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goldentournesol · 3 years

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Not in That Way

*gif not mine, found on Giphy*

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer’s TA falls in love with him.

Length: 3.3k

A/N: VAGUE SPOILERS FOR S15 AHEAD! AGE GAP (10 years). Read at your own risk everybody, very angsty. NO PART TWO’S WILL BE WRITTEN. enjoy :)

masterlist

It wasn’t hard, really. It wasn’t hard at all to fall in love with Spencer Reid. In fact, it was the easiest thing she’d ever done. It came so easily that it shook her to the core.

Really, what’s not to love? He is a badass FBI agent with a heart of gold, he can literally recite almost any book to her on demand, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he looks like he’s been sculpted by a coveted artist.

She didn’t know though, she didn’t know how easy it would be to be completely enamored by someone. She didn’t know what kind of life she’d be stepping into when she’d applied to become his Teaching Assistant. She’d heard from her peers that there was a part-time professor who had been looking for a TA. She signed up without a second thought, desperate for any kind of connections that could possibly help her with her PhD in forensic psychology. When she’d learned that he was a certified genius whose other job was to be a real life superhero, she hoped and prayed he’d pick her application.

She was over the moon when she found out that he did indeed pick her out of all the students who had applied. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. She’d seen his university ID photo on the website and thought he was attractive, but seeing him in person was almost magical. The camera definitely could not quite pick up on the subtle gold flecks in his irises or the silky sheen of his hair. And that smile. She was sure she could drown in it forever.

After being chosen and going through a number of interviews, Y/N learned just how meticulous Dr. Reid was in everything he did. She helped him create the syllabus as well as build his lesson plans. Over the semester, she would go over his grading since he had the tendency to give students the answers instead of making helpful comments on the papers to make them think and reflect. She’d also learned about his particular aversion to technology, which meant they had multiple meet-ups when he was in town just so she can walk him through certain systems, like the university’s portal system as well as the email. She also showed him how to pose his answers as questions instead, explaining that sometimes, he shouldn’t answer their incomplete thoughts because it's an undergrad class. Also, with his unpredictable schedule concerning the FBI, she would often step in and teach his class whenever he was away on a case.

They’d become good friends outside of his office and classroom, probably closer than they should have been. He was just too likeable and she was always eager enough to hear what he had to say, thus a bond between them was born and reinforced each time they saw each other. He was so thoughtful, it shocked her. Once he’d heard her mention that she used to love collecting keychains when she was a child, and made sure to get her a new one from each state he’d visit thanks to his trips around the country. Her previous boyfriends were beyond disappointing in comparison to say the least, and they weren’t even dating. He knew her favorite coffee order by heart and often had it ready with a fresh croissant whenever they met at the university’s coffee shop and if they were meeting at his office, he’d take them to go.

It was little things like that that made her fall in love with him. And she knew, it’s not like she didn’t, she just chose to hide it with every cell of her being. Crushing on your professor is pretty common amongst university students, but being a TA and being desperately in love with your professor was a whole different kind of story.

She already admired his intelligence in class immensely, however hearing his stories from his time out in the field made her heart grow three times the size of normal. His stories ranged from being about geographical profiling, to action-packed anecdotes, and even funny moments with the team.

Was she constantly impressed by him? Yes.

Was she constantly worried about him? Also yes.

Which is why she’d practically made him adopt the habit of texting or calling her every time he landed in DC. They’d been chasing this unsub, Lynch, for months on end and he’d informed her that they were finally close to getting him. The last time they talked two days ago, he was feeling confident. But then it was just silence. He hadn’t texted her, he hadn’t called her. She didn’t even know if he was back in DC. Her mind took her places she didn’t want to go. He’d gotten so good with keeping her updated that this silence was turning her blood into ice water.

She’d left 11 missed calls so far. But she didn’t give up, she was determined to hear from him. The next morning she tried again, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut in a silent prayer.

“Hello?” Someone finally picked up, a woman.

“Hello? Who is this? I’m trying to reach Spencer Reid.” Y/N said into the phone, voice clearly on the edge of tears.

“Oh you must be Y/N Y/L/N. You’re Spencer’s TA. I’m Penelope Garcia, I work with Spencer.” She said into the phone evenly, calmly.

“Yes, I am. Did something happen to Spencer? He hasn’t contacted me in two days. Why do you have his phone?” Y/N worried into the phone. She could hear every heartbeat, loud and clear.

“Spencer is in the hospital. There was an explosion yesterday and he hit his head really hard. We found him passed out in his apartment this morning.” Penelope answered. Y/N’s eyes widened and she felt the tears slip from her eyes quickly. The panic began to set in.

“C-could you please text me the address?” Y/N managed to whisper into the phone through her tears.

“Of course, sweetie. He’s going to be okay. His mother is here, I’m assuming you know about Diana?” She asked tenderly.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Y/N said, already rushing to put on shoes and looking for her keys.

The drive to the hospital wasn’t long, but Y/N felt like it took ages to get there anyway. Her breathing was uneven and her eyes were already swollen as if she’d been crying for days. There was a bad, bad feeling reverberating around in her chest. She’d somehow floated through the hospital like she was running on autopilot.

She’d found the room and met eyes with a blonde woman adorning two identical blue puffs in her hair. She would have thought they were adorable if she wasn’t panicking her heart out. She spotted Spencer laying on the hospital bed with oxygen tubes hanging around his ears and inserted into his nose. The sight made her stomach lurch. Something about the way his usually pink lips were drained of their color made her want to sob until tomorrow came. Beside the bed on the other side sat Diana Reid, a tall woman with short blonde hair. She’d seen her in photos before. Diana merely stared at her with a hint of a smile.

She stepped in the hospital room, swallowing down the bile in her throat, “H-Hi, I’m Y/N.” She waved tentatively into the room, almost unable to keep with the tensity of the two women’s gazes. She wiped at her eyes and stood at the foot of Spencer’s bed, “Is he going to be okay?” She asked, staring at the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest. That way it was reassuring to watch him. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood.

“The doctors are hopeful.” Penelope replied, assessing the young woman who just entered. She was much younger than she previously thought she was. Although she had no idea what to expect when it came to Spencer’s academic life, he was always surprising her.

Diana sat still and silent in the hospital chair, a pensive expression draped across her features. Penelope sensed a tension in the room and looked towards Diana, “Hey, Diana, would you like to come with me down to the cafeteria to fetch some jello for Spencer to eat when he wakes up?”

Y/N sent Penelope a sidelong glance filled with gratitude. She tuned out the sounds of Diana telling Penelope the story of the first time Spencer had jello as they exited the small room. She immediately pulled up the chair closest to his bed and grasped his hand tightly. She let out a shaky breath at the contact. Cold, his hand was so, so cold.

“Oh, Spencer, you scared the shit out of me.” She whispered, pressing her lips to the back of his hand quickly, “I could have lost you today...and-and I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself if that would have happened. I know you probably can’t hear me, but I still have to say what I’m going to say. I have to. For myself. So here goes,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, “there’s nothing that scares me more than losing you, and that thought alone terrifies me.” She sniffled, wiping away her tears, “What I feel for you terrifies me, Spencer. I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone so deeply until I met you. And...I don’t know what to do with all this love, I want to hand it all to you, let you see yourself the way I see you, but I can’t do that. I can’t.” She held back an incoming sob, whispering, “I can’t ask that of you.”

She bowed her head and rested it along his forearm, her silent tears soaking through the hospital sheets. The fear of grieving for him outweighed the fear of rejection. She’d never forgive herself if he died without knowing how big of a space he occupied in her heart. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to tell him to his face while he was awake, but this was a start. Solidifying her feelings was a start. And man, were they solid.

A few minutes later, her phone began to ring because of an endless stream of emails. There was a class today, and she’d have to teach it. She went back and forth from her phone to Spencer’s face and released a deep, heavy sigh from the pit of her chest. She stood from her seat and hovered her hand over his cheek before allowing it to rest timidly on his skin.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you soon.” She paused, chewing on her lip, “I love you.” She said softly, fresh tears making their way back to the brim of her eyes. She pulled away from him and exited the room swiftly.

Spencer’s bleary eyes opened slightly to just barely catch the sight of her disappearing into the hallway from which she came. Seconds later, Penelope and his mother came marching in, seeing his open eyes.

Penelope set down the cups of jello nearby and Diana made her way to her son quickly. He could barely keep his eyes open for long enough. It was a small achievement but they both held onto it dearly.

Hours later, he blinked his eyes open again as he heard his mother and Penelope conversing about his favorite type of cloud. Diana leaned over her son’s bed and set a comforting hand on his shoulder. He stared at her fondly.

“Am I alive or is this heaven?” He asked, smiling slightly.

“You are very much alive.” Diana smiled broadly at him.

Garcia had since gone back to the office to assist the team in finally closing the Lynch case. Spencer was just waking up from yet another snooze.

Diana looked at him closely, sometimes he felt she was the profiler in the room, “She told you didn’t she?”

Spencer rubbed at his eyes slightly, “Who are you talking about?” He yawned.

“The pretty girl who was in here earlier.” Y/N’s name had slipped her mind the second she said it. Spencer stared at his mother incredulously, shocked at just how clear her mind was at the moment. Diana took his silence as an affirmative and nodded at him.

“You should tell her.” She said definitively. For a moment, he doubted if he understood just what she meant, but he understood.

“How did you know?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I told you, a mother always knows. And I saw the way she looked at you. She deserves to know, Spencer.” Diana said.

She deserves to know.

The thought tumbled around in his head for days after he was discharged from the hospital. He was on medical leave for the moment but as soon as he could see straight, he took the train to her apartment. He’d been there a few times, they’d had a few casual dinners there while grading papers together or coming up with future lesson plans. His hands were on the verge of trembling as he knocked on her apartment door. The numbers nailed on the door mocked him as he stood waiting for her to open.

She frowned at the sound, she wasn’t expecting anybody. She pushed her laptop to the side and stood to straighten her pajamas, making her way to the door. She ripped it open as soon as she saw who it was.

“Spencer! Oh thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been worried sick about you.” She threw her arms around his middle tightly, making him stagger a bit from the impact, but he enveloped her in his arms anyway. The contact was very welcome.

“Hey.” He smiled into the hug, his heart spilling with gratitude over being worthy enough of her attention. They separated from the embrace and she stared at him with a look resembling wonder.

“What are you doing here? I thought you still had a few more days off until you had to get back to work. Come in, come in.” She moved aside to let him in. She also moved a plethora of blankets and textbooks off the couch to make space for him to sit.

“I know, I’m sorry for kind of coming over unannounced. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.” He eyed her matching set of cartoon character pajamas as he took a seat, making a mental note that it was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. She blushed under his gaze but shook her head nonetheless.

“Oh come on, you know you’re always welcome here. Can I get you something to drink? Some water or coffee, maybe?” She asked.

“Water’s fine.” He smiled, leaning back into the couch. She nodded and made her way into the kitchen. Spencer’s shoulders untensed for a moment and he hadn’t realized that he’d been carrying so much of his worries in them around her. She came back with the water and took a seat next to him, angling her body to face him. He muttered a thank you as he sipped from it, unsure how to approach the situation.

“I wanted to thank you. For coming to the hospital to see me. That meant a lot.” He met her eyes and saw a flash of panic dance across her irises. How did he know she was there? Penelope probably told him, right? He couldn’t have heard her.

“Of course, Spencer. It’s the least I could do.” She smiled sweetly. His heart cleaved in his chest as he stared at the sweet girl in front of him.

What did he ever do to deserve her friendship?

He fidgeted with the glass in his hands, a silence beginning to drape over them.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, noticing his fidgeting.

He took a deep breath and set the glass down on the coffee table in front of them. He turned his body to face her and reached for her soft hands. Her breath hitched at the intimate contact, butterflies erupting in the pit of her abdomen.

“You are a remarkable person, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I see the absolute worst that humanity has to offer on a daily basis, but you have made it your mission to make my life easier. And you do, honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He said with soft eyes and a half-laugh. She smiled back, she could practically feel the rush from his words directly in her brain.

“And it is an honor to be loved by you,” his voice hesitated to say the word, his eyes darkening with regret as he continued. Realization snapped into place for her as he said, “but I can’t give you what you need.”

He had heard her. He knew.

Her blood ran cold as she tore her hands away from his, as if the skin on his hands had the ability to burn her. He frowned as he watched her frantic eyes search his for any semblance of dishonesty. Her throat closed up over all the words that fought to surface. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came up. Instead, tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.

“What?” She whispered, brokenhearted and momentarily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He tried to console her but she was past the point of consolation.

“I-I understand.” She nodded painfully, tears cascading down her face before she even got the chance to wipe them away, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s completely unprofessional.” She swallowed an incoming sob as best as she could.

“No, I’m glad you told me, but if I’m being honest, I knew long before it. This isn’t about professionality, I don’t care about that. But I care about you, a lot.” Spencer said softly, staring at the young woman in front of him. She shook her head, utterly devastated and doing her best to shield herself from his gaze. Thoughts escaped her as her heart took a deep-dive to settle in her abdomen.

“And I thought I should let you know how I feel. I love you, Y/N,” he paused, “just not in that way.” The soft voice he used was completely useless against the harshness of the words.

She tried, she tried her absolute hardest to suppress the incoming sob, but those words just about broke the dam. She rubbed at her eyes, nodding. He tried to set a comforting hand on her shoulder but decided against it. She took a deep breath and stood up from the couch.

That was enough humiliation for the day.

“No, no, I completely understand.” She said, voice wobbly and eyes ringed with red. He frowned up at her at the sight of her being so upset.

“Will you be okay?” He asked as he stood up from his seat. She laughed slightly, this man had devastated her, broken her heart with a few simple words and still wondered if she’d be okay. That’s Spencer Reid for you. The question made her heart ache and long for him more. His simplicity and good intentions made her question why the world wasn’t kind enough to let her have him.

“No, I won’t. And I probably won’t be okay for a long time. Because I will keep meeting men and keep comparing them to you so, until I stop doing that, no, I won’t be okay, Spencer.” She answered with a surprisingly stable voice. He frowned and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, stepping forward to cup her cheek and gently use his thumb to wipe the remainder of her tears. Her glassy eyes bored right into his, her lips wobbling at the contact. She then closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into his palm, soaking in his warmth one last time before he tore himself away from her completely and showed himself out of the apartment without looking back.

That was when she allowed herself to fall apart. He heard her heart wrenching cries from behind the door and hesitated, but decided to walk away anyway with a chest heavy with regret.

She will never be enough for him, she thought.

He will never be enough for her, he thought.

#im sorry #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #professor reid #spencer reid fluff #mgg

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nishiisenpai · 4 years

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birthday forgotten - tsukishima kei x reader

REQUEST: “Hi babes! Another Haikyuu writer here! I saw you posted about doing requests and I was hoping on giving you one! Maybe an angst with fluff at the end fic where it’s the reader’s birthday (who is the karasuno manager and is also dating Tsuki cause I love that man) and they (the team) all forget, and when they find other later they feel bad because she has always made their birthday’s special. Then ending in fluff of them trying to make it up to her. Sorry if it’s not good I usually write and don’t request lmao. Hope you see more of your stuff in the future! - @nataliahaslosthershit “

A/N: I seriously can not thank you enough for sending in this request(deadass cried about it for a whole 10-15 minutes LOL - because i thought this blog was gonna flop ._. ) but thank you again for sending this in and i hope i didn’t disappoint you or anything!

WARNING: Angsty but with a fluff ending!

WHO: Tsukishima Kei x Karasuno Manager! Female Reader

“Morning Tsukki!” you smile at your salty dinosaur who had just entered the classroom. You followed him to his desk where he sat down and placed his bag, taking a book out.

“Morning.” Tsukishima said while giving you a small grin and paying attention to his book.

“Whatcha up to?”

“Reading.”

“Oh- uhm, do you want me to stay here or like?” You said as you were about to get up and leave though Tsukishima’s hand held onto your wrist.

“No no, it’s okay. You can stay here.” He looked at you with his norm straight face and you nodded sitting back down.

“I heard it’s a special day today...” you hinted. Today was your birthday and you were really hoping your salty dino got the message.

“Oh really?”

“Yup!” your eyes beamed with sparkles as Tsukki didn’t pay attention. “Hey are you ignoring me?”

“What? No! I was listening still. Keep talking.”

“Oh uhm, well today is a special day! A very very special day.”

“Is that so?” his eyes stayed on the book as he turned the page.

“Yes it quite is.”

“Well if you’re going to say something that mentions about practice then I think you’re mistaken.”

“No, silly! It doesn’t have to deal with practice. Something more exciting!”

“What is there to be excited about?” ouch.

“Well I don’t know, it seems that I am forgetting something...” you mumbled but screamed in your head to shout out the answer to your question. As much as you love this dinosaur, he sure is dumb to recognize the importance of your birthday.

“Well all I know is that today’s a normal and regular day, and there isn’t something special that I remember happening today.” suddenly the words Tsukishima was saying faded into a fuzzy noise. No longer were you able to connect back or hear anything around you, all you heard was the sound of your heartbeat slowly beating and your hurried breathes.

“Y/N? Hello? Are you okay?” Tsukishima snapped you back into reality.

“Huh? Oh yeah... I’m fine. Class is about to start, I’m going to head back to my seat and I’ll see you later yeah?”

“Okay, see yah.”

Class ended awhile ago and it was break. You had just left the washroom to see Kageyama and Hinata together bickering.

“What are you two boys bickering about, today?” as you walked up to them.

“Kageyama is calling me an idiot.” Hinata shot a glare at him.

“Again?” you chuckled.

“If you hadn’t ruined my favourite sweater Y/N got for me on my birthday by puking on it I wouldn’t be holding such a grudge.”

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY SORRY!” Hinata jumped up and down.

“It’s alright, Kageyama. I’ll get you another one on your birthday!” you said with a small smile and Kageyama’s eyes lit up.

“Wait actually??? Th-Thank you.” he gave you a small bow and you laughed.

“WHAT? NO FAIR-“ Hinata started saying but you interrupted him.

“I’ll make your birthday even more special, Hinata.” That’s all it took to have stars shine in Hinata’s eyes.

“NOT FAIR-“ you probably shouldn’t have mentioned or said that as they continued to bicker.

“Hey- BOYS!” you stopped them and they apologized. “Get to class, you’ll be late.”

“Yes, Y/N.” as they trudged back to class. Hinata had turned around.

“Oh by the way, Y/N.” maybe he would remember or say something about your birthday.

“Yes, Hinata?” you waited for the words to come out.

“Are you ready for-“

“Yes! I am so ready and excited!”

“See Kageyama, I told you Y/N would be excited to see our quick.” wait-what? I thought he would say something or remembered.

“Tsk, whatever.”

“See yah Y/N!” Hinata waved. You tried not to look upset and waved back with a small smile.

“Bye, Hinata. Bye Kageyama. I’ll see you two at practice.”

You knew these two boys would be forgetful. What type of hope did you clutch onto? If Tsukishima didn’t even remember your birthday, how would the others?

“Oh hi, Y/N!” Sugawara had said.

“Hey! Where are the others?” you said as you saw Daichi, Asahi, and Tanaka.

“They’re just coming.”

“Ahh I see.”

“So are you doing anything after practice?” yes, I’m going to celebrate my birthday by myself.

“Uh, just studying for an upcoming test. How about you Suga-san?”

“Good luck with that! And uhm.. I don’t think I have anything in mind today. Maybe just take a shower and sleep when I get home.” Suga laughed and you chuckled a bit before putting a small smile hiding away the pain.

Even Suga forgot your birthday... This is honestly one of the most heartbreaking thing because he’s never the type to forget things. Especially when it comes to birthdays...

“Takeda-sensei, I think I’ll head out first. I still have homework to work on.” You said.

“Okay, thank you Y/N for coming.” He said before turning around. You went towards the door to open it quickly as tears were streaming down your cheeks already and you didn’t want to be seen with such emotion displayed on your face. You accidently hadn’t seen where you were going as you bumped into someone.

“Oh Y/N, are you okay?” Kiyoko asked. You wiped the falling tears from your eyes quickly and inhaled a breath of air before facing her.

“Huh? Ah, Kiyoko-san, yes. I am alright. I’m just going to leave early because I have homework to finish.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yep! See yah!” As you quickly turned away from her and walked your way home continuing to have tears stream down your face. The slow mind process of doubt, and overthinking started playing in your head as to how this could have led you to such event.

“Alright everyone, good job today! Make sure to rest up well, eat a well balanced dinner and get enough sleep.” Coach Ukai had spoken before continuing to speak, “Where’s Y/N?”

“She said she had homework left to do.” Takeda-sensei spoke out.

“Shoot, I wanted to gift her this.” Coach Ukai was holding a bag of your favourite snacks from his store.

“What for?” The team questioned.

“For her birthday... Why else?” Coach Ukai looked at the team in confusion looking at the faces of shock and guilt before widening his eyes.

“Did you idiots forget it was her birthday?!?!?!?” Coach Ukai slightly raised his voice making everyone panic.

“Wait- what? It’s today?” Tsukki checked his phone and spat out his water.

“Holy shit, I’m a bad boyfriend.”

“Tsukishima! How could you forget!?!?!” Yamaguchi yelled at his best friend before slapping him on the back of his head.

“So that’s why she was crying...” Kiyoko spoke out and everyone froze.

“S-She was crying?” Tsukishima’s eyes enlarged before grabbing his bags and heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Daichi asked stopping at the door.

“To go apologize to my girlfriend and to spend the rest of the day with her, why else?” As Tsukishima stared down at his captain.

“We should all go and make it up to her. We as a team forgot so we shall go do what’s right.” Sugawara had spoken as Tanaka and Nishinoya had aggressively nodded their heads.

“Let’s go to Coach Ukai’s shop to purchase more snacks and drinks.” Hinata said while looking at Kageyama. “I’ll beat you there first.”

“Not unless I do it first!” As the two started sprinting towards the doors and to the shop.

“You sir,” Tanaka and Nishinoya said while looking aggressively into Tsukishima’s eyes, “Need to be a better boyfriend or we’ll take your girl.

“As if you can.” Tsukishima smirked heading outside before dashing to your place.

You were laying in bed after finishing your studies and staring at the ceiling thinking about how today turned out.

“Am I not important? Do they even know when my birthday is? I mean I had mentioned it before. Does Tsukki even know it’s today? Am I not special enough?” all these clouded thoughts were blocking out the noise around you but suddenly your phone vibrated next to you snapping you out of your thoughts. The caller ID showed a picture of you and Tsukishima on your second date at the park mindlessly being slight idiots at night.

“Hello-?”

“Open your door.” Tsukishima’s voice said.

“Huh, why?” As you got up and walked towards the front door.

“You’ll see.” The call ended and you stared at your phone questioning what Tsukishima meant.

You opened the door revealing your boyfriend.

“What are you doing here at this time?” You said looking up at your boyfriend and tilted your head in confusion.

“Hold on, you can come in guys.” Tsukishima mentioned and you cocked your eyebrow at him.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” Hinata came in giving you a plastic bag. In came the rest of the team and you were suddenly now holding plastic bags and poorly wrapped gifts in your hands as each of them said happy birthday to you.

“What is this..?” you chuckled nervously looking at them all for an answer.

“We felt really bad for forgetting to say a happy birthday to you. Mainly that tall blonde over there.” Tanaka said and Tsukishima sent a glare to the older boy.

“Aww thank you guys... I will admit I was a little upset, but that doesn’t matter anymore because you guys are here now! What are we waiting for? Let’s get this party started!” you exclaimed and their moods brightened.

“I’ll go set up the board games.” Daichi said with Sugawara following behind. The rest of the boys went to set up the snacks meanwhile you went to your room and placed the gifts there before heading to the kitchen to get some cold drinks.

“Y/N...” Tsukishima said out of nowhere scaring you.

“Tsukki, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” you said as you placed a hand over your heart chuckling.

“I’m sorry.” your chuckling stopped.

“It’s okay, babes. You didn’t know.” you said placing the drinks onto the kitchen counter.

“No, it’s not okay! Today is significant and an important day. I am so stupid for forgetting that it was your birthday.” Tsukishima looked down. This wasn’t like your boyfriend. The Tsukishima you knew wasn’t all apologetic and or so soft?

“Tsukki, it really is okay...” you went over to him and stood right in front of him before wrapping your arms around your salty dino.

“But it’s not.” he said mumbling. You sighed before bringing your hands to Tsukishima’s cheeks pulling him down a bit and bringing your lips together for a light kiss and going back into a hug position.

“Baby, it’s okay. I already forgave you for coming and you guys making it up to me by purchasing all this stuff and bringing all this stuff too. I promise.”

“Really? Cause I feel like a shitty boyfriend right now.”

“You will if you keep being all pouty and soft. That reminds me, since when were you so caring and soft?” you push your head away from Tsukishima’s chest giving him a puzzled look before he placed his hand on the back of your head and pushed you back to his chest.

“Shut up.” he grumbled while blushing and you giggled.

“WOAH- TSUKISHIMA’S BEING ALL CUTE IN THE KITCHEN WITH Y/N!” Sugawara said telling the group and from there started chaos.

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flightfoot · 3 years

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Forgetting Enemies, Rediscovering Friends - Ch. 1

AO3

Thanks to @khanofallorcs for betaing! Set in @buggachat Bakery Enemies AU, before the wine arc.

The morning had started off fine. Marinette had been working on a new design to showcase her talents. A black dress with green trim—great for any occasion.

(Only the most keen-eyed observers would find the small paw print embroidered on the inside of one of the sleeves)

Adrien was hard at work in the kitchen, as usual. Probably plotting how best to steal the Miracle Box, or make her meet the same fate as his mother or—or some other nefarious end. Yes. He must be. No one could be THAT nice, not after everything he went through. It had to be fake.

*beep beep*

Marinette blinked. Her stomach twisted. “The Akuma Alert app? But it can’t be- unless-”

A video popped up, showing the new threat.

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news! Past Pirate has made the trip from the U.S. all the way to our fair city of Paris. With Ladybug and Chat Noir still missing, we can only hope that other superheroes arrive soon, before everyone in the city forgets who they are.”

Ah.

Not an akuma or sentimonster, then. Just a random supervillain that thought the absence of Miraculous wielders made Paris an easy target.

Somehow that didn’t make her feel better. At least if it was a sentimonster, she might’ve been able to catch Adrien in the act, prove that he was evil, and recover the lost Miraculous. This- this she could do nothing about.

She was useless.

*beep beep*

A text warning popped up, issuing an evacuation order. A giant orb had been spotted near Collège Françoise Dupont, one that looked very, very similar to the one Oblivio had threatened the city with, all those years ago.

Marinette suspected it served the same function.

She needed to get out of there, NOW.

Her parents were out at dinner on the other side of the city, so hopefully they’d be safe?

The only ones here were her and-

Oooooh crap.

Her and ADRIEN.

...He’d be fine on his own. Right? He got to work every morning after all. He could evacuate on his own.

But his apartment had to be close by, close enough that it’d be in the evacuation order, too. He’d have to go to some public place for cover.

During a supervillain attack.

With a lot of people scared and worried and having flashbacks to what his father did.

...and with him having one of the most recognizable faces in Paris.

Crap.

She was gonna have to take him with her, wasn’t she?

She hurried downstairs. Adrien was already putting on his coat, getting ready to run out the door.

“Wait!”

He froze. An instant later, he turned around. “Marinette? You’ve gotta get out of here, the supervillain-”

She nodded. “I know, come with me.”

He blinked. “Are— are you sure? You don’t need to put up with me just because we’re both heading out, I can go a different direction if it’s more comfortable for you.” His voice dropped. “I know you probably have some trauma associated with what my father did and this situation isn’t helping.”

Why did Adrien have to be so unfailingly nice?!

Marinette shook her head. “My parents would be devastated if something happened to you and I- I don’t want you hurt, either,” she got out in a rush. “I don’t want you out there alone.”

Adrien stared at her, startled. His eyes softened. “Thank you, Marinette.”

Her face heated up. “Po Noblem!” She shook her head. “I—I mean, no problem! Anyone would do it.”

He shook his head. She didn’t have time to think about that before she grabbed his hand, running out the door.

And into a purple beam blast.

-------

Blinking rapidly, he looked around.

He appeared to be on a street… somewhere and—

A purple blast hit a few feet away from his head.

Right. Get out of here first, figure out what was going on second. Maybe he’d find someone else someplace AWAY from the scary light blasts.

He attempted to run down the street and away from whatever the purple blast thing was.

“WAAAAH!”

Attempt at running: failed. Attempt at finding someone else: success!

He winced. “Sorry I dragged you down. Didn’t realize I was holding your hand.”

The girl nodded, eyes wide, still on top of him where she landed. “What’s going on? Who are you?” Her breath caught. “Who am I?”

“I… have no idea.” He admitted. “I don’t remember anything before a minute ago.”

Another purple blast fired. He flinched. “I don’t think sticking around here is a good idea. Let’s get somewhere a little safer first, THEN try to figure out who we are.”

She nodded, getting up and pulling him to his feet. She didn’t let go of his hand. “This way?” she asked, pointing away from where the blast had fired from, down the street the direction he’d tried to run.

He nodded.

They booked it, running in unison, automatically adjusting their gait to exactly match their companion’s.

After they’d gotten some distance away, they slowed down, huffing and puffing from the exertion.

“You think that’s far enough?” the girl asked.

He shrugged.

She started digging through her purse. He blinked, tilting his head. “What’re you looking for?”

She didn’t look up, sticking her tongue out the side of her teeth, appearing to concentrate even harder.

It was adorable.

Huh?

Well, he HAD been holding her hand when he woke up…

“This!” she said triumphantly, holding up her ID card.

He shelved his previous line of thought. For now, at least.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Nice to run into you, Marinette!”

She giggled. “I enjoyed falling for you too, uh…”

His face heated up. “Let me check.”

After looking through a few of his coat pockets (one of which held some cheese. Did he normally like the gooey food that much? It didn’t look that appetizing to him right now) he at last located his own ID. “Adrien Agreste.”

“You have anything else that’s useful?” Marinette asked.

“Let’s see…”

After emptying out his pockets, he concluded he had his phone, ID, that piece of Camembert, a debit and credit card, and 70 Euros.

“Well, at least we’re not memoryless AND broke,” Marinette commented.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Well…”

She proceeded to pull out several cookies, a sewing kit, a first aid kit, duct tape, an umbrella, a few items that he felt he should recognize that Marinette hastily stuck back in her purse, saying they weren’t relevant to this situation, and a small black box with an intricate red design on the top, as well as her phone and wallet.

Adrien looked critically at the mass of items. “I don’t think all that should be able to fit in that tiny purse.”

Marinette looked at the objects she had pulled out. Then looked at her purse. Her brow furrowed. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Especially that umbrella. Doesn’t matter how I put that in, it shouldn’t fit. Plus that box- that wasn’t there when I first started rooting through my purse, I’m sure of it!”

He tilted his head. “It wasn’t?”

“I’d shoved everything around a few times,” she explained, “trying to see to the bottom of it. The first few times I didn’t see it, though there WAS some black fabric in the way - that was the umbrella - and once I pulled the umbrella up, well, there it was, lying beneath it.”

“Anything inside it?”

Marinette opened it.

“Nothing,” she said, disappointed. “Just two indentations where something used to be.”

Adrien peered at Marinette. “Maybe it’s the casing for your earrings?”

She startled. “My earrings?”

Reaching up a hand, she felt her ears. “Maybe? Let me see.”

Taking them off, she set them in the box. They fit perfectly.

They also looked different.

“Spotted earrings?” he wondered. “They didn’t look like that before.”

Marinette blinked. “They didn’t?”

He shook his head. “They were black before, not red with black spots.”

“Maybe the lighting just made them look weird?”

“Maybe…”

He looked more critically at Marinette’s ears. “Wait. Something’s weird here, too.”

“Here?”

“With your ears.”

“What’s wrong with my ears?!” she said, sounding on the edge of panic.

“Feel where the earrings were, where you took them out of.”

She shot him a puzzled look, but complied, feeling her lobe, then her entire ear. “Where were they?” she wondered. “I can’t find the holes.”

“Exactly. I can’t see them either.”

“Hold on, let me try something,” she said.

Picking up the earrings, she put them back. “Oh that is WEIRD.”

“How’d you do that?” Adrien asked. He still hadn’t seen the holes she was using, not until the earrings were in again.

“I just let my muscle memory do the talking. I wasn’t threading them through a hole or anything, I just stuck them where I felt like they should go and then— then they were there.”

“They’re back to looking black, too,” Adrien said, squinting.

“Wonder whether your earrings are the same?” Marinette said, looking at him - or rather, at his ears.

Adrien felt his ears, his fingers hitting metal. “Huh. Didn’t know I was wearing them, too. Let’s give it a try.”

He wasn’t quite as fast at removing them as she was, needing a moment to unhook and align them so they’d slide out smoothly. He held them out to her. “Did their look change?”

She shook her head. “No, they still look the same.” Looking closer at his ears, she noted, “I can see the holes left behind, too. I don’t think your earrings have the same weird properties as mine.”

“A purse that can hold more than it should, earrings that change color and leave no mark— maybe it’s magic?” Adrien wondered.

Marinette opened her mouth, looking somewhat indignant - then closed it. “I… can’t come up with a better explanation. Don’t know why I’d have some magical objects, though.”

“Maybe you’re a witch?”

“Do those even exist?”

“No idea.”

“It doesn’t feel like the right term. These are just magical objects, right?” she said. “I might not have any magical powers myself.”

“You think anything else has magical properties?” he asked.

“Let’s see…”

After messing about with the duct tape, wallet, and umbrella for awhile, they concluded that, if they had magic, they were keeping it well-concealed. Unless “closing unexpectedly” was the umbrella’s magical power.

“Any of your things secretly magic?” she asked him. “We checked your earrings, but what about everything else?”

He tried stuffing things into his coat pockets, but they only held as much as one would expect them to. The wallets didn’t have anything special, and the only thing ‘magical’ about the cheese was how much it stank outside of its plastic baggie.

As he was putting it back in the bag (trying not to gag), he glanced at his hand, noticing a silver ring.

Figuring he might as well, he slid it off.

Light ran over it, turning it from silver to black, with a green pawprint on its face.

“You have one, too!” Marinette cried happily.

He nodded, feeling a warmth in his core. Whatever was going on, he was the same as her. “Guess I’ve got magic, too.”

“Think they do anything except change color?” Marinette asked.

Adrien shook the ring for a minute. “If it does, I have no idea how to activate it,” he concluded.

“Let’s move onto our phones, then,” Marinette said, turning hers on. A lockscreen popped up.

She hesitated for a moment as Adrien winced. “That suc-”

Marinette smiled deviously. “Not so fast.” She breathed on it, showing the most common pathways her finger traveled. Swiftly she followed the path, unlocking her phone.

Adrien’s heart went pitter-patter. “Brilliant!” he told her, copying her idea and unlocking his own phone.

“I don’t have a lot of contacts,” he told her, turning it to face her. “Only four people.”

G, Chloé Bourgeois, Sabine Cheng, and Tom Dupain. That was it. “You’re not even in here,” he told Marinette. “Though I’m guessing Sabine and Tom are your parents, at least?”

She scrolled through her own contact list. It was far more extensive than his, easily over a hundred contacts. “Yeah, they are,” she said, comparing the picture for ‘Maman’ with the one Adrien used for Sabine, and the one she used for ‘Papa’ to the one he used for Tom.

“Maybe we should call them?” he suggested. “Especially since they know both of us. Maybe they can help!”

She nodded, clicking on the Call button for Maman.

“Hello?” she asked, sounding nervous.

“Marinette? Are you okay? Is Adrien with you? I hadn’t checked my phone until just now, I had it on silent. You’ve evacuated from the bakery, right? Without Ladybug around to fix everything, who knows when everyone hit by Past Pirate will recover their memories!”

“I’m— well I’m mostly fine, Maman, I got away from the purple blasts. I’m guessing those were from Past Pirate? Adrien and I lost our memories, though. What should we do?”

“Oh. Oh NO.” Sabine sounded horrified. “That’s very, very dangerous, especially for Adrien.”

“Why is it dangerous for me?” he asked.

“Oh, Adrien! Glad to hear from you,” Sabine said, relieved. She hesitated, appearing to choose her words carefully. “Your father—he did some very bad things. Things that people blame you for, despite having no part in them. You’re very recognizable, too. If people see you, they could react badly.”

“People blame Adrien for what his father did? That’s terrible! Why would they do that?” Marinette said, flabbergasted.

Sabine suddenly sounded very awkward. “Well, dear, sometimes people have trauma and it just latches onto innocent people, even when it’s undeserved. They’re wrong, but I wouldn’t judge them too harshly.”

Marinette still looked indignant. “That doesn’t excuse treating him badly!”

Sabine coughed. “Yes. Well. Just be careful. Maybe try to find a disguise for Adrien if you can, before wandering into public areas? Until you’re back home and this crisis is abated.”

Marinette muttered quietly, “He shouldn’t HAVE to.” More loudly, she told Sabine. “Yes, Maman. I have everything I need for that.”

Adrien could practically feel Sabine beaming through the phone. “You’re always prepared, aren’t you?”

Marinette smiled. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon, with my memory intact.”

Stowing her phone, she reached for her sewing kit. “One disguise, coming right up!”

#forgetting enemies rediscovering friends #bakery enemies au #ml fanfic #Miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette

61 notes · View notes

peach-pops · 4 years

Note

Hi! Can I requests a HC with Suga, Kageyama, and Noya where they go into Ukais store and they completely fall head over heels for the girl behind the register ( she can be related to Ukai or just works there for him)

This is my first request! Make sure you guys like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed it and requests are open!

Suga, Kageyama, and Noya develop a crush on Ukai’s new employee

➣Sugawara

One day after practice, Suga finds himself heading to Ukai’s store with Daichi and Asahi because they’ve been craving those steamed pork buns and since it was Daichi’s turn to pay for food, it was an offer he couldn’t refuse

He’s definitely an advocate for “Free food is the best food”

#sugardaddydaichi

The boys walk into Sakanoshita and Suga is the first to notice a new girl standing behind the counter who is reading the newspaper with her legs propped up just like a mini Ukai

Instead of a cigarette between her lip, she has a stick of chocolate pocky in her mouth

Suga thinks you are SO cute and he can’t stop staring at you but once you look up from your newspaper to lock eyes with him, he averts his gaze and continues to walk forward, only to bump into one of the shelves by accident

“ Woah, you okay suga?” Daichi asks as he turns around to face his friend

“ GAH I’m fine!”

Suga hears you let out a small giggle as you went back to your newspaper and pretended to act uninterested in the boy, even though you knew fully well that he was reallllllly cute

Daichi is a smart boy and he can clearly tell that Suga is completely flustered over you but decides to say nothing for now while Asahi is deciding between which flavor drink he should get

He’s oblivious, aren’t all aces?

The boys grab their buns and head over to the counter where you greet them extra politely because you are an underpaid customer service worker who is just genuinely nice a cute boy is in front of you and you wanna make a nice impression

“ Okay, you’re all set, is there anything else I can do for you guys?” You asked sweetly as Daichi looks over to Suga who’s cheeks are getting flushed

Daichi gets Asahi’s attention and nods over to the door,” We’ll be outside Suga, don’t take too long.”

Suga’s eyes practically are pleading with Daichi saying “ Please don’t leave me I think I’m choking on my own tongue” but Daichi just laughs and walks out with a confused Asahi trailing behind him

Suga just tries to calm himself down because he knows the goal is to make a nice impression and hopefully set up a date so he can see you again

“ From the way you were sitting, I imagine you’re related to Ukai? ”

Suga immediately regrets this approach because now he sounds like a weird stalker but you don’t think anything of his question

“ Mhm, I’m his niece Y/N, how do you know him?”

He replays your name out loud and for some reason it makes him smile even more

You being Ukai’s niece doesn’t really make Suga panic even though the thought of crushing on his coaches niece seems like he is crossing some sort of moral line

Suga tells you that he plays volleyball for Karasuno and that your uncle is also his coach which lights up your face

“ No kidding, what a small world! I would love to come out and cheer you on. When’s the next game?”

Suga short circuits for a second because you specifically said you would cheer him on instead of the team as a whole

“ S-sure! There’s one next week if you want to come .ANDmaybewecangetsomethingtoeatafter!”

“ Sounds like a plan, its a date,” You smiled as Suga nods excitedly before rushing out of the store without another word

“ Did I just hear her say that Ukai is her uncle?” Asahi asked as the three of them walked down the street

Suga nods and blabs on about his interaction with you but Asahi and Daichi look at each other the whole time as they think of how screwed Suga will be once Ukai finds out

➣Kageyama

Kageyama never really heads to Ukai’s store unless he’s with his teammates but one day when he’s out jogging, he forgets his water bottle so he decides to stop by Sakanoshita to grab a drink since he knows he won’t be able to run much longer in this heat

He steps into the store and he’s blessed with not only the blasting AC but the sight of a girl around his age refilling the drinks in the fridge

Kags can only see the side of your face but even then, he feels his heart skip a beat

He’s never felt anything like this before so he’s convinced he’s about to have a heart attack but then the unsettling thought hits him as he’s just standing there in the middle of the store with his wallet out

“ She’s really pretty” and Kageyama doesn’t even realize he’s said this OUT LOUD until you turn around and give him a shy smile

“ Um, thank you, you too”

Kageyama wants to just run out of the store because he is so embarrassed and he can feel the back of his neck and ears heat up as he contemplates leaving

And that’s EXACTLY what he does!!!!

The dude just leaves without buying anything and decides to just run back home because he is MORTIFIED

You’re kinda bummed out because “damn, I scared another one off this week” but you realize that he dropped his wallet as he was sprinting out so you knew he’d be back

You didn’t look through his wallet, all you did was put it in one of the drawers at the register and continued on with your day as usual

Just kidding, you totally looked through it and founds his Karasuno school ID and when you saw he was a first-year too, you mentally gave yourself a high five

Kageyama on the other time is freaking out because not only did he lose his wallet, he is so sure that the last time he had it was at Ukai’s store which means he has to see you again

He decides to wait until later that night to show up because he thinks maybe Ukai will be there instead-but sure enough when he shows up, you’re still sitting behind the counter and this time, he can see your whole face as you’re doing homework

And his heart stops when he sees that you’re wearing a Karasuno school uniform because he could’ve sworn he would’ve recognized someone as pretty as you around the hallways

He’s never felt this way about any girl before and now, he slightly regretted not listening to Tanaka’s advice on how to pick up girls because he was felt so lost on what to do

You could feel someone staring at you but when you turned your head up, you found yourself almost glad to see him

“ Oh hey Tobio! Did you come back for something?”

His brain short circuits for the millionth time because hardly anyone calls him by his first name and he figures you probably went through his wallet

Kageyama sheepishly nods as he heads over to the counter. You don’t even understand how hard it is for Kageyama to even talk to you

Cause granted, he’s talked to girls before like Kiyoko and Yachi but never a girl he was interested in because until now, he never even found himself attracted to girls

You hand him his wallet as you defend yourself, saying that you only went through it to find his address so you could return it after your shift

he apologizes over and over again on how much it was a burden for you to keep his wallet for the day

All you could do was laugh at how absurd this whole situation was and your laugh made Kageyama tense up because even your laugh was attractive

He made sure to keep that in his head though

Kageyama doesn’t know why his feet are practically cemented in front of you but he just doesn’t want to leave

He makes up any excuse and looks down at your math homework and thinks of an idea

“ Oh, do you need help with that?”

And Kageyama feels so stupid because why the hell did he just offer to help you with math homework when he only has one working braincell

You look down at your homework and back up at him,” You know this stuff?”

Kageyama looks at you before swallowing hard and shakes his head,” No…I’m actually really bad”

You giggle at his attempt at trying to be helpful but you nod back towards your homework,” Well don’t worry, I have math under control...If you want I can tutor you sometime?”

Kageyama almost says yes way too quickly before he pretends to think it over in his head and happily accepts your offer

You smile back at him before grabbing a sticky note and scribbling your name and number on a piece of paper,” Call me whenever, yeah?”

You know that face Kageyama makes where his smile is super weird and squiggly? Well thats the exact face he has as he takes the piece of paper and tells you goodnight

And you can bet everything you have that he immediately rushes home and pulls out his homework just so he can have an excuse to call you up

➣Nishinoya

Nishinoya frequently visits Ukai’s store even if it’s out of the way because he likes to see a familiar face

And also tries to bargain a “family discount” to which Ukai always denies him

So one night Noya feels a sudden craving for literally anything that isn’t within his own house and he just decides to go drop by Sakanoshita to annoy Ukai out of a free bag of chips

“ Oi Ukai-” Noya stops in his tracks when he sees a girl around his age carrying a big box of products out from the back of the store

He is completely SMITTEN for you right away and in the back of his mind he’s like Kiyoko who?

He had been going to Ukai’s for a long time but he had never saw you around before so already his mind was thinking of who you could be

“ She’s too pretty to be Ukai’s daughter- he isnt even married why would he have a daughter-unless his wife left him with a baby and that’s why he’s grumpy all the time- wait but aren’t babies made by having-”

Noya kinda snaps out of it as you let out a small grunt while you’re trying to balance the two boxes on top of each other

Lets be real, Noya is the number one women respecter so when he sees you somewhat struggling, he rushes over and helps take some of the weight off of you

You could feel your load lighten but you still keep your hand on the box,“ I got it, it’s fine!”

“ No, please let me help! You’re too pretty to carry heavy things, you need a big strong man to help!”

He didn’t mean for it to sound so unfeminist because again, he loves women as much as Hinata loves volleyball but he just didn’t want you to hurt yourself

You guide him where to set the boxes and they’re way heavier than Noya anticipated but since he wanted to impress you, he tried to play it off like it wasn’t even that heavy

“ Thanks for the help, I hate making multiple trips” You said as you crouched down and opened up the boxes. When you look up at the boy for the first time, you feel your heart skip a beat because duh, cute stranger alert and Noya was feeling the exact same way

“ I would do it again in a heartbeat,” Noya smiled and introduced himself and when you said your full name, Noya felt like his mind had exploded

“ Woah! I know him, he’s my volleyball coach- I’m Karasuno’s libero-that’s the school I go to- and he owns the store- but you probably already know that- I’ve never seen you around before, are you new?”

When Noya gets excited, he has a tendency to talk people’s ear off but you found it so amusing and almost endearing

“ Yep, today’s my first day. It’s been pretty hectic but it keeps me pretty busy for the most part.”

“ You know, I’m here all the time so I practically own the store myself. If you need any manly assistance, I could help you- like right now- do you want me to stock these chips? The cheesy ones are my favorite what about you?”

You didn’t want to burden him but after trying to convince him you were fine doing it by yourself, you just gave up and decided that it would be quicker with him by your side

It would’ve taken you about an hour to stock whatever was left but with Noya’s help, you two managed to get it done in 20 minutes. While you closed up the shop, he even offered to walk you home because “ someone as pretty as you shouldn’t walk home without a bodyguard”

You happily accepted your offer because hellooooo any excuse to hang out with him longer worked for you!

When you got to your house, you gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek to thank him and for extra measure, you pulled out a bag of cheesy chips from your coat

Noya practically fell to his knees once you closed your front door and he was simping so hard for you that everytime he wasn’t busy with volleyball, he would close up the shop with you and walk you home

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gentlemancrow · 3 years

Note

jonmartin, pre-romance, #15/28??

I did manage to get BOTH of these in! So we have a combo of "You called me, remember?" and "It's too early for this". Much like the others, the MINUTE I read this prompt an idea popped into my head that I just HAD to go with! This is actually based off a real life incident I had with a friend (They know who they are...) but it fit both Jmart and the prompt PERFECTLY! The names have been changed to fictional characters to protect the innocent. (Hint I was the Martin in this situation) Anyway this was super fun and cute to write and I made myself all squishy a lot. HOPE YOU ENJOY! <3

There were precious few reasons why Martin’s mobile should be ringing at exactly 5:47 am on a Tuesday, and precisely none of them were good. Still, the anxiety inducing sound alerting him to something ominously, ambiguously amiss struggled to worm its way through a rather lovely dream of his acceptance speech after being awarded poet laureate. The poem he had prepared for the occasion was marrow-deep and hauntingly beautiful, or at least he remembered it that way until suddenly he was reciting the lyrics to Abba’s ‘Waterloo’ instead and sweating profusely as the audience began to murmur in disgust amongst themselves. Waterloo was indeed blaring, but from the ringtone of his phone, not from his lips, and his stomach performed a cold somersault with the force of the wave of anxiety that had begun in his dream and crested up to lap at the base of his barely functional brain. The few synapses he needed for basic motor function and reading comprehension crackled to life as he clumsily batted the buzzing device on his nightstand into his hand and squinted blearily at the name.

It was small. That was an immediate relief. If the care home had been calling about an incident with his mother, either her health or the staff’s as a result of her, it would have been the full moniker of ‘Sunrise Acres Care Home’ ticking across the caller ID. Yet small implied a name, a person, someone he had in his phone and not just a random spam call, and anxiety spiked again as Martin scrubbed at his eyes until ‘Jon’ appeared in white hot letters on the screen. Sleep dissolved from him in an instant and he sat bolt upright in a tangle of covers as he smashed the green answer icon with his thumb and threw the receiver to his ear.

“Hullo?! Jon? R’you okay? What’s happened?” he demanded, voice still slumbery thick and groggy.

“Martin!” Jon’s silky, prim voice, thinned out to a tin can vibrato over airwaves, answered, “Good, you’re awake. I need your help. Urgently.”

Martin was already out of bed by the time ‘need’ reached his ears, yanking on the first pair of jeans he spotted in the laundry heap on the floor and hopping on his free leg to the en suite with his phone pinched between his cheek and shoulder.

“I’m on it!” he assured him despite having no clue what ‘it’ was, exactly, “I’m coming to you as soon as I can. Where are you? Are you hurt? Should I bring a first aid kit? I don’t think I have a first aid kit… should I buy a first aid kit? There’s a Boots just down the block from my flat, I could-“

“Martin, stop! What the hell are you on about?” Jon’s annoyed tone cut through his panic like a scalpel.

Martin stopped in the doorframe of the bathroom, brows knitted, jeans puddling around the one leg he’d managed to get through and left once again in naught but his boxers as he gripped his phone back into his hand.

“Huh? What are you on about? You said you needed help!” he snapped.

“I do! But not like… not like THAT. What kind of mortal peril do you imagine I would find myself in at a quarter to six in the morning?”

The initial surge of adrenaline fizzling out uselessly in his veins the more Jon talked, Martin sagged against the doorway and pinched his temples as he strained his words through a colander of civility.

“I don’t know, Jon. You called me, remember?”

“Right, right…”

A terse, lowly hissing silence of dead satellite replaced Jon’s voice, twisting Martin’s nerves as acrobatically as he twisted to avoid the point. He kicked off his jeans and stalked grouchily back to bed where he threw himself face down and unmoving.

“So, what is it then? Wi-Fi gone tits up? Forgot how long to steep Darjeeling?” he hissed into his rumpled duvet, a little nastier than he would have liked given the deadly combination of interrupted slumber and primordial biological survival instinct.

“I uh…” Jon’s voice deflated over the speaker, “I have a… problem.”

“Yes, we’ve so very, very clearly established that. What kind of a problem, exactly…?”

“A problem of an upsettingly… Arachnid nature.”

“A spider…?”

“…Yes.”

Martin propped himself up on one elbow, eyes narrowed with genuine and curious concern.

“Wait like a… like a spooky spooky spider? Or just an ordinary kind of spooky spider?” he inquired with as much levity as he could muster, given one of the likely options.

“Stop saying spooky. And the ordinary kind. I think. No, I’m sure of it. It’s merely the sitting on my kitchen wall like it owns the place and staring at me rudely with all eight eyes, judging me for skipping breakfast again, kind,” Jon answered with clinical pointedness.

“O… kay…?” Martin drawled, suppressing a giggle, “So, what’s the problem then?”

“What do I do?”

Martin opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again as he doubted that he had actually heard Jonathan Sims, the irascible, pompous, only capable of truly looking at him down his nose Head Archivist Jonathan Sims, ask him, a lowly assistant, what to do. With a spider. It would have been almost adorable, had he not scared the life out of him initially, but even that knocked it only down a single peg to helplessly charming.

“I-I mean, the normal thing one does when encountering a spider in one’s home? You kind of only have the usual two options? Er well, three, if you count just leaving it be, but I doubt you’re amenable to that one.”

“No, absolutely not, out of the question,” Jon declared swiftly.

“Didn’t think so,” Martin chuckled, rolling onto his back and sagging in relief into the mattress.

“So?” came the impatient invitation to continue.

“So what?”

“So, then what do I do?” Jon repeated brusquely.

“Well, you either kill it or let it go, of course! What else is there to do? Invite it to brunch?”

“I know that! I’m not an idiot!” Jon erupted furiously, “Good lord, Martin! Do you really think I would have called you because I didn’t know the only two options for dealing with an eight-legged criminal invading my home were kill it or let it go? Really?! Did you suppose this was the very first spider I ever encountered in my life? Is that what you thought? Or perhaps I had my own personal valet to attend to all of my insectoid tribulations, hmm? Just call the bug butler, he’ll attend to it straightaway! Do you ever stop to think before you open your mouth? Or do you customarily just air out whatever inane notions blow through your ears, no matter how puerile? Christ!”

Martin let the phone drop onto the bed beside him, away from the verbal darts hurled directly into his eardrum and taxing the output matrix of the speaker, as Jon launched into an affronted, mortified tirade, smirking and shaking his head.

“It’s too early for this…” he mused to himself ruefully, rubbing both hands over his face and eyes.

Once the phone stopped humming and glowing white hot with remote rage, Martin scooped it back up and yawned into the receiver.

“You alright there, Jon?” he asked in a gentle tone.

A ragged sigh crackled into a blip of feedback from lips too close on the other end of the phone.

“…Not really?” came Jon’s tremulous reply, “Listen, I’m sorry I went off on you. That was unfair of me. I-I just… I really… really hate spiders.”

Something squeezed in Martin’s chest, something about the confident bass flayed neatly out of Jon’s usually assertively solid mannerisms, leaving it abnormally thin and rickety. He sat up on the bed, cradling the phone much more gently to his cheek.

“Hey hey, it’s okay,” he assured him, “If anybody sympathizes about being afraid, you definitely called the right person. Need me to stay on the line with you while you whack it? A good heavy book will probably do the trick, or if you need speed and agility a rolled-up newspaper or a magazine might be better?”

“No! I wasn’t calling because I needed advice on how to murder the damn thing! I’m quite capable of doing that on my own. Frankly, I’ve taken rather a vested interest in honing my spider termination methodology over the years. I called you because… well you were going on about how you thought they were…” Jon trailed off in a series of garbled sounds of disgust, “Cute… of all things.”

Martin grinned and had to put the phone on his bare chest a moment, as if Jon might somehow perceive his giddy glee through the receiver.

“To be fair I’m a little odd that way. Most people feel much the same as you do about them,” he commented as he picked it back up.

“True, but that’s not even the whole of it!” Jon went on exasperatedly, “I also overheard you talking… must have been to Tim or Sasha but… you were explaining about how helpful they are to the ecosystem and what a vital role they play in that natural order of things, and how we always see images of them eating butterflies and beautiful things that make them look sinister, but how really they mostly control pests and the like… how you thought they got kind of a bad rap?”

“Wow I uh… I can’t believe you remembered all that,” Martin muttered, freckled cheeks dusting a light pink, “But what does that have to do with your unwanted houseguest in particular?”

“It was the last part, mainly. That’s what got me. The part about fear. That they’re afraid, too… You said there had been studies that showed a clear fear response in spiders… to us. They’re afraid of us, demonstrably more so than we are of them…”

One word of all of those slipped between Martin’s ribs and into his heart. Too. They were afraid, too. His thumb stroked and consoled the edge of his phone unconsciously as Jon blustered on, unbothered by his own unconscious admission.

“And now I can’t do it! Now I have to set this bloody spider free because you think it’s cute and want to make friends with it, and I can’t make it an innocent victim of my fear and I have no idea how!”

Martin couldn’t help but smile, imagining how Jon must be in his flat on the other end, scrunched in a corner all hunched up shoulders and furrowed brow with hackles bristling, squaring off with a creature who was possessed of no knowledge of the fear she symbolized, or the grace to understand the iconographical divorce to her salvation. Only Jon, quivering and still bed-rumpled and frazzled, could understand the magnitude of cupping that fear in the palm of his hand while reaching out to him with the other. And now Martin understood it, too.

“Hey alright, I’ve got you. Steady on Jon, we’re gonna get through this together. I’ll talk you through the steps, you just follow what I say, okay?” he instructed in his best 999 operator performance.

A beat of silence ensued, followed by a much more robust and emboldened, “Okay.”

“So, what you want to do first is get a glass.”

“A glass?”

“Yeah, like a water glass. And a stiff piece of paper or cardboard or something. If you’ve got a bit of post lying about, flyers and coupons and the like, those usually work well.”

There was a period of distant shuffling, clattering, and indecipherable muttering as Jon gathered his weapons, then sucked in an audible breath through his teeth.

“Alright I’ve got them, now what?” he asked, sounding a bit winded.

“Now you very carefully put the glass over the spider, then slide the paper under the glass so you trap it inside. Then you can take it out without touching it or worrying about it scuttling off on you and set it free wherever you think it’ll be happy!” Martin answered sweetly.

“Okay, okay. I think I can do that,” Jon chanted for steadiness, “I’m putting the phone down so I don’t louse it up, but d-don’t hang up, stay on with me, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Jon. I promise. You’re okay.”

“O-Okay… Okay… Okay…!”

Martin listened as Jon’s voice grew distant, but somehow stronger, more like a war cry, with the soft pad of socked feet on tile, then a short stretch of silence, and then a chorus of oaths and yelping, rising to the crescendo of a door being messily flung open, shut, then opened and shut again. A drumbeat of returning feet rolled mutely close and melded into the scratchy rustle of the phone being picked back up.

“I’m back,” Jon announced.

“Is it done?”

“The deed is done… your little friend is enjoying some lovely pink dahlias out front as we speak.”

“I’m pleased for her! And… for you, too,” Martin said, voice melting into lilting tenderness, “I’m honestly really proud of you, I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

“I… Ah… No, it wasn’t. Thank you, Martin,” came the sheepishly measured rejoinder.

“You’re very welcome.”

Martin smiled privately to himself, and ran a loving thumb down the edge of his phone once more.

“So then may I rightly assume I have permission to come in an hour or so late today so I can go back to sleep?” he continued, already knowing the answer as he flopped back down on his pillows and rolled up into the covers.

He was relieved to hear a husky chuckle rumble through the phone.

“Yes, yes. I think you’ve more than earned it.”

“Brilliant, see you in a bit then? And for lunch?” he added hopefully.

The brief silence as Jon calculated his response hung thick and palpable in the digital airwaves.

“Lunch sounds good,” he replied at length, “See you then.”

“G-Great! Great! See you!”

Their phones clicked mutually off without the awkward jumble of sign-offs, pleasantries, and accidentally stumbling over each other’s words. Martin thought glimmeringly of the spider hunting free in plush pink petals, none the wiser, and of Jon, with new and irrefutable proof that not everything ugly or quietly cunning in the world lurked behind to cast its shadow over him. A spider could be just a spider, and Martin back asleep with both hands still clutching his phone to his chest, dreaming of singing Waterloo again, but this time to a rapt audience and thunderous applause.

#The Magnus Archives #TMA #JonMartin #Jmart #jonathan sims #Martin Blackwood #Spiders #Crow Writes #Ask Drabble #distortingbones #Suddenlyapples

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writersarchivex · 3 years

Text

New Job- One Shot

a/n: basically y/n just got a new job, and before her first day she goes out to celebrate with some friends. she meets harry at the bar. things happen. b o o m.

warnings: angst, adult language, drinking, mentions of sex.

!theres no smut in this guys . give me a break this is my first time posting on tumblr!

words: 1.6k

After months of looking and years of hard work at college, Y/N finally got the call. She had gotten her dream job at a law firm, which might not sound like much but it very much so is. All her life this had been just what her dad wanted for her, to grow up and become a powerful lawyer and strong young woman.

So that’s what she did. She worked her ass off, never attending parties and never straying far from the lines. Pretty much everything she did was to please the memory of her beloved father.

Tonight though, was a change of pace for Y/N. A group of her friends invited her to the local bar, after finding out about her new found job.

“Come on Y/N. One drink. Live a little before you jump into that great job of yours.” Mia said into the phone.

Y/N sighed and looked around at her apartment. She didn’t really have any plans for the night, and there wasn’t any harm in having one drink with her friends. I mean, how often do you get to celebrate things like this right?

“Fine, Mia. Just one drink. No funny business though, I really can’t go in tomorrow with a hang over.” Y/N smiled.

One drink very quickly became two, and two became four. Y/N was very drunk. The room was a bit blurry, but she was certainly sober to know she’d had enough.

Mia and the group were having a blast, and of course she was as well. This type of thing was never Y/N’s scene. She was more of the ‘stay inside with a blanket and a book’ kind of girl.

She kind of hated nights like this. The smell and taste of alcohol overpowering her senses, drunk sweaty people dancing around, and a black dress that was all too short and uncomfortable.

After looking at her friends a while more, she had decided she was done. It’s way past time to call it a night.

She gave a smile to know one in particular, and turned to get her wallet.

She did not expect though, to be met with very pretty eyes and the most gorgeous hair she has probably seen on a man, or any human being for that matter.

“Can I buy you a drink, love?” The man asked, eyeing her carefully up and down.

His voice was dripping with attractiveness, and a beautiful english accent.

“Uhm, I really should be going. Thank you though,” She did her best to be polite.

Although the man looked like a literal gift from God, she really needed to get home.

She missed her pajamas. And her cat.

“Come on, just one. If you really wanna go after that, I’ll call you an uber.” He smiled.

Okay, by now Y/N was very sure she was dreaming. No man that sexy can possibly be that kind. Nope.

She looked at him carefully, like he did to her just moments ago. He was quite tall compared to her, and he was wearing a very nice suit, that fit him perfectly. A businessman maybe?

The man continued to patiently wait, until she gave her answer.

“Okay fine one drink, can I at least have your name?” She smiled at the curly headed man.

He clapped his hands together softly, and let out a chuckle.

“I’m Harry.”

——————————————————————————

Y/N felt the warmth of the sun on her as she slowly sat up in her bed. The memories of last night still a mystery in her mind.

All she knew is that, somehow she was not late for work.

And there was someone in her bed.

A man was laying next to her, facing the opposite direction. From what she could see, he was hot. He certainly had a very nice back.

“I’m Harry.”

Memories from the night prior flooded her mind. She began to slightly panic. She’s never experienced anything like this before, and she didn’t quite know what to do with the man in the bed next to her.

He was fast asleep, and right now she wishes she were dead. Out of all the stupid things she's ever done, this seems to take the cake.

Trying her best not to wake the man, Y/N made her way quietly out of her room. I mean, she could just get ready for work? Let him wake up on his own?

With the few times that she had gotten drunk in the past, she's never really had a hang over. Call it good karma, or maybe just luck.

She examined her self in the mirror, noticing the hickeys that littered her pale chest.

"Jesus. Couldn't he have aimed a little lower there Harry." She grimaced, turning away from the mirror.

Although she felt a little stupid and embarrassed, she didn't really regret sleeping with the man in her bed.

He seemed mature, which is always nice in situations like this. Not to mention he was mind numbingly attractive.

—

Soon after her shower was finished and she had gotten ready for work, she stepped out of the bathroom trying her best to prepare to wake the man up.

It took every bone in her body not to just let him stay there until he deemed fit to leave, but she figured that wouldn't be the best of ideas. She walked down the small hallway and quickly noticed the smell of coffee surrounding the apartment.

Walking into the kitchen, the man was stood in just his boxers, patiently waiting for the coffee to brew.

Standing there she decided to indulge herself a bit. She never really gets the pleasure of housing someone like this in her apartment, so she figures it wouldn't hurt to admire a bit.

"The mugs are in the top cabinet." She was a bit surprised by how weak her voice was, considering how confident she was last night.

He turned quickly and gave her a quick smile. He seemed a bit wrecked, which was a given under the circumstances.

"Hangover?" She asked, slowly making her way to the medicine cabinet.

He nodded and sat with his cup of black coffee, placing his hands around his head.

"Yes. You seem perfectly fine though. Is it bad that i kind of wish you were hungover too?" He laughed a bit, but quickly grimaced at the sound of his own voice.

What he said made her giggle a bit, before she handed him a few ibuprofen.

He mumbled a quick thank you and finished his cup of coffee.

He stood, placing his hand on either side of the counter where Y/N sat.

Suddenly, she felt like she was in junior high all over again. Y/N felt her cheeks go hot and it felt like every sign of breath had vacated her lungs.

"Hangover or not. From what i can remember, last night was great." He said in a slight whisper.

He was close enough now, that Y/N could feel his breath on my neck. It sent shivers down her spine and she could've swarm she would die right on the spot.

He placed his lips on hers gently, and boy she could've sworn she felt sparks. Her whole face was on fire at this point. No man, or woman, has ever had quite this effect on her.

"I wish I could stay love, but I have to head in to work in about an hour." He said, tracing circles on the side of her arm.

She smiled and looked at the clock, she still had about thirty minutes before she had to get to the firm, and living pretty close surely helped her situation.

"It's okay you can go. It was nice- meeting you Harry."

He gave her one last kiss on the lips before returning to the room to get dressed.

—

Y/N was actually quite sad that he had left. She wishes he could've stayed longer, but she wasn't going to be that girl.

It was a one night stand, and nothing more.

She sighed and looked up at the polished building. Her cup of coffee had gone a bit cold, but she drank it nonetheless.

She checked her watch quickly, and decided it would be best just to go ahead in.

Y/N was very nervous. She worked hard and earned her position, but she was still a bit worried about how her arrival would be taken.

She was a nice girl, and she hoped that people would treat her the same.

She got a few looks as she walked in, but most everyone continued on with their business as if she was just another intern. That she was though.

"Y/N hey!" She stopped in her tracks as her close friend Liam flagged her down.

He stopped in front of her and began to give her the run down of the building.

"Here's everything you need, badge, ID card, and I wrote down the pin numbers to the break room doors. Oh and you have a quick meeting with the boss in about five minutes. He's running late, so you can just go wait in his office." Liam panted.

I was a bit overwhelmed with all the information he gave me, but I did my best not to show my nervousness.

"Okay. I'm going to head there now. Wish me luck okay?" She grinned at the man.

He gave her a quick hug, and then hurriedly made his way over to his office.

———

The bosses office was quite bare. She'd never seen or met this man. Y/N was hired by the head of the department she'd be working in. This man that she was meeting with was the head of the whole damn building.

Kind of intimidating, but it's nothing she can't handle.

After waiting for about fifteen minutes, the door opened and closed quickly.

"I apologize for my lateness, Miss Y/L/N. I was stuck in morning traffic." A familiar voice rang out.

She grimaced and turned around slowly to face the man.

Her boss.

"Harry?"

#harry styles #solo harry #harry styles fanfiction #fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

god your bthb prompts are so good 😭😭, i was wondering if you could do any of these with tarlos?

rage against reflection

suicide attempt

flashbacks

forced to kneel.

not all of them, of course! pick whichever you think you’ll do best at!

my only preference is physical whump at some point, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! thank you love!

thank you my lovely!!! i chose forced to kneel - i hope you enjoy it! as always, i am looking for prompts to fill the remaining squares - if you have one, don’t hesitate to send me an ask!

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: forced to kneel

ao3 | 2.2k | tarlos

Carlos exchanged a tight-lipped look with his partner as they pulled up to the scene. Every available patrol unit had been called here, and he could see more than a few paramedic vehicles on standby in case things went south. He couldn’t help the nerves twisting his stomach into knots; hostage situations were always difficult, and there was something about today that had Carlos on edge.

He didn’t know why, but he had the strangest sense that something was about to go very wrong.

He and Rachel walked to where the lieutenant in charge of the scene was briefing them.

“We have reports of at least one hostile, but be aware that there may be more,” he was saying. “Presume they are armed. There are at least ten hostages, located in the conference room on the ground floor. Negotiation attempts have as yet been unsuccessful; the suspects’ motives are unclear.

“A group of you will enter the building with a view to neutralising the suspect. I’m sure it goes without saying, but do not engage in a manner that would harm the hostages, or you. Let’s not make this any more complicated than it needs to be. Understood?”

They nodded, at which the lieutenant appeared grimly satisfied. He began assigning positions, and Carlos knew even before he got to them what he was going to say.

Sure enough, “Reyes, Moreno - you’re going in,” the lieutenant said. “Get ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

Carlos’s nerves only grew as they strapped on their bulletproof vests, and he checked his gear twice to make sure he was prepared. Rachel nodded tightly at him and he returned the gesture, before heading into position.

Tightening his grip on his gun, Carlos spared a brief thought for TK. TK, who would no doubt hear about this over the news, if the numerous press vehicles arriving on scene were any indication. Carlos just hoped he would make it out of this in one piece, so he could get home to his boyfriend and collapse into his arms.

He was broken from his thoughts by the order to enter crackling over the line. Carlos let out a shaky breath, then steeled himself, body tight as they headed stealthily through the hotel. They managed to locate the conference room without any problems, though Carlos’s instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong.

There were four of them, though; surely one of them would have noticed if anything was truly amiss?

No sound came from inside the room. Locking eyes with Rachel, Carlos held up his fingers and silently counted down before forcing their way inside, guns drawn.

There was no one there. No one, except for the terrified hostages tied up at the far end. After sweeping the room, Carlos rushed over to them, Rachel on his heels, and began freeing them, holding a finger to his lips so they wouldn’t alert whoever had done this.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, pulling the gag out of the mouth of the woman in front of him.

She nodded. “Yes, thank you, I -” She trailed off, her eyes widening at something over Carlos’s shoulder at the same time as Rachel yelled his name.

Carlos didn’t even get a chance to turn before something cracked across the back of his head, and the world went dark.

He woke slowly, the fog in his brain taking a long time to clear. When it did, Carlos realised several things all at once.

One: he no longer had his gun or radio.

Two: he was tied up, and a quick glance to his right showed him that Rachel and the other two officers with them were in a similar situation.

And three: he might not make it back to TK after all.

It was this final thought that kicked his brain back into gear, and he frantically tried to come up with a plan to salvage the situation. There were two men standing on the other side of the room, and a third by the door - the hostage-takers, he presumed. None of them were looking directly at him, so Carlos tugged experimentally on his bindings. To his surprise, they were fairly loose; if he was quick, and quiet, he might be able to get free.

What he’d do then, Carlos didn’t know, but one step at a time.

Keeping one eye on the men, he carefully maneuvered himself, twisting until, at last, the ropes fell away from his wrists. He let out a relieved breath, then turned to Rachel, reaching to pull at her bindings.

He didn’t get far, however, when hands were on him, wrenching him away from her.

“Hey!” one of the men growled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Carlos didn’t answer, praying that Rachel would have the sense to finish freeing herself and do something while they were focused on him. He yanked himself out of the man’s grip and managed to deliver a blow to his face before he was grabbed again, this time being forced to his knees.

The cool metal of a gun pressed against his forehead, and Carlos didn’t miss the sound of the safety clicking off.

“Trouble, aren’t you?” the man holding the gun hissed. “We’re going to have to do something about that.”

Carlos closed his eyes, allowing his body to sag minutely. The grip they had on him was too firm; there was no way he’d be able to escape from this kneeling position without earning a bullet to the head.

Though, he thought mournfully, there probably wasn’t anything he could do to avoid that bullet at this point anyway.

For the second time, he thought of TK, holding his face in his mind’s eye. He’d never hold him again, never kiss him again, but if he had to die, then Carlos was going to do it with the comfort that his last thought would be of TK’s smile as they had parted that morning.

Distantly, he heard a quiet click, and then -

TK checked his pocket for the twelfth time in five minutes as he exited the locker room, grinning when his fingers closed around the small velvet box.

If everything went to plan, in a couple of hours, Carlos would no longer be his boyfriend, but his fiancé. The thought sent a thrill through him, though it also simultaneously set his nerves spiking. Logically, he knew nothing could go wrong; he’d planned the evening to a tee, and he was confident that Carlos would say yes.

Buying the ring had been hard, memories flashing through his mind of the last time he had been in that position. But he was doing it for all the right reasons this time, and TK knew that Carlos was it for him. Proposing would be a formality, really, though that didn’t make it any less special.

He’d even begged Carlos’s mom’s help in teaching him to make tamales, and he was going to pick up a flower arrangement on his way home.

Everything would be perfect.

His teammates were still sitting in the communal area when he entered, eyes glued to the tv screen. TK frowned; he thought they’d have all gone home by now.

Paul was the first to notice him, and TK’s concern only grew as he got everyone else’s attention, their worried gazes falling on him one by one.

“What’s going on?” he asked warily. They had a silent argument, before Marjan slowly got to her feet, approaching him hesitantly, hands clasping and unclasping in front of her.

“I know you’re probably going to anyway, but don’t freak out.” She took a deep breath and met his eyes. “There’s a hostage situation at that big, fancy hotel across town. Apparently it’s pretty serious, they’ve had to send police in, and, um, well…”

Marjan paused, and TK felt dread wash through him, knowing what her next words would be.

“He’s there, TK. He’s gone in.”

TK spent the next hour alternating between pacing and staring at his phone, desperately hoping for it to ring. Paul had shut the news off pretty quickly after an announcement that shots had been fired had nearly sent TK into a panic attack, and now they were all watching him closely, to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid, TK guessed.

It made his skin crawl, having so many pairs of eyes on him, even if he understood why. He appreciated it, really, but if anything, it just made the urge to run stronger. He was about to make a break for the doors - just for some air - when a shrill sound cut through the tense silence.

TK’s phone rang.

He didn’t bother to check the id before answering, almost dropping his phone in his haste. “Carlos?”

“Um, no,” a distinctly female voice said. “It’s Rachel, actually, I’m Carlos’s -”

“His partner,” TK cut in, anxiety roiling in his stomach at the knowledge that it was Carlos’s partner, not Carlos himself who called him. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Rachel answered, apparently undeterred by TK’s lack of politeness. But he barely got a moment to feel relieved before she continued, “He’s in the hospital.”

TK let out a choked sound. “Hospital?” he whispered, the team looking up at him in alarm. “Hospital isn’t fine.”

“I know; that came out wrong.” She sighed. “Carlos got caught up in the middle of the shooting and a bullet grazed his side, but he’s okay, I swear. Last I heard, they want to keep him overnight for observation, but he’ll be fine.”

TK collapsed into the nearest chair, his head falling into his hands. Someone - he couldn’t tell who - started rubbing soothing circles on his back, and TK unashamedly leaned into the touch. “Which hospital is he at?” he eventually managed.

“St. David’s.”

“Thank you, Rachel.”

“Yeah, no problem.” A pause. “He really saved our asses today. I thought you’d want to know.”

TK breathed out shakily as he ended the call, allowing himself a moment to ride out the residual anxiety still coursing through his body.

“You okay, man?” Paul asked tentatively.

TK looked up at them. “Can one of you drive me to the hospital?”

As Rachel had promised, Carlos was sitting up in bed when TK arrived, looking as he always did - beautiful, happy, alive. His face lit up with a grin when he spotted him, and TK all but ran to him, barely remembering to thank Judd for the ride.

“Carlos,” he choked out, tears springing unbidden to his eyes as he carefully hugged him, mindful of his wound. Carlos hugged him back, his head buried in TK’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Ty,” he said. “I’m okay.”

TK pulled back, his hands moving to frame Carlos’s face. “Are you, though?” he asked, checking his boyfriend over.

“I am,” Carlos promised. “They’re even sending me home tomorrow.”

He smiled, and TK couldn’t help but to smile back, falling into the chair next to the bed. He grasped Carlos’s hand in his own, rubbing his thumb across it as a comfortable silence fell between them.

“So much for date night, huh?” Carlos joked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

TK laughed drily. “Yeah,” he said. “Your mom’s going to be so disappointed you never got to try the tamales she helped me make.”

He said the words without thinking, and regretted them as soon as they were out. TK winced as Carlos straightened, turning to stare at him.

“You’ve been cooking with my mom?” he asked, shock and confusion evident in his voice.

“Um.” TK swallowed nervously. “Yes?”

Carlos frowned. “But… Why?”

“I, uh… Fuck.” TK closed his eyes, knowing there was no way he could talk his way out of this one. When he opened them again, he shifted in his seat, breaking their hands apart, and reached in his pocket for the ring box. “For the record, I had a whole plan for tonight, and not one part of it involved my boyfriend being in the hospital.”

“What are you talking about, Ty?” Carlos asked, bemused.

TK smiled at him, pulling the box out. Carlos’s mouth dropped open in shock when he saw it, and there were tears in his eyes when he looked back at him.

TK took a deep breath. “Carlos, these past two years with you have been the happiest of my life. You brought colour back into my life, and you’ve kept it there every single day. I love you more than I ever realised was possible, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. I never imagined that I would be asking you this in a hospital room, but I guess it’s kind of fitting for us, huh? So - Carlos Reyes, will you marry me?”

For a few nerve-wracking seconds, Carlos just stared, gaze flicking between TK’s face and the open ring box, tears slipping down his cheeks. Then, he brought his hands to TK’s face, a broad smile on his lips.

“TK Strand, I will marry you.”

And TK laughed, not caring about the tears on his own cheeks as he slipped the ring onto Carlos’s finger, leaning forward to kiss him. They were both smiling too much for it to be a proper kiss, but TK found he didn’t care - nor did he care that his plan hadn’t worked out.

Because Carlos Reyes was his fiancé, which TK thought was pretty damn perfect.

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ccelinewritess · 4 years

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the distance between us

pairing- draco malfoy x reader

word count- 9.7k

summary- the first time draco uses the muggle post system, it goes so terribly wrong, and a letter falls into the hands of a girl who was never supposed to see it, a muggle at that.

warnings- curse words, ptsd, anxiety/ panic attacks, depression mention of death, murder, blood and burns aswell as insomia, seperation anxiety (?) and my grammar.if these may trigger you, i suggested not reading.

a/n- this took me a while to get out, sry abt that. the reader was set to live in a canadian town called kelowna, british columbia. it takes place in readers grade 11/12 and dracos 6/7 year. i hope it’s not to self inserted, and you guys can enjoy and relate to it. big thank you to @dracodear for the help on this, love you! also thanks to everyone who left owl name suggestions, all were awesome and i ended up going with @winnsmills suggestion ‘noctua’ ! tumblrs been acting weird, so i hope it lets me post the whole thing. letters are in italics. also please note, this is off the movies timeline! i tried to fit in as many details as possible but some didn’t make it.

the town was widespread. wineries and mountains everywhere, the okanagan lake splitting it down the middle, reconnecting the cities halves by a bridge. little snow and tons of rain. jeep wranglers in every colour roaring around into unholy hours of the night, bustling with life yet all to lonely at times. but hey, that’s kelowna for you.

rain was running down the windows of y/ns most boring class, last period biology. she knew she should be paying attention. she had a high gpa to maintain, and couldn’t afford to fail another class besides french. the last five minutes of blabbering ended after what felt like a year.

‘you are dismissed, ill see you all monday, have a good weekend’ and with that everyone rose, heading to the parking lot as fast as possible in an attemp to dodge traffic. despite pouring rain, the air was hot, and on the ride home y/ns mind raced over every single assignment she had to complete over the next two days, while her hands tapped the steering wheel.

‘english essay, math review, history paper, business management graph’ she muttered under her breath. the town was busy, many students often blew off class to go shopping, or hit a movie, or smoke weed, the possibilities were endless. her house was cool compared to outside, and empty. no one was home, not that it was a surprise to the girl, people weren’t usually home, siblings gone to university, and parents working absurd amounts.

something caught her eye on the counter, an envelope, an ordinary seeming one, but absolutely covered in small pictured stamps with ‘england’ underneath each one. eighteen of them, all different. she knew shouldn’t open it, so she didn’t. at first. but it was irresistible. there was a return address written in the smallest writing she’d ever seen. wogshell, no, wiltshire? she took it to her room, and locked the door before ripping it open. she didn’t want the one time she had something intresting going on to be interrupted by whoever might show up.

her mouth fell open at every line of the same scroll. who was snape? why was this draco boy sending him a letter? he didn’t need his help to kill who? what the fuck was an unbreakable vow and why shouldn’t snape sign it? why was his mum going to see snape? who was the dark lord and why did he pick draco for a task? what kind of name is dumbledore?

what she already knew was confirmed- this letter was most definetly not for her. but newly- she opened a letter from a potential murderer or maybe it was a prank, a sick prank if it was one.

so instead she crafted up quite the response, whoever wrote this was either hysterical or in distress, and needed some sort of company- she thought, atleast.

it had been thirteen days, why wasn’t the letter back yet? the owl still couldn’t fly even about the house without damaging itself further. maybe using the muggle post system was a mistake. but better have it land into the hands of a muggle, who would likely throw it out, than a wizard who would know a death eater would soon be wondering around hogwarts.

as if on que, the door bell rang and echoed through the empty manor. on the porch sat an envelope, with only one stamp, his name in the middle and another he didn’t recognize in the corner. shit, this couldn’t be good. his eye caught the stamp. canada? fuck, this was supposed to go to cokeworth not bloody canada. no one was home so he opened it right there in the foyer.

hello, draco.

i am not snape- nor do i know who snape is. i am also very unfimilar with some of the vocabulary you used. dark lord? unbreakable vow? you seem to have quite the situation going on, if i read correctly. im not exactly stupid, but i do know that this letter was most definitely not supposed to be in my possession. i didn’t know who to send it to, id send it back to you, but you probably don’t want a copy of your own letter. i also know you likely have enough on your plate, but if you’d like someone to talk to im only half a world away, have no sort of schedule and am a good listener, well reader in this case. good luck with whatever task you’ve mentioned. p.s. you had about seventeen stamps to many, first time sending a letter? unfortunate fate, huh ? what kind of name is snape and what the heck is a dumbledore? i suppose it’s none of my business, knowing you likely won’t respond, but if you do i wrote my address on the front. have a good day/ night/ whatever time it is wherever you are.

y/n l/n

tears were welling in dracos eyes, he was floored, in a good and bad way. his task was already going downhill. the letter he sent snape had fallen into the hands of a muggle, who did not throw the letter away, but responded. and snape was likely going to bine himself into the task through the unbreakable vow, which draco was more than able to complete. he wouldn’t have been chosen if he wasn’t, right?

not only had she responded, she offered him help, well distant company, to a stranger who obviously had quite a few problems and she clearly had no regard for her own safety. he couldn’t tell her about the wizarding world. not that he could tell her about anything, she could be lying. he had a task to focus on, he couldn’t write her back.

and that was true- at the time. he had no intent of writing the girl back. and yet he found himself reading the 201 words over and over, running his hands across the paper, expecting them to fade away as he wiped. counting and recounting. he surely couldn’t talk to any of the twats at hogwarts, maybe a stranger could help numb the pain. and as long as he didn’t tell anyone- she couldn’t get hurt, she was to far.

draco was packed for hogwarts, the response at the bottom of the trunk, underneath his clothes. he’d just have to get to the damn school, then he could write all he wanted- without his parents knowledge or ridicule. his mind jumbled together what he was going to say while his friends rambled on. the train pulled up to the castle after dreadful hours and he could barely sit still during the opening feast. his thoughts did falter though, when dumbledore gave his speech, he felt guilty- the shame of his family weighing on his shoulders. he looked around, all his classmates staring in adoration at a man who would be dead ten months from now, and they were sitting in the same room as his killer.

the singular room was nice, he knew it wasn’t for lounge, but for plots of death.

before he began he started making promises to himself. if i get behind on the plan ill won’t write, if snape notices anything about it, ill stop. the list went on and on.

he couldn’t put his pen down, the words continued to fly out the end, was he oversharing?

dear y/n

my deepest apologies that my last letter found it’s way to you. im sure you didn’t expect whatever you may have perceived from it. honestly, i don’t know how it arrived all the way over there. im almost positive you have better things to do than listen to my problems, and i know you had no control over the fact it arrived, but i ask you to please not share this information with anyone. i am unsure if i will take up your offer of amity, if you were serious that is. im at school now, so if you’d like to respond, not that you have to- you can send letters back with my owl, it’ll be faster (and i won’t have to worry about stamps- thanks for the tip by the way)

draco malfoy

and with that noctua was off into the night, and he could only hope that it would make it to her.

droll was running down y/ns chin and she was caught in a dream. suddenly a vigorous tapping on the window pulled her into consciousness, the sight of owl knocking her backwards in a scare. a crash sounded, if the tapping didn’t wake anyone up, that surely did. she almost considered just trying to ignore it, until she noticed a letter tied to its neck and reluctantly opened the window. she’d never seen an owl in real life before, but was aware from school that they weren’t exactly the kindest of creatures. this one just perched on the window while she removed the new enevelope, no stamps in sight. just a neatly printed address, and his in the corner.

from the new letter she learned even more- this wasn’t a prank, draco was a real person, was still in school, and whatever the first misplaced letter contained was true. he had some sort of task and didnt want help, but that was all. so with what she could, she wrote another response. it took an hour and she wasn’t exactly sure what she had written by mid morning.

draco

you’d be quite suprised actually, it gets lonely over here. i still haven’t exactly deciphered your original note, so if you would like to help me understand i think i’d be ready. and no worries about me, my lips are sealed. what is an unbreakable vow, im curious? you go to boarding school? and owls, really? what the hell is up with that? im pretty sure it’s illegal to own one here, but we are countries away, so perhaps it’s different all the way over there. send whatever you want. i do not- by the way- have anything better to do in the slightest.

y/n

he continued to write throughout the month of september, which bled into october before he knew it. he was avoiding questions about the task, just wanting someone to talk to. it wasn’t easy, she was curious, which draco couldn’t exactly be mad at her for that since he continued to write her, accepting the distant friendship that was forming.

he was learning a lot about her aswell. besides french, which he informed her he spoke fluently numerous times, she was a very good student. she was single, he didn’t remember how that came up but made a note in his mind- he couldn’t date her, nor did he know enough about her to be properly involved.

she read a lot of books, sappy romances mostly, couldn’t cook anything deemed edible by anyone, and her favourite colour was green, he smirked when reading that for the first time. she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her future, just not a doctor like her parents wanted.

y/n was sitting in english as her teacher reviewed about univeristy application requirements. only next year they would be getting accepted and denied from their dream schools. she’d spent years dreaming of it, university, and yet somehow a boy half way around the was racing through her mind. she felt horrible about it, the small crush. it was incredibly selfish, falling for a boy with so much going on, he certainly didn’t need her as anything more than a friend to talk to, but he was good with his words, and making her feel important too. her dismissal came and so did a classmate, approaching confident and cocky.

‘hey, l/n’ he said, a smirk on his face

‘oh, uh hey, will’

‘what are doing tonight?’ her mind went blank, any excuse, come on, say something

‘i have plans’ wow real specific, great job, y/n

‘like what’

‘fish funeral, real important stuff, my family is just devastated’ her voice was clearly sarcastic and that was all before she walked right out. no she didn’t exactly have plans, but waiting for dracos owl provided much more company than any date could have. the sight of dracos owl flying towards the pre-opened window was somewhat relieving, she didn’t know why, just the fact that he had not failed yet, and was still out there was nice. she hadn’t had this much company. since last year at least, when her supposed best friend started ghosting her because of some petty shit.

thankfully noctua ad gotten quite good at being discreet when delivering the letters. of all the things on y/ns junior year bucket list, explaining to her parents that she had befriended a british boy with an owl who flyed into her room while her neighbours had a clear view, wasn’t one. she also began keeping a bowl of water under her bed for the owl to drink when it arrived, knowing it couldn’t have been easy travelling back and forth.

y/n

im not fully sure you want to know the depth, yet you seem to want me to corrupt you with my villain with a task baggage. i suppose it couldn’t hurt if i told you about the unbreakable vow. it’s like a promise or a bond, but if you break it then you die. if you can stomach that i may be able to tell you more. how far away do you reckon we are?

draco

draco wasn’t falling behind too far, but his first attemp had failed, and panic attacks were taking up most his time. he never had any, at least not this bad until this year. at least once a day he would start sweating, no matter how cold he was, unable to control his breathing or tears, feeling like the walls were caving in upon him.

that is, besides writing y/n as much as he could. apparently she was being honest, she had no schedule of any sort besides going to school. he hated to say, but he was becoming attached, he didn’t exactly know how either, but everytime he recieved a letter a small weight was lifted from his shoulders, even just when he read it.

noctua was doing the weekly, almost daily round at breakfast with the other owls and draco watched with anticipation as a letter dropped on his lap and owl on his shoulder. he tried to conceal the letter into his robes but pansy had taken matters into her own hands. likely jealous that she’d spent collectively around six hours with him the whole year, and he never talked to her like he used to.

‘ou draco whats this’ twirling the envelope between her hands. the letter had no name, no stamp, only a small heart drawing in the corner.

‘hands off parkinson’ he said while taking the letter back. ‘a letter from my mother, if you must know’ he said knowing that neither his mother or father had written him anything, despite having all the time to do so.

he got up and left the second he was done, not wanting to draw snapes suspicion about who could possibly be more important than working on this task.

he rushed to his room, desperate for more of her words. he tried to picture her voice in his head, but had to remind himself she wasn’t british nor was she from southern america.

draco,

so you just die if you break the promise? intresting. it’s not as hard to stomach as you seem to think, very unique tradition i suppose. you are not a villain draco, you haven’t told me much about it but your to good of a person to have picked any of this for yourself. i calculated when we you were home, seven thousand three hundred something, i don’t know where your fancy boarding school where you have owls for pets is, so it may be further. im ready whenever you are.

y/n

her letter was relieving for him aswell, even in the slightest it helped, but she deserved some sort of answer for helping him take his mind off the task for a couple minutes. he could tell if she wasn’t scared off already, this would do it.

y/n

if you are sure, here it is. dumbledore is my headmaster, the dark lord is a very powerful wizard, and snape is my professor. if i don’t kill dumbledore before july, he will kill me and my family, if i can’t complete the task, snape will kill him under terms of an unbreakable vow. im not a very good villain that’s for sure, my first attemp failed, and my classmate is out cold. i understand if you dont want to write to me anymore, just don’t tell anyone about this, please.

dm.

the only words to describe the feeling that overwhelmed her senses as she read were devastation and shock. tears pooled in her eyes as she tried to imagine herself with that much responsibility to wildhold until july. another detail that caught her eye, wizard? what did he mean by wizard? is that the word for dictator in england? certainly he wasn’t talking about the wizards she read about in storybooks as a child. her hand shook slightly and she debated mentioning it.

draco

you’re silly if you think i’d stop writing you. you need company now more than ever. please don’t hold things back from your letters, you deserve someone to talk to. that is quite the situation, im sorry if i pushed you, you do have enough on your shoulders and i want to help you as much as i can. i hate to ask, but you mentioned ‘wizards’ and i am a bit confused.

all my love

initially, draco went into shock. he knew he was probably oversharing, but didn’t expect to slip up in that way. he begrudgingly admitted; knowing that if this went badly he would likely be banished from the wizarding world, which didn’t seem like such a horrible punishment to him anymore. and yet she was fascinated, by the coins he sent her, the subjects he learned- which she compared to her own much less exciting ones, and everything he told her about it. he could now talk to her about much more, since both his secrets were now out in the open to her. he told her about the about the houses, and they both agreed she would probably be in hufflepuff, well he thought so, her kind and accepting nature, and she didn’t know enough to disagree. and for the first time in the long time he was seeing things differently, completely diminishing the rude behaviour he often displayed towards the house.

she even sent him a picture, the first time he ever saw her face. a large smile spread across her beautiful features, she seemed to be laughing. eyes glistening in the sun even prettier than he could have imagined. he slept with it under his pillow, and could stare at the still image for hours. no it didn’t move around, but he couldnt care less. he only had one picture of himself in his possession and he was young, about four. she was facinated by the moving image, his blonde hair and attitude shining right through. he would owl his mother for a more recent one, but didn’t want to explain why.

the letters were helping him, but the task wasn’t advancing. his second attempt had failed, he was caught sneaking into slughorns party, and harry was onto him. they were also causing him doubt. say they did get the cabinet fixed, he couldn’t see himself killing dumbledore anymore, the more he talked to her he realized he couldn’t be a killer, as cold as he was to some people, but he had to, didnt he?

most importantly every letter she sent gave him a sense of hope. that the second this is over he could move. away from voldemort, and potter, his parents even, england in whole. perhaps not to canada, but it could be a change, half way across the world with the girl who was helping him stay alive through his letters. he just needed to stay alive long enough too see her.

the seasons changed around draco, but his room stayed the same. hot from mysterious potions, for himself and some for dumbledore, he had not had much hope after the wine, though. it was lonely, not that he’d like y/n here, he’d much rather be there, all the way across the world.

may came in a blur, and finals were creeping up. one week y/n sat at her desk, every night, waiting for a letter that didn’t come. on the fifth letterless day she cried. not exactly knowing why, it wasn’t her that had much of a reason to cry, but dracos company had filled her lonely life up with light of its own, leaving it darker than it was before she saw the first letter. she was silly to be so attached and silly to expect him to reciprocate the feelings she had proclaimed in the last one she sent, and should have expected him to stop eventually. so she continued on with school, finding it a bit easier to concentrate now that a draco sized whole was missing from her brain, and her heart aswell.

the next week, though, a letter came, very appreciated by y/n as the whole other universe, british boy forgetting thing wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

y/n

im sorry for not writing, the classmate i mentioned all those months ago woke from the curse, and the potter twat hexed me with a spell id never heard of before. i would have tried to contact with you but i couldn’t exactly trust what my brain was planning on writing, and the cuts are still a bit sore. the cabinets fixed, but even if everything works out okay i won’t be writing very much at all. i’ll be home in july, but the manor will be infested with death eaters and i can’t let you get hurt. thank you for everything l/n.

draco

it stung a little, knowing that the empty feeling the girl just experienced would be more frequent, he didn’t mention anything about what she had said, and that this could be the last time she ever heard from him if he didn’t kill dumbledore. in hindsight, practically telling her she loved him in a letter wasn’t what he needed, she knew that.

he left out the fact that he the spell put a him in a huge emotinal draught. he was exhausted constantly, crying even more than before. the cuts were sore, so he wasn’t holding everything back.

the last month of school came and went all to fast for dracos liking, and death eaters now roamed around the castle, causing havoc where ever they could. his trunk had been shurken so small it looked like a small muggle toy he put into his pocket easily. the dark mark that was stretched across his left arm was now hanging in the gray sky, and the headmaster was no where to be seen. he paced anxiously around a vacant corridor until he heard a pop in the astronomy tower. he didn’t think people could apparate into hogwarts, it would have made his job much easier.

‘harry, get snape, i need snape now’ he seemed exhausted, maybe this wouldn’t be as hard

‘sir im going to sit you down okay, and then ill go get madam pomf-‘

‘severus, harry, I need severus now, go get him and talk to no one else’ he said in a shallow yet somewhat urgent and angry tone.

draco waited for footsteps to disappear, before whipping the door open with his wand already ready.

‘oh hello, draco, nice to see you on this fine evening’ he said nonchalantly, leaning his weight against the wall.

‘EXPELLIARMUS’ draco boomed, successfully disarming the man without counter attempts before glancing around to see a second broom

‘who else is here?’ he said sounding confident but feeling the opposite

‘i could ask you the same question, acting alone are you? you don’t seem supported’

‘no, there are death eaters in your school tonight, and i got them here’ he snarked ‘they’ll be up, any minute now, their fighting down below. i’ve got a job to do’

‘well done boy, if you don’t mind me asking a few questions, before you get on with it, im very intrested’ was he kidding? he knew draco was about to kill him right? wanting to stall, and not fully wanting to kill him he nodded his head yes.

‘you seem scared to act until they join you

‘im not scared, you should be scared’ he snarled, unable to contain the fear in his voice any longer any longer

‘oh draco’ he sighed ‘while we wait for your friends arrive, care to explain how you smuggled them in here? i never imagined it possible, especially not by a student’

‘i had to mend the broken cabinet that no ones used for years, there’s another one in borgin and burkes. montague got stuck in told everyone stories about it, how he could sometimes hear what was going on in the shop and sometimes hear hogwarts like a passage, and i was the only one who discovered what it meant. not even borgin, not you either, i did it right under your nose, you didn’t realize anything’ he said

‘you are right, i didn’t know that. i do- on the other hand, know that you aren’t a killer’

he raised his wand a little higher, feeling wheezy and as though his legs would give in any second

‘how you know that, I’ve done despicable things, you wouldn’t even be able to fathom’

it was dumbledore’s time to pause, glancing up at the sky and looking around the room before continuing

‘draco i know you almost killed katie bell and ron weasley. you’ve been trying to kill me all year, forgive me for saying this, but they’ve been very feeble attempts. to be honest ive wondered wheather your heart has truly been in it’

‘it has, and if you knew why didnt you stop me’

‘snape has been watching over you on my orders’

‘ it’s not on your orders, he promised my mother-‘

‘ofcourse he would tell you that, but it happens to be that i trust professor snape’

‘your losing it then, he’s a double agent, he isn’t working for you- he’s been trying to get in on the action all year, helping me and all. doesn’t matter now- he probably doesn’t even know they are here yet, he will wake up tomorrow and no longer be the dark lords favourite, he will be nothing compare to me’ confidence was building within him

‘very gratifying, we all like being recognized for our hard work, but, draco?im standing here wandless and weak, unable to defend myself, and you have not made any move to kill me, dont blame me for believing you will not, but let’s discuss your options’

‘my options’ he laughed ‘im standing here with a wand, about to kill you’

‘oh dear boy, if you were going to kill me you would have when you disarmed me, not stayed for a little chat’

‘i haven’t got any options, don’t you understand, i have to kill you, or he will kill me’

‘okay, if you don’t want to join the order with your mother where we could protect you, i only have one more question’

‘better hurry, theyre on their way’ he almost laughed which was quickly replaced when Dumbledore said his next words.

‘who is y/n l/n’ at that a tear fell down dracos face, and he lowered his wand almost completely

‘i-i don’t know who that is, odd l-last words’ he stuttered

‘draco dont play dumb now, not after we discovered you are very intelligent. we left some of the security measures from last year that Umbridge enabled, and I couldn’t help but notice hundreds of letters flowing to and from her. i looked into student files, ilvermornies too, nothing, id never heard the name, a muggle i presumed. but of all the things, that had me the most confused. i couldn’t figure out why you would be contacting her, so i did some meddling’

‘WHAT DID YOU DO’

‘fiesty all the sudden, are you? i felt bad after opening this, it seemed very personal, and i probably should given it too you sooner, but i was a bit preoccupied double checking my drinks and all’ dumbledore said handing him the letter.

draco

how is the cabinet coming? it’s raining even more here than usual, all day and night. and don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. you are just a kid, you shouldn’t be forced to be a hero. you are protecting so many people right now, but i don’t need any. you have given my life enough light in the last few months than i ever recall, and im so thankful that letter came to me. i wish you were here with me right now, but i know you can’t be, so just stay alive, okay?

y/n

more tears fell, he hated being so weak at the mention of her, crying before he completed the blessing his father and bellatrix considered the task to be.

‘she’s right, draco, you deserve another chance’

he was speechless, and could tell Dumbledore knew he found his weakness.

‘i always pictured you and pansy, never in a million years imagined you to be in a relationship with a muggle’

‘no matter who does it, your about to be killed, and im not here to discuss my love life am i?’

‘so you do love her?’ before draco could even think he heard a door open and raised his wand, hiding the letter faster than he had ever moved.

‘shut up, they will kill her’ he said quietly and desperately

in walked fenrir greyback, yaxley, and bellatrix. they made banter of their own, but her words replayed. he couldn’t do it.

‘go on draco’ his aunt whispered into his ear, making him shiver.

‘DO IT, DO IT BOY’ she yelled, in a high pitched and annoying voice

he felt a strong arm over his chest, pushing him aside, and he saw the whoosh of snapes robes and an already pleading dumbledore

‘severus, please’

‘AVADA KEDAVRA’ snape shouted, a green flash producing from the end of his wand, hitting the old man square in the chest. draco rushed over to the edge, watching him fall. it was a long way down.

the rain had sudsided, sunlight leaking into her room during the day. watching the sky at night, failing to find constellations he described many times to her. her wardrobe was mostly untouched, remaining in pyjamas most of the week. the odd time she did leave, she saw her old friends walking and laughing out her car window. eating and socializing felt like a chore, and she hadn’t communicated with the boy since may. he could be dead, she didn’t know. there was no death on the ‘muggle’ news, and draco wasn’t on the top wanted list, not that he likely would be on the television all the way over here. he could be fine, in wiltshire, going to dinner parties and holding balls. or maybe, he too, was sitting in his room staring at the ceiling for days on end. she had now hung the picture of a young draco by her desk, not needing to worry about anyone seeing. her siblings were once again home, but out living their lives so much that it still felt like they were gone. for the first time she noticed his scroll on the back.

‘i was four when this was taken i believe, my hair is very similar, i was quite sassy, im sure that shows without explanation.’ she blushed while reading, it was true. his hands were on his hips whipping his head around.

every day was a surprise around malfoy manor. not the kind of surprise draco liked. not the feeling of butterflies in his stomach when he read y/ns letters, those were replaced by a pit as they were summoned around the large table in the dining room. the first one he attended was horrible, watching his muggle studies teacher being hung above their heads, pleading for the help of severus as she died. he bit his tongue in an attempt to avoid raging about about every comment surrounding muggle culture. each one tore his heart, as he imagined the girl all those kilometres away, the girl he had no contact with, but he looked at her picture as much as possible, and hoped one day he could make her smile again like she did in the image.

senior year was here, and y/n schedule picked up once again. her timetable was full, maybe it was best, a distraction, after a whole summer of thinking alone in her room. draco was on her mind at night, no matter how hard she tried to forget. she’d made friends with her creative promotions partner, logan. he was certainly not intrested in her in anyway besides friends, but company after all this time was enjoyable, just in the hour of class

draco had little privacy, with death eaters in every hallway, conversing with eachother. wherever he went someone was there, until he finally got sick of it and began going to the garden bench. with a book, sometimes, giving some of the sappy love stories y/n mentioned a try or even the poetry books she sent with noctua awhile back, they were okay, but his heart hurt at the feeling of relation in every line. he could only read one or two poems at a time, without tears forming in his green orbs.

sometimes he went with a pen and a notebook. he wrote about everything. the smell of the plants around him, the feeling in his chest when the dark lord called for a meeting. most of the notebook, though, was filled with poems of his own. and letters he had no intention of sending for her own safety. she wasn’t in harms way, though, other followers were preoccupied with ruining weddings and other things they considered fun. he blabbered on for pages, about how he missed seeing noctua fluttering towards him at breakfast. how he rereads the letter that dumbledore gave him the night he died. how she listened to him rant on and on, giving her support no matter how evil he felt. how he found love where it wasn’t supposed to be.

snow was falling once again, he had to dress in layers, making it hard to write often, the plants started dying as cold settled over and his mother no longer babied him like she used to before the death eaters began inhabiting the mansion. he couldn’t keep himself company any longer and gave into the pressure he put on himself. as long as they were careful, she’d be in no destruction- he prayed as he wrote what seemed to be an appropriate response after all this time.

like it had been decades, she flinched at the noise of the owl on the window, carrying a much larger scroll that he’d ever sent before, some parts scratched out and written above. his writing was much less tidy than she remembered, like the letters on the page were anxious for her reaction.

love,

after all this time, im sorry you are just now hearing from me. you have ever single right to be annoyed with me, after you listened to me for months, helping me emotionally in ways i never be able to repay you for. you do not need to forgive me, or write me back. i just wanted to keep you safe. but i needed to tell you everything before it might actually be to late. you’ve probably moved on and forgotten about me, like you should, but i guess im saying that i am alive. i didn’t kill him either. snape did. i thought i was going to be able to, but he started talking about you. he gave me a letter from you that he had already opened, the words repeated in my head over and over. you talked about how i deserved another chance, and how you wish I’d was there with you. right before he died he asked me if i loved you. i knew the answer but didn’t have time to say it. ive read your poetry books, they aren’t as bad as i once thought, i can’t read to many at once. i try to forget what dumbledore said that night, and that night altogether. but one day i read ‘that’s how you know you love someone, i guess. when you cant experience anything without wishing the other person was there to see it too.’ when i sit in the garden i imagine you smelling the flowers, myself picking one and putting it behind your ear. when i go on walks i imagine your hand in mine. youre in my dreams. my never ending thought. i remember the way i felt when we started talking a lot, and how I felt when we didn’t get a chance. you listened to me when no one else offered. not even my parents. i hope your doing okay, and smiling and laughing. i don’t care if we talk about absolutely nothing, i just want to talk to you. i know that’s unfair to you after all ive weighed on you. but i guess that’s all, i love you. draco ♡

well this certainly didn’t get him off her mind. she didn’t need to either. ofcourse she was going to write him back, but she needed time to think about her response. she missed the next day of school, and his owl was comfortably standing on her desk, nibbling away at the water and crumbs. she took an hour long shower, multiple naps, raided her fridge, and had to email the school pretending to be her mum, excusing her for the day. before she even knew what she was going to write, she began on a new piece of paper. she’d have thought longer, but was sure draco would be convinced she stole noctua out of anger.

draco,

wow. i don’t really know what to say. i knew you weren’t a killer, and i meant what i said about you deserving more chances. i will admit i was angry, and a bit confused. i sent that letter with high hopes. i don’t know what i was hoping for at the time, i was being incredibly selfish. but couldn’t help myself feel pained when you didn’t mention it in the next letter when you said harry hexed you. i know we can’t be together, especially not right now, but i love you too. i wish more than anything you were here with me right now, and it was you i’d be graduating with half a year from now. i wish you were in the passenger seat of my car while i drive through the city. i wish you could point out the constellations in the sky. i usually can’t read to many poems either, they get me thinking to much. im ready to write again if you are.

y/n

draco hadn’t felt more joy in a long time. around seven months. she loved him, and that was enough happiness for a life time. he just needed to stay alive.

they continued to stay in touch, almost as if they never stopped talking, entertaining eachother as much as possible, masking their separate misery and the distance between them. he could get time away from the reality that was his life for a while, he thought, until snatchers brought the trio he spent so long bickering with to the manor.

a very distorted looking harry fell before him, his hair tightly gripped by bellatrix.

‘well, is it him’ he knew it was harry. and yet a part of him couldn’t bring himself to letting the boy get killed.

‘i can’t be sure’ he lied

‘draco, look closely son’ lucius said loudly, getting a grip on the back of dracos neck before leaning in and whispering.

‘if we are the ones that hand potter to the dark lord, all will be f-forgiven. a-all will go back to how it was’

his father and the and a snatcher quickly got into an arguement. lucius was yelling something about the manor before narcissa calmed him with a hiss.

‘don’t be shy, sweetie come here take a closer look’

draco was know level with him. the scar was still visible on his forehead, and swollen eyes staring back at him, hopeless.

‘what’s wrong with his face’ draco said

‘yes what is wrong with the boys face’ a shrill voice repeated

‘he was like that when we got him, something he picked up in the forest i reckon’

bellatrix walked away, laughing away at something. the blonde boys eyes were still on harry, before he felt a tap on his shoulder. bellatrix began acting out, yelling about a sword, putting ropes around snatchers neck from the end of her wand. sword now in her hand she walked over to ronald weasley, grabbing his collar and demanding that the boys be put in the cellar.

a different draco would have gladly watched a mudblood be tortured by his aunt. but he flinched at every scream of hermione, unable to watch he went to the next room, resisting tears as he thought of the girl he fell for enduring the same. she had moved onto the goblin- ridiculing it about who got into her vault- and hermiones screams were now gone.

‘youre lucky, goblin, the same won’t go for this one’ he heard footsteps

‘like hell it wont’ he heard ron yell, followed by the expelliarmus and what must have been harry stupefying his father. draco rushed in, now dueling a more normal looking harry, until their attention caught on bellatrix, a knife to grangers throat. they dropped there wands, and he did as instructed, picking them up. lucius was summoning the dark lord when they heard a tittering on the ceiling, and the chandlier crashing. it all moved so fast and harry was now wrestling draco for his wand back. he tried, but harry had already pried it out of his cold and shaky hands.

‘STUPID ELF. THAT COULD HAVE KILLED ME’

‘dobby never meant to kill. dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure’ the house elf squeaked, and draco had never resisted a chuckle so hard.

‘HOW DARE YOU TAKE A WITCHES WAND. HOW DARE YOU DEFY YOUR MASTERS’

‘dobby has no master, dobby is a free elf, and he has come to save Harry Potter and his friends.’ and with that they apparated out, not without bella throwing a knife into the mix.

meanwhile, y/n was receiving letters of her own. not from draco either. letters from the schools she applied to. so far everything was good, except for princeton, but she didn’t have the highest expectations. she was accepted to the university of british columbia, seattle university, even ucla. she only had one letter left, and the large stuffed yellow envelope sat in her hands. she wasn’t sure about it- would she even be able to go to the univeristy of london? it was far, but draco was there, well closer to there atleast. accepted- it read. it was an option, and she still had weeks to think about it.

draco was very hesitant to write after the incident at the manor, the screams of Hermione, and the terrifying looking potter still vivid in his brain and nightmares. he often woke from sleep in a sweat, yet freezing cold. whispers of the war around his house also haunted his mind and soul. he’d walk to the window and look up at the the stars, they were under the same sky, at least. eventually he had to write her, it had been half a month and he couldn’t leave her hanging alone again.

y/n

love, im sorry for being hesitant, but there is going to be a war. i hate to leave you contact-less, but i need you to be safe now more than ever. i couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt. potter and his friends were brought here to the manor, it didn’t last long- they escaped within the hour and a half. with that doped elf, and a goblin too. if you don’t hear from me again, remember i love you. and always will.

draco

of all the letters y/n had recieved, from draco in all, that was probably the most displeasing. a war? like with tanks and bombs? tears were shedding down her face as she wrote the shortest response yet. knowing he most definitely didn’t have time to listen to her talk about schools, and how she got accepted to london, but her parents deemed it to far, ubc would have to do, she’d find her way to him eventually, if they were meant to be.

draco

stay safe, i love you.

yn.

draco now stood at snapes new office, dozens of corpses on the floor, pooled in blood. the dark lord speaking parsel tounge to nagini. no one needed to speak it to know that the man was infuriated about something potter had done.

the information he left was lacking, was he serious? what did wizarding wars even look like? her graduation date was set, June 6th, but it all seemed irrelevant, suddenly picking out a dress didn’t seem as fun as she thought, same with getting portraits taken. should she have said more?

next thing he knew the protection spell was countered and he apparated in, grabbing zabani and goyle by the collar. rushing them into a corridor and waited for the door of the room of requirement to completely vanish before approaching himself. they successfully found harry, opening a box carefully before finally drawing attention to themselves.

‘well well, what brings you here, potter’ draco said, softly, much to his surprise as he meant it to sound snarky and rude

‘i could ask you the same’

‘i believe you have something of mine, and id like it back’ was he becoming… kind?

‘whats wrong with the one you have?’ harry replied

‘it’s my mothers, powerful but different, doesn’t fully understand me, im sure you know the feeling’

‘why didn’t you tell her. bellatrix? you knew it was me, and you didn’t tell her’ he wasn’t exactly sure what to say, nor did he know. harry really didn’t have anything to do with his feelings for y/n, maybe he should have just turned in him when he had the chance, it would all be over if he had.

‘don’t be a wuss draco, just do it now’ goyle whispered in his ear, making him chill the same way bellatrix did on the astronomy tower, almost a year ago.

‘expelliarmus’ hermione half shouted, causing narcissas want to fly out of dracos hands and run the other way.

‘avada kedavra’ goyle missed and weaslebee started chasing after them, yelling something about his girlfriend. turning back around after goyle unsuccessfully casted the fiendfyre curse.

fear was making his body almost rattle as he desperately climbed bookcases in an attemp to outrun the flames. he watched goyle fall, into the orange. yes, he was a complete and utter twat, but wasn’t a half bad friend during dracos bullying peek. his foot slipped, now just his hands were keeping him up, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. in the distance he saw the three, zooming off to safety in the distance, leaving them their to die. not that he blamed them, after anything he did to them, he would have probably left himself there aswell.

but potter was flying towards him, arm out-stretched, grabbing onto his own and hoisting himself on the broom. had he already died? must not have, because the heat had finally caughten up. feeling as though he was going to pass out, he gripped tighter onto harry, maintaining his position on the broom. so much for staying safe. the second they made it out, they crashed onto the ground. he wanted to thank harry, but found himself running off instead.

explosions and hexes were being sent everywhere. people dying left and right. giants and trolls and spiders helping, he found himself in the slytherin common room. partially because he wanted to say goodbye, as he never wished to return to the building again once he had the choice. and partially as he was now aware of a large burn on his arm, and he felt a need to put off fighting until absolutely necessary. he entered through the portrait, for the last time. it felt like an aquarium, looking out upon the lake filled windows, merpeople and the giant squid often zooming by. he sat down upon the sofa, where he spent countless hours avoiding homework, plotting against potter and swimming in lust of his pure-blood status that now felt like a curse. he went up to his dorm, where he did very similar things. he wondered as to what he would be doing if he was a muggle right now. picking out a suit for graduation, buying a corsage for his date, but he wasn’t, so he best get going. running his hands along the furniture before leaving, not looking back.

the noise in the entrance courtyard had completely been diminished and draco found his way into the crowd of students pooling in. death eaters swarmed towards them at a painfully slow place, his mother and father near the head of the group. he noticed hagrid, towering above them, carrying what could only have been harrys corpse.

he watched carefully as they approached, trying to wedge himself inbetween and behind other students.

‘harry potter is dead’ voldemort paused ‘from now on, you put your faith in me’ silence fell over the hundreds of people who were know gathered. he swished his robes and turned backwards facing his followers

‘HARRY POTTER IS DEAD’ obnoxious and deafening cackles erupted

‘and now is the time to declare yourselves. come to our side, or die’ even more silence fell.

‘draco’ his father hissed before repeating ‘draco’

he felt eyes fall all over him, gazing expectantly. tears ran down his face.

don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. was this what she meant? he’d been looking for another chance, maybe this was it.

he shook his head no, and noticed his father had fallen a shade of pale he didn’t know existed.

‘Draco, DRACO’ he yelled, clearly enranged, but before he could continue - a movement shifted in hagrids arms, and harry fell out. in a heartbeat draco threw his wand to the scar faced boy. he caught it, looking grateful as he could while casting some sort of spell at nagini. death eaters were disappearing into the air- including lucius, narcissa being dragged with him.

draco didn’t know what to do with himself, he was wandless and he couldn’t fight, unless he wanted to engage in an actual physical duel, which he didn’t. he found himself in the great hall, asking professor sprout if she needed help patching those up, she pulled him into a hug, unexpectantly. he never recalled such contact or connection with a professor. he spent the rest of the battle helping healing wounds with dittany, and caring for those left in the wake. it was a nice distraction from the fact he would most definitely be disowned, left a family-less orphan at 17.

y/n couldn’t blame him for not writing, he clearly stated that it might be the last time. but every night she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore, or until she fell asleep. how could she like him so much? they’d never even met. she didnt really need to see him to know him, his letters told him enough about him. and she could only hope- that if he managed through his six year without killing his headmaster, he could make it through the war.

he delayed going back to the manor for as long as possible, until he decided to apparate directly into his room. he considered packing his things up, but realized no one was home. he was thankful, he don’t think he would ever be able to fully confront his parents again. he fell asleep in his bed, and slept for 48 hours straight. he slept through very vivid dreams, ones of y/n being tortured the same way as Hermione, ones of the dark lord coming alive once again and killing his mother because of his choices. he couldn’t bring himself to sleep again purposefully, no matter how exhausted he was. the days weren’t much better, his mind raced at unbelievable paces. he saw the dead bodies laying around the great hall, the unrecoverable ones. maybe he should have just fallen into the fire, surely that would have been easier. he was slowly becoming thinner, and always needed multiple blankets to even stay at a somewhat warm temperature, his heart beat faster than normal. he often felt pains in his neck, and his eyes were almost always puffy from crying. he spent so much time in bed he almost didn’t hear his owl flutter onto his nightstand mid afternoon, a small package tied loosely around his neck.

he opened it to see a letter, muggle candies and a worn book. suddenly he felt more awake, and be shot up a little to fast then he should have, sitting on the edge of his bed.

draco.

i don’t know where you are, or if youre alive, if youre reading this now. i hope this doesn’t arrive at a bad time. but your 18 now, so happy birthday. if you are seeing this, i still love you. i think about you all the time. i hope you are okay, and safe. in case you don’t end up writing me back, i just thought I’d give you some random information to keep you company and away from your mind. i graduate tomorrow. i look at your picture everyday. I remember what you once told me about following my dreams, so instead of medicine, im going to study literature and business next year. im staying in kelowna aswell for now, hoping maybe you’ll be able to visit someday. im sure you’d like it. my favourite colour is still green. i don’t know what else to say.

always here to listen if you’d like to talk. yn.

was it actually his birthday? had it already been a month since the war? it felt like a year but the visions played over and over like it was yesterday. it took him awhile before it clicked. the war was over, Voldemort was dead and there was no one to stop him from seeing her. he completely disregarded the lightheaded feeling he got when he stood up to fast- and rushed to his wardrobe. it took him a bit longer than he thought to pack up all his clothes, including the thousands of letters he kept hidden in a large drawer. the trunk was a bit heavier than he may have thought, and he ended up needing to take a car, in fear that he may not be able to apparate successfully to the airport without injuring himself. he quickly found out that muggle travelling was harder than he thought, and security and customs were also apparently a thing that all people needed to get through.

he wrapped himself in his cloak and didn’t get a drop of sleep the whole plane ride. it was nighttime when they flew over montreal, and then toronto. the sun rose as they crossed through winnipeg, regina, and calgary. he didn’t know this himself ofcourse, but he aggressively hit the map on the screen in front of him, desperate to know where he was. he only got an hour of half decent sleep before he felt rattling of the plane landing, and he gripped tightly onto the arm rests. he struggled for half an hour before he even got sight of his luggage on the moving thing that went round and round. compared to London, kelownas airport was very small and easy to navigate. the air outside was hot, making draco feel even more self concious about his clothing choices.

y/n put her hair back into a twist with a clip taking a suprising amount of effort to make sure it looked okay. her makeup was natural looking, nothing crazy but she looked gorgeous none the less. she slipped into her black romper, some canadians didn’t wear their fancy dresses to convocation, only something simple to go with the cap and gown. she arrived at the ceremony, seeing everyone, with excited smiles and laughs, conversing amongst themselves. and every memory came rushing back. they sat in rows on a stage, listening to the heartfelt and extremely cheesy speech the staff made every single year. she’d never noticed how many kids were in her age group until they were being called up one by one.

‘alex can’

‘ruth lee’

and the list went on and on until finally

‘y/n l/n’ the moment had come, and she shook everyone’s hand, receiving her diploma and flipping her caps tassel to the left. ‘y/n is staying around next year, and attending the university of british columbia okanogan, good luck l/n’ her principal said and claps continued like they had and the rest of the list finished sooner, or seemed to go by faster, she wasn’t sure.

draco had never had to find a taxi by himself, but once he did he gave the driver the only place he knew, the address he saw on the top corner of her first response almost two years ago.

y/n pulled away from the school grounds, watching them disappear in her rear view mirror. it was hot with a breeze, but she smiled the whole way home. she’d done it, made it through every assignment and class, dealt with attention hungry bitches, and crappy teachers. the next door was truly opening. pulling up to her house, and closing her car door as she hopped out, she watched her feet carry her up to the house. turning the corner, she saw him, sitting there on her steps, a present wrapped horribly in his hands, looking very out of place in his black cloak. she stopped in her own steps and he hesitantly stood up, before she launched herself into his arms breathing in his cologne, finally together after all this time.

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equustenebris · 3 years

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New drabble time! The Mad Ducktor falls off the top of the Money Bin, but things don't go as expected when he drags himself to the hospital.

Bill is apparently the name I’m giving Gyro's unseen sibling, Newton's father. It was meant to be a temporary placeholder name for me but I guess it's stuck, so this is me committing to it. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also, so car-cans have an official English name, coco-no-nos, but that is not happening lmao. I try to use the official English names wherever possible, but I prefer "car-can" so much more that I'm keeping it.

This was supposed to be a really short drabble aksjfnsb IT GOT AWAY FROM ME

for Whumptober 2021

Eight. Coughing Up a Lung

Prompt - pneumothorax

He staggered back into his hideout, gasping for breath, holding his aching side. Well, that little escapade could have gone better. The tumble he had taken from the top of the Money Bin, courtesy of Mr. McDuck, was a lot longer drop than it looked like from the ground. Fortunately, nothing was majorly injured -- except maybe his ego.

So the direct approach worked about as well as his broken shrink ray, which is to say, not at all. Clearly, next time he needed to do a lot more field testing before he showed up at his nemesis's with a new invention. Having a Plan B couldn't hurt either, lest he get unceremoniously shot off the side of the Money Bin again. He was beginning to understand how Magica still hadn't swiped the Dime despite literal magic at her fingertips; that old man was fierce, and an excellent shot with that salt-loaded blunderbuss.

He closed his eyes, slumping into his desk chair with a miserable groan. Well. He might be covered in bruises, but at least he had managed to escape before the Duck Avenger showed up, so there was that. Small favors.

He winced, carefully tugging off his cape and gloves, not exactly eager to see the damage. His coat followed, admittedly more difficult to remove with the searing burn in his side. He bristled suddenly, seized by a coughing fit. Oh, how his lungs ached -- having to make a fast getaway all the way back to his hideout in the shipping district from Killmotor Hill was definitely not his idea of fun.

He managed to finally peel off his jumpsuit, carefully lifting his undershirt to get a better look. He winced, flinching. His entire left side was already smattered in deep, large bruises and scrapes, feathers speckled with dried blood. It looked bad, he supposed, but nothing a long epsom soak couldn't take care of, and a few days' rest.

He abruptly doubled over, fitfully coughing again, each little movement sending sharp pain tearing through his side. Worryingly, when he finally managed to soothe the tickling in his chest, he struggled to catch his breath. For a few moments he just gasped, each breath laborious, like sucking air through a straw. Maybe it was just the pain? Maybe he bruised the lung? Can you bruise a lung? (Despite the play on words for his villainous title, he was an inventor, not a doctor.)

The pain only seemed to be getting worse. He struggled to his feet, figuring maybe he could start a bath now to help soothe himself, but only made it a few steps before he was seized by another coughing spell, covering his beak with his hand. This time, however, when he finally managed to catch his breath, his palm sparkled with bright red blood.

"Oh...no," he managed breathlessly, dread sinking through his stomach. So yes, he was not a doctor -- but clearly he was going to need one.

---

"Gyro Gearloose?"

He struggled to his feet, following the nurse to the ER bed. Somehow, he had managed to pull on his other self's familiar clothes, and more or less pinned down his head feathers for the blond wig. Breathing was getting more difficult by the minute, but he couldn't exactly go to the hospital as the Mad Ducktor, so his thrown-together Gyro disguise would have to do. Fortunately, the staff was already pretty familiar with Gyro after all of his mishaps in the lab, and didn't ask him for the ID he didn't have. Small favors -- that were rapidly growing smaller in light of the circumstances.

He groaned, lying back on the bed, preparing for the long, mind-numbing wait for the doctor. The long, painful wait, breathing like someone had a weight set on his chest. He closed his eyes, just trying to rest in the meantime, drowsily drifting in and out of sleep as he shivered under the thin, scratchy sheet.

It wasn't long, however, before he was roused by an extremely familiar voice out in the hallway. "Uh, let's not tell your dad about this one, okay?"

"Yeah, Uncle, I think that's probably a good idea... It doesn't hurt that bad, though."

"Yeah, but we should still get it checked out. I'm sorry, Newton. I can see there's still a few bugs to work out!"

He startled awake, heart suddenly slamming in his chest. Here?! Of all the places in all the city, Gyro Gearloose had to be here?! He panted breathlessly, panic rising, sweat beginning to prickle down the back of his neck. He was a wanted criminal, and if Gyro or any of the staff found out about his little deception, his goose was cooked. But what exactly was he supposed to do?

"Hey, Uncle...why are you listed on the board?"

"Hmm?"

"Under the list of patients, look, it says 'Gyro Gearloose' Shouldn't it be my name? Oh, no, wait, there's 'Newton Gearloose' already over on that side..."

"What?"

"Yeah. Do you think you're on there by mistake? Someone should probably tell them."

The Ducktor squeezed his eyes shut, just struggling for breath. Well, come what may, there was certainly nothing he could do about it now.

There was a soft rustling at the curtain separating the Ducktor from the rest of the emergency room. Gyro gave a warning shh to his nephew, then pulled it back, peeking in. The Ducktor met his eyes, wanting to call to him, wanting to say anything, but the air he had to speak with was suddenly gone; he started coughing again, ending the fit with a pained yelp.

Newton made a murmur of confusion, but Gyro quickly slipped inside and pulled the curtain shut behind him. "What are you doing here?!" he demanded, hissed in a low whisper.

The Ducktor wanted to respond to that with some snarky quip, some aggressive hey, captain obvious remark -- but as he struggled for air, he just shook his head, eyes pleading. "I can’t breathe," he whispered back, clutching the sheets.

Gyro's face abruptly softened, as if he hadn't even considered the possibility that his evil counterpart might be at the hospital for a reason. "Are you sick?"

He shook his head, trying to keep his voice low and words short. "I fell," he gasped, grasping his side to illustrate. He decided it was probably for the best that he not share why he fell, or from where.

"Uncle?" Newton attempted to pull back the curtain, but Gyro quickly pinched it shut.

"Just wait, Newton." He turned back to the Ducktor with an uncertain sneer. "He's got a burn on his arm we're getting checked out. A...bit of a mishap with a new invention of mine." He frowned, looking the Ducktor over, considering, then quickly fluffed up his head feathers and took off his button-down, untucking his T-shirt underneath to attempt to change his appearance. "Okay, Gyro. If you can promise me you're not planning to hurt anybody, then Bill and Newton will go wait to see the doctor."

The Ducktor gave a short, breathless laugh, stunned at this sudden change of fortune, and Gyro's unexpected generosity. "Not hurting anyone," he gasped, trying to suppress another cough, "just -- need help."

Gyro nodded, frowning, and slipped out of the curtain and back to Newton, shirt over his arm. "C'mon, Newton, just -- call me Dad for now. I’ll explain later..."

He closed his eyes again, resting back against the hospital bed with a pained wheeze. Not so small favors.

---

Nearly three hours later, he stumbled out of the emergency room, limping, the one pain pill they gave him barely blunting the searing ache. A collapsed lung, they said, but not bad enough to warrant any treatment except waiting and watching. Try to rest and try not to cough. As he began dragging himself on the long journey back to his hideout, badly suppressing another coughing fit, he wondered how exactly he'd be able to do either of those things.

He was so distracted by the pain, he didn't immediately recognize the car that had pulled up beside him at the edge of the hospital parking lot. Hesitantly, Gyro rolled down the window, peeking his head out. "...do you need a ride?" he asked, concern knitting his brow.

As much as he wanted to say no, he found himself already eagerly tugging open the back door. "Yes," he gasped, still struggling for air, "the shipping district."

Gyro frowned to himself, stealing a glance to the anxious-looking Newton squirming in the passenger seat. It had been a long time since he'd gotten to see his nephew. He'd certainly grown. The Ducktor thought he heard his other self mumble something like I hope I don't regret this as he began driving, but he was far too caught up in the elation of not having to walk to care.

Newton peered back at him over the seat, looking uncertain. The Ducktor sat back, just trying to rest.

"...are you the Mad Ducktor?"

He opened his eyes and refocused, trying to concentrate through the pain medication haze. "Yes."

"Oh." He paused for a moment, contemplative. "...are you okay?"

"Collapsed lung," the Ducktor wheezed, "and a fractured rib. Apparently, I’ll be fine."

"Mm." Newton held up his bandaged arm for the Ducktor to see, grinning awkwardly. "Second degree burn. But I should be healed before Dad comes back next month."

The Ducktor smirked tiredly and nodded, turning his attention back to Gyro. "Go left at the light."

"Do you need any help?" Gyro asked, glancing up into the rear view. The Ducktor sat back, grimacing.

"No," he said finally, shaking his head. "You've done enough. Drop me off here."

"Here? But we're in the middle of nowhere!"

"I’m not leading you to my hideout, Gyro," he rasped. "I’ll walk the rest of the way."

Gyro reluctantly pulled over, parking under a hazy streetlight. "Are you sure?"

But the Ducktor was already out of the car, up on the sidewalk. He went to respond, but ended up in a coughing fit instead, leaning on the car for support, tissues he swiped from the hospital held to his beak. Finally, he managed to gasp a few labored breaths. "I'll be fine."

Gyro looked less than convinced, eyeing the blood-speckled tissues clutched in his hand. "...really, I don’t have to tell the Duck Avenger anything about this."

"Can’t risk it," he muttered, straightening up. "Go take the kid home, it's late."

"...I could take a car-can."

"I'm not doing that to you," he snapped, patience wearing thin. "Just go home."

Gyro paused for several moments, clearly reluctant. Finally, he sighed. "...okay, fine, okay. If you're sure."

"It was nice meeting you," Newton called from the passenger seat, so innocent and genuine that the Ducktor couldn't help but give a breathless laugh.

"Nice 'meeting' you too. Take care of that arm."

"I will."

"Say hi to Bill for me."

"Don’t do that," Gyro warned, looking from Newton back to the Ducktor. "We're going to keep this a secret, okay? Just between us three." He pulled the car out of park, frowning worriedly. "...if you need help with anything, I can help you, all right? Just ask."

"Your generosity knows no bounds, sweetheart," he said, gesturing dismissively. "I’ll make do alone. I always do."

Gyro frowned, hands on the steering wheel. "You might be evil, but you're still a person. You shouldn't have to make do alone." He sat back against the seat, eyeing him up and down. "Take care of yourself, all right?"

"Darling, it's almost like you care."

"I do," he snapped, blurting it out without thinking. There was an aching pause between them before Gyro finally turned away, staring straight ahead though the windshield. "...go get some rest."

"Hm. You too," the Ducktor told him, straightening up and giving the roof of the car a soft couple of slaps. "Thanks for the ride."

"Yeah."

He watched them pull away, waiting for the car to disappear over the horizon before he finally started walking, taking slow, drudging steps back to his hideout. He was ready for a nice warm bath, his bed...and the rest of the long night, all alone. He winced, more than just his lungs and bruises suddenly aching.

#gyro gearloose #mad ducktor #newton gearloose #whumptober 2021 #equus writes #tw: blood #only like...a little #tw: hospital

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kaypeace21 · 4 years

Note

Do you think that the hellfire club is a D&D group or some sport team or what do you think it is? (BTW big fan of your theories)

I think it’s a d&d club. I talked about it in past posts.I think being about d&d makes sense since the game would foreshadow future plot points- like it did in prior seasons . And the “hellfire club” is even an X-men group relating to the dark Phoenix which was referenced in s1 by Will . And I think they’ll take inspiration from that comic book arc for future seasons too . (So it’s an eastergg) . But, also , being called “the hellfire club” is probably an inside joke with the club members- since in the 80s, adults claimed d&d was about devil worship.)

In Bts photos- one of the members has a ‘Wasp’ pin which is a heavy metal band formed in 1982 -so the club is not so shockingly confirmed to be into rock.Along with d&d (if the leaks are legit) . Makes sense since both things are part of counter culture that was demonized by the “satanic panic” in the 80s. In the 80s. D&d (similar to rock music) was believed to be satanic - so the club name (for the club members)is a joke making fun of these people who think that’s true . But also (as a show is) another dark Phoenix ref . One of the s4 movies ‘paradise lost’ (was about a real life case) of small town teens who were into punk music, horror movies, stephen king, wore black, into wicca, and accused of being gay. They were unfairly blamed for ‘ satanic child m**ders (in the woods & near a river). They weren’t guilty . But, because ‘satanic panic’ was still alive and well ...the town’s people used their hobbies/ punk look/ and perceived sexualities as ‘proof” they were guilty. The case was later described as a ‘witch hunt’. Meanwhile the other (more likely suspect) at the time was John “Mark” Byers- who was a hunter, had a thing for hunting knives, religious, admitted to hitting his kids, and was accused of s**ually abusing his son, shot pumpkins (s2 ref), and sang a song about creating a portal to another world without light , that you could enter via a tree (s1 ref). Years later-after the doc- it’s implied he wasn’t guilty either. But, one of the other victims’ fathers - Terry was assumed to be guilty - he was also was accused of m***esting his son and daughter (by his own family members). Admitted to hitting his wife and kids. And had a police report filed on him - describing breaking into a women’s house , while she was in a tub and trying to attack her. He was also formerly charged for m*rdering one of his wife’s family members- but got away with it claiming self defense). Heck if the names John byers/Terry being in the film/st wasn’t crazy enough- the victims were named Steve, Michael, and Chris byers (luckily ours don’t have that same horrible fate/back stories).

I kind of assume - the d&d club will be looked at suspiciously as teens go missing/ kidnapped/ or maybe found k*lled in the woods/quarry. And the cops/others think they’re “satanic k*llings” and rumors about the d&d club insue. And maybe our teens suspect it’s the demogorgan again. But as a subversion- it isn’t and it’s a human . A human that by ab*sing Will- caused Will to unconsciously create many things including the demogorgan (which in d&d is called the “deep father”) . Also, in s3 they called Will “the devil’s baby” (Aka lonnie is the real “devil” ).And such incidents in the woods/ near the quarry would connect back to s1 demogorgan & Will being found in the quarry. And if paying attention you already noticed s1 demogorgan paralleled Lonnie a lot! So s4 would start bringing things to the surface- in regards to how evil Lonnie really is.Not to mention more hints (I previously posted) that hinted they’ll go with this “ch*ld serial ki##er plot line...

But then again I think it may not be literally Lonnie. My guess: Brenner (who I think was created/based on lonnie) is possibly doing failed experiments of teens to open portals (in the basement of pethurst -like in hellraiser 2) . And dumping failed experiments in the woods/water. A few movies had the d*ad victims have numbers carved in them. And then El/kali team up and maybe sneak into the facility (like in ace Ventura people posing as siblings investigate a m*rder and one fakes being ‘crazy’ to sneak in and find a murderer) . In ‘peanut butter solution’ 2 kids - 1 of them is goth/not american teams up with a girl to find a man named ‘senior ‘who is kidnapping kids. 1 of them also sneaks in and is captured on purpose to investigate. Kali already busted Dottie out of a psych hospital and lucas referenced El being there in s1. Alexi (like el-another alter of Will) watches roadrunner- in that papa bear throws him in a psych facility. And assasains creed/dream warriors - the psychiatric facility was similar to the lab with sensory deprivation tanks, cameras, solitary confinement in dark rooms. We already know 1 new character is against the mistreatment of people at the facility. Also the real pethurst (in Pennsylvania) -known for human rights a*use issues- wasn’t a psych facility (but a place for people with intellectual disabilities). So El being at the psych hospital version in Indianna (and maybe having id herself like I mentioned before -would be a nice ref). And in assasains creed- when the character starts sneaking around investigating - the dr reveals how the character is actual the reincarnation of their ancestor ( brenner tells el she’s an alter of Will’s ). And before that the dr was making that person relive the traumatic past of their past life/other person -which they couldn’t change (sort of like el seeing Billy’s past in s3). Also kali said her and El should team up to face their father- which I think they’ll do. And I’m excited about it!

I still think brenner was created by Will and based on Lonnie so he could be responsible and connected to Will/Jon’s backstory with Lonnie/the Woods. In an abstract way. Like how brenner/Lonnie forced their kids to k*ll animals. Brenner threw El in a dark room/ Lonnie threw Will in a trunk. Brenner’s name being associated with the woods and Lonnie being a hunter , etc.

Also we know s4 involves this dark-storyline involving c**ld m*rders cause of foreshadowing

* Also, mentioned here how in s4 rolling a 11 isn’t actually a good thing and that it’s a callback to Will rolling a 7- in s1. Before things go array.In “paradise lost” when blaming the innocent goth boys someone asks the chief “on a scale 1 to 10 how confident are you? You have the right men?” And he laughs and says “11.”

*And , just for historical context of how ‘metal ‘ and ‘scary ‘ d&d was to nonplayers (in the 80s).

“In 1985, 60 Minutes dedicated a full hour to the supposed connection between D&D, Satanic rites, murders and su*cides . 2 years earlier, Patricia Pulling formed Bothered About Dungeons and Dragons (BADD) . She described D&D as ‘a fantasy role-playing game which leads to demonology, witchcraft, voodoo, murder, r*pe, blasphemy, suicide, assassination, insanity, sex perversion, homosexuality, pr*stitution, satanic type rituals, gambling, barbarism, cannibalism, sadism, desecration, demon summoning, necromantics, divination and other teachings.’ In 1987, Peter Leithart and George Grant published The Catechism of the New Age, a pamphlet where they introduced the idea that D&D was immoral because roleplaying allowed too much freedom for critical thinking, which might lead to heretical ideas. That same year, Chris Pritchard and two friends conspired to murder Pritchard’s stepfather in his sleep, the media ignored the obvious financial motivation and instead focused on the men being in the same D&D group.”

( I think quite a few of those themes will come up in s4/5 - although d&d isn’t the actual cause). It’ll just be a subversion.

#stranger things #el hopper #kali prasad #will byers #stranger things theory #s4 theory #d&d #st s4 #s4 bts #DID theory

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lizzy-williams · 4 years

Text

𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦.

∘◦ ☆ ◦∘Warnings: Angst, sad peter, a little bit of fluff but not much.

∘◦ ☆ ◦∘Masterlist

∘◦ ☆ ◦∘A/N: Apparently in the recent Marvel universe, MJ’s name is actually Michelle Jones, not Mary Jane like in the comics and other Spiderman movies. And I couldn’t help but think about the song by Sir Chloe that explains my most recent breakup perfectly, so this may or may not get ~p e r s o n a l~. BTW, there’s gonna be a part 2.

❝𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭...❞

✧ : – 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦, 𝘴𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘭𝘰𝘦 – : ✧

You couldn’t help but feel your heart clench as you looked at the state of Peter Parker in front of you. He was a stuffed up, red-faced, crying mess. He had let you wrap your arms around him, holding him as he cried violently, his body shaking so much almost to the point of vibrating.

He felt as if tears made a permanent river down his face, his body clutching tightly to yours. You knew this was completely platonic, but you also knew that he found comfort in you, he always had, ever since middle school.

And yet you couldn’t help the feelings that developed for your best friend. The more time went on, the more your feelings grew into something almost consuming.

When he got with MJ, you were nothing but sweet and supportive of them both. They were almost glued to the hip. They did everything. Not to mention, Peter had confided in you for advice on... other things. And although it stung, you helped. And the relationships thrived partly thanks to you.

But now it was gone. All gone.

You knew that the couple would have their fights. Peter would panic and apologize, and MJ would usually accept it, but it wouldn’t go without a few snarky comments. And even when it seemed like the problem was other with, it would always end with Peter going home and screaming into his pillow in anger.

But this time, it didn’t seem like they were coming back from this one. You didn’t even know what id was about. Peter just showed up at your front door in tears, so you didn’t have much time to ask any questions accept for “What happened?”

So now, there you two sat, the broken boy practically on top of you, wishing this was all just a bad dream.

After what felt like an eternity, Peter was the first one to break the silence, which caught you completely off guard.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this...,”

His voice was sad and soft, muffled in the fabric of your shirt. You lifted his head up while rubbing his back gently.

“Don’t be. I’m your best friend. I’m glad you came to me, actually,” you said as-a-matter-of-factly, giving him a cheeky smile, where he smirked in response.

“You’re always so good to me, [ y / n ],”

“What do you mean, Pete?” you questioned, his head going back onto your shoulder.

“You’re always there. And on trip to Europe when you and Ned did everything to protect my identity. Or that one time I was working late at Mr. Stark’s lab and you brought me food and you talked to me while I worked,” he paused to sniffle, “And I’ll never forget the time when you decided to do all my homework when I was swamped with patrolling. I got an A on every single assignment you did for me,”

It was no secret you were smart, almost as smart as Peter, and you took pride in that, and you were willing to bet money that you two could take over the world if you really wanted to.

“Well, that’s what friends do.”

“[ y / n ], not even my Aunt May would do half the things you do for me,” he sighed, “You mean a lot to me, is what I’m trying to say.”

Your heart fluttered, his tone all the more driving the point home that he truly meant it.

“Thanks, Pete,” you gave him a small squeeze, and he gave one in return, trying to think of anything else to distract him from the burning ache that rested in his chest.

He knew he was going to miss everything with MJ. The study sessions in the library, the movie nights watching old black and white films, and the sneaking onto the tops of roofs and just laying down and talking about anything and everything.

“She said she hated me.”

Peter’s voice was small and heartbroken, and he could feel his tears threaten to spill again.

“You know she didn’t mean that, you-”

“She did, I know she did,” Peter gritted his teeth, “because I said I hated her too.”

Your eyes widened as you leaned away slightly, “Why would you say that?”

“I dunno, it was the heat of the moment, and I was angry and I didn’t know what I was saying.” Peter’s words spilled out as his tears did as well.

“What could this fight possibly been about where you would say you hated her?” you were almost in shock, not wanting to imagine Peter even saying those words.

“You.”

You felt your throat go dry and guilt sink into your gut. You didn’t even know why they were talking about you, and yet you still couldn’t help but feel almost sick.

“Why would-”

Suddenly, Peter reached up and grabbed your face, latching his lips onto yours. Your eyes widened, a jolt of adrenaline shooting through you, and you pushed him back, Peter immediately obliging, a concerned expression on his face.

You wiggled out and away from him, standing up and off the bed, not wanting to believe what had just happened.

“Pete, what- Why would you-” you took labored breaths, feeling as if you were on verge of a panic attack. You probably were.

“I told her how I felt... about you,” Peter was panicking on what to say next, “ I just- god, my feelings towards you... and she said I was seeing you too much, and we argued. She was jealous of the time we spend together, and then I told her how I really felt about you. She said she hated me, she thought that I lead her on, and I did, but that’s not the point. It’s been you, [ y / n ], it’s always been you.”

“No. No, I’m not going to be the reason someone breaks up, You need to go back to her, Peter.” you felt tears threaten to fall, your hand running though your hair, “Pete, I can’t-”

“Yes you can,” he breathed, standing up, taking your hands gently in his, “Please, I’ve had these feelings for as long as I can remember, and I can’t continue to be with someone that I’m losing feelings for. I love MJ, but I can’t stop my feelings towards you, [ n / n ].”

“Pete, I need you to leave...,” you whispered.

You felt so guilty, so wrong, you felt as if you were selfish and kept him to yourself, even though you had no idea that neither MJ or Peter felt this way. You felt like you were going to throw up, scream even, but instead your throat went dry.

Peter’s breath hitched as he swallowed, hard, “No, no please, we can just talk about this, please don’t put this off. Losing you terrifies me, [ y / n ], it terrifies me to no end. Please, let’s just forget I said that.”

“I can’t, Peter. Because I feel the same. God I’ve loved you for so fucking long. And finding out that I was the reason you broke it off with your girlfriend for me?” You paused to take a breath, “I need space. Just please go.”

“Okay.” he simply said, walking over to the door and opening it, “Don’t let this conversation be over, [ y / n ].”

You avoided eye contact with him as he looked at the ground, gently closing the door.

And that was the first time that Peter Parker had ever had two heartbreaks in one night.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman far from home #mcu #marvel #mr stark i dont feel so good

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starryknight09 · 3 years

Text

Unforeseen dangers ch 9

Summary: As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“How you holding up?” Tony asked Peter as the car pulled into the Tower’s private garage.

Peter shrugged in answer.

His kid had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entirety of the car ride, but Tony didn’t know what else he’d expected. Tony had been raised in the spotlight. It was all he’d ever known, so he found it oddly difficult to put himself in Peter’s shoes and figure out what he was feeling. Instead of prying like he wanted to, he squeezed Peter against his side in a half hug.

“We’re here.” Happy announced unnecessarily as he put the car in park. As much as his current Forehead of Security liked to grump, Tony knew the man hated tense silences just as much, if not more, than he did.

Tony wasted no time opening the car door and stepping out, but he had to duck his head back in when Peter didn’t automatically follow behind him.

“Come on kid. Time to go. As comfy as my car is, you can’t sit in it all day.” He said to Peter who was staring straight ahead, spaced out. Peter blinked and slowly turned his head to take in Tony standing outside the car. Only then did he seem to notice that he was the sole person still left in the car.

“Oh.” Peter said and blinked again before finally climbing out. All his movements seemed slower than usual.

Tony didn’t call him on it. He rested a hand loosely on Peter’s shoulder as they walked over to the elevator together where Bruce, Nat, Happy, and Steve were already inside waiting.

“Penthouse FRIDAY.” He ordered as they stepped in.

“Thanks guys.” Peter finally spoke, although he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground.

“You don’t need to thank anyone.” Tony said before they had a chance to respond.

“You’re dad’s right.” Steve agreed. “We were happy to do it.”

“I needed to get out and get some air anyway.” Bruce added in a transparent attempt to lighten the mood.

Natasha just gave Peter a small smile while Happy let out a noncommittal grunt.

“Where’s everyone else?” Peter asked after another few seconds of silence had passed.

“Meeting us back here. Actually, they probably beat us.” Tony answered.

“Seems like an awful lot of trouble just to pick me up from school.” Peter frowned.

“Nope. No trouble. Everyone missed you and wanted to take their turn to come and get you. We tried rock paper scissors but since everyone on the team’s a sore loser I decided to let them all tag along.” Tony knew he was rambling and so obviously lying, but he didn’t want Peter to know the real reason everyone had shown up to get him, or the way his heart had started racing the moment he found out Peter’s identity had been discovered.

He’d been down in his workshop when Rhodey had come running in yelling his name. “Tony! Tony!”

When he’d heard the fear in Rhodey’s voice, he’d sat up so fast he’d smacked his head on the armor he’d been working on. Rhodey was one of the most unshakable people Tony knew. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen the man truly panic. He didn’t even want to imagine what had happened to add this moment to one of those times.

“What? What happened?” Fear swirled in his gut, visions of someone seriously hurt or dead flashed through his mind. Someone who could make Rhodey look like that. Peter. Pepper.

“Have you seen the news?” Rhodey asked as he held out a hand to help him stand from the floor.

“No.”

“It’s Peter.” Rhodey came right out and said it. He was never one to beat around the bush.

Tony’s eyes widened. “Peter? What about Peter? Is he ok?” His greatest fear brought to life. None of it made sense. Peter should be in school and completely fine. And he didn’t understand how Peter connected to seeing the news. His brain felt like it was trying to reboot, to sort out the information coming at him through his sudden panic.

“He’s fine, but it’s all over the news.”

“What is?”

“He is. Peter. They figured out his identity.”

His first instinct was to panic, but he knew he couldn’t. He had to stay clear headed and figure out what to do. For his kid.

He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath and forced himself to think. When he opened them again, he caught Rhodey staring at him, waiting for his decision on what to do.

“What exactly do they know?” Tony asked. He needed more information in order to work through the problem and figure out what to do next. “That he’s the kid from all the pictures with me?”

“Yes. That…” Rhodey said, but Tony could sense there was something else.

“And? What else?” He prodded, letting his impatience through.

“That he’s your son. That you adopted him.” Rhodey winced as he said it.

That was when the panic returned.

“Fuck.” He sprinted toward the elevator, Rhodey hot on his heels.

“Ok, now just for some perspective, don’t forget he’s Spiderman. He’s not some helpless kid.” Rhodey said as the elevator doors closed behind them.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He spat and pushed the button for the garage three times in succession to make the elevator drop at its fasted velocity.

“Yes.” Rhodey said as if it were obvious.

“Well it doesn’t. My kid’s still in danger, because of his connection to me.” He growled, glaring at his friend. He knew he was displacing all his anger and frustration on Rhodey who didn’t deserve any of it, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to reel himself in at the moment. Besides, as his oldest friend, Rhodey was definitely more than used to taking the undeserved brunt of his mood swings.

“What are you doing?” Rhodey asked as the doors opened and he jogged toward his fastest car.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m going to go get my kid!” He yelled, anger starting to override his fear. He was angry at the world for doing this to his son. Angry at himself for not doing a better job of preventing it. He called himself a futurist, and yet, he hadn’t been able to see this coming soon enough to stop it.

“Wait!” Rhodey called out from right behind him.

Tony ignored him.

“Just wait a minute!” Rhodey grabbed his shoulder.

Tony spun around, fury written on every line of his face. “What?”

“Stop and think Tony. What? You think you’re just going to march in there, grab him and come home? Like it’ll be that easy? The entire world knows he’s your son. They dug into everything they could about him before breaking the story ten minutes ago. They know his parents died and then his aunt and uncle. They know he’s a straight A student. They know he’s on the decathlon team. They know where he goes to school.”

Ice ran down his spine.

“They’re going to be camped out just waiting for you to show up. Waiting for him. For the spectacle of it. You know it. And god forbid, what if more than just the media is waiting? I know you like to joke about it, but you have a lot of enemies and as far as the world knows, your kid’s just a normal kid, completely unguarded at school right now. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but if I wanted to hurt you, this would be the perfect opportunity.”

The hell of it was, he knew Rhodey was right, and not only that, but he couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered it before. This whole thing had shaken him more than he’d realized.

“All it would take is a sniper rifle and a good vantage point, and it’d be all too easy to tag the kid as soon as he stepped outside the school. Just like that.” Rhodey snapped his fingers.

Tony clenched his jaw at the image the words conjured. The logical side of his brain told him that Peter had that sixth sense that would keep him safe from something like that, but the dad side of his brain worried about it not working or worried that even with the warning Peter still might not react fast enough to get out of the way.

“With enough money it wouldn’t be too hard to get a hired hand in place in such a short time frame.” Rhodey continued but his voice had softened. “It’s what I would do.”

Tony closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over them. “Ok. So what do suggest we do then? Not get my kid? Leave him alone and unprotected at school?” He channeled all his fear and anger into sarcasm.

“Of course not.” Rhodey gave him a scathing look.

“What then?”

“We bring the team.” Rhodey said as if the answer were obvious.

So they had.

Within thirty minutes of the news breaking, Clint had positioned himself as a lookout on a nearby roof near the school and Sam and Rhodey had taken to the sky, flying around the area to ensure that all the other rooftops remained clear while Tony made his way to the school entrance along with Bruce and Steve, two of the most invincible Avengers, given Rhodey’s imagined threat of a sniper.

While Happy and Natasha waited in the car, the trio forced their way through the hoard of press already waiting like vultures outside the school. Tony cursed the fact that there was no other entrance near a street because it was going to make getting his kid out a nightmare.

Tony was honestly surprised Peter hadn’t called or texted him yet, but he remembered him mentioning something before about the teachers being strict about cell phone use during class, so maybe he just didn’t know yet.

Inside, the hallways remained quiet and desolate. Kids weren’t running around, excitedly talking, and getting ready to mob Peter at any moment, so class must’ve just started when the news broke. He figured that was the one lucky break in all of this.

The sound of his own phone ringing cut through the heavy silence. He gave the screen a cursory glance, intending to ignore it until he saw the caller ID. Pepper. One of the few people he’d answer a phone call from at a time like this.

“Hey Pep.” He said as he pressed the phone to his ear, trying to keep his voice down. The last thing he needed was some errant student recognizing him.

“Tony? Have you seen the news?” His heart warmed a little at the panic in her voice. She obviously cared about Peter too, which shouldn’t surprise him. The kid was like a puppy. Everyone he met seemed to fall in love with him, and Tony knew the two of them had grown closer over the holidays when she’d helped Peter file the adoption papers for his surprise Christmas present.

“I have.”

“Oh my god. Where are you?”

“I’m at his school. I’m picking him up.”

“By yourself?” He marveled at the way Pepper could make her voice shrill without actually reaching a high pitched decibel.

“No. Of course not.” He decided she didn’t need to know that was what he’d almost done until Rhodey had intervened. “I brought the team.”

“Oh thank god. Just get him back here and then we need to figure out what we’re going to do.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Stay safe.” She ordered, stern but worried, a tone with which Tony was all too familiar.

“I will.” He said, the corner of his mouth turning up as he hung up. It was times like these when he remembered what he and Pepper used to have, and he missed it.

He didn’t know what kind of expression was painted on his face, but whatever it was, it was enough for Steve to remind him, “Focus Tony.”

“Trust me Cap,” he said as he pocked his phone, “I’m as focused as anyone could possibly be right now.”

Steve nodded and within another ten steps they were standing in front of the office door.

Tony turned back to Bruce and Steve as he grabbed the handle. “Let’s go get my kid.”

He swung the door open like he owned the place and did exactly that.

Tony almost couldn’t believe that had all happened within the last hour. He still felt like he was doing catch up with trying to process everything. He couldn’t even imagine how Peter felt.

The elevator finally reached the penthouse and the doors opened, revealing a scene Tony hadn’t been expecting, although in retrospect, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Pepper had kind of warned him with her phone call earlier, but he hadn’t been thinking about it. He’d only been thinking about getting his kid to safety. Which he’d accomplished.

But now he needed to figure out how to approach this entire mess of a situation because it wasn’t going to fix itself. Thus, the reason for why the penthouse was currently filled with his PR employees.

They stepped out of the elevator and into a maelstrom of chaos. It was a scene reminiscent of the time he’d told the world he was Ironman and the resulting backlash. Or the time he’d supposedly asked some Russian model to marry him. He hadn’t. Or the time he’d been quoted as saying he was anti-gun, which hadn’t been true. At the time. Or the time he’d gotten plastered in Vegas and apparently forgotten to clothe his bottom half before stepping out onto his balcony. But all of those things had happened years ago. It’d been quite awhile since he’d been at the center of this kind of media shitstorm.

Pepper noticed him the moment he stepped into the room. She gave him a small smile as she walked over, but she stopped in front of Peter instead of him.

“Oh sweetie I’m so glad you’re ok.” She said as she pulled him into a tight hug.

He seemed a little surprised but didn’t hesitate to hug her back. “I’m fine.”

“I know.” She said as she released him and grasped his shoulders, looking him square in the eyes. “And don’t worry. We’re going to figure this out. We have people whose entire job is dealing with stuff like this.”

“What? A secret son?” Peter joked but it fell flat.

Pepper graced him with a wry smile. “Well, no. This is definitely a first, but you’d be surprised by what we’ve had to deal with when it comes to Tony.”

“Hey.” Tony acted affronted even though he knew she only spoke the truth.

Pepper arched an eyebrow at him.

He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Anyway, what’s the plan?”

“Now that you’re here, we can do a sit down and plan out our immediate next steps.” Pepper said, all business again.

“Uh-huh.” He said, distracted by the shell shocked look on Peter’s face as he took in the room and the dozen or so strangers bustling about.

“But I really think the first thing we need to do is hold an emergency press conference, so we should put together a statement for that as soon as possible.” Pepper continued.

“Yeah.” He frowned and then held up a hand when Pepper started to speak again. “We will definitely do all of that, but first I need a few minutes with my kid.”

Pepper blinked and looked over at Peter, her eyes softening at the obvious distress she saw there even as Peter did his best to try to hide it. “Of course. How about I get everyone together and we meet in the conference room at,” she checked her watch, “3:30PM. That’ll give you fifteen minutes. Is that enough time?”

“Should be.” He nodded and then gripped Peter’s shoulders. “Come on Underoos. Let’s go sit down for a minute.”

Peter let Tony guide him through all the pandemonium to the hallway and into his bedroom. Tony pressed him down to sit at the end of the bed before grabbing the desk chair for himself. He flipped it around and sat, letting his forearms rest on the chair back, going for nonchalant even though he felt anything but.

“So.” Tony said, not quite sure how to start the conversation.

“So…” Peter echoed back, not making it any easier.

“I know this is a lot, so I thought we should just take a little time out. A little breather. And you can tell me you’re thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?” Peter’s eyebrows pulled together like he didn’t understand what Tony meant.

“Yeah. What’s going on in that noggin of yours?”

“I-I don’t know. This is all… This is crazy.”

“It is.” Tony agreed.

“I…I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“There’s nothing I want you to say. I just want you to talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling about this.”

“Um I don’t know. It’s a lot.” Peter shrugged.

“Care to expound on that a little?” Tony asked lightheartedly.

“I guess it’s kind of overwhelming, but it doesn’t really feel like it’s real at the same time? Does that make sense?”

Tony nodded, staying silent to encourage Peter to keep talking.

“And now there are all these people here and there were all those people waiting outside my school and I know everything’s going to change forever and…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Peter trailed off and met his eyes, and Tony hated the fear and desperation he saw there. “It’s just…a lot.” He repeated. “And I guess I didn’t really think this was going to happen. Or if it did, I didn’t think it would be this soon. And I didn’t think it would be like this.”

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what to say to make it better, because there really wasn’t anything he could say, or do, to fix it. The horse was out of the barn. It was done. Over with. Now all they could do was deal with the fallout, and he knew it wasn’t going to be particularly pleasant for him or Peter.

“I’m sorry.” He settled on those two words even though they didn’t have the power to fix anything.

“It’s not your fault.” Peter shrugged.

“Still. I never wanted any of this for you.”

Peter hung his head and picked at the fraying hem on one his sleeves. The kid had a closet full of expensive, brand new, clothing but for some reason it seemed like he always chose to wear whatever he had that was tattered or fraying.

“What’s going to happen now?” Peter asked, looking up at him again.

“Now I’m going to go meet with all those people out there and try to come up with a game plan.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means first I’m going to find out how all this got out and how much everyone actually knows.”

“Ok.”

“And then I’m going to draft a statement to read at a press conference I’m guessing Pepper has already scheduled, probably to start within the next hour.”

“Really?” Peter seemed surprised.

Tony nodded.

“What are you going to say?”

“Depends on what the media has already spilled the beans on and how good their sources are. If they don’t have any proof you’re my son, and it’s just conjecture, then there might be some wiggle room and I may be able to spin this a different way, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I’m guessing they have some solid sources if it’s already out there like this, since everyone knows how much I like to sue for slander.”

Peter snorted.

“So, how about this? You sit tight in here and I’ll go deal with all of this, and as soon as I know more about the plan, I’ll let you know, ok?”

“Ok.” Peter agreed softly.

Tony hummed and drummed his fingers along the chair back as he studied his son. He hated the idea of leaving him alone right now, but he knew he didn’t have any other choice. He had to go deal with all of this, and he didn’t want to bring Peter along and subject him to everything that entailed. That would only make it worse.

It was a no win situation. As soon as he left, his kid was going to be on his computer or his phone googling himself, and he’d start falling down the proverbial rabbit hole. As a media veteran, Tony knew self google was never a good idea, but he could only guess at what was being said and written about his kid. He hadn’t had any time to check yet, so he couldn’t even prepare Peter for it. He definitely wasn’t winning any parenting awards today.

“Listen, I’m going to do something, and you’re not going to like it, but you have to trust me that it’s in your own best interest right now, all right?”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. Yeah, this wasn’t going to go over well.

“FRIDAY be a dear and restrict Peter’s TV, phone, and internet access until further notice.”

“What? No!”

“Just,” Tony said as he held up a hand, “let me deal with this stuff first, and then we’ll deal with the rest of it together. Ok?” He tried for calm even as a storm cloud passed over Peter’s face. At least it was better than the sick, pinched look he’d had ever since all this went down. Silver lining.

“You’re not being fair.” Peter protested.

“I know.” He agreed and Peter didn’t seem to know what to do with that easy admission.

“So I’m just supposed to stay locked in my room alone with nothing to do until you come back?” Peter asked skeptically.

“No. Of course not. You have plenty to do.” He gestured to the partially finished Y-wing Lego set, the stacks of DVDs, and the video game consoles.

“You just said I couldn’t use the TV.” Peter huffed.

Tony sighed. “FRIDAY, Peter can use the TV for watching movies and playing video games, but nothing else, capiche?”

“Yes Boss.”

“There. All good. And you’re not going to be alone. I’ll send you some company.”

Peter screwed up his face like he wasn’t quite sure whether that was a good or a bad thing.

“And I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He said as he stood and ruffled Peter’s hair, smirking as Peter tried in vain to straighten it back into place.

On his way out, Tony paused at the door to turn and look at his kid. Peter had a desolate expression pasted across his face as he stared straight ahead at nothing.

“Hey.” Tony said to get his attention. As soon as Peter made eye contact with him, he said solemnly, “It’s going to be ok.”

“I know.” Peter mumbled and gave him a ghost of a smile, but Tony could see the truth in his eyes. His son didn’t believe him. Tony always knew he was too smart for his own good. Just like his old man.

“I love you.” Tony said with a soft intensity. Maybe he couldn’t keep the world from crashing down around them, but he could love his son. Always. It was one of the easiest things he’d ever done.

“I love you too.” Peter said back and that finally got a real smile out of him. It gave him some hope that maybe this would all turn out ok.

The door closed behind him with a click, and he made his way back out to the living room. Pepper, along with the rest of his SI team, had left and were probably waiting for him in the conference room, but the room was far from empty. Apparently none of the Avengers had wanted to go back to their quarters. The show of concern both irked and warmed him at the same time. Regardless, he didn’t have time to chit chat. Except for the one thing he had to do.

“Hey birdbrain.” He said as he spotted Clint sitting in one of the oversized chairs in the corner of the room. “Do you mind hanging with Peter? I told him I’d send someone in to keep him company.”

“Sure.” Clint agreed easily.

Tony gave him a nod of thanks and made his way toward the elevator.

“Tony.” Steve said from where he and Natasha were standing in the direct path to the elevator, obviously waiting for him.

Tony stopped in front of him and raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for Steve to spit out whatever it was he wanted to say.

“How’s Peter doing?” Steve asked, concern crinkling in the corners of his eyes.

Tony sighed. He had no idea how to answer that question. “He’s…dealing.”

Steve nodded as if he understood everything Tony wasn’t saying.

“Well, if that’s it, I have to go figure out how to deal with this disaster.” Tony said after a few seconds had passed and it didn’t seem like Steve was going to say anything else.

He took a step away but Steve reached out to grab his arm. “Wait. We want to come with you.”

Tony turned and frowned. “You want to come with me where?”

“To the conference room.”

Tony just blinked. “Why?”

“Maybe we can help.”

His face must’ve shown his skepticism because Natasha added, “We care about Peter too.” As if Tony had ever doubted that fact.

“Fine.” He must’ve acquiesced too easily given the looks of surprise on Steve and Natasha’s faces. But he had neither the time nor the energy to argue, and if they wanted to spend their time being tortured in a meeting, then that was their prerogative. “Let’s go.”

Steve and Natasha followed silently as he continued on his way toward the conference room. The truth was, he didn’t even know what kind of shitstorm awaited him, but the look on Pepper’s face when he’d stepped into the penthouse had clued him in to the fact that it was bad, along with the dozen or so PR employees milling about with their cellphones attached to their ears and their faces buried in their laptops. Thinking about it made his heart thrum a rapid staccato in his chest. Usually he didn’t care about his image, or whatever the media said, but this was different. This time it was his kid. He couldn’t help but care.

As he approached the glass walled conference room, he could see everyone waiting for him. He’d never gone into a meeting so wholly unprepared. After he’d gotten the news, he’d gone straight to his kid. He hadn’t taken the time to check any media outlets to see what was being said, so besides what he’d already been told, he honestly had no clue what he was dealing with yet. He gripped the handle of the conference room door and took a bolstering breath. It was time to go find out.

#unforeseen dangers #ch 9

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moonflower-31 · 4 years

Text

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 24

Warnings: Brief mention of self harm, Panic attacks, etc.

Also (F/C/T) is: Your favorite cookie type

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @serendipity-imagines, @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @thatsonezesty13,

~~~~~~~~~~~

Never to suffer would never to have been blessed. - Edgar Allan Poe

You bite your lip anxiously as you slowly pull away from Spencer’s now much more soaked cardigan. You sigh and attempt to wipe the spot down with your hand. "I'm sorry…" you said in a small voice. Spencer gently took your hands in his own and made you look into his eyes.

"How can you be sorry for something you couldn't control? It's alright by me, (Y/N). Do you need someone to go in with you?" Spencer asked, his hands wanting desperately to hold you and to keep you ever so close to his chest so that you never had to fear for your safety. Because in his arms he could protect you. He could be the safe haven you needed to get back on your feet. And he would happily do so.

You sniffled and pushed a strand on your hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. You shook your head, gulping nervously before attempting to speak again.

"N-no… Hotch wanted me to meet him in his office. I-I should be okay. Hotch… he wouldn't hurt me." You assure, although your voice betrayed your real feelings. You were nervous you were going to lose your probationary agent status and be downgraded to a desk-work agent. You were so close to the team now. You had already been working on fine-tuning your resume to turn in when Peter attacked you.

Spencer sighed and squeezed your hand. "Okay. But just know I'll be here when you come out. I only have a few more reports to do. And each of them only require about a normal printer paper's worth of documentation to complete. Suffice to say you don't need to worry."

You gave Spencer the best smile you could muster, which ended up only being a weak small one, before you turned your attention towards the small set of stairs. You then walked up to Hotch's office, the pounding of your heart and the rushing blood roaring in your ears.

The carpet muffled the slight clop of your heels, quieting the pounding in your head just a smidge. You could see him in his office. He was business as usual, as always. You could feel your lungs collapse and refill as you took in each breath. You almost felt trapped inside your body. All around you you could only see blurry pictures of what was real. And you then began to see clearly what wasn't. Piercing, evil green eyes began to appear on the walls, all staring at you.

Whatever you had carried in your hands was now on the floor, your chest feeling ever so heavy. One by one your senses and functions were turning themselves off. It started with your hearing, and then your sight began to darken around the edges of your vision. By then you could see the partial outline of Spencer’s figure, trying to say something. But you couldn't hear him. The only thing you could hear was the pounding and the roaring of blood and your heart in your ears. It was deafening.

Then you lost your ability to breathe, clutching at your chest as you coughed and wheezed, trying to suck in as much air as you could as your throat closed and swelled. Spencer gripped your arms, and it seemed like Hotch soon after joined him in trying to help you. Then you lost the ability to stand. And you fell face first into Spencer’s arms where he thankfully caught you. But it wasn't long after this that you began to lose consciousness from the lack of air in your lungs and the increasing pounding of your heart.

The last thing you knew you would remember was the semi clearing view of Spencer’s eyes looking into yours, trying to urge you to stay awake.

○●♡●○

You reawaken to Spencer's apartment ceiling, confused as to how you had gotten there. More concerned as to who was there with you. You attempt to move, to make someone aware that you were awake.

"Hey, so Sleeping Beauty actually awakens."

You groan at the sudden realization of who was in the room with you. You sit up slowly, turning your head to see a familiar pair of whiskey colored eyes staring at you from the corner of the room.

"G...Gabriel?"

Gabriel nods and chuckles to himself, advancing closer to you and taking a seat next to you. "Yep. What, were you expecting a stringbean? Prince charming? Cause he's in the other room with Chocolate Thunder."

You widen your eyes for a moment and start to laugh softly from knowing Gabriel knew Garcia's nickname for Morgan. "You know about that?"

Gabriel gives you a raised eyebrow. "What don't I know about you and your new work friends at this point?"

You nod a few times. Fair enough.

"What I also know… is that you are so undeniably in love with that pipe cleaner with eyes in there it ain't funny. And he likes ya back. You know how many times I had to bribe him with my copy of the Hebrew version of the bible to leave you alone in here? He refused to let you go. Like seriously. Confess already. It's kinda sickening." Gabriel teases, nudging your shoulder. You look down at the floor, sniffling and laughing partly.

Gabriel's teasing facade fell and he narrowed his eyebrows. "Kid… seriously. Are you okay? You passed out at work. That's not normal. Not even for me. And that's saying something." Gabriel's eyes widen and he holds up two hands as if saying he was innocent.

You snicker gently, crossing your arms comfortably. "I… I guess? My uh… my Mom stopped by to beat me to a pulp today."

Gabriel's face immediately shifted and redness increased in his face. "Are you serious? That bitch tried something? After what she did to you?! Selling you to fucking Peter?!" Gabriel hissed, his hands tightening at his sides. You flinch at his louder tone, sniffling and wiping your quickly tearing up eyes.

"She's a narcissist, Gabe. S-she only cares about herself and th-the business. T-that she already got money for selling me to him. And it's non-refundable apparently." The dark cloud that had been around your head before your attack quickly was returning. And here you thought you'd finally be able to see sunlight.

Gabriel sighed, his hand flexing against his jeans. "(Y/N)... I'm sorry kid. You don't deserve her. Deserve anything that's happened to you. Once we get her in jail alongside Pe-"

You flinch at the beginning mention of Peter’s name, causing Gabriel to pause his statement and rephrase it. Gabriel sighed and began to speak again. "Once we get them both in jail, you'll be able to focus on yourself. Getting better. I'll even pay for your therapy if you want. It comes with candy I hear." Gabriel smirked, his tone growing playful to try and get a smile out of you.

You do end up smiling gently, nodding wordlessly to your oldest friend. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him, letting you hug his torso. "Come 'ere. Let's just calm down for now, eh? Don't want you fainting on me again." Gabriel encouraged, gaining a brief chuckle from you.

You snuggle closer, glad Gabriel understood you enough to know this was what you needed. You rest your head against his chest and listen to his heart's strong pumping.

A few moments of resting later, a pair of footsteps exit the kitchen and make their way towards the living room. You feel a slight twinge of fear build up in your chest, but you quickly feel it exit when you hear his voice enter the room as well.

"How is she?" Spencer asks Gabriel, probably assuming you were still asleep or adjusted while they were in the kitchen.

"Fine, considering what she's been through. Thanks for calling me though, Spencer. I've been tryna get clearance to see her for a few weeks and only just got it. The life of a field agent." Gabriel expressed, getting what you guessed to be a nod and a grunt from Morgan.

"It ain't all fun and games, I can tell you that." He answers, a sigh soon after leaving his lips. You open your eyes slowly and see Morgan clutching his lower thigh where he'd been shot by Peter. You resist your urge to bite your lip, wanting to enjoy a few minutes of just listening before having to interact.

"What happened? Seriously? She didn't go into detail, and I respect that. But how did she end up fainting on her way to the boss's office?" Gabriel questioned, his hand rubbing up and down your arm. He knew you were still awake. It was like he already knew what was going through your head.

"Her…" Spencer sighed, biting his nails for a moment as his eyes traveled over towards your supposedly sleeping form on his couch. "Her mother came in and attacked her. She stood up for herself but in the process I think she showed Hotch how unready she was for work. That's what he said anyway. That Derek and I should stay with her for a few weeks. We'll alternate cases once he goes back so she has someone at home." Spencer began to explain. You were glad you were awake now. Otherwise you doubted you would get as clear and concise of an explanation of what was going to happen if they knew you were awake.

Gabriel gritted his teeth and looked off to the side in annoyance. "Yeah. I know about that. Which pisses me off honestly. How did she even get in? Don't you gotta have an ID to get in? An appointment or something?" He asks, his voice harsher than you'd ever usually heard it.

"Hey, man we ain't in charge of that. That's the front desk. But yeah. Usually you gotta have an ID and or you gotta have an appointment or a meeting with an agent. She probably said she had a meeting with (Y/N) and they let her in." Derek explained, holding his hands up cautiously.

Gabriel let out a sigh and groaned. "Fine fine. But still. It shouldn't be that easy. She should be as safe at that office as she is at home."

Spencer nodded, his eyes closing slowly and staying closed as he sighed heavily. Something was weighing on him. You knew it. Was it you? It wasn't his fault. But then again, did he know that?

You finally gained enough strength to finally face the two of your closest friends and began to open your eyes again, gently moving yourself away from Gabriel's chest.

Spencer was the first to notice, his face immediately lighting up when he saw your open eyes. "(Y/N/N)..." he breathed, a smile pulling onto his face. Gabriel stifled a chuckle, rubbing your arm before giving you a reassuring look. You nodded to him, and he then stood up. He nudged at Morgan’s shoulder and winked at him.

"Let's give 'em a few minutes, Brown Sugar. See? I can do nicknames too." He teases before he gestures for Morgan to follow him into the other room. Morgan laughed and winked back at him, following him into the kitchen.

You look up at Spencer, gesturing to the seat beside you. He takes the spot as soon as you assure him that he was welcome. He was so cautious, wanting to make you as comfortable as you could be. You couldn't think of anyone else so attentive.

"Spencer-"

"(Y/N)-"

You snicker softly, hearing a laugh echo from Spencer. For the first time in what felt like years you felt the foreign feeling of your heart skipping a beat. His laughter was like a blessing for you. And you were glad to have it.

"You first." Spencer spoke up again after a moment. You sighed and rubbed your neck.

"Spencer… I'm sorry. I… I didn't know I was going to faint or-or have a panic attack-" the increasing need to explain yourself filled up your chest. You didn't look him in the eyes, ashamed of not having been able to control how you acted.

But then he gently took your hands in his. Well, your wrists mostly. He was still wary of germs. "(Y/N/N)... Have I been known to lie to you?"

You took a few deep breaths as you blinked at his question. "N-no… no you've always told the truth. That I know of."

Spencer nodded. "Then should you determine that what I said to you when you apologized for wetting my cardigan, a lie?"

You swallow nervously and sigh, shaking your head as you picked at your nails. You felt guilty. But that didn't mean what Spencer was saying didn't help.

Spencer sighed. "You should not have to apologize for things you cannot control. It would be like asking me to apologize for having the IQ I do." Or for loving you, which would be a crime to apologize for. Spencer thought silently.

Spencer’s hand raised up to your shoulder and rested there, pulling you closer to him. You both stayed quiet for a few moments, just listening to the other breathe.

"You were awake when I talked with Gabriel, weren't you?" He asked after a few moments of silence. You bit your lip and exhaled tiredly. Your upper eyelids began to fall, proving your exhaustion. It was an exhaustion you hadn't felt since you were rescued from the clutches of your captor that shouldn't be named.

"Y-yeah… I was just… I wasn't ready to really be awake yet." You explained. "I'm so-"

Spencer shook his head. "Please, don't apologize for taking the time you needed." You didn't finish your statement, just letting yourself rest against him this time.

"Okay…" you whispered, unsure of what else to say. Your tongue felt baren of words, unable to comprehend a combination that would effectively continue the conversation that you didn't second guess yourself on.

"It's okay to have listened, (Y/N). I was just making sure you knew what Hotch said about you going back to work. You and Morgan have some time off that Hotch has given you both. He wants you to take the time to recover. If I'm totally honest, I do too." Spencer expressed, gently rubbing your arm as you laid against his chest.

"But… I don't know what to even do with my time, Spencer. I'd bore myself." You look down at your fingers, groaning at the idea of being alone and unable to distract yourself from your self-destructive thoughts. You were glad you wouldn't be alone. Then maybe you'd be able to stave off of going back to self harm.

"That's why Morgan will be here. For a little while. Then when he's able to go back in the field we'll alternate cases. So that you won't have to be alone, (Y/N)." Spencer assured you. "I'm sure I can help occupy your day with books." "O-or whatever you want to do." Spencer quickly adds, blushing softly.

You smiled softly at his attempt to make you feel better. "Promise you'll read me Edgar Allen Poe and we have a deal." You attempt to tease. Spencer smiles at you and nods, hugging you closer. Seeing you cheering up was the best thing to happen to him in that entire half of the day since lunch break. You were safe in his arms. You were warm, protected, and that was all he could ask for.

"Quoth the raven." Spencer answered, causing you to snicker. You curl up next to him, letting yourself ease breaths in and out. He was warm, and his heartbeat rhythmic. Forget any sort of music playlist. You could fall asleep listening just to his heartbeat and be off to dreamland in a matter of minutes. The warmth alone was comforting. Like a gigantic comforter that wrapped around you securely.

"Spence… I…" you began, feeling an urgency full your chest. Were you really going to tell him? Tell him now how you felt? Would he feel the same? Gabriel could be wrong. Yet again, he was wrong about a lot of things. But were they ever this serious?

Spencer adjusted his position so you could look him in the eyes. "Hm?" He answered, giving you the most adorable look you'd ever seen. Yeah. You were. While you still had this bit of confidence and urgency in your chest. Butterflies burst into your stomach, making you worry for a stutter. You wait a few moments to collect your bearings, before attempting what would be impossible with your normal level of confidence.

"I… I lo-"

"Heya you two! Butterscotch and I just made cookies in here. You want one? They're your favorite, (Y/N)." Gabriel called from the kitchen. You jumped at the sudden additional voice, before sighing mournfully.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks.

You exhale half annoyedly and nod. "Yeah… he just scared me."

Spencer nodded and rubbed your back for a moment. "So… what were you going to say?" He asked, begging and hoping his cheeks weren't as red as they were warm.

You look up into Spencer’s warm hazel eyes, but feel that last trickle of confidence slip away. You sigh and shake your head. "I… I uh… I wanted to ask if you'd want to have a movie marathon tonight. Just… as a distraction."

Spencer blinked a few times before he nodded. "Yeah, totally. As long as Star Trek is in there somewhere."

You giggle softly and chuckle. "Sure, fanboy."

You stand up gently before beginning to head to the kitchen. Curse Gabriel and his want to share. You would already be kissing Spencer’s face off at this very moment if he'd waited a few more minutes before announcing he'd made cookies. But then again, (F/C/T) cookies sounded pretty good too.

Back to the drawing board, with a few extra post-it notes of anxieties and PTSD. You'd get there. Somehow.

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pale-goblin · 3 years

Text

A Little Twisted.

Chapter One: The King

Co written w/ @desertdwellerdanny

It was late, later then Steve wanted to leave work. Working for his father’s business had been the worst mistake of his life. The long hours, business trips, and paperwork killed him. The only thing that added fun to his life was his body count and not in a sex way. Every business trip, he left a crime scene behind; it was an excellent hobby, a fun game.

As Steve unlocked his car that was parked in the darkness of the street, he heard sounds coming from the alleyway—harsh breaths and muffled screams paired with the tell-tell sounds of struggle. There, barely visible in the alley between two abandoned shops, was a tall man dressed in dark denim and golden strands that fell over his shoulders in beautiful curls. He was pretty, despite, or maybe because of, the deep scowl etched into his features. The closer Steve looked, it seemed there was another person there, pushed up against the man and the dirty brick of the wall.

The curiosity got the better of him, and rather than sidle back into his car to drive 40 minutes to a dull house with boring people and boring television; he found his feet carrying him closer. Steve was friends with the shadows, staying well within them to edge closer to the struggle. It was when he had just made it to the opening of the alley that he heard the all-too-familiar crunch of bone and a strangled scream for help that sounded more gurgle than yell. The man was standing, staring down at the body and the bloodied mess he’d made of the wall and his hands. Shining, wet blood covered the front of him, splatters adorning the smooth skin of his face.

It was gorgeous. He was gorgeous.

Steve watched the rage boiling in the man’s face turn sour, listening to him swear under his breath. His blood-covered hands reaching for his blonde curls to smooth it out of his face. Steve smiled in the alley’s dim light. Seeing the reaction of a man’s first kill was titillating to witness.

Steve’s first kill was cleaner, more planned, and he was 12. He had many years to fine-tune his skills and make sure he was hidden from people’s noses, Of course, unless he was too excited like now. Steve hadn’t noticed the can at his feet which he kicked into the dead body when he shifted his weight.

The man got spooked, and in fear of losing this beautiful man, he put his hands up, showing himself.

“Wait, Wait, don’t run.”

The man’s hands were shaking, slight tremors running up and down his spine as he took Steve in. Those sharp, light eyes dragged over his suit-clad figure, and if Steve had been the type of man to blush, his cheeks would be dusted pink with the intense attention the man gave him.

“Who- I didn’t. He was,” his voice cracked, wide, terrified eyes looking down at the bloodied mess the victim’s face was, “What did I do?”

“Looks like you killed him,” Steve said calmly, eyeing the man’s messy job. “Poorly, I might add,” Steve kneeled, being careful not to get blood on himself. “Good spot though, dark alley, broken cameras.” Steve eyed the area, breaking it down for himself to see how easy this would be to cover up.

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, his body screamed defensive, waiting for Steve to shout or call the cops or something. But he didn’t.

“Who are you?” He spat, top lip pulling up into a snarl. He looked like a cornered animal, faced with a variable that had the ability to ruin him. Hell, he’d murdered someone in a blind rage—he’d already been ruined if it wasn’t for Steve, and isn’t that a nice little bit of luck.

Steve smiled when he locked gazes with the fear-filled blue of the man’s eyes. “Seems like I’m your guardian angel.” Steve winked—the excitement building in his chest was impressive; honestly, he was kind of turned on by all of this. “Wait here; I have a kit in my car. I promise I’m here to help you.”

The man stood flabbergasted, the blood coating the front of his shirt and up and down his arms starting to chill with the cold wind. Steve turned and made his way back to his car, nonchalant and even a slight spring in his step, the blond stranger left in the disturbing quiet of the alley. The silence was deafening, and it roared in the man’s ears.

Steve returned moments later, holding a large black case, wearing a rudder-looking apron and gloves. He had a smile on his face that seemed not to fade. "Can I ask you some questions? About this friend of yours, about tonight?" Steve placed the case on the ground, wondering if this was weird for him, this well-dressed stranger who happens to be a psychopathic murderer. "What's your name?”

The man’s mouth dropped open a bit, taking Steve even before giving a small, unbelieving chuckle and mumbling what the fuck under his breath. “You’re a nutcase, aren’t you?” He gave Steve a cautious side-eye before facing him head-on, meeting his gaze, “You can call me Neil. And that,” he said, pointing at the body, “is not my friend. But ask away if you gotta.”

Steve completely ignored Neil's stab at him for being 'crazy' Steve wasn't crazy—far from it.

"Did you have sex with him?" Steve mumbled as he pulled out a plastic sheet from his case and laid it on the ground.

Billy licked his lips nervously, hands tightening into fists at his side. “No! N-no,” he hesitated, stomach rolling uncomfortably at recalling what had made him do… this… in the first place, “He was trying to— he put something in my drink. But it must’ve been weak or some shit because I could still move. Kinda. I came-to here and kinda, just,” his nostrils flared with fury, eyes even beginning to blur with tears just remembering. He didn’t want to remember. “I didn’t give him the chance to.”

Steve snorted at himself as he dragged the body onto the sheet. Not at Neil's misfortune but the fact that he helped throw the defense case out the window if he got caught. "Then good riddance to this ass hole--" Steve went through the victim’s pants, pulling out a wallet but no car keys. Sad, he couldn't make it look like a car crash. "-- Mr. Bates." Steve read the ID in the wallet, pressing his lips together with a chuckle, "not anymore."

“Bates? That’s his name?” Neil gave an unbelieving laugh, giggles pouring out of him, quickly turning into hysterics, “Oh god. I’m sorry, it’s just. Like that one movie? American Psycho? Bates?” He covered his mouth with a trembling hand to quiet the chuckles forcing their way out of him, “Guess it’s not him that’s the killer this time, though.”

Steve loved hearing the laughter pouring out of Neil's mouth. It was sweet and gave Steve goosebumps just listening to it echo off the walls. He kind of forgot to give his name. He was still tied up in the blood and the blue of this man's eyes. "I'm Ste--no- uh Steve" Steve stumbled the words out of his mouth, giving Neil his real name with so much trust. His beautiful face was throwing Steve off his game.

Neil squinted at him, chuckles finally calming down a bit as he watched Steve work. “Steve,” he said slowly as if testing how the name tasted on his tongue. He must’ve approved because he nodded once before leaning back against the wall opposite to where he’d bashed the man’s head in and slid to the ground. He stretched his legs out, his foot just barely touching the body’s foot, and gave a little kick before letting his head thump back against the brick. “Well, what the fuck are we gonna do, Steve.”

"Well, I'm taking this man home with me" Steve rolled the guy in the plastic sheet just not to make a mess of his car. "Since this was not planned, I will have to figure out how to get rid of the body, but we will clean up the blood and…" Steve's eyes flicked over Neil's body as he sat on the ground, which made Steve let out a disappointed sigh "...and we will get you cleaned up at my house."

“You’re literally helping hide a murder right now,” Neil raised an eyebrow at him, weariness pulling his features down and narrowing his eyes, “Why, pray tell, the fuck should I trust you enough to get into your car?”

Neil was on edge, hackles raised and expecting the worst from Steve. He’d narrowly avoided being attacked already tonight and instead managed to become a murderer in that short amount of time.

“For one, you don’t have to trust me, and I don’t expect you too” Steve pulled a spray bottle out of the case. “But I’m the only chance you have right now” Steve kind of felt like he was

forcing Neil to come with him, but he wasn’t. If Steve wanted to have his way, Neil would have been knocked out and hogtied in the back of his car. Steve started cleaning the blood off the walls taking his time even though no one probably came down here much unless they were also criminals.

Neil let his head thump back against the wall again, closing his eyes. His stomach was cramping with anxiety, and he still felt sick from earlier—the panic and disgust of being so vulnerable settled like lead in his chest.

“Maybe,” he peeked one eye open, lazily watching Steve scrub and spray at the chunky red mess on the wall, “Once I know for sure you’re not gonna fuck me over.” Neil still felt the fear clawing its way up from his chest, and yet in that mess of emotions, not one of them was guilt over what he had done. It had felt...right to kill him. Good, even.

Steve enjoyed the clean-up more than the kill itself; it added some kind of normal part to it for him. Steve never felt guilt but knew he wasn’t normal, but he didn’t care if he was. Steve looked back at the guy exhausted against the wall of the alley. “The anxiety will pass,” Steve mumbled, giving him a shy smile. “Then you will taste true freedom.”

Neil snorted, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “You sound like you’ve done this before, pretty boy. Run into a lot of murders, do you?”

Steve laughed. “I don’t run into a lot. It’s not like we have a club or anything,” Steve cleaned up the last bit on the wall before moving to where the body has been sitting. “But, I have done this before, 42 times counting helping you; I’ve even got a fancy killer name now.”

Neil’s eyebrows shot up, face sobering, “Really now?” He looked nervous. Funny almost, like there’s a difference between killing 42 or 1 with his bare hands. “And what would that be? How so many?”

Steve licked his lips as he looked up at Neil. “They call me the King; I haven’t been caught because I don’t kill in the same city twice in the same year. They only connected the dots a few months ago.”

Neil’s eyes grew big, mouth propping open as he took in the killer who had just started to take over just about every news story as of late. “Holy fuck. Bullshit.” he sat up against the wall, pushing up off of it to stride over to Steve as if getting a better look at the man would help him make the connection to a faceless serial killer. “And you’re helping me? Now?” his face screwed up in confusion, taking yet another step towards Steve, “Why?” he said quietly, peering into his eyes as if trying to find the answers to all the questions clogging his brain there.

Steve shrugged. “My life is boring, and you’re just the excitement I needed today.” Steve stood up and finally finished the rest of the work. He watched Neil check him out, trying to figure out what was not very hard if you knew how to look. “Do I scare you?”

Neil didn’t answer right away, keeping his intense eye contact and considering the question with a low hum. “No. You don’t.” He settled on, stating it firmly and with conviction. Steve was terrifying, but the shine in Neil’s eye confirms that he would rather die than let him know that.

Steve made a face when he looked interested more than he was before in Neil. "Well, come on then" Steve put his stuff away, closing the case up and handing it to Neil with a wink, "unless you want to get caught, that is" Steve smiled faded at the possibility that Neil could just say no and run, but Steve would make sure his actions had consequences.

Fortunately, it seemed Neil had better common sense than that and hesitantly stepped forward to take the case. “You look like you know what you’re doing. I’d rather take your lead than to spend the next 30 years in prison.” Neil replied in perfect deadpan. He wasn’t a fool—he knew what happens to boys like him if he was targeted before being in a building full of men with his being as pretty as he was… well, that’s just asking for trouble, isn’t it?

Steve smiled. "Smart boy." Honestly, Steve would have so much fun with this guy; maybe they would even kill together. Hmm, the idea of that, the excitement of it.

Steve picked up the body, throwing it over his shoulders like it was nothing to him--it was unfortunate he would have to get rid of his suit because of this. Hunting in clothes you wear is never a good idea with fibers getting everywhere.

"My car's not far."

Neil slowed, eying how easily Steve had manhandled a grown man’s dead weight. He wasn’t sure if that added to the intimidation or stirred something in him. Neil gave his head a slight shake before gripping the case in his hands tighter and following Steve back out to his car.

It was a fancy thing, sleek black and probably more expensive than Neil had ever owned or even touched.

Steve opened the trunk of the car and placed the body down into it. Honestly, all of this tonight made him yearn for another hunt, but he wasn't going on another trip for a few weeks.

Steve let out a sigh as he grabbed the case from Neil and put it in with the body, and removed the extra attire he was wearing.

"Get in the back seat. I already put a sheet down for you" Steve opened the back door like a gentleman. Steve wondered what Neil was feeling, how much excitement was kicking in? Did he feel good? Steve always enjoyed the thrill of it all, but he wanted to know how other people thought.

Neil pulled a face at his commanding tone, but climbed in anyway, face passive save for his ears’ tips that flushed a pretty red. “M, not a damn dog, yknow,” he mumbled out, although he understood the reasoning given the front of his shirt was splattered in blood.

He shuffled in, careful not to touch anything that wasn't the plastic sheet lining the inside of the car. “What’re you going to do with him?” he asked quietly, the meekest Steve’s seen him all night.

Steve got out into the car’s front seat and fixed his mirror to see Neil in the back seat, getting to see him in a slightly better light before the overhead light in the car went out as he turned the car on. “Well, dump his body somewhere in a few days,” Steve smiled, thinking about how he could take credit for it. “Maybe cut something into his skin, take the top of his skull, and put it on my wall.”

It’s not something that’s been disclosed by the cops yet, at least not officially. Reporters have spread the news like cockroaches in hidden corners, whispering about how the serial killer King takes the crown of the victims’ scalps. It’s terrifying, really. Neil narrows his eyes a smidge.

“Why do you do it?”

Steve had never thought about why he did what he did; he only started doing it three victims into this game of his. Sometimes he does it when the people are still alive, watching the fear dripping from their eyes until the shock sets in.

“They don’t deserve a crown.”

Neil hummed, “Who deserves a crown, then?”

Steve pulled out of the parking spot, locking eyes with Neil in the mirror. “I do.”

Neil held his gaze—feeling trapped by Steve’s shockingly clear brown eyes, and yet he felt no struggle or want to break out of it.

Neil is prey. Interesting, pretty, entertaining prey.

And Steve was going to eat him alive just to force him to submit to him. To admit how scared he is of The King.

Co written w/ @desertdwellerdanny

#stranger things #tw murder #Tw blood #fic writing #fic ideas #fic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #murderer steve #billy x steve #harringrove #sorry everyone

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