing. The energy was high and the Weasleys could feel it from their make shift backstage (which was quite literally a curtain that Ron managed to pin up).

However, this meant that expectations were high which in turn made the band exceptionally nervous. Ginny nervously danced around, doing lip trills to warm up her voice as Ron tuned the bass. George sat at his drumming seat and ran over rhythms in his head, Fred pacing back and forth, biting on his nails.

You shuffled through the audience and found Harry and Hermione sitting at a table in the front as you approached them. You could hear Hermione gush about how hard Ron has been practicing for the gig, a rosy hue forming on her cheeks as Harry poked at her crush. As you approach, Hermione notices you and beams, “(Y/N)! Hi! Are you excited for the concert? You know Ron is playing bass?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Did you know Hermione has a big, fat cru-”

“Shut it, Harry,” Hermione quickly snaps as you laugh. “Anyway, what’s up?”

You smile, “Do you know if Fred is with the others still? I know he was nervous about tonight and I just wanna make sure he’s doing alright.”

Harry looks at Hermione and then back at you. “Yeah, he’s back with the others,” he says as you nod, leaving. But before you can leave, Harry stops you, “Wait, hold on, I didn’t know that you and Fred were....” he looks for the words.

“We’re not officially together, but we’ve been seeing each other,” you confess with a smile. Hermione gives you a teasing glance as she sips on her Butterbeer and Harry nudges her with an ooh. “Oh please. You think you two are slick? Everyone knows Harry fancies Ginny and Hermione is practically head over heels for Ronald,” you teases as they both wear bright red cheeks. “Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you laugh. “I’ll see you both in a minute.” You make your way to the back of the Three Broomsticks, behind the curtain to find a nervous band of siblings. Ginny catches your glances first and a smirk comes onto her lips. “Oh, Freddie,” she sing songs. “You have a guest.”

Fred turns around to face you and relief washes over his face as your heart skips a beat. Fred looked good sporting dark wash jeans and a black henley. Simple, but Godric, it was enough to make you swoon. Fred grabbed your hand and walked you over to the corner for a little more privacy. “I’m glad to see your face,” he spoke before bending down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I told you I wouldn’t miss it,” you squeeze his hand. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugs and gives you an awkward smile as you blurt out a laugh. “I don’t know,” he joins in. “Nervous? Excited? Weird? All three?”

You reach up and brush his hair out of his face as he relaxes under your touch. Just the simple gesture was enough to calm him down instantly. “It’s alright to feel like that. You are gonna be bloody brilliant. All of you,” you tell him sincerely. “You’ve been working so hard and you are all so talented. You’re gonna knock the audience’s socks off. I have no doubt in my mind,” you encourage him.

Fred smiles and without another word, he pulls you in by your waist to press your lips to his. You wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss him sweetly. His lips are pressed against yours firmly, but sweetly with passion. His touch was enough to make your head reel. Fred pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, “I’m playing for you tonight. And only you.”

Your heart skips a beat as you smile, staring into his eyes with so much adoration. It had only been a week and a half since you had started seeing each other, but you couldn’t help but have the overwhelming feeling that Fred was the one for you. He was everything you could ever ask for. Charming, kind, handsome, funny, witty. Fred Weasley was it.

“And I’ll be cheering you on the whole time,” you tell him, extending your pinky finger to him as he loops his with yours. The two of you press kisses to your thumbs, making it a pinky promise. “Now, go get ‘em, tiger,” you encourage him. As you walk away, Fred taps you bum playfully as you scurry away, back into the audience with Harry and Hermione.

The three of you buzz about the band and the atmosphere, sipping on Butterbeer before suddenly the audience starts wildly cheering. You turn your attention to the make-shift stage and see the Weasleys all enter. You immediately start clapping and cheering for the band as Ginny speaks into the mic. “Hello, Hogsmeade!” she laughs as the crowd cheers louder. “We are the Burrow Bangers and tonight we’ve got quite the show for you all!” she exclaims as the audience claps and shouts out. You look over at Harry and a wide grin is plastered on his face. “So, without further ado...”

“1, 2, 3, 4!” George bangs on his drumsticks before 80s rock blares through the small inn, the crowd immediately cheering and dancing the sound of the music.

And you had to admit it. They were damn good. They were all in synch with each other and blended so well together. The Weasleys were performers no matter how much they may hate it admit it. Not to mention, Fred looked hot wailing away on his cherry red electric guitar. His fingers skillfully strummed out chords and he musically added riffs when needed which made the crowd roar.

You were overwhelmed with pride at the boy you had taken such a keen liking to you and it was palpable. Fred would catch your eyes every now and then and drop his left eye into a wink, making you blush and cheer louder for him.

Tonight, and every night following, he played for you and you only.

#Fred and George #fred weasley #Fred and Goerge Weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader imagine #fred weasley x muggle!reader #fred weasly x reader #i know fred weasley is such a fucking angel #guitarist fred weasley #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #harry imagine

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yami-kada · 3 years

Text

Mission 2

Recently I read a fanfic on AO3 called Interlude - Class 1-A by @itslivybear and was inspired a bit to write a fic based on that! Well really I got inspiration for a single line (you'll know it when you see it) and then had to write a whole thing to be able to share that one line, but oh well. This is my first time writing a chatfic or even any BNHA content at all, so I hope it doesn't suck! Thanks to @shadesofflame for being an awesome beta!

(Quick FYI in this AU M*neta and Bakugou are replaced with Shinsou and Monoma, sorry for any confusion. Also a name guide can be found at the bottom.)

RockSolid: Um, so.

RockSolid: Remember the missions during the Sports Festival?

PurpleGrape: Oh hell yeah.

PurpleGrape: Still cherish the look on that bastard's face.

Spoderman: jehxgjc Kiri I got it on video!!!

JazzHands: You've had video of the capture of the bounty this whole time and never showed us???

LSD: I thought we were friends Sero!

Spoderman: omg no not that I totally would have shared earlier if i did

Spoderman: im talking about That.

RockSolid: no Sero don't tell them!

RockSolid: it's embarrassing!

PikaCHU: Tell us, tell us!

NYOOM: Kaminari-kun! If Kirishima-kun wishes to keep his privacy, then it is our duty as his classmates to respect that!

Spoderman: ok but consider: he already gave them a major hint and they are about to POUNCE

BreadIsPain: As a witness as well, I must say that Kirishima was si attirant que j'ai failli m'évanouir~*

RockSolid: thanks, I think?

MOMo: To paraphrase Aoyama, he is essentially saying you were very manly, Kirishima!

RockSolid: aw thanks bro!! Don't believe you but thanks!

Spoderman: you take that lack of confidence back I have evidence right here that says you are super fucking manly!

LSD: ok please now we have to know so that we can show Kiri how great he is!!!

MOMo: I must admit that the commentary seen thus far has me rather curious as well.

RockSolid: You guys…

RockSolid: alright then, I'll tell you!

Spoderman: sweet ill pull it up!

RockSolid: bro don't you dare! my story, I get to tell it!

Spoderman: oh yeah of course bro!!

Spoderman: but if after you wanna show it then i am READY.

JazzHands: This is very sweet and all but I am very thirsty for this TEA.

RockSolid: on it!

Kirby: Kiri you've been typing for so long that I'm getting Izuku vibes here.

GreenGrape: Hey!

RockSolid: sorry! this is harder than I thought!

Spoderman: want me to start it off?

RockSolid: you know what, sure.

Spoderman: aight so,

Spoderman: Council, what qualifies as capturing the bounty?

GreenGrape: Guys no the bounty is over please no more bounty-hunting Kacchan.

MOMo: Your objection is noted and overruled, Izuku.

MOMo: For your question, Sero, I do not believe we ever set specific limitations on what qualified, but I was under the impression that it was limited to the Sports Festival. Why do you ask?

Spoderman: just double checking

Spoderman: because my bro here just totally shot both missions out of the park!!!

LSD: gaSP!!!

JazzHands: bOTH?!

RockSolid: no not both!! we have no confirmation for either, technically!

Kirby: Technically? What do you mean by that?

RockSolid: ahhhh ok so Sero and I were eating lunch in the courtyard because it was nice out, right?!

RockSolid: and we were chillin, being bros, birds were singing, all was good.

RockSolid: and then we heard a small explosion before the bounty walked in at the other end of the courtyard and started kicking at the wall.

PikaCHU: omg so angy.

RockSolid: and like fine, we can tune him out, just try to act like he's not there, you know?

RockSolid: But then he started yelling at random people in the courtyard, just acting pissed as hell.

PikaCHU: oMG so ANGY.

RockSolid: and that's just not manly at all, you know? going off on people like that just because you're in a bad mood.

GreenGrape: Yeah… that's Kacchan for you.

RockSolid: so he's making his way around the courtyard now, like everyone needs their daily dose of asshole for him to be happy, and the closer he got the more annoyed I got.

Spoderman: here it comes!

RockSolid: and eventually I get up, because I have had just about enough, and walk right up to him.

RockSolid: he doesn't see me coming, because he was too busy yelling at some girl, and I get right up behind him.

RockSolid: and then I just called out to get his attention, and spun him to face me while making sure I end up between him and the girl.

RockSolid: and well I told him off a little bit and got him to back off then left in a hurry.

RockSolid: and that's it!

Spoderman: oh no you don't

BreadIsPain: Oui! Monsieur Kirishima, you must tell the climax with just as much zest as the build-up!

Spoderman: what he said! no skipping out on the best part!

RockSolid: but!!!

Jacked: No buts, mister. We're all way too invested now for you to back down.

RockSolid: :(

RockSolid: fine! you win!

RockSolid: so uh when I got his attention, I also got my hand onto his shoulder, and used his surprise to knock his feet a bit off balance and pulled him back, but then I ended up with him in my arms and could tell he was about to start yelling so I just…

RockSolid: you know…

RockSolid: flirted?

LSD: oh my GoD this is great!!!

PikaCHU: Hell yeah Kiri! Go get yourself a manz!

RockSolid: I'm not getting a man! He's probably going to kill me the next time he sees me!

Spoderman: i dunno, it took him a good long while to reboot after what you said there

Spoderman: you might have a shot

PurpleGrape: Well if you're not going to get a man out of this, mind telling us what you said so I can bait him next time he tries to be an ass?

RockSolid: uhhh…

RockSolid: I'm nervous.

BreadIsPain: If you will allow me, I shall finish your tale off dazzlingly!

RockSolid: Thanks Aoyama.

BreadIsPain: Bien entendu!

BreadIsPain: While holding him in his arms tightly in a dip, faces inches apart, Monsieur Kirishima leaned impossibly closer to emphasize his point.

RockSolid: oh god I regret everything.

LSD: Hush, it's getting good!

BreadIsPain: With a growl to his voice and his eyes burning above a smirk, he said "You know, you're damn cute when you're angry, but you'd be downright sexy if you shut the fuck up." Then he straightened up to fling the lost soul to the side, and saunter off like the devil was guarding his back, leaving the bounty terribly confused in his wake.

PurpleGrape: Whoa.

PikaCHU: Holy shit?!

RockSolid: what is that description?!?!?!

JazzHands: Kiri that was PERFECT oh my god?!

LSD: It's ART is what it is!

Spoderman: don't forget how red the guy was! Kiri was cool as a cucumber but the other guy couldn't stop blushing after seeing his face!!!

MOMo pinned a message

RockSolid: Yaomomo!!!

MOMo: My apologies, Kirishima, but I felt it only right to ensure easy access to your most manly moment.

LSD: Yeah Kiri! Then one day we can all look back on this and celebrate how everything started!!

RockSolid: How what started???

LSD: E v e r y t h i n g

RockSolid: @Spoderman bro hide me I’m scared.

Spoderman: hey guys, wanna see a GREAT video?

Spoderman: the stars are our main man, Kiri, and the bounty!

PikaCHU: hell yeah!!!

Jacked: Lay it on me.

PurpleGrape: Sure.

JazzHands: Do you really have to ask????

RockSolid: but I already told you what happened!

RockSolid: why do you want to see me being so embarrassing?

PikaCHU: bro we all appreciate you so much of course we want to see you being manly!

LSD: Just from what you all said there is no way you don’t look great in that vid, Kiri!

PikaCHU: gotta give support where support is due!!

PurpleGrape: They’ll all bully Sero into showing them one way or another anyways, might as well give in now.

RockSolid: but...

BreadIsPain: Nous devons vous montrer à quel point vous brillez et dissiper ces pensées douteuses!**

MOMo: I could not have said it better myself, Aoyama!

RockSolid: I don’t even know what he said though?!?!?!?!?!?!

Spoderman: Kiri.

Spoderman: Bro.

Jacked: Well shoot he’s using proper grammar and everything.

Spoderman: Rude.

Spoderman: Anyways Bro.

RockSolid: yeah?

Spoderman: You are epic. This video shows you being epic. And putting an asshole in their place.

Spoderman: You have nothing to be ashamed of, and every reason to be proud. So please let me show the video so that everyone can appreciate you like you deserve bro.

RockSolid: bro…

Spoderman: Bro.

RockSolid: bro -

Spoderman: Bro?

RockSolid: bro!

Spoderman: aight everyone down to the common room its up on the big screen

Spoderman: i have popcorn too

Jacked: Not even gonna question that.

LSD: Finally!!!

JazzHands: Yuss!!!

BreadIsPain: Je vais regarder avec enthousiasme!***

MOMo: As will all of us I’m sure, Aoyama!

RockSolid: Thanks guys!

RockSolid: Now get down here and watch me maybe get a man!

Translations:

*so attractive that I almost swooned.

**We must show you how much you shine, and dispel those self-doubting thoughts!

***I shall excitedly watch!

Guide to names:

GreenGrape - Izuku

PurpleGrape - Hitoshi

CopyCat - Monoma Neito

MOMo - Yaoyorozu Momo

datBoi - Asui Tsuyu

JazzHands - Hagakure Toru

NYOOM - Iida Tenya

SnowWhite - Kouda Kouji

LifeIsPain - Tokoyami Fumikage

BreadIsPain - Aoyama Yuga

Kirby - Uraraka Ochaco

LSD - Ashido Mina

PikaCHU - Kaminari Denki

RockSolid - Kirishima Eijiro

RipHarambe - Ojiro Mashirao

IcyHot - Todoroki Shoto

MuffinMan - Sato Rikido

Octodad - Shouji Mezou

Jacked - Jirou Kyoka

Spoderman - Sero Hanta

#my writing #boku no hero academia #BNHA #fanfic #humor #kiribaku #chat fic #inspired by fanfiction #my hero academia au #my hero academia #crack fic #just slightly #had to redo the formatting because Tumblr removed it :/#probably ooc but oh well I tried and had fun

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abbyilr1967 · 3 years

Text

Out of Time - Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Peter and Y/n have been together since the events of Spiderman Home Coming. One day while on a field trip Y/n and Peter are called into action as strange aliens claiming the be the “Children of Thanos' ' begin invading New York.

A/n: Finally finished the first rewrite, and am quite proud of it. If you were a fan of this mini-series a year again, I’m sure you will like this as well. As per usual, if you are new here, here is a link to my Masterlist, as well as a link to the Out of Time (Rewrite) Masterlist.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, some fluff if you squint, and ANGST.

WordCount: 2.7k

The morning had begun the same as usual that day. When you roll over to turn off your alarm you see that you have a text waiting from Peter. He was always up before you and always sends you a text or cute gif to wait up to in the morning. Today you and Peter were going on a school trip, so you were going to meet him at his place and walk to school together.

You and Peter were sitting together on the bus riding to the destination of the trip. Peter was against the window staring out over the water as the bus crosses the bridge, while you were facing the aisle talking to MJ and Ned. As you’re listening to Ned ramble on about his new Lego set, you feel Peter tap your shoulder

“Y/n,” You turn to Peter and find his gaze is still glued to the window. “Over there,” he says pointing at the giant ring-shaped ship floating above New York.

“Oh god,” you reply. You turn to Ned and start tapping him to get his attention. “Ned, we need you to cause a distraction.” Ned can see the panic in your eyes as you and Peter try your best to be as quick and discreet as possible.

“I’m on it.” Ned stands in his seat and points towards the floating ring in the sky. “Hey everyone, look! We’re all gonna die!” he shouts.

As everyone moves to the back of the bus to get a look at the strange-looking spaceship, Peter flings himself off the bus to put his suit on. You monitor the situation on the bus while Peter suits up.

“I’m ready.” he leans his head back in the bus window. You take the opportunity to engage the jet boosters your father had built into your shoes in case of emergency. Once you are safely floating outside of the bus you engage reconstruction of the ironman suit you and your father had built together. As the helmet finally closes over your head you lower yourself so Peter can hop onto your back.

“It’s headed downtown!” Peter says through the earpiece your father had connected to both your suits. Using your now iron-plated jet boosters your fly after the ring-shaped spaceship

As you and Peter arrive downtown you see your dad and bruce trying to fight off this massive alien that looks like it came straight out of a sci-fi novel. The creature backhands your Dad into next week and before you can react, Peter is already there to block the next blow. Next thing you know, a flash of blue and red flies past you.

“Y/n!” your Dad calls to you. “I thought you were on a field trip?” he shouts.

“I don’t think now is the time to be asking those kinds of questions Dad, Woah!” As your father distracts you from the literal aliens in front of you, you’re almost knocked on your ass by a large piece of rubble the thing had decided to throw in your direction.

“We’re here now. You can’t change that. How can we help?”

“That guy, floating wizard in the sky, he’s got something important.” Tony points towards the strange-looking man wrapped in a cape and some oddly bent metal. “We can’t let these guys take him, go get him.”

“We’re on it.” Peter responds as he flings himself past you once more.

You catch up to the wizard and latch onto the metal bars that are tied around him, and use your jet boosters to keep him from being sucked into the space ships tractor beam. Peter uses his webs to latch on as well, but the beam was too strong and begins pulling both you and Peter towards the ship.

“Uh… Dad.” You struggle to fight the force of the tractor beam.

“Mr. Stark, I think we’re being beamed up!” Peter shouts as the webs connecting to the closest buildings snap.

“Now is not the time for jokes Peter.” Your father’s tone in your earpiece tells you that he’s not impressed with the young hero right now. “Get out of there.”

“Dad, we’re losing him.” your voice strains as you try your best to keep a hold on the wizard.

A bit of the metal snaps, and the force is enough to pull the man into the ship. Peter’s web is cut off by the door closing before he has a chance to enter. He’s landed on the side of the ship, and it looking to you for any ideas.

“We need to find a way inside.” Peter gives you a quick nod before you both separate to look for an entrance.

You use your suit you fly around the exterior of the ship, while Peter starts searching along the inside of the ring.

“Peter we’re too high, you’re running out of air!” you exclaim through your earpiece. Flying back around towards him.

“We need to save the wizard,” he replies sounding short of breath. You stop and anchor yourself to the ship.

You watch as Peter pulls his mask off, attempting to get more oxygen. Only to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head as he lets go of the side of the ship.

“Peter!” You push on the side of the ship immediately, readying to chase after him.

“I gotcha Pete.” your father’s voice rings clear in your ears, as you watch a piece of his tech launch towards Peter. His body jerks as the small rocket makes impact along his back, and watch as a suit very similar to yours starts to wrap around him.

You listen carefully through your earpiece for any sign of breathing from Peter. His sudden deep inhale is enough to let you know that he’s going to be ok.

“Woah, Mr. Stark these are some cool upgrades.” he sounds ecstatic through the earpiece, even considering he almost plummeted to his death. “It smells like a new car in here.”

“Alright great, F.R.I.D.A.Y. take them home,”

“What?” the map in the corner of your vision, showing the route it plans to use to fly you and Peter home, and just like that both you and Peter are swept away. In the haste of everything that is going on, Tony failed to make sure that Peter didn’t attach himself and you to the side of the ship before he went after the wizard.

“What are you two doing here?” Tony asks in his angry Dad voice. He found the two of you when you were attempting to listen in on the conversation your father was having with the wizard.

“We were just trying to he—”

Tony cuts Peter off. “Nope. Your mother,” Tony says pointing to you. “And your Aunt,” He says pointing to Peter. “Are going to kill me if they knew you were in space. This is too big of a fight for you two to be a part of, I don’t know what I’d do with myself if one of you got hurt,” he says, concerned.

“How can we be friendly neighbourhood heroes, if there’s no neighbourhood?” Peter asks.

You and your Dad both look at him weirdly.

“Ok that was bad, but you get what I mean,” he said.

“Peter’s right Dad,” you say as your masks retracted from your face. You look straight into your Dad’s eyes. “Fine,” he starts, knowing that you’re stubborn just like your mother. Your dad motions to knight both you and Peter. “There, you’re Avengers now.”

You and Peter both look at each other and smile. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you into the air, planting a kiss on your lips after setting you back down.

“Alright, keep the public displays of affection to a minimum, we need a game plan.” the wizard said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Y/n, and this is Peter.” you say extending your hand out to him.

“Dr. Strange,” he says coldly.

Peter leans over to whisper in your ear, “We’re using our made-up names?” “I guess so,” you say jokingly.

“I’m Spiderman,” he says. You snort as you see the confused expression from Dr. Strange. Peter sees you laughing and shoves your shoulder.

You look over to see your Dad fidget with the control panel of the ship.

“We need to turn this ship around,” Dr. Strange said.

“Whelp, it’s on auto-pilot, so we are on our way right to Thanos,” Tony says to Dr. Strange. You remember them mentioning a man named Thanos during their conversation before you and Peter were caught by your dad. You pull Peter off to the side as the realization of what you’re about to go through sets in. He could see the distressed look on your face.

“Hey, what's wrong?” he asks.

“I’ve never seen my Dad so worried like this before,” you say nervously. “I think we might be biting off more than we can chew.”

“Hey hey hey hey hey,” he says pulling you into his chest” We’re gonna be fine, when having we ever given up.” Peter’s hand runs up and down your back in an attempt to calm you down.

“You’re right,” you say leaning into his touch. “You always know what to say,”

“I mean… I try.” You both chuckle softly at Peter’s attempt to lift your spirits.

“C’mon, let’s go back.” He gestures

He gives you a forehead kiss and one last tight squeeze before leaving to talk strategy.

You had crashed onto a planet known as Titan after a “flawless” landing by Peter and your father. You were waiting for the arrival of Thanos when you were ambushed by a group of travellers. They immediately attacked, and in the haste of it all, they grabbed Peter and threatened his life. That only caused your father, the ever impulsive man he is, to threaten the life of one of their own in return.

“We are the Avengers!” you shout over all the testosterone.

“Wait, so you’re not with Thanos?” The man holding the gun to Peter’s temple looked as confused as ever, which prompted you to explain to him that you were there to kill Thanos.

After some brief introductions and explanations, you learned that the group refers to themselves as the Guardian’s of the Galaxy, and their names are Starlord, Drax, and Mantis. They explained to you that they were here looking for Thanos because they are trying to rescue their valued member of the team. Your father gathered everyone together to try to work out a plan, to which newbies were skeptical. With the introduction of these Guardian’s of the Galaxy to the initial plan, you were confident in your ability to take down Thanos here and now. Once a plan was in place, everyone went to their places, ready to ambush him when he arrived.

That’s when we heard it. The sound of heavy boots stomping onto the planet.

You look over and can see Peter, he locks eyes with you.

“I love you,” you mouth to him.

“I love you too,” he mouths back. You nod, eyes lingering on your boyfriend. If things go sideways you want to make sure you’ve memories every detail of him.

You are waiting for your cue from Dr. Strange who has been talking to Thanos to distract him.

“I’m sure you will find our will much stronger,” and with that you attack.

Your father came rushing in, crashing a building down on top of him. All of you stood around thinking that he was dead, little did you know, it only made him angrier. He burst out from under the rubble and Peter tries to use his webs to hold him down, but he only used it against him. He pulled Peter towards him and caught him by the throat. Only to them slam him into the ground.

“Tiny insect,” you could he Peter struggling under the weight of Thanos.

“Let him go!’ you shout as you rush toward him with your iron hammer fist ready to punch him.

You go in for the punch. Your fist almost makes contact with his jaw, but not before he let Peter go, and grabbed your arm instead. Hurdling you across the battlefield.

You are thrown into a pile of space rubble, the wind knocked from your lungs. Your vision had gone blurry, and you struggle to regain your balance but you could see your father in all his rage, fighting Thanos. You got up and could see that Mantis was up on Thanos’ shoulders, keeping him in a headlock while she put him in a trance.

“Y/n!” your Dad called. “We almost got it off, hurry!.”

In an instant, you were right by Peter trying your hardest to pull off his gauntlet.

“So close.” You groan, struggling to get the tight-fitting gauntlet off the last bit of his hand that was still inside.

That’s when he took control of his mind back, waking up from the trance Mantis had put him under. He shakes you all off, but not before Thanos grabbed you by the throat.

“No!” you could hear Peter shouting.

“So small,” he said. “Barely lived a life, and yet so ready to give everything up to save everyone,” you spit in his face.

“I’d rather die fighting you than sit home doing nothing,” you croak.

“Your wish is my command,” and he squeezed harder. The corners of your vision started to become blurry, and your lungs begin to burn.

“Stop!” you hear Dr. Strange. “I will give you the time stone if you let the girl go,”

“No, don’t.” you struggle. “Don’t do it.”

He took a minute to contemplate. “Fine,” he says chucking you to your father’s feet. Peter comes running over.

“Y/n, your gonna be fine,” he says as he holds you.

You open your eyes and can see just as Dr. Strange is giving the stone to Thanos.

“No,” you sigh. Peter holds you tighter as you try to wriggle out of his arms.

Just then a wave of power shook the ground, and you saw it. The sheer power that the gauntlet holds. And before any of you could do anything, he snapped.

The world shook, and he was gone. And you had a sick feeling in your stomach.

“He’s gone,” your father said quietly.

“It’s my fault,” you said, moving into an upright position and out of Peter’s lap. “I should have done more.”

“You did enough.” Your father reassures you.

“You should’ve let me die if it meant saving everyone.” You glare at Dr. Strange, storming over to him. “You said that if it came down to it you’d let us die. So why didn’t you keep your promise!” Your face is just inches from his.

“There are fourteen-million, six-hundred-and-five realities in which Thanos wins, and only one in which we win.” he states.

“I realized I couldn’t risk letting any of you die, because I’m not sure who saves us all.” His lip trembles, you can tell he’s just as infuriated with this situation as you are.

“Guys?” You turn around and find your father and Peter looking over towards where Drax, Starlord, and Mantis are. They’re turning to dust. This prompted you and Peter to both look over to Dr. Strange, just in time to see him turn to dust as well.

“Dad?” you ask, panicked.

“You’re going to be fine-,” you Dad started to say, rushing over to you. “Peter?”

“I-I-I don’t feel so good,” Peter said. “Y/n, I-I-,” he stumbled into you. You held him tight, you can feel him become lighter and lighter.

“I love you,” is the last thing you hear from him before he turns into dust.

“Dad! He’s g-gone,” you tried to hold back a sob. Remnants of Peter lay in small flakes of dust on your palms.

That’s when you felt. It started in your hands. You looked down with tears in your eyes as you see your hand start to crumble. You look back to your dad.

“Daddy.” you whimper.

And the last thing you saw was the look on your father’s face as his heart broke, and your vision went black.

#peter parker #marvel #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #avengers infinity war #MARVEL FANDOM #spider man #spider man x reader #spider man x you #spider man x y/n #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x stark!you #peter parker x stark!y/n #tony stark #tony x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #tony stark x daughter!y/n

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

Text

Short Stack

Okay, so I recently started a series called Saving Her Sanity, and I had only gotten one part posted. But the more I reread it, the more I really hated the way I’d written it. So I’m postponing that and starting a different series. It’s gonna be a real rollercoaster ride of emotions, so buckle up.

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x ProHero! Fem! Reader

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Angst, fluff, habitual self-harm, dissociation, swearing from obvious sources, alcohol. Coming up in later parts: smexy times, biting kink, double penetration, unprotected sex, more angst, traumatic past (but not super detailed cuz I can’t handle that shit my heart hurts already)

Word Count: 6.9k

Author’s Note: Alright folks, the reader is a fucking savage and stronger than the fucking hulk cause why the fuck not? Tbh body type isn’t discussed, the only thing is that she’s short af and the angry pomeranian and redhead boulder are freaking giants. Also, everyone’s in their mid-late twenties here.

Part 2 - Part 3

Enjoy the read!

You dove out of the way of chunks of concrete, barely making it behind the corner of the alleyway. You took off sprinting, hopefully drawing the villain away from civilian activity. Thankfully he chased after you, onto an abandoned street, out in the open where you had the upper hand. Twirling around, you materialized a scythe and swung it straight at the enormous arm coming at you, nearly chopping off the villain’s fist completely.

He stopped in his tracks and howled in pain, giving you the opening you needed. You charged him and dropped to the ground, taking his legs out as you slid under him. A chain materialized in place of the scythe and you wrapped it around his ankles and his undamaged hand, hog tying him in place. You’d only been fighting the villain for about five minutes, and backup wasn’t going to be there for at least another two, so you put a quirk cancelling cuff on him and began to wrap his bleeding wrist to keep him from bleeding out.

As you waited for backup, you sat down and leaned against the villain, who’d passed out from blood loss, and tended to your own wounds from the encounter. Backup arrived, but it wasn’t what you expected. Instead of police, stomping toward you was none other than the number two hero Ground Zero. His vermillion eyes glanced between you and the villain that was quite literally twice your size, and the expression on his face looked ever so slightly confused at the scene he was witnessing.

He stopped at your feet, glaring down at you for a few seconds, looked back at the villain, then back at you, and when he opened his mouth to speak the most absurd thing you’d ever heard came from his lips.

“How the hell did you do that?”

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, slightly irritated at the implication behind the question. Without a word, you stood up and dusted the dirt off your butt. You walked a few yards away, pulled out your phone and dialed the police, making sure they came with a vehicle that could fit the huge villain. When you turned back around to face Ground Zero, you didn’t expect him to be so close to you. He leaned down so you were face to face, narrowing his eyes at you and letting out what sounded like a growl. “I don’t like being ignored, dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes and glared right back at him. “Well I don’t like to be undermined, Ground Zero. I may be small but I can handle myself in a fight.” And it was true. You were very small, at a whopping 5 feet tall (152 cm). His eye twitched and jaw clenched, and you could almost see the steam coming from his ears. Before he could retort, you saw something being launched from behind him. You swung your leg under him and pinned him to the ground just in time to dodge a manhole cover as it whizzed above your heads.

Without hesitation you launched toward the second villain that appeared and quickly had him immobilized and cuffed on the ground next to the first. You turned back to the number two hero, who was still on the ground watching you with wide eyes. You walked over and held your hand out to him, offering to help him up. To your surprise he actually grabbed your hand and let you pull him to stand. He didn’t let go of your hand, instead looking at it, bewildered.

“Can I have my hand back?” you looked at him blankly. He blinked a few times before releasing his grip. Soon the police arrived to take the villains, and once they left, you began to walk back to the agency since your patrol had ended a little while ago. Ground Zero ran after you and grabbed you by the wrist, turning you around to face him.

“What’s your name?” You raised an eyebrow at the man. “My hero name is Inventory. Now If you don’t mind, I’ve got paperwork to fill out.” He let go of your arm and walked alongside you. You knew why he was walking with you, seeing as you worked as a hero at his agency. As you walked into the building he turned to you with a quizzical look. Without even glancing in his direction you gave a small sigh. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t even know I work under you?”

He seemed slightly shocked. He made it a point to know who was working for him. After all, he couldn’t have anybody screwing up his agency’s reputation. Somehow, though, you’d managed to slip under his radar. Though considering your stature, hero rank, and the fact that you hadn’t made a single mistake since your debut, he figured he’d just brushed you off.

After you filled out all your paperwork, you changed out of your hero costume and into workout clothes and hit the agency’s gym. Like you always did, you went straight to the separate room reserved for sparring, expecting to have to go back out and find a partner. Today, though, you didn’t. As you entered the room, there was a certain angry blonde and a very muscular red-haired man sitting against the wall.

“Well if it isn’t short stack” Ground Zero called out to you. Well that’s one way to get you mad. You tilted your head sharply to one side, then the other, your neck popping loudly as you took a deep breath to calm your anger. “Hello, Ground Zero. I didn’t expect you to be in here. I’ll just leave you to it then.” The irritation seeped into your voice as you turned around to leave the room.

Of course, the jackass had to go and say something else. “What? You too scared to spar against me? Am I too big for you to handle?” God damn it. You both knew you had taken down much larger opponents than him, and you knew it wasn’t very smart to fight your boss, but at this point you were pissed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose.

He stood up and began stalking towards you, his heavy footsteps ringing in your ears. You dropped your duffel and whirled around, walking to him and meeting him in the middle of the room. At least sparring was only hand-to-hand combat, because you knew he’d easily overpower you if he could use his quirk. But you trained almost exclusively in hand-to-hand, because your quirk wasn’t combat related.

As you dropped into your fighting stance, he narrowed his eyes at you, clearly confused at the odd stance you were in. In all your years of training, you had developed your very own fighting style. He quickly shrugged off his confusion and put his arms up in front of his face, ready for whatever you were about to throw at him. The two of you stood there, waiting for the other to make the first move. As predicted, his patience ran out and you easily ducked and dodged the first few quick jabs he threw.

He kept throwing punches, each one a little more intense, and you could see he was getting irritated from how you were dodging every single one. Soon enough he was lunging at you with each punch he threw, his anger getting the best of him. Five minutes of him punching and you dodging had him fuming. You hadn’t even thrown a single punch. Still, it was a game of cat and mouse with you dodging everything he threw.

The whole time he’d been aiming at your face and shoulders, keeping his strikes high. But suddenly he launched at you and his right fist aimed straight for your stomach. Got him. You planted your right foot and spun counter-clockwise, grabbed his wrist with your left hand, grabbed his shoulder with your right, and used his own momentum to fling him over your head. He landed on his back with a thud, all the air pushed out of his lungs from the impact.

You knew he’d have to take a few seconds to get up from that, and that meant you won the match in a single move. You stood over his head, smirking down at him. He glared up at you with eyes wide as saucers, wheezing from the throw, and the redhead cackled from his spot against the wall. You kneeled down and hunched over, your noses inches apart, and said, “Still think you’re too big for me to handle?”

Staring down at him, you stood again and walked over to the redhead. “Hi, I’m (y/l/n) (y/n), hero name Inventory.” You introduced yourself and held your hand out for him to shake. He took it and introduced himself as Kirishima Eijirou, a.k.a. Red Riot. You walked back over to Ground Zero and once again held your hand out to help him up. This time, he slapped your hand away and got up himself. “The name’s Bakugou Katsuki,” he said, scowling at you.

Kirishima got up and came over, “Come on Bakugou, don’t be a jerk just cause you lost. Sorry about that (y/l/n), he’s just prideful.” You chuckled lightly, waving it off, “It’s fine. I’ve heard ALL about Ground Zero’s friendly personality and peppy attitude. Anyway, It’s been fun, but I should get going.” Kirishima stopped you before you could walk away. “Hey, (y/l/n), we were gonna go out for drinks after this, you wanna join us?” You looked over to Bakugou, who didn’t give any input, choosing instead to glare at the corner. “Sure I’ll meet you outside in ten.”

You picked up your duffel and went back to the locker room to change into your civilian clothes. The bar was only a couple blocks away, so you all left your stuff in your cars and walked over. Bakugou didn’t say anything the whole way there, still wallowing in his humiliating defeat. You, being the smartass you are, decided to poke the bear.

“Stop sulking Bakugou, I haven’t lost a sparring match since high school. Besides, if we were to use our quirks you’d most likely win the match. You don’t gotta be all depressed about it.” His head snapped toward you and his hands popped and crackled at his sides. It was probably meant to scare you, but you only put your hands up in mock surrender.

When you got to the bar you all ordered your drinks and sat down at a booth. Kirishima looked at you and started asking questions. “So, (y/l/n), if you’re so sure you’d lose to Bakugou’s quirk, what’s yours?” You answered him like you answered everyone else who’d asked you the same question. “Basically, it’s like an inventory in a video game, hence the hero name. I can “store” things in a pocket of space and materialize them whenever I need them,” then you held out your hand and materialized your car keys and cell phone.

His eyes went wide and he started gushing about how cool and convenient that is. Meanwhile, Bakugou just rolled his eyes and mumbled “showoff” under his breath. Kirishima elbowed him and told him to behave, making you giggle at the dynamic of the two. Despite being at a bar, the only one that drank any alcohol was Kirishima. What really shocked you was that he was a terrible lightweight, and getting him to walk back to the agency was proving extremely difficult, because he was leaning nearly all his weight on you and Bakugou didn’t bother to help.

In fact, Bakugou was busy snickering at the sight of you trying to keep Kirishima from stumbling out onto the road and taking you with him. You’d be lying if you said Kirishima wasn’t heavy, but years of weight training and hero work pays off cause you could easily squat over 200 lbs even if you were tiny. So about a block from the agency, you’d had enough of trying to keep Kirishima from falling over and you just stopped walking.

Kirishima was too out of it to notice. But Bakugou turned and started teasing you for not being able to handle the weight. You just rolled your eyes at him. Before Bakugou could move and take him off your hands, you took a deep breath, and hauled Kirishima onto your shoulders in a fireman carry. Bakugou’s jaw dropped, and he froze in place, just staring at the scene in front of him. That both annoyed you and made you extremely proud, cause you just impressed the number two hero. You were sure the scene was at least a little funny, a giant hanging off your tiny frame, but you ignored it.

Once you had Kirishima secured on your shoulders, you started the trek to the agency. Again, Bakugou was completely silent, but you could tell it wasn’t because he was sulking. Once you were back at the agency, Bakugo led you to his car and got Kirishima settled in the back seat while you stretched out your arms, popping your shoulders and neck. You were about to say bye and head back to your car when Bakugou stopped you.

“Thanks for carrying him. It was impressive. Unexpected,” he said, not making eye contact, “And the match earlier…You did good. I haven’t been beat that bad in a while.” It almost looked like he was blushing, but it was so subtle you couldn’t tell. You smiled softly at the compliments. “Thanks, Bakugou. I had fun. I’ll be going now.” You turned to walk to your car, but he stopped you again. “Oi, short stack!” You froze at the name, and turned around with a sickly sweet smile on your face, “Yes, Bakugou?” “What’s your number?” It was your turn to be shocked. But you got over it and recited your number to him as he punched it into his phone.

When you got home it was just after midnight, so you got ready for bed and lay down to sleep. The next few days passed relatively quickly, occasionally running into Kirishima or Bakugou. There wasn’t any villain activity in the area, and your gym time was productive. You got a couple of people to spar with you when you needed it, and spent any extra time weight training.

The next day you were off, just like every day you had off, you went straight to the agency and hit the gym. You spent a solid hour at the punching bag and went to go spar again. This time there were five others in the room, which was extremely rare. Normally the room was empty. Two pairs were already going at it, so you asked the fifth if she wanted to spar.

You’d already worked up a sweat at the punching bag, but you needed the spar, so instead of finishing quickly you made sure to take a couple punches and throw a few before ending the match. You kept the same partner for a few matches, winning each one, and soon the others were watching as you won two more rounds.

The partner you’d been sparring with tapped out to get water, and someone else quickly took her place. You immediately jumped into another match. And then another. And another. Soon they tapped out as well, and by then there were a few more people filing into the room to watch. It confused you, because you’d never seen more than ten people in the padded room, but you ignored it and began another match with yet another partner.

After another few rounds, your new partner tapped out, and you decided it was time to get some water. But it wasn’t until you stepped back out into the center of the room that you realised nobody else was starting a match. Nobody else was sparring with anybody, all their eyes locked on you. As you looked around the room, you noticed it was getting crowded with people, all your previous opponents had already left, and a new opponent stepped out to challenge you.

Now this was strange. Even with your opponent getting into his fighting stance, you looked around the room, confused as to why there were so many people. You dodged a jab, snapping your attention back to your opponent. Well that was a dirty move. At his next swing you ducked under his arm, lunged to his side and swept his legs out from underneath him, ending the match before he could even blink. Playing dirty gets you knocked the fuck out as far as sparring goes for you.

The crowd that had gathered cheered at the quick takedown, and yet another opponent stepped out. You lost track of time, sparring dozens of different opponents, never losing a single match. If you began to tire all you did was end the match quickly to regain energy. After you went to refill your water for what must have been the 20th time, you checked the clock. It was already noon. You’d been sparring for five hours.

When you went back into the room, another opponent waited in the middle. You apologized and said you had to leave, and the crowd dispersed within minutes. You showered and changed, and as you left the locker room you got a text from a number you didn’t recognize.

Oi short stack, what are you doing right now?

Correction, you knew EXACTLY who this was.

You:

Just got out of the gym. Why?

Bakugou:

Where?

You:

At the agency

Why?

You didn’t get a reply, but you didn’t need one, cause Bakugou was waiting for you outside the building, sitting in his car, with Kirishima in the passenger seat. “You haven’t had lunch yet right?” Bakugou asked. You shook your head no. Kirishima spoke this time, “Great! Let’s go eat, I’m starving!” Bakugou rolled his eyes and told you to get in, and you chuckled as you got into the back seat.

During the ride Kirishima asked about your day, and you told him about the strange occurrence while you sparred, with a crowd forming to watch and people popping out of nowhere to challenge your winning streak. “Wow (y/l/n)! You still haven’t lost? I should spar with you and see if I can win!” You giggled at that and agreed to spar with him next time. And you kept reiterating how strange it was that there’d be so many people in the room at once, when normally there’s only a handful at a time.

They both questioned it but soon shrugged it off as Bakugou parked the car in front of the sushi restaurant. Lunch was a whirlwind of Kirishima asking you questions, you asking them questions, and Bakugou bickering at Kirishima when he ignored Bakugou entirely. It was fun seeing the two so close. Eventually the conversation rounded back to your sparring matches earlier.

“So how long were you there? If a crowd formed you had to have been at it for a while.” Kirishima asked, trying to figure out how long you’d fought people. You answered sheepishly, a bit embarrassed that you’d lost track of time so easily, “Well...when I checked the clock it’d been about five hours.” Both of them froze, staring at you with wide eyes. Your face burned and you took a sip of your water. Bakugou was the first to talk. “You’re a fucking beast.” Kirishima’s expression went from shock to concern. “Are you ok? Like, how are you not passed out right now?”

You assured him you were fine, and explained how much time you spent in the gym nearly every day, even after patrol. Your gym time only seemed to surprise them more, and after they told you about their gym schedule, you realised just how much time you spent in the gym, and the more you thought about it, the more you realised how lonely you were.

Kirishima seemed to catch on to your stress and smoothly changed the subject. After lunch, Bakugou drove you back to the agency, and Kirishima asked if you wanted to go to their place for drinks. “Sure, as long as I don’t have to carry you again,” you laughed. Kirishima turned and looked at you, his cheeks nearly as red as his hair. “Wait...you carried me?”.

Bakugou barked out a laugh. “Yeah shitty hair, she threw you over her shoulders and hauled your wasted ass back to the car.” Kirishima’s face somehow burned brighter and apologized profusely, but you waved it off. “Nah, it’s fine! Besides, if Bakugou wasn’t being such an ass I wouldn’t have had to carry you. I just got sick of trying to keep you standing upright while he snickered at me being short.” Bakugo scoffed. “Well you’re definitely not tall.” “I don’t need to be to kick your sorry ass.”

At that Bakugou went silent and Kirishima exploded in a fit of laughter. “Put a sock in it shitty hair! And you!” Bakugou glared at you in the rearview mirror, “I’m gonna beat your stubby ass next time!” You looked at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Ground Zero?” He growled at the mention of his hero name. “Yeah short stack, it’s a fucking challenge.”

Soon the car parked in the parking garage, and you all went up to their shared apartment. It was spacious, and very modern. Bakugou pointed out the bathroom and went to the kitchen to grab three bottles of beer. The three of you settled into the living room and the conversation went just like lunch did. Most of the questions were directed at you, and you answered honestly.

The questions were generic and friendly, what you like to do in your spare time (besides going to the gym), your favorite foods, colors, your likes and dislikes, your pet peeves. After the first round of questioning you’d only got through one bottle of beer. “Hey, what other kinds of alcohol you got?” you questioned Bakugou. He got up and listed his menu from the kitchen. You asked him for a glass of the cream liquor, and he returned with a glass filled with the liquid.

After hours of aimless conversation and a few more glasses, you found yourself slowing as the alcohol permeated your system. That was your signal to ask for a snack and water, and you stopped your intake of alcohol. Bakugou caught on to your self cut-off. “You don’t need to limit yourself. We’ve got a spare room if you need to stay the night, and if you need to call in tomorrow the agency has plenty of people to take over your patrol.” His statement shocked you, and you looked at him like he was crazy.

He spoke again, “If you’re cautious about sharing a place with two guys, Kiri’s nearly wasted already, he can’t do shit, and if I were stupid enough to do anything I’m sure you’d kick my ass before I got within a foot of you. As for tomorrow, both of us are off, and like I said, the agency is not short-staffed. And i’ve got meds if you’re worried about a hangover, and I don’t mind lending you clothes if you need them.”

You were stunned. Completely and utterly bewildered. But he made good points, so you decided to take up his offer to spend the night. “You know what, I’ll stay. But I'm gonna slow down with the alcohol, because hangovers are a bitch to deal with even with painkillers.” And with that, the three of you continued talking. Soon Kirishima passed out and Bakugou hauled him into his room. Surprisingly enough, when he came back out he actually engaged the conversation.

He asked about your fighting style, how you developed it, how long you trained. Most of his questioning was about your physical strength and tenacity, nothing personal. But then he asked why you spent so much of your time in the gym instead of with friends. And you answered honestly and bluntly, probably mostly because of the alcohol. “To be honest, I’m not much of a social butterfly. I don’t really have friends, because I don’t ‘make friends’ with people. In fact, you could call me antisocial. I don’t really like talking to people. I don’t speak unless spoken to or unless speaking is necessary.”

And he only dove deeper. “Why not? The world too scary from down there?” he teased. You laughed darkly at the comment, choosing to drain your glass of alcohol in favor of answering the implied question. He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“You avoided the question.”

“Well it wasn’t really a question, just a jab at my height again”

“Yeah, and you didn’t jab back.”

You huff, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.”

“Just drop it Bakugou.”

“I won’t drop it. Not until you give me some kind of answer.”

“Are you always this insensitive or is it just the alcohol?”

“Spill it (y/l/n).”

“Ugh fine! But I’m not giving you any details.” You crack your knuckles, take a deep breath, and a long drink of water before you talk again. “I used to like making friends. But all the friends I made turned out to be liars and fakes. I was used. A lot. After a while I finally had enough, so I stopped approaching people. I decided if people want to be in my life they can approach me. I got good at reading people, and I shut them out fast if they weren’t good for me.” You sighed, praying that was enough to sate Bakugou’s drunken curiosity. It wasn’t.

“And if people approached you with the intention of using you? If you read them wrong?” he pried. Screw it. You already spilled this much right? Might as well get it out. “I got really good at pretty bad things. I don’t usually read wrong, because I’m suspicious of everyone that walks into my life.” Internally, you prayed that was enough for him. “What kinds of bad things?” Well that’s unfortunate.

“Things like eavesdropping. Spying. Hiding. Manipulation. Lying. Deceit. Long story short, I have trust issues. It’s easier to keep people at arm’s distance than make friends that could hurt you.” At that, Bakugou goes quiet, his eyes studying your face. And you stare back at him, waiting for the judgement that comes with opening up to people. Waiting for the ‘maybe you should openup more’ and ‘just give people a chance’. But his answer is unexpected. His face softens ever so slightly as his eyes lock onto yours, his voice low, soft and somewhat comforting. “Sounds rough.” You look away, trying to keep your breathing steady, not giving tears the chance to fall, “I’m gonna turn in. Good night, Bakugou.”

Moving quickly, you disappear into the spare room and curl up into the bed sheets. Why the hell are you crying? You’d talked about this before. So why now, of all times, are you suddenly sobbing into your hoodie, clinging to it like your lifeline? You try your best to keep quiet, hoping the only other person awake doesn’t hear you. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you hear the door handle turn, and you freeze, closing your eyes and steadying your breath, going completely silent in mock-sleep. It was a technique you’d perfected long ago, turning off your emotionsin order to avoid confrontation.

You hear heavy footsteps, knowing who it is that just stepped in. He was the only other one still awake. You feel the bed behind you dip, and strong arms curl around you and turn your body, burying your face into Bakugou’s solid chest. His deep voice rumbles softly in your ear. “I know you’re not sleeping shorty. I listened through the door and heard you crying. Just let it out.” And before you can stop them, the tears you’d willed to disappear begin to pour down your face. So you sob into his chest, his arms tightening around you as your entire body shakes.

Soon you’re drifting into sleep, your body giving in to exhaustion. You’re in a deep sleep, and Bakugou stays there, holding you, until the last hiccups subside. He leans away to look down at you, and brushes strands of hair away from your face. “How long has it been since you’ve cried, princess? How long since you bottled up those emotions inside you?” He questions your sleeping figure. He presses a soft kiss into your forehead, gets up and tucks you under the blanket before silently leaving the room and going to bed.

When you wake up, your eyelids are heavy and swollen, making it hard to open them. You tenderly massage them open, remembering the reason they’re so puffy and sore. Despite the discomfort of your eyes, you feel refreshed and light, a weight lifted off your chest that you didn’t know was there in the first place. No, it was more like it’s been there for so long you’d gotten used to the pressure. Slowly, you sit up and blink away sleep.

You check the clock and it’s 8 am, a couple hours later than you normally get up. At the foot of your bed is a set of folded clothes. You quickly change out of the clothes you slept in, and into the t-shirt and sweatpants that you assumed were Bakugou’s. As expected, they’re giant on you, but they’re comfortable, and they smell like Bakug-- NO. Stop. You shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it came and go out to see if either of the guys are up.

You quickly get your answer when you see Kirishima lounging -- freaking SHIRTLESS -- on the couch. Talk about eye candy, damn. Like sure, his hero costume doesn’t exactly hide anything, but it’s different when he’s laying across a couch in nothing but gray sweatpants. Again, you clear the thoughts before they screw you over, and greet him. “Hey (y/l/n) how’d you sleep?” “Pretty good, thanks. I’m surprised you’re up so early Kiri.” He laughs at the observation, “Yeah. Bakugou got me up a little while ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” Yeah, that makes sense. You nod and make your way into the kitchen, and as expected, Bakugo is there.

“Good morning Bakugou,” you greet him. “Morning shorty. How’d you sleep?” You answer with the same reply you gave Kirishima a few seconds ago. You lowered your voice a little and leaned slightly toward him, “Thank you, by the way. For last night. I really needed that.” He just nods, focusing his attention to the fridge to find breakfast. Satisfied with that, you turn and head back to the couch and chill with Kirishima until Bakugou calls you to the table to eat.

You ask them what they do on their days off, and today the plan was just to stay in and lounge around the house, not doing much of anything and just relaxing. So, that’s what you did. As the hours passed, you found yourself liking the company of the two men, despite their imposing size. You didn’t feel small with them. But the question lingering at the back of your mind was why? Why were you so comfortable around them?

Thoughts buzzed around in your head like a hurricane, mixing with the doubt that they were in any way comfortable with you, and the fear that they were only using you for what men always seem to want. Soon you were telling yourself all the bad scenarios that would end in them leaving you all alone again. You didn’t even know them all that well, but you had become attached and were already bracing yourself for the inevitable loss of the two. The memory of crying to Bakugou last night swirled into your mind and wouldn’t disappear.

You were spiraling into a panic like you always did when people got close. But it was hidden, suppressed, contained. Whenever you panicked it never showed, the only telltale sign being your sudden need to scratch the soft flesh on the inside of your elbow. You hadn’t scratched in so long that any previous wounds had completely healed over, the only evidence left were small patches of discoloration, only evident if you stare long enough. That was about to change as your nails dug furiously while you stared off into space.

Kirishima was the first to snap you out of your spiral, grabbing your wrists and shaking you out, calling your name frantically. Your senses began to drift back, and the next thing you noticed was the sting on your forearms and the light stain of blood on your nails and fingertips. Your eyes drifted from your wrist up to your inner elbow, and you winced at the sight of blood seeping out of the shredded welts. It looked like it should have hurt more than it did.

“Bakugou! Get the first aid kit from the bathroom! (y/l/n)’s bleeding!” Kirishima called out to him. You heard quick heavy stomps and a curse from the blonde before he came over to examine your arms. He looked at you, and you looked back at him, still dazed from your inner turmoil. He knew from that look you were out of it. Instead he questioned the redhead to ask what had happened while he was in the kitchen figuring out what to make for lunch.

“I don’t know! I was watching tv and when I turned to ask her something she was staring off into space and scratching at her arms! She was bleeding before I even turned and I grabbed her before it could get worse.” Bakugou clenched his jaw and went to get a wet washcloth to clean up the blood. You were watching this all unfold before you, still not quite attached to reality. When he returned, he put the cloth on his lap and grabbed your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with calloused thumbs. He called your voice, attempting to ground you, and didn’t stop until you finally took a few quick breaths and blinked, answering him with a small ‘sorry’.

He grabbed your wrists, which Kirishima had already released, and spoke to you in a hushed tone, but still strong and intense. “(y/l/n) I need you to listen to me. Are you allergic to anything? Anything at all?” It took a few moments for you to regain your mental balance, but you shook your head. “No. Nothing.” He let out a soft breath and with that he began to clean and dress your arms, wiping away blood and cleaning your fingers and nails in silent concentration.

By the time the entire ordeal was over, the different sensations from the sting of the alcohol wipes to the cool ointment and the soft gauze had grounded you completely. As Bakugou went to put the first aid kit away, Kirishima reached out and gripped your shoulders, looking over your face and into your eyes with tender concern. “You okay little pebble?” He moved his large hands so they rested at the sides of your neck, his thumbs gently brushing at your jaw.

You blush lightly at the endearing nickname and the new sensation of his hands. Leaning slightly into one of his palms, you nod. “Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t really wanna talk about it, but I’ll be just fine. I just got distracted.” He looked at you with a face that said he didn’t believe your excuse, but he’d drop the subject because you asked him to. Letting his hand release you, he gives you a toothy, mischievous grin. He leans in closer to you and nearly whispers, like he was about to reveal the world’s biggest scandal.

“That was the most gentle I’ve ever seen Bakugou. Thanks for bringing that side out of him,” he says, flashing another smile. You giggle a little at the thought of the explosive male being gentle, not quite believing it if you hadn’t been subject to it. Then you remembered why he’d been there, tending to the wounds you’d subconsciously inflicted on yourself. Your eyebrows knitted together lightly, remembering the spiral and being shaken out of it by a panicked Kirishima. When Bakugou came back, you grabbed one of their hands in each of yours.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you say softly. After a few moments of silence, you decided you owed them an explanation of some kind. “And thank you for catching me. The scratching is a nervous habit when I’m stressed. I thought I got rid of it, but obviously I haven’t. It’s been a long time since it happened last, and it was triggered by my own drifting thoughts. It’s purely subconscious and I don’t realize what I’m doing until the pain becomes too unbearable and snaps me back to reality.”

By the end of your explanation, the two were looking at you with concern and understanding. Kirishima gently smiled, and Bakugou’s features relaxed, when you squeezed their hands appreciatively. The comfortable silence was suddenly broken by a low growl. You laughed at the comedic timing of your stomach and glanced at the clock. It was just after 12:30, and Bakugou got up to go make lunch. After eating you asked to wash your clothes, and asked to use the shower. Kirishima got you a spare towel and plastic wrap to cover your newly dressed forearms. Five minutes under the hot water and you were already feeling suffocated. The steam clouded your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You knew you had a problem with hot water. You always have. Jacuzzis were never relaxing for you, and you loved the cool water of the ocean the deeper you dove toward inky blackness. You turned the handle in the shower, letting the water turn cold. Your body shivered slightly from the sudden temperature change, but quickly relaxed as the cold water washed away all the stress from a few hours ago.

When you had finished up you went to go relax on the couch again, settling into the space between the two. Now with your mind clear, you began to wonder something that you probably should have wondered a while ago. How tall were they, really? They stood over a foot taller than you, so they had to be at least 6 feet tall. You looked from one to the other, your head swiveling back and forth, before you decided to just ask them.

Bakugou barked out a deep laugh, “Why you wanna know shorty? Finally realizing how scary we look from down there?” You rolled your eyes at him, but he answered anyway. “I’m 6 foot 4 (193 cm).” Kirishima looked down at you and beamed, “I’m 6 foot 6 (198 cm).” Bakugou scoffed, and you giggled at the blonde getting upset over height. Suddenly you bounced up from the couch and turned to the two, barely containing the thought that suddenly popped into your mind. Out of the two, the redhead seemed like the more likely to carry out your request, so you turned to Kirishima with wide excited eyes and a lopsided grin like a kid in a candy store.

“Can you carry me?!” you blurted out a little too loud. Kirishima blushed hard, and then you realized how ridiculous the request sounded and rushed to explain. “Sorry! That sounded weird right? I just wanna know what life looks like from that high up! I’m only 5 feet tall so…” you rambled a little before Kirishima laughed and stood up. “Sure little pebble.” He turned you around and squatted down, put his left arm around your waist and right arm against your thighs just above your knees and told you to lean back and sit on his arm.

Once you were seated snugly, your back pressed against his chest, he stood up and you gasped a little from the new angle. The floor looked so far away, and you knew that if Kirishima decided to hold you by your armpits your feet would dangle a foot from the floor. Bakugou looked up at you from the couch and scoffed. “Alright shitty hair, put her down before you drop her and she breaks her legs from the fall.” Your hilariously rebellious brain took that as a challenge. You smirked at Bakugou, his eyes daring you to do exactly what you were thinking. But before you could move he looked at the redhead behind you, and the arm around your waist tightened as he reached to grab his right bicep. He slightly activated his quirk, locking you in place.

“Aw, c’mon! You’re no fun! I’ve jumped from buildings before and landed perfectly fine!” You whined as you squirmed in Kirishima’s arms. Both of them laughed at your struggle, and once again, your brain instantly settled on ‘challenge accepted’. You quickly surveyed your surroundings, going about the best way to escape Red Riot without damaging any of the heroes’ property.

Before either of them could react, you materialized quirk-cancelling handcuffs and clasped one side around Kirishima's left wrist. The instant it went into effect, you brought your foot up and back down into the redhead’s stomach just hard enough for his grip on you to loosen up. When his right arm dropped to grab his abdomen, you slipped down along his body, grabbed the free cuff on your way down and snapped it around the leg of the coffee table, Kirishima landing flat on his ass with an ‘oof’.

Once again, Bakugou just stared in shock. You crossed your arms and smirked at him, “What was that about dropping me, Bakugou?” He was silent. Kirishima chuckled from his spot on the ground. “Damn, you’re a sneaky one little pebble.” You turned back around and took a deep bow. You materialized the cuff’s key and released him, storing them back in your quirk’s storage space. Finally recovering from his shock, Bakugou looked at the time and said, “Alright, short stack. Let’s go spar.” You turned to him and spoke what your brain had thought only moments before. “Challenge accepted.”

#kiribaku x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #kirishima bnha #bakugou bnha

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cherryobx · 4 years

Text

Cell mate for the night//JJ Maybank x reader

requested?: yes honey “jj meeting the reader in a cell as she's being interrogated and smart mouthing the police n introducing her to the pogues? only if you have time don't rush yourself🥺”

A/N: i LOVE the idea but i hate the way i wrote it, i still hope you enjoy it

summary: JJ meets you in the weirdest way possible

warnings: a few curse words i think, grammar mistakes and bad writing, incorrect stuff (i don’t know anything about what goes down while interrogating lmao and i 100% know they don’t put 2 people in the same cell but oh well it’s for the sake of the story)

WC: 1416

NOT MY GIF!!!

Yet again, JJ found himself in a cell at the local police department. He had been there quite a few times but not at a late time like this. It was almost 12 a.m when he was brought in.

He was there for a pretty stupid reason. He got into a fight at a party and the police were called. The other dude was let go. He was a kook. They never got into serious trouble. But JJ was kept there for the night. He was lucky they didn’t call his dad.

But what JJ didn’t know is that he’d meet the love of his life that night.

You were caught vandalizing a boat. But you, of course, called it art.

“I was just drawing pretty pictures! You’re gonna put a teenager into jail for drawing?” You scoffed in the backseat of the police car, rolling your eyes.

“No, I’m not taking you to jail. And you were not drawing, we both know it. It’s called vandalism.”

When you arrived at the station he got you out of the car and held a firm grip on your hand as he pulled you through the building, making his way towards the cell.

“Aw, man! I have to share my cell? What a shame,” you commented as he unlocked the only cell that was in that room and slightly pushed you in. The blonde boy, already in the cell, was watching your interaction with the cop.

“Come on, Steve! I didn’t do anything serious,” you complain, leaning against the cell bars, looking at the cop.

“Let me out. I promise I’ll be good. I’ll even be your friend if you let me out. We’re already on first-name basis.”

“No, we are not, Y/L/N.” The cop was looking through the drawers. He was probably looking for your file.

“So it all meant nothing to you? How we met on the dock? How we held hands for the first time?”

“Y/L/N, we didn’t hold hands. I was dragging you here. Please, let me do my job and tell me everything you did today. And be honest.” He took a seat behind his table and pulled out a pen to write everything down.

“I already told you in the car. Do I need to repeat myself? You have trouble with your memory or something?”

“Y/N/L,” he said in a warning tone.

“What?” you innocently asked.

“Talk.”

“I am talking right now. We’re having a conversation. What else do you want?”

He sighed, looking down at the papers in front of him. You could tell he was already done with your bullshit.

JJ was watching the interaction between you and the cop, smirking. He didn’t even know you but he already liked you. Not only for your good looks but the way you were talking to the cop. You didn’t care that you might get into more trouble than you already were. He admired your personality.

“Y/N, this is your last warning. Talk.”

“Take off the handcuffs and then we’ll see,” you tried to compromise with him. To your luck, it worked.

After getting free from the restraints on your wrists, the cell was locked again and the cop took his seat once again.

“Now, tell me everything.”

��Well, I was in a spectacularly good mood today. I was feeling artsy, you know. And the boats looked really boring,” you explained, emphasizing on the word ‘really’.

“Go on.”’

“And then I decided to make them a little less boring. That’s it. There’s nothing really. So, when will I get out?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“You’re gonna leave a kid in a cell with a random stranger for the night?”

He got up from his seat and put the papers back in the drawer where he took them from in the first place.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, chief. I’ve always wanted to sleep on a cell floor. You’re fulfilling my dreams right now.”

“You’re welcome.” He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him with a loud thud.

“Ouch, a random stranger?” JJ asked as if he was hurt by your words.

“I said what I said,” you said, sitting down and leaning your back against the bars of the cell so you could face him.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“I’m JJ. And I just have to say, you’re really good at pissing people off. You got him off of your back in 2 minutes. I have been here for the last 2 hours, talking to him.”

“Well, JJ, what did you do to end up here on this fine night?”

“I got into a fight,” he answered.

“Ooh, a bad boy. What a rebel,” you sarcastically said, making him laugh.

“Are you new here? Cause I haven’t seen you around.”

“Oh, I’ve lived here my whole life. Most of the time I’m just doing my own thing.”

JJ patted the spot next to him on the so-called bed, silently telling you to go sit next to him. Well, it kind of resembled a bed.

“You’re gonna get sick if you sit on that cold concrete floor.”

“So nice of you to care about my health, stranger,” you chuckled and got up from the floor and joined him on the bed.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and let out a tired sigh. JJ leaned his head against yours and you sat in silence for a while. It was a beautiful sight, honestly.

You had known JJ for only some minutes but you felt sort of connected to him. Like you had known him for years instead of minutes. And that feeling made you comfortable around him. So comfortable that you fell asleep on his shoulder.

You woke up at the sound of a door slam, followed by a “Good morning, lovebirds!”

In the middle of the night, when you were sleeping JJ leaned against the wall behind him and placed your head on his lap so you could sleep more comfortably.

“Good morning, Steve! So nice of you to finally come back. I missed you.”

“Y/L/N, stop. It’s too early for that.”

The cop came over to the cell, taking out his keys and finally freeing you.

“Maybank, you’re free to go.” JJ just nodded and sent you a smile as a goodbye.

“Y/L/N, we have some unfinished business. I need you to sign these documents. I’ve contacted your parents about the fine.”

“Fine? What the fuck? These it’s not spraypaint, you dumbass. It can be washed off easily.”

“I know. And you’re going to be washing it off tomorrow morning.”

“Then why do I need to pay the fine?”

“Because.”

You huffed in annoyance and took up a pen from the table and signed the papers placed in front of you.

“You may go now.”

“Thanks, bestie, see you soon.” You waved at him as you walked out of there.

“Hopefully not,” he mumbled but you still heard.

“Ouch. I heard that, you prick.”

When you exited the police station JJ was waiting for you. He was sat on the stairs, his back turned to you.

“Waiting for someone, Maybank?” You ruffled his hair as you walked past him. He got up from the stairs, following you.

“Yeah, just this girl I met at a police station cell.”

“She must be amazing,” you jokingly said, flinging your hair over your shoulder.

“She is indeed. And I was wondering if she’d like to meet my friends? I feel like they’d like her.”

“Why do you think so.”

“Cause she’s really cool. I like her.”

“You do now, huh?” you asked, turning around and facing him, smirking.

“I do.”

“Then she’d love to meet your friends. Take her to the right now. She’s busy tomorrow. She has to wash the paint off of a boat tomorrow,” you said, still talking about yourself in third person point of view.

And he did take you to meet his friends. They really liked you, as JJ had expected. You became best friends with them and started hanging out with them every day.

A few weeks went by and you fell for JJ. You had already started liking him the night you met but as time passed, you really fell for him, and you fell hard.

Love strikes you at the weirdest times and in the weirdest places. And you were okay with it. You wouldn’t change anything about the way you met JJ.

taglist: @teamnick @www-imbored-com @delightfullynlove @prejudic3 @afterglows7b-tch13 @tomhardybby @ad-infinitums @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @ilovejjmaybank @mdlyncline @allycat449-blog @abbiesthings @teenwaywardasgardian @copper-boom @canibeoneofthepogues @fttayla @ifilwtmfc @bedazzledbanks @jeyramarie @joshy-obx @pink-meringues

PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK!!!! (it helps me get better at writing)

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j-ut-da-e · 2 years

Text

Bitter Taste

2. Big Happy Family - Part 2

Summary - BD Han was born on October 1st, 1989. They were just a nurse refusing to use their full powers before they became best friends with Klaus Hargreeves. After driving him to his father’s funeral, their life capsizes when they meet the rest of the Hargreeves family.

Pairing - Klaus Hargreeves x NB!OC

Word Count - 2603

Warnings - heavy swearing, talk of and actual drug use, trauma, talk of abusive parents

A/N - idk what to say, but it's about to ramp up, everyone. lmk if i missed any warnings <3

Masterlist

The prosthetic eye that Five wanted information on ended up not belonging to anyone. It hadn't even been manufactured yet. Which meant I just gave the performance of my life for nothing. Well, for twenty bucks. Five is sulking as we leave the building, we just laugh and relive what just happened in that office.

“Well, honey, being in a relationship with you seems exhausting,” I laugh, “I think it’s time for a divorce.”

Klaus puts his hand over his heart in mock horror, “How could you? With our little miracle on the way!” we hold each other's gaze for a moment before bursting into laughter again.

“Wait you guys aren’t- you know what doesn’t matter,” Five grumbles, with a sweep of his hand, “None of this matters.”

“What's the big deal with this eye, anyway?”

“There is someone out there who's going to lose an eye in the next seven days. They're gonna bring about the end of life on this Earth as we know it.”

I step in front of him and hold my hand out to stop him, “Hold on, we’re all gonna die in seven days?! And you’re only telling us now?!”

“Yeah, can I get that 20 bucks, like, now, or what?” Klaus asks from behind us.

“Klaus!” Five and I shout in unison.

“What?” he whines, “I’m quite hungry, still gotta eat for seven days, y’know. Tummy’s a rumblin’”

“You’re useless. You’re all useless!” the boy yells, throwing my hand off his shoulder.

“Listen, old man!-” I start before Klaus comes between us.

“Woah, woah, woah. We all need to lighten up here, huh?”

Five sits on the steps, defeated, “Hey, you know, I've just now realized why you're so uptight,” Klaus explains, sitting next to his brother, I follow him shortly after, “You must be horny as hell! All those years by yourself. It's gotta screw with your head, being alone.”

“Klaus!” I hiss, shoving him.

“Well…” he looks into the sky, reminiscing, “I wasn’t alone.”

“Oh?”

“Pray tell.”

Five sighs, “Her name was Delores. We were together for over 30 years.”

“Aww, a little Mrs. Five,” I coo, reaching over Klaus and shaking his leg.

“Thirty years?!” Klaus's eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head, “Oh, wow. God, the longest I've been with someone was...I don't know, three weeks.”

“Was this that one guy?” I ask.

“Yes, he made the most fantastic osso buco…”

My face falls, “He's gone.”

We both look up and see Five waving at us from a cab, “Hey, hey, hey! What about our money!”

I rub my face and groan, “What a little shitstain.”

As soon as we returned to the Academy, Klaus and I changed into more comfortable clothes. I swiped some of his clothes for a change and he was just wearing shorts. Using whatever I could find, I made some simple fried rice for us. I couldn't stand to look at the blood dried on his face anymore so I got up, abandoning my food. I gather up some supplies from bathroom cabinets and under sinks.

“This won't hurt at all, okay sweets,” I douse a piece of gauze in alcohol and then press it to his scalp.

“Ah! You lied!” he screams, flinging rice across the room.

“Yeah, you big baby. You wouldn’t have let me do it if I told you it hurt,” I say, holding his head in place.

He pouts, “You are so nurse Ratched, babe.”

“At least I’m helping you, yeah? You’re just as much of a baby as when we first met.”

☂

Bitter cold, snow, and ice are what anyone would want after a ten-hour shift. When I left the hospital I cursed myself for walking that day. To be fair to me, it didn't start snowing until three hours into my shift. I had no problem staying warm, just forcing my blood into my extremities when they got too cold. Walking through the snow-covered ice was just always a slog.

I didn't live far from the hospital, only a 15-minute walk. It's not like I had to worry about being mugged either. Though I hated using my powers, I have to admit they're almost a godsend. They helped me with my job, I didn't have to worry about my safety, and I can really help people.

Walking down an alley, I barely hear some shuffling behind some boxes. Sighing, I turn to the left wall. As I shuffle through the random boxes, I find an unconscious man in barely any clothes. He was wearing a patchwork coat with fur, but it wasn't enough to shield him from the biting wind.

His hair was short, messy. Black was smeared around his closed eyes. I check his pulse on his neck, weak, thready. His skin is freezing when I place my ear against his chest, heart barely beating.

This was not good. I start checking over his body for any blood. His knuckles are bruised and several cuts cover his hands. I take some blood onto my finger and swipe it over my tongue.

Overdose. God, how many drugs was this guy on? Is he crazy? Through his ears, I can hear so many overlapping voices. He doesn't even feel the cold, but he's alive, only if barely.

Setting back on my heels, I begin chest compressions. After 2 minutes, I press my ear to his chest again. The man's body jerks under me and I shoot up.

He gasps for air and coughs, laughing. Maybe he is crazy? "Hey, hey! What's your name, honey?"

His green eyes meet mine, "Good morning, cruel world," He starts laughing again, wheezing.

"Sir, I'm gonna call the hospital, alright. I work there so I'll take you-" I start, taking out my phone.

"No!" He flinches when I jump, "sorry. But no, no, no, I was just there, they won't take me back,"

His eyes were pleading with me and I could feel the fear and shame in him, I sigh, "Okay, okay," I put my phone away and rub my face. What am I gonna do with this guy? "Okay, can you stand?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

We stand together and I put my arm around his shoulders when he stumbles, "We're gonna go to my apartment, alright? Can you tell me your name? Maybe how many and what kinds of drugs you took?"

"Oh, yeah, babe. It's been a real wild night if you know what I mean? Klaus, by the way. Did you ask?"

During our walk back to my apartment, Klaus, as I now knew him, never stopped talking. Only when he fell down the stairs was he silent, and even then only for a moment. It seemed he was having a one-sided conversation. Nothing he said made any sense.

"O-kay, buddy, sit here on the couch, I'll be right back."

"You're a very trusting person, you know," he mumbles, flipping himself over the back of my couch.

I come back with several blankets, "Trust me, hun, I manhandle guys three times your size every day. I wouldn't worry about me here."

He swallows audibly, "Well, that's- that's good to know, uh…"

"BD Han. I'm a nurse at St. Agnes's hospital. Nice to meet you, Klaus. Now wrap these blankets around yourself."

Not long after I wrapped the last blankets around him, Klaus fell asleep. And he called me trusting? I started an IV with lactated ringers I brought home from work. I hung the bag on my coat hanger. Every few minutes I reached into the cocoon to check his blood pressure and heart rate while I cooked.

When he finally woke up I was on the floor, eating and watching TV, "Morning sunshine," I say, hearing him groan, "I hope you're hungry."

"Are you drugging me?"

"No, you cretin. It's saline with electrolytes," I get up and make sure his IV site is still secure with the tape. I turn him so he's facing my coffee table where a bowl of congee, complete with eggs and bacon, is waiting, "Now you're gonna eat or you're not gonna leave."

"Huh? Wait," he shakes his head, "I get that you're a nurse, but why are you helping me? I'm just a junkie you found on the street."

"Well, you're right. I'm a nurse, but I know what it's like to be on your own."

His eyes go to the bowl of food, "What is this? Smells heavenly," he doesn't even wait for me to answer before digging in.

I sit next to him, "Congee, it's a rice porridge from China, where I'm from. I make it when I'm feeling bad…or when I want to relapse."

"No, I'm not gonna ask that," he waves his hand, "This is great, BD. My mom made me a lot of good food, but this is like… you know when you're floating in the bath and it makes you feel like you're a soup?"

I laugh a little too loud, "Yeah, actually. I love being human soup."

"Huh, yeah? So which one of your parents sucked ass? 'Cuz for me, it was my dad."

I blink, "Where'd you pull that from?"

"Oh, you know," he waves his hands around, spoon still in one, "We seem fairly similar, I used baths as escapes sometimes, and then I had one of those uh, thoughts. You know, I just figured you'd do the same, also no one with a normal childhood says 'human soup' with a smile."

"Huh…" maybe he isn't a psycho "As convoluted as that train of thought was, you're right, Klaus. And it was my mom."

"Any juicy details?"

"Just a few years after we moved here, she kicked me out. I was homeless, had two jobs, nursing school, then I got my job at St. Agnes's."

"Damn, I thought my dad was an asshole," he laughs dryly, "Well, I think it's time for me to scoot-"

I slap his hand away from the IV, "Eh! You're gonna wait for that bag to empty and you're gonna finish that food."

"Geez, nurse Ratched, alright."

After about an hour, the IV bag was empty and so was Klaus's bowl. I take out the line and slap a bandaid on him. He whines and yanks his arm away.

"Oh you big baby, I didn't slap you that hard," I slip my gloves off and sit back down next to him. We talked almost the whole time we sat together. About life, our shitty parents, just trauma dumping on each other and laughing about it.

"Now, Klaus," I start, pulling out two different syringes from my nurse bag, "These are Narcan and adrenaline. And if I find you on the street again, this," I hold up the Narcan, "is going up your nose, and this," now the syringe of adrenaline, "is going straight into your heart. Got it?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time, nurse Ratched," he smirks.

☂

We sat on the second-floor landing, legs between the railings. Klaus was laying down, cigarette between his lips yet again. Hanging my head between the railings, I sigh.

"We can't just sit here."

"Sure we can, babe," he says, taking a drag, "Five is 'handling it', remember?"

I groan loudly, leaning back, "Don't you care?" I rub my face, "We all might die in a week."

"Meh," he shrugs.

"You're impossible."

He turns to me, "But irresistibly lovable and cute."

"Give me a smoke," I say, holding out my hand, my other arm covering my eyes.

"If you really wanted to do something we could just… I don't know, raise some hell," I can smell him blow out smoke, my body aching for something.

"Klaus," I lean up on my elbow.

"Trash the academy, take a nice bath…oh we could always-"

"Klaus!" He looks over at me with big eyes, "Cigarette."

"That's not what I was gonna say, sweet BD," he sits up, facing me.

I narrow my eyes, "Klaus, give me a damn cigarette."

He takes a long drag, finishes his, and puts it out on the floor between us, "Sorry, fresh out."

The idiot grins widely at me, "I could strangle you."

"Oh please, have at it, babe," I lunge at him as he starts laughing and screaming.

I got over my anger quickly, walking away. Of course, Klaus followed me like a lost kitten. He suggested we raise "hell-lite". The "lite" being us staying sober.

Taking some pain and anti-nausea medication did help with my withdrawal symptoms. I knew the sickness would still get to me for at least a few more days. But by then, the whole world might be dead.

Time passes and Klaus and I find ourselves in Allison's room. Klaus is behind me, digging in the closet, throwing clothes onto the bed. Sitting at a little vanity, I hold up different earrings to my piercings.

"Hey BD, check this out," Klaus strikes a pose as I turn around, wearing a flowery skirt and white crop top.

"Wow-ee," I get up, "Hey, I wanna dress up too," I strip off the mesh shirt I stole from him and pull out a flowy shirt with a pattern reminiscent of watercolor, "Eh?"

He regards me for a moment before rummaging through the closet again, producing velvet, burgundy flared pants, "Here."

"Oh, these are so soft!" I slip them on, tucking in the disconnected sides of the shirt, and hold my arms open for Klaus to judge.

He strokes his chin, in mock thoughtfulness, "Yes, yes. Very gender," we both laugh.

☂

I never had the typical family experience. To be fair, neither did Klaus, but he had siblings and "parents" and Pogo. And this mansion to run around in. I had to grow up quickly, so I think Klaus and I get along so well because he helps me let out my repressed childish side. He helps me let go and be what I actually want to be.

We found feather boas of all different colors tucked away in Allison's room. Taking them, we started running through the hallways. Sliding down banisters, trading, and changing clothes, and when I started to slow down or stop laughing as much, Klaus always found a way to keep me going.

Only Grace and Pogo seemed to be at the mansion, but they didn't seem to care about the noise we were making. It didn't matter anymore that we could all die within a week, so long as we were having a good time, right? Normal people wouldn't agree, but we were never normal.

After running through every room, raiding the kitchen, and sufficiently tiring ourselves out, we made our way back to Klaus's room. The haze and warmth was welcome. I sat on the floor, now wearing the white crop top and no pants. He was above me on the bed, brushing out my hair.

I’ve curled up again, my eyelids are heavy, "It's almost midnight, babe, do you wanna head back to your place?" He asks, starting to put my long hair into two French braids.

I yawn, "No, we can stay here tonight. You're gonna want to come back at the ass-crack of dawn again anyway."

"Cool, cool,” he pauses, “Wanna go swimming tomorrow?"

I want to argue with him about how it's below freezing outside, but it doesn't really matter does it? Thinking hard for a moment, I realize. Wouldn't I follow this psycho anywhere? And I know he would follow me. At this point, was there really any other option than to be together?

"Yeah, sweets, we can go swimming tomorrow."

#klaus #klaus x oc #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #fanfiction #tua #original characters #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #umbrella academy #fanfic #tua s1 #tua rewrite #nonbinary

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andie01writing · 3 years

Text

Fling

“Gypsy?”

Turning from monitor I find Trent. “Hey,” I smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Will ya ask Pete to call me when ya see him tonight?”

“What makes you think I will see Pete tonight?”

His brows furrow. “Because he said he’s spending the night with ya.”

“Did he now?

“His exact words were he is getting his Gypsy therapy.”

“Well if I see him tonight, I will give him your message. Goodnight Trent.”

For the past seven months, Pete would seek me out at least once a month. Always leaving me a trembling, bruised mess from his teeth and tight grip and dreaming about the next time. Each time I build the wall around my heart a little higher. As much as I try to avoid my budding feelings for the man they are starting to haunt me during our time apart. “It’s time to move on with my life,” I mutter to myself.

“You talking to yourself, Sweetheart?”

Turning I find Enzo smiling at me from down the hall. “Actually, I am,” I return the smile. “Who else is gonna listen to me?”

“If you are desperate enough, I got two ears,” he grins approaching.

“It’s that mouth in the middle running nonstop that’s the problem,” I smile.

“You got jokes?”

“That’s the kindest of my jokes involving you.”

“Yeah?”

“You have no idea,” I smirk.

“Why don’t I take you out and you give me the full rundown.”

“You couldn’t…”

“What is going on here?”

Turning, I find Pete. “I’m having a conversation. Trent needs talk to you. Why don’t you run along and find him?”

“Gypsy, Love…”

“She said move along,” Enzo snaps.

“I don’t need you to speak for me,” I growl. “I don’t need either of you. Goodnight…I don’t even know what to call the two of you.”

“Gypsy.”

“Goodnight Pete.”

“Gypsy,” he snarls as I make my way to my rental.

“I can’t do this tonight, Pete. Find someone else to spend the night with,” I mutter reaching for the car door.

“What’s that supposeda mean,” he growls holding the door shut.

“Exactly what I said. You know I had no problem being your occasional fling until I found out you’re bragging about it… About your Gypsy therapy. That did something to me, maybe it changed something, I don’t know but I don’t like it. So find someone else to warm your bed for a few hours tonight, I’m sure you have a harem somewhere. Goodnight.” I yank the door open and slide into the driver’s seat, locking the door behind me.

“Go away,” I growl as the knocking starts up again.

“I’m not going away until ya talk to me,” Pete’s voice calls over the knocking.

I glare at the door.

“I got nowhere to go, Love. Open up!”

Grumbling I pull myself from the bed. “What do you want? I told you…”

His mouth devours mine as he presses me back into the room.

“No,” I growl, stepping away from the man. “I’ve already told you, you want this tonight find someone else. I can’t.”

My back meets the wall, his body covering mine. His hand coming up, his thumb pressing under my chin until my eyes meet his. “Why?”

I open my mouth to reply when he cuts me off.

“I’ve never bragged about anything. The lads asked about my change in attitude, I informed ‘em about my Gypsy therapy. Never what that entails, just that ya help me. What happens between us stays wit us.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Believe whateva ya want, Love,” he shrugs. “I’m tellin’ the truth though.”

“Whatever. I still can’t do this anymore. My feelings have changed. My needs have changed.”

His eyes watch his thumb tracing along my jawline. “Enlighten me.”

“What?”

“How have yer feelings changed?”

“I’m not content with meaningless sex any more. Not that it’s not enjoyable, I just need more.”

“Like?” His fingertips brush across my cheeks.

“Like things you aren’t willing to give me.”

“Like what?”

“Like a relationship. Good morning texts. Good night texts. Discussions about our days. Back rubs after a long day. Emotional support during the hard days. Cuddling during a night at home. Hell, quiet nights at home in general. Everything else that comes with a relationship. Things that you as a twenty something have no interest in. Which is fine, I don’t need you to do anything for me except let me go.”

“Yer worried ‘bout our age difference,” he breathes, brows furrowing.

“It’s part of the problem. We are at two different points in our lives. There is nothing wrong with that. It’s time that we start acting like our ages.”

“No,” he growls lowering his mouth to mine again.

“Pete,” I warn.

“I’m not lettin’ ya go,” he mutters against me. “I love ya.”

“What,” I gasp.

“Ya heard me,” he chuckles nipping my bottom lip.

“You will say anything to get laid.”

“I have neva lied to ya,” he sighs pressing his forehead to mine, eyes staring straight into mine.

“Never?”

“Neva.”

“Say it again,” I whisper, a smile pulling at my lips.

“I love ya and I really need to kiss ya.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Ya won’t shut up,” he smirks. “Ya never fucking shut up.”

“You love it,” I snicker.

His lips cover mine and the tension leaves both our bodies. I pull him tighter against myself, needing to feel the solidness of the man. “One thing,” he pants as we break apart.

“Hmmm,” I hum, my fingers twisting into his t-shirt.

“I don’t cuddle.”

“That’s it? Out of all that I said?”

He nods against me.

“I’m sure you can think of something to replace it,” I smirk. “I love you enough to give you time to figure it out.”

He tugs me away from the wall and over his shoulder.

“What are you,” I start, giggling as my back hits my mattress. “Oh,” I sigh as his teeth graze my nipple through the thin fabric of my t-shirt. My fingers thread through his hair holding it away from his face to watch his mouth work the peak before turning his attention to the opposite side of my chest.

“I wasn’t aware you had a gentle setting.”

I feel him chuckle. His rough fingers slide under the hem of my tee.

“Didn’t know ya wanted gentle,” he mumbles, his hands sliding my shirt slowly up my torso. His mouth reattaching to my chest as the shirt leaves my body. “Isit what ya want? Love?”

“Now who needs to shut up,” I chuckle.

“Maybe I need ta find something else to do wit my mouth,” he smirks, sliding down my body. His mouth attacks my lower half, sucking at my cloth covered clit. “I got ya,” he groans as I squirm beneath him, pawing at the waistband of my panties. Peeling the material slowly down my legs, he kisses his way back up before parting my slit with his tongue. I throw my head back as he circles my clit setting a slow and methodical pace.

“Pete, please,” I beg as he brings me to the edge over and over without any release.

“Whadda ya need Love?”

“You,” I pant. “Release. Both.”

Sliding back up my body, he strips his jeans. Hesitating between my thighs, his cock brushes my entrance. “Gypsy,” he breathes.

Pulling him down, I devour his mouth tasting myself on him as I wrap my legs around his waist answering the unasked question. He groans as he fully sheaths himself inside me before resuming his previous slow rhythm with his hips. His forehead presses against of mine, his eyes boring into mine.

“I love seein’ ya so close,” he growls. “I love seein’ ya come undone even more.” His hips snap into me.

Within minutes I am doing just that. “Fuck Pete,” I cry, eyes clamping shut as pure pleasure washes over me in waves.

“Look at me, Gypsy,” he growls.

I lock eyes with him, his signature sneer in place as his own release overcomes him.

“Pete,” I mumble as he lays panting beside me.

“Huh,” he grunts.

Reaching over I intertwine our fingers, “Is this okay?”

He nods.

“I’m trusting you, Pete. Don’t hurt me.”

Bringing my hand to his lips, he presses a kiss along my knuckles. “Neva, Love.”

#wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #pete dunne #fling series

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