#must always ramble and list everyone's names and family connections and and | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beskarhearts · 3 years

Text

Silence (Din Djarin x reader)

Connection series pt. 1

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, mention of family members passing away, nightmares

Word count: A little over 3.2K

Summary: The Mandalorian is an extremely quiet man, not saying much of anything or making any noise, which is driving his new partner crazy.

Notes: I love these two together so I am going to write about them multiple times and am making it into a series. All the parts for this will be on my masterlist!

Next Part

________________________________________________

The silence was killing you.

During the day, it wasn’t as bad. The child usually gurgled and rambled away, speaking words only he could understand. The sounds of his giggles filled the air and lighted the mood. You would talk to the kid constantly, having him as a new loyal companion who would listen to you with wide eyes, responding in his own little ways.

But eventually the hours would die out and the kid would finally go to sleep for the night. And that is when the complete silence would kick in. Besides the soft snores of the child and the endless whir of the Razor Crest traveling through hyperspace, there would be absolutely no noise. No speaking, humming, clearing of the throat, nada.

You were used to being alone. You didn’t really have a lot of friends or companions before you joined the Mandalorian and his child, but it wasn’t quiet like this. When you were alone, you would hum or silently sing. You’d open your window and listen to the world around you. But, the Razor Crest was void of all of that, as well as the Mandalorian.

You honestly didn’t how it was possible. It had only been a matter of a few weeks now, but you had noticed how the Mandalorian could go hours without making even the quietest of noises. No cough, no heavy breathing, no words. He would just sit in the cockpit of his ship and stare into the hyperspace, seeming to study it for hours at end with no interruptions. The only time he would make noise is when he was fixing a weapon or the ship, or the eventual noises that accompanied him when he eventually shuffled his way into bed.

It drove you nuts. The silence was eerie and gave you too much time to think, to dwell on things you shouldn’t. But it wasn’t like you could just walk up to Mando and start a conversation with him. You knew little to nothing about the man in beskar, but you knew that he enjoyed his silence and enjoyed being left alone. When you first boarded the ship and joined him and his child, you tried to talk to him. You would crack jokes and sarcastically tease him like you did with everyone. But, he didn’t seem to be amused by that or succumb to your humor. He wouldn’t laugh and he barely even responded. He would just stare at you with his helmet until he eventually turned away to do something else.

You thought maybe he was just shy, not used to the company of a person. Maybe he just needed time to warm up to you. So, you decided you would let him speak first. You’d keep quiet like he wanted until he was comfortable enough to spark a conversation with you. When you came up with this plan, you relied on the fact that eventually he must speak to you. I mean you were stuck together and what was he going to do - never say anything ever? At the time, it seemed like an atrocious thought but now you had deemed it was very much possible you would spend your future days in complete silence when you were with the Mandalorian. Your plan to wait for Mando to speak now seemed ridiculous. Were you really not going to say anything and live in silence until the giant, glorified tin can decided to speak? I mean kriff, that day may never even come.

You sat on the floor of the belly of the Razor Crest, listening to the soft little breathes of the child as he lay sleeping in his hammock that the Mandalorian had resurrected for him. The Mandalorian was sat in the cockpit as always, out of sight, and you were alone. You had tried to go to sleep, hoping that would ease the uncomfortableness of the silence but it was hard for you to sleep nowadays. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw images of your parents and grandmother and those were memories too painful to relive for you. Nightmares plagued your nights so instead you would sit there awake for many hours, eventually laying down but spending most of your time staring at the ceiling above you.

Your mind drifted eventually, thinking of the child and how much you cared for him. You would never dare describe yourself as his mother, more like a glorified nanny at this point, but you felt a connection with the little one. He was warm and full of light and so much power. He seemed like a simple little kid but he was so much more complex.

You sat in the same spot thinking and didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you heard the thud of the Mandalorians boots on the floor. You looked up at the man, watching as he let go of the ladder that took him to and from the cockpit. You expected him to walk to his cot and close the hatch to it as he always did but instead his modulated voice let out a single sentence: “What was that?”

It took you a minute to process the fact that he had spoken to you and you felt yourself freeze up. You had been waiting for the man to finally say something, anything to you. Anything that would interrupt the silence. But now that it was happening, it felt so uncomfortable. You guess eventually you had gotten used to the silence and Mando trying to speak to you felt so odd, for him and yourself.

“What are you talking about?” You looked over at the child, but he was still knocked out cold. No noise came from him. Nothing knocked over or fell over. You heard nothing, as always.

“You were humming.”

Well, shit. You hadn’t even realized you were doing so. You probably annoyed him with it. You must have slipped into it, humming away to a tune you thought had been long forgotten but was apparently still very prevalent in your mind. You stood to your feet, looking at the Mandalorian and letting out a small “I’m sorry.”

Then you froze. Why the kriff were you apologizing? This man has made you sit in complete and utter silence for weeks and you finally hum a little because you are a damn human. And then he has the audacity to ask you what you were doing. “Actually, no. I am not sorry.” You clarified, feeling how annoyed you were with all the silence come out.

And what a surprise, the Mandalorian responded with complete silence, the only indication he was listening being a small tilt of his helmet.

“Sir, have you ever considered the possibility that you are a droid or something?” You sarcastically let out, perching a hand on your hip as you stared back.

“What?” A small scoff followed, sound distorted through his mask but you picked it up. The Mandalorian copied your movements, perching his own hand on his hip and cocking it out to the side.

“Well, I’ve just never met a human being who could sit in absolute silence and never say a word for so long. You must be a droid.” You let out a laugh. “Actually, I have met droids who have talked way more than you. I swear you vocabulary only consists of grunts, sighs, and saying ‘This is the way.’ Oh, and tonight we’ve added to your extensive list, a thrilling ‘What was that?’”

You let out a loud sigh as you finished your rambling, staring back at the man before you. And you didn’t think you could believe your ears at the noise that followed.

“Wait...was that a...” You pause, staring at him incredulously, “Did you just laugh or did your helmet malfunction?”

“I am able to laugh.” Mando said shortly and you swore that his voice seemed a little lighter than it ever had before.

“Well, how would I ever know that? Whenever I tell a joke or say something, you just respond with silence. I thought you were incapable of human emotion because, sir, I am kriffing hilarious and you haven’t laughed at my jokes once.”

“I laughed at you tonight.” You wanted to rip your hair out at his matter-of-fact attitude.

“Nooo. You didn’t laugh at my joke. You laughed because your complete silence is driving me loony. The only person I ever talk to anymore is the child and I don’t know if he can even understand me!” You throw your hands in the direction of the child, who still was sleeping peacefully away. “I mean how do you do it? Just say nothing for hours?”

“Mandalorians aren’t very talkative people.”

“So, when you are in a room with people, you just sit there and don’t say a word the whole time? What about friends or other Mandalorians?”

“I don’t talk to people. I’ve always been alone.”

The statement was made very definitively, with no emotion, but it made your annoyance simmer away slightly. You considered that the life of a Mandalorian must be very lonely. Nobody to talk to. You always have to keep your name and face hidden, never able to open up to someone completely and fully. You didn’t know much about Mandalorians but you could sense that connection and feelings weren’t of much importance. It was supposed to a life that consisted of an endless cycle of catching bounties and getting credits.

You knew that the Mandalorian that stood before you was already different, capable of connecting with a creature and caring for him. You saw it in the way he would mumble to the child, hold him against him, or even when you caught him wiggling his finger for the child to grab. The Mandalorian had been adjusting to life with one little child by his side and then you came along. And you would have to guess that a snarky, fully grown female was a bit harder to be comfortable with than the kid was.

“Well, you aren’t anymore. I know it probably kills you but you are stuck with me for a little while. And I’m not saying you have to talk to me all the time but I am here to talk to. And I think if I sit here in complete silence for another hour, I will go crazy.” You give the Mando a small smile, hoping to ease some of the tension in the room and not annoy his with your words. You didn’t want to force him to talk to you, but you also kind of did.

There was silence for a few moments and you were worried you scared off the Mando until he nodded slightly. “Okay.”

You let out a sigh of relief and quietly clapped your hands together, rocking back and forth on your heels. “Okay. Good.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

You raised your eyebrows, shocked that he was still engaging in conversation. “Sure.”

“Where did you hear that song you were humming?” Your smile dropped a little bit at the question but you tried to cover it quickly, though you could tell Mando could sense the change in your attitude. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s... umm...” You closed your eyes for a second and let out a small breath, feeling your fists clench. “My mom used to sing it to me to get me to sleep. It is just a silly little lullaby.” You looked down at your feet, feeling burned from remembering the memory.

“My mother used to sing that to me as well.” You felt an initial wave of confusion from his words. You had never thought about the fact that the Mandalorian had parents. I mean, you knew he didn’t just come from nothing. But, the idea of the Mandalorian as a child, with a family, seemed so bizarre. You tried to imagine a small child with a mother and father but couldn’t help but to just imagine his helmet on a smaller body. You then wondered how long he had been a Mandalorian as a child and if his parents were Mandalorians as well.

Your mind whirled with questions from the one small sentence he said, but you didn’t want to scare him off. You just let out a small, “Huh. Small universe, I guess.”

“Do your parents know where you are now?”

You wanted to tell Mando to stop asking you questions. You wanted to tell him to leave you alone but you didn’t want to shut him out right when he was finally starting to open up a little. You couldn’t slam the door in his face that you just convinced him to open. But this was the one thing you didn’t want to talk about. The one thing you were hoping was never mentioned. You looked back down at your feet, balling your fists and closing your eyes to build a dam against the tears threatening to fall. But, all you saw was your families face and that caused a bang in your chest that almost felt unbearable.

Mando knew instantly what the twist of pain in your face meant, for he had done it himself for years and years at the mention of family. It had been so long since he lost his family but it still burned and caused an aching feeling in his chest he didn’t know if he would ever be able to get rid of. He saw all of that in your eyes and felt dumb for asking the question. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

You let out a shakey sigh and look back up at the Mandalorian. You imagined he was probably judging you and your weakened state. He probably saw you as fragile and wrecked, something he didn’t want to handle. Damaged goods might as well have been stamped on your forehead. “It’s fine.”

You turned around, wiping at your eyes and starting to trail back to your small bed on the floor when you heard four words that simultaneously made you feel less alone but also broke your heart. “Mine are gone too.”

You turned to look back at the Mandalorian and looked him up and down. To the average person, he’d look like he always did: strong and bold. But, you saw the slight sag of his shoulders and the way his helmet slightly tilted down to the floor. You couldn’t see the pain that was on his face, but you could sense what he was feeling. A layer to the Mandalorian suddenly opened up to you that wasn’t there before. He wasn’t just a set of armor. He was a man, one who had been broken and scarred by the horror of the world. And even though he was covered head to toe in beskar, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel emotions. It just meant he couldn’t show them. Feeling emotions like these were bad enough but having no one to see it or confide in made it feel impossible to deal with somedays.

“I’m so sorry, Mando.”

“It’s okay. It was a really long time ago.” The words were said gruffly, as if they were bricks being built in a wall to push back the emotions he was feeling.

You wanted to hug him or grab his hand. Do something to console him and show him he wasn’t alone, that his pain could be your pain even though your own was so raw. You barely knew this man, having had your first real conversation with him only tonight. But, you felt like you understood him a lot better than before and in a way others might not be able to. And you wanted to hand your strength over to him and you didn’t want to admit it, but you wouldn’t have minded if he had handed his own over to you.

Instead of physically reaching out, you hoped to ease his pain with your words. “I don’t know your parents but I imagine they’d have to be proud of you. The way you care for the kid... you are a good father, Mando. And I know you insist you aren’t the kids father, but he sees you that way. I can tell. And he cares about you and I can tell that you care for him. And you took me in even though you didn’t have to.” You sniffled but brought a small smile to your face, hoping to lighten the mood with a joke. “And I know I am a pain and you’ve let me stay, so you must be a good person.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t tell if your words helped at all but you still smiled in response.

“Well, we went from not talking to me almost crying in front of you, so I would say this is going spectacularly well.” You let out a chuckle, once again rubbing at your eyes. It was bizarre to you how one conversation seemed to open up so much between you two but it also created so many other questions you wanted to ask but they were ones that would have to wait for future conversations you hoped to have. Space and life was hard enough, but with someone to talk to, it made it bearable.

“I also added to my vocabulary.” The words were said in the same monotone way all his words were said, but you felt a real smile brighten up your face. The Mandalorian just made a joke with you. You had simply hoped for him to say anything to you to end the silence and here he was making a joke with you.

“Look at you, making jokes. In no time, you will be talking more than I do.”

“That is unlikely.” An exasperated tone was expressed with the words, along with what could be seen as a sarcastic shake of the head. His humor was dry, but it was something you could decipher and appreciate.

“I don’t know if I should be insulted or not by the way you said that.” You teased and you swear you heard another laugh until a piercing cry interrupted it. You looked over at the child who was throwing his hands in the air and wailing, with big tears filling his eyes that looked up at you and his father. “Oh, you wanted to join in on the pity party too?”

You started making your way to the child when Mando strolled past you and grab him, holding him in his arms and rocking him lightly. “I got him. You go to sleep.”

You smiled warmly at the Mando, wondering if he was doing the same under his helmet. “Okay. Night, Mando.”

You wandered to your bed on the floor and listened as the Mandalorian spoke to the child. He whispered as best as he could with the modulator on and you couldn’t hear much through his low whisper, but it brought peace to you. You liked the way he talked to the kid and how the kid slowly sank back into a peaceful sleep with the comfort of the Mandalorian.

Eventually, the lights turned out and you heard the Mandalorian shuffle into his bed, closing the hatch to it. Instead of dwelling on the past or feeling the pain of your loss, you smiled into the darkness, reflecting on your conversation. Eventually, your eyes drifted close and you fell into sleep.

That was the first night in a long time that you didn’t have a nightmare.

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #din djarin #din djarin x gn!reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you

208 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

Attraction

Kinktober Day 27 ~ kink: rivalry

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: smut, cussing, alcohol mention, college!au

word count: 11,000

a/n: I went.... plus ultra on this... I wrote it all day and I think its amazing. if you’re concerned I even made a literal summary of what it is. by all means you can read most of this even if you don’t like smut!!!

Synopsis: You and Shouto have to work with each other on a psychology project. A psychology project on attraction. The hard thing about this of course is that the two of you hate each other.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Being a doctor was the biggest dream you’ve had since high school. You wanted to take care of people, improve their physical and emotional wellbeing. A doctor was your everyday hero and you wanted to be that.

When university applications began during high school, you submitted an application to the best school in Japan.

Yuuei University.

They were now known for their very low acceptance rate, it's high retention and graduation rates! As well as most graduates becoming the most successful individuals in their field! It was no question that you applied there!

When you got in, your family and you had celebrated for an entire week. It was extraordinary.

Of course, Yuuei was a rigorous university. You spent days and nights studying. Even the weekends weren’t filled with partying due to the nature of your classes. As a Biochemistry Major, you had a lot on your plate. All while taking the needed courses as well as the pre-req classes for medical school. You were always at the top of your game.

So when you were selecting classes for the second semester of your third year, it shocked you to hear that four more units of a psychology class were needed. A class needed to complete the core requirements that the university held.

So you sat in your advisor's office. Your eyes looked at the different courses offered for psychology. All the weird ones were for the second semester. You had first pick still, given that you had so many credits and were now an upperclassman.

“Is there anything in psychology dealing with physiological or neurological issues?” You asked, only seeing Abnormal Psychology which you’d already taken.

Your advisor looked up at you, his tired eyes bloodshot as he skimmed the course list. Aizawa had been your advisor since you were admitted. You came in already declared as a Biochemistry major and had stuck with your decision all this time.

“There’s a 400 level class called Psychology and the Brain,” Aizawa told you, moving his computer screen for you to look at. “It looks like you met the requirements to take the class, and it’s the only class close to what you want.”

You nod your head as you type out the class on your phone.

“It meets twice a week, Tuesday and Thursday for two hours,” Aizawa tells you as you nod. All of your other classes were on other days. It worked within your schedule.

“That sounds good!” You chirp standing up, slinging your backpack over your shoulder you sigh. “You’ll let me know if I have any of the same classes as him?”

“No can do, you two have the same major. You need to get over this childish rivalry.” Aizawa deadpans as your nose wrinkles.

“Fine.” You moan as you wave goodbye, your pace quickening so you wouldn’t miss your one p.m. lecture.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

The Next Semester

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Your eyes widened as you stepped into the Psychology lecture. It was a bigger class then you were expecting. With a total of what you were guessing to be already sixty people in the class, your eyes locked onto your friends.

“Y/l/n!”

“Hi, Mina.” You smile as you walk over towards the empty seat next to your best friend.

“I can’t believe I’m taking this class!” She gushes as you sit down next to her, your fingers pulling out your laptop in preparation for the class. “I wasn’t going to take this class at all, but then you told me you were taking it! I also heard that this is a huge partner-based class, so if we get paired up together it’ll be super fun!”

You nod your head in agreement as the pink-haired girl rambles off. She speaks excitedly about what this new semester was going to bring! About how excited she was for the final year next year! While she was speaking to you, your eyes took a better sweep of the room.

There were a lot of people you recognized! You’d taken classes with many of these individuals before. It was for general biology, general chemistry, and the abnormal psychology class. You smiled and a warm feeling spread in your chest seeing that the one person you didn’t want here wasn’t here.

“Did you hear that Yao-momo is going on a date?” Mina asks you, and your eyes widen.

“What! No?! With who?!” Your jaw is on the floor as Mina catches you up to speed.

During your freshman orientation, you were then placed into a group of twenty kids. Under the name of Group 1-A, the twenty of you became very close friends! To this day, you were all very close! That is, except for you and him.

Well, he wasn't close to anyone except ten people.

Your eyes snapped towards the front of the lecture hall as Professor Midnight walked in. Multiple binders in her hands as she tossed them onto the table by the podium.

Professor Midnight was a blessing to your school, in your opinion at least. She was incredibly intelligent and was very open about her sex life. Midnight was funny and entertaining. It made you wish at times that you were a psychology major just so that you could have more classes with her. Midnight believed that being open with your sexual identity and things alike were important.

“Alright!” Midnight shouted towards the class and everyone quieted down. “The syllabus is on the website, make sure to read it! We have a lot to cover and not enough time so without further adieu, let’s get—“

The doors opened.

Your eyes looked back and your previous excitement died in your chest as you saw who walked in. Tall and serious, with a pair of black joggers and a black t-shirt he sat down near the front of the class.

A short giggle was heard from Mina who nudged you. You had to restrain the frustrated groan at the back of your throat as you rubbed your throbbing temples.

Why?

Why must this always happen?

“Todoroki-san, thank you for being on time for the first lecture.” Midnight jokes with no malice as she turns her attention back to what she was saying.

Your eyes wander toward the two-tone-haired man. Your fingers drum against the desk as you exhale, why was this always happening?

“As you may or may not have heard already, this class is a major project class. There is minimal lecturing, only presentations that will be conducted based on your topic. The final is a paper and formal presentation to be done with your partner.” You felt Mina nudge you with her elbow and you glanced at her and grinned. “That being said, I have already created said partners for you.”

Your smile fell off your face as Midnight connected her laptop to the projector.

“This list was created at random, so no, I do not care if you want to trade or switch partners. You don’t get that option. Please find your name and partner and sit next to each other. We will begin with your first assignment after you’re paired up.”

The list flashed onto the screen, and your eyes scour the list in search of your name.

Please just let it be someone good…

“Oh,” Mina exclaims, her hands on her face as she grins. “I’m with Aoyama!”

“Aoyama’s in the class?!” You ask looking around for your favorite blond.

“I guess so, but I need to go find him now! Good luck!” Mina cries as she grabs her things and looks around.

Your frown increases as your eyes continue down the list.

Y/l/n y/n.

Y/l/n—

Your breathing stops in your throat as you find your name near the bottom.

Todoroki Shouto, Y/l/n y/n.

Oh no.

Your eyes immediately look over towards Todoroki who’s looking back at you. If this was an anime, the class would have dropped in temperature by fifty degrees by two of your’s icy glares. Both of you didn’t move.

Everyone else was already with their partner, introductions being made if they didn’t already know the other.

But you and Todoroki?

Neither one of you moved.

Your gazes still locked, but your bodies were unmoving. Like hell, you were going to move to the front of the room.

In fact, Todoroki was the only person in the front of the room! You had also decided that you were not moving.

With your gaze never breaking away from his, you point towards the empty seat next to you. Todoroki rolls his eyes, his own finger pointing towards the empty chair next to him.

Both of you refusing to move, and your heart was pounding in your frustration. Why was he such a fucking dick?

“Todoroki, Y/l/n…” Midnight called, her arms folded as her eyes swept between the two of you. Giggles erupt within the class. Oh yes, the hatred and rivalry between the two of you were legendary within the school. “One of you needs to move…”

“I was here on time, professor.” You say never once breaking eye contact with the heterochromatic man. Who the hell did he think he was anyway? Thinking he could act this way because his dad was rich and sort of famous?

“As was I.” Todoroki quirks his eyebrow. “Lecture starts at one thirty-five. It was one thirty-four when I walked in; Midnight was early.”

“Doesn’t change the fact I was here first.” Your lips pressing into a scowl as you crossed your arms.

“Too embarrassed to sit in the front, y/l/n?” Todoroki taunts and your rage spikes.

“Too stupid to pay attention near the back, Todoroki?” You retort.

“Children, children!” Midnight cries, her fingers rubbing her temples. “Let’s compromise! Why don’t you sit in the middle of where you both are.”

You want to say no, but you know what a pain in the ass the two of you are. Still, as you gather your things, the two of you refuse to break eye contact. You walk towards the middle and sit on the aisle seat. The class snickering as Todoroki takes the other aisle seat.

There was no winning in this war.

“...okay, well moving on. Let’s pick your first research project which is due next month!” Midnight exclaims her hands grabbing a jar with folded pieces of paper in it. Seeing that you and Todoroki were in front of everyone else, Midnight approaches you two first. “Who’s pulling?”

Both your and Todoroki’s hands shootout. Your eyes glaring at each other as Todoroki retreats his hand given that you’re closer. You smirked in triumph as you place your hand into the bucket and pull out a piece of paper.

You unfold the paper and read-aloud for the class.

“The Mental and Physiological Effects of Attraction…” Your voice trails off, your body seemingly wilting in on itself as you sigh.

Todoroki’s glare slams onto your face and ooh’s and ahh’s resonate through the class. Your hands rub your face as Midnight giggles leaving the two of you to get to the next pair.

Why were you so out of luck when it came to Todoroki?

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“So, you’ll never guess what!” Mina laughs as she drinks from her bottle of soju.

You roll your eyes as you look over your class notes from the week. After what you would call an average first week back to school, you and your friends were gathered together to study and drink. Was it a bad combination? Yes. Was it fun though? Yes.

“Let me guess!” Hagakure squealed. The medical mask she always wore was on the table, her stack of textbooks and notes on the floor. Hagakure wasn’t one too involved in her studies. “Todoroki-kun and y/n are in all the same classes together!”

Your cheeks flared up in embarrassment and anger as the six girls howled in laughter. “Come on!” You moan as you pouted. The many pages of notes you had been writing were currently being transferred onto a google doc for clarity and memory retention.

Mina nods her head excitedly, ignoring your protests as she rambles. “Not only are they in the same classes, but they’re partners for the entire rest of the semester! Plus they’re writing about attraction!” The girls seem to eat this right up as you try to ignore them.

Momo nudges you with her shoulder, her fingers grabbing at your notebook for the psychology class. “You two can’t get enough of each other, can you?” She teases as she flips through your notebook that was already filled with notes.

“You’d think with all those classes they have together they’d at least be lawful with each other.” Uraraka snorts as she takes a rather big chug from her drink.

“He’s a fucking dick that’s why.” You roll your eyes as you crack your sore wrist. You had finished up your notes for your biochemistry class. Now you would be moving on to starting the paper with Todoroki.

There was a good reason for this paper to take an entire month to be due. It was required to be at least fifty pages with fifteen different resources, and to your belief, it was going to be a pain in the ass to complete.

“I think he’s super hot, too bad he won’t ever give in to my seduction!” Mina sighs and you choke on your water, your eyes flying to your best friend.

“E-Excuse me?!”

“Just because you two want to skin each other doesn’t mean I don't want to.” Mina laughs and you groan.

“Why do you even hate Todoroki-san?” Tsuyu asks, her fingers on her chin in a quizzical fashion. “I thought you two were finally over your pride?”

“OH, I can explain this.” Jirou cackles as leans onto the table. Her musical compositions hidden behind her elbows. “Todoroki and y/n are in the same major! They have the same classes all the time somehow, and have received the same test scores on everything! They share the same ranking in school because of this, and y/n is super salty about it.”

“I am not salty!” You complain, your hands covering your face as the girls laugh at you. “I tried to be fucking nice, but he was a total cunt to me, so I stopped.”

“But Todoroki-san isn’t rude.” Momo defends her longtime friend.

“To you maybe.” You sigh, your fingers grasping the bottle of wine that Momo had been hogging. “I just think there’s no reason for me to be nice to someone who isn’t nice to me.”

“Sounds petty to me!” Uraraka laughs as you kick her shin from under the table. But the girls are too lost in their mirth over this situation that your protests fall on deaf ears. “Watch them get into the same medical school, too!”

You freeze as you look up from your new google doc, “What now?”

“He wants to be a doctor, too.” Jirou sighs, her head leaning against her palm. “This is really old news.”

“Wha--”

“Why do you even dislike Todoroki-kun?” Hagakure asks, her head tilted as she takes a long chug from her drink. “I’ve never understood why.”

“Because he’s arrogant, condescending, his voice is entirely way too annoying! He always rolls his eyes when someone says something wrong but never raises his hand to say the right thing! Then he always has this attitude! For the one philosophy class, I took, did you know he always was on the opposing team just to fight against me? I was never fucking wrong, but he never failed to be on the opposite team just because I was on the other team. Plus, that one time I had my hands full of shit and was trying to go to the elevator -- stop laughing -- he let the doors close before I even got there!” You scowl at your amused friends who were in very much enjoying your rant. “So no, Jirou, it is not because of school-related things!”

“Maybe they just need to fuck to get over whatever’s happening between them.” Mina stage whispers to Uraraka who nods in agreement.

“Come on, what is this high school?” You roll your eyes.

They could only grin as they shouted to each other their ideas as to what was happening between you and Todoroki. There was a knock on your door and you sighed as you pushed away from the table and walked over to the door.

“Who is it?” Tsuyu calls before you can even open the door.

“I don’t know!” You respond as you throw open the door and come face to chest with Todoroki.

A scowl solidifies over your face as you look up at the taller man. “What?” You ask, your arms folding as you lean against the door frame.

“You guys are being loud.” He says, his face in a deadpan.

“Quiet hours aren’t until midnight, and it’s only eleven.”

“I know, but we can still come over and complain.”

“We’ll be quiet at midnight.”

“I’m asking you to be quiet now.”

“You’re the only ones complaining, and I’m sure you and the boys aren’t being quiet yourselves.”

“Midoriya has a headache.” Todoroki narrowed his eyes at your stubborn position.

“Midoriya-kun was over ten minutes ago! He was feeling perfect because he was talking to Uraraka-chan.” You remark, your hands coming out to look at your fingernails.

“Who is it, y/l/n-chan!” Momo calls out this time.

“It’s me,” Todoroki responds as you made no effort to respond to your friend.

Your eyes shut in a grimace at the sounds of scraping chairs. You can hear them walking over. The small yet amused chatter ringing in your ears as you glare up at Todoroki who quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Hey, Todoroki-kun!” Mina exclaims and you watch as your friends all greet your bitter rival.

“You guys are being loud, would you mind being quieter?” Todoroki asks someone in the group, but his eyes are concentrated on yours.

“Oh, yeah! Sorry for being loud.” Jirou responds back for the group, but you roll your eyes as Todoroki smiles in thanks. It’s a smile directed at Jirou but his damn eyes are still on you. A stupid charming smile on a stupid fucking asshole.

“Is that it?” You ask, your nose sticking up into the air, your hand on the door ready to slam it into his face.

“Oh, for the paper. I’ve already started.” Todoroki tells you with a condescending smirk. “I’ll share the document with you, but I don’t expect you to write anything productive or of value onto it.”

“I can write a fucking paper in two minutes that is a trillion times better than you in a whole month.” Your sneer as your grip on the door tightens.

“You look like the type to forget to write your own name on papers, oh wait--”

You slam the door in his face, your ears burning with embarrassment as you refuse to turn around. You don’t want to see your friends faces as your head slams against the wood door.

“You… forget to write your name on your papers?” Momo asks you.

“It’s okay, y/n, I forget all the damn time.” Mina cackles as they drag you back to the kitchen. Despite your best attempts, the girls remained relatively quiet for the rest of the night.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Two Weeks Until the Paper is Due

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You walked into the library. Your fingers were holding onto your cup of tea. Your arms filled with books for your research paper, and your backpack was open. You ignored the looks of pity that followed you as you climbed the staircase of the library.

How was it only two weeks into the semester and you were looking like it was finals week? This was the fucking worst.

On top of your disheveled state, you were late for your meeting with Todoroki. On one hand, you hated being late. You were a punctual student and always arrived before necessary! So there was a part of you that felt bad even if it was Todoroki. But on the other hand, fuck him.

You giggled at that thought as you moved towards the study rooms on the back walls. Your eyes peered into each room. Looking for what seemed like the genetic phenomenon boy himself. You found him in the room furthest away sitting in there with Bakugou who was packing up his own things. Without knocking you walked in, the door slamming against the wall as you did so.

“Fucking hell, y/n/n!” Bakugou hissed as you walked in. “Learn how to open a fucking door correctly!”

Placing the cup of tea onto the table you smiled at the ash-blond who was zipping up his backpack. “Sorry, my hands were full and I don’t know my own strength.” You tease as the blond man pinches your cheeks playfully. “Ow, don’t be an asshole!”

“Respect the laws of the school first.”

“Don’t become Iida!” You laugh as Bakugou pulls you into a one-armed hug. Oh, how the three years at Yuuei had changed this man.

“Hah? Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou rolls his eyes as he pulls his backpack on. “Alright, I’ll be going, see you guys.” His hand waves as he walks out of the room leaving you and Todoroki in the awkward silence of the room.

You move in silence. Pulling out your notebook, organizing the textbooks you had, and grabbing your laptop.

Todoroki is sitting by the wall, and in a room designed to hold at most ten people, you sat on the chair furthest from him. You pull out the rolling chair and sink in. Your eyes falling on Todoroki finally who was looking less than amused.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“I don’t want to waste my memory data on you.”

“Too bad, you’d finally have something of value on your phone.”

Todoroki rolls his eyes as he leans backward. “You were late though.”

“Oh get your panties out of a twist,” You mumble as you open the shared document between the two of you. “I lost track of time.”

“You said you were on your way thirty minutes ago. You’re five minutes away.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you stare at him, “I’m tired, Todoroki. I went to go get some damn tea and they messed up my order! But since it was the coffee rush hour they couldn’t make my tea right away as they typically do.”

Todoroki glares at you but breaks away from it as you both turn to the paper.

It’s silent outside of your fingers hitting the keyboard. The paper was being written at the very least.

Well, okay, it wasn’t really.

The two of you had fought at three in the morning about how ugly the paper was being written. Yes, your roommates were sick of the two of you when the argument was being fought. The same night he had told you and your roommates to shut up, you went over thirty minutes later to complain about how he was writing the paper. Under the combined powers of Momo, Iida, and Midoriya the two of you agreed to write the paper separately. Later you would join whatever flowed better between the two of your pieces. The prompt was the same after all, and you were both using the same resources.

“I’m playing music.” You announce, putting your Spotify playlist on.

You knew what music Todoroki hated. It took getting your best friends drunk, but you had managed to get a shitload of information on Todoroki. Details surrounding what he liked, but more importantly, what he hated.

You concentrated on the paper in front of you, but the curling grin on your face was unstoppable as you caught him freezing. His eyes snapping over to your hunched figure as I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys played through your speakers.

“I don’t like this song,” Todoroki says, his tone smooth. His hands pressing into the table in what could be an intimidating position.

“Hm, I don’t remember saying I was playing this song for you…” You murmur. You straighten up as you stare at him, your mouth dropping as you shake your head. “Don’t tell me you’re not a fan of pop music? This genre has the greatest artists in the world! Like when people say they like rap or lo-fi they’re insane for ever believing that!”

Todoroki stares at you, his expression unamused as he turns back towards his computer.

Oh yeah, you were both going to murder each other well before this paper was due.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

One Week Before the Paper is Due

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

You sat on Todoroki’s bedroom floor.

Your hands shifting through the mountain of books the two of you were in possession of for the paper. The assignment itself was not hard at all. In fact, had you been with a less infuriating partner, you were positive it would have finished already. But for some reason, whenever Todoroki and you made one step forward, you shot back twenty steps.

Today you were working on the assignment in his room for a few varying reasons.

One is that for some reason all the study rooms were being used and the two of you didn’t have time to wait around. Second, being that Uraraka had requested to have the dorm room for four hours. Given that you have all requested to have the place to yourself before, everyone agreed. The third and final reason being that Todoroki’s kitchen and dining areas were now occupied by his roommates.

When the two of you trudged in together, his roommates nearly lost their shit. Kirishima and Iida were the most expressive, and Bakugou had quirked an amused eyebrow. You were a bit confused as to why they all seemed so excited by your arrival with Todoroki of all people. Most people were not so amused when the two of you entered the same room.

“We’re here to write the paper.” Todoroki inputted right away, walking to his room as soon as he could. You rolled your eyes as you went around and said hi to his own roommates-- your friends.

You, uncaring of what Todoroki thought of you, stayed out there and talked with your friends. Todoroki and you were both thirty-seven pages into your separate and yet to be fused paper. Given that you had a whole outline for the next at least thirteen pages, you weren’t in too much of a hurry to run over to his room.

“Y/l/n, really?” Todoroki snaps as you were talking to Kirishima about if he would help you dye your hair one day. You look over at Todoroki who’s changed into sweats and a white t-shirt.

Stupid fucking genetic phenomenon you internally cursed as you smiled at the other boys.

“I guess I gotta go, don’t forget about me.” You depart with a sad smile, Todoroki glaring at you as you pass him in the hallway.

Now, you sat on his floor as he took his bed. Your fingers were typing away as you hummed to the playing music. It was Todoroki’s turn to play the designated music, and you had to admit lo-fi music was extremely catchy.

Your feet tap along with the music as you think of ways to rearrange a sentence you had written.

“What did you get on Aizawa’s test?” Todoroki asked you, ripping your thoughts away from your writing. Your eyes fluttered as you looked at him.

“The test grades are out already?” You asked as you pull out your phone to look at your grades app.

“Just posted,” Todoroki grumbles.

You nod as you look at your result. A swell of pride shoots through you as you nod, “What did you get?” You ask a confident smirk on your face.

“Ninety-seven percent.”

“Fucking hell.” You growl tossing your phone away from you. “Same here…”

Your eyes glue onto your laptop again, and you miss the amused smirk on Todoroki’s face as you continue writing.

“Are you almost done yet?” Todoroki asks you, his eyebrow quirked.

You glance up, your eyes rolling as you scoff. “I’m on page forty-three, what are you on? Twenty?”

“I have fifty pages done.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

Your fingers trace your mousepad. Sure enough, there are ninety-three pages on the single document. Your lips tighten as your eye twitches.

“Well, it’s easier to write when you’re implementing an eighty percent quote paper.” You snark as you return to your pages.

“My paper has the bare minimum amount of quotes, you’re the idiot who can’t keep up.”

You huff your fingers returning to the paper as you typed away. The music kept playing as the two of you remained in silence. You pushed your hair out of your face. You continued looking between what you were writing and what you were needing to put.

“What are you even writing?” Todoroki asks you, his brows furrowing as you type away.

“The paper we’ll be submitting, why?” You ask, your eyes looking over at him before returning back to your screen.

“It’s kind of shit.”

“I bet yours is worse, so shut up.”

“You know, there’s no shame in admitting that you’re not good at writing.”

“There is nothing wrong with my writing!” You sneer as you continue writing, your fingers coming down to hit the keyboard harder. The clattering of the keys echoing in your ears as your heart hammers away.

“Nothing is making sense, it’s a research paper, y/l/n. Why are you trying to make the wording pretty? No one cares how many high-level words are in your vocabulary, be concise and stop being a fucking scholar.”

“Oh yeah, sorry, I forget that words like brain and neurology are too advanced for you.” You gasp as you stare at his unamused eyes. “Oh, let me dumb that down for you. My words too smart for your head.” You pout in mocking sadness as you return to your paper.

You can’t explain it, but your heart feels like it’s cracking as the two of you remain in tense silence as you finish writing.

It takes an hour, but you’re finally done with your fifty pages. You stand up without a single word. Your joints are sore from the uncomfortable floor, but you pack up without a sound. You can feel Todoroki’s eyes following after you as you throw your arms under your backpack and leave. His bedroom door slamming closed as you walk into the hallway.

Six pairs of eyes stare at you as you smile weakly.

“Bye, boys,” you say as you walk out.

This semester was nearly a month in and you were going to have to deal with him for the rest of the semester. Something told you that you were not going to be able to handle Todoroki for much longer.

Yes, you hated him, but you could not fight and argue with him every day of the week. It was just exhausting.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Three Hours Until Paper is Due

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Your eyes trained on Todoroki’s paper.

Your pointer dragging along sentences you hated. Editing basic issues he passed by and leaving comments where you deemed necessary.

“What the fuck was wrong with that sentence?” Todoroki asks, his eye twitching as you were busy typing in a reason why the sentence was wrong.

“Wait for my comments,” you sneer as you press publish.

You continue reading his paper. Your eyes concentrating on yet another sentence that you believed was subpar.

“You hate the entire thing because I didn’t use a semicolon?” Todoroki exclaims, his hand dragging against his face. “Are you fucking sane, y/l/n?”

“Very much so, you’re twenty-one, grow the fuck up.” You roll your eyes as you type up yet another rude comment on his paper.

The two of you had been in a study room together for the entire day. Yes, the entire past sixteen hours the two of you have sat in this room together attempting to fuse this damn paper. So far it was not working.

Since the two of you had edited your works during the week, today was actually supposed to be a fusion day only. The second the two of you began reading over your essay, Todoroki looked at you, his eyebrow twitching.

He had gone on to complain that what you were writing was atrocious. That it was by far one of the worst things he'd have to read in a while. You, not wanting to be talked to like that about your hard work, fought back.

The two of you were now editing every single little word of each other's paper. Nothing passed your eyes as suddenly you both became literary geniuses. Grammar and spelling suddenly making sense to you as you destroyed Todoroki’s paper in your hands. No word went unhighlighted. Comments littered the sides of the paper commenting on truly trivial things. Things that weren’t needed to be said. Things that a psychology professor would not care about in the slightest.

There was nothing productive about your comments. With the ticking time falling through your fingers the two of you should be paying greater attention to what you were doing. But the anger, the uncontrollable rage for what was happening was too large, too grand to be ignored.

The two of you were obsessed with every new comment that was made. Your fingers scrolling to the new comment to yell and argue about how the other one was being childish. It was infuriating and you wanted to leave. Fuck Midnight’s random matching machine, that thing had to be broken if it landed on Todoroki.

“I don’t know why I didn’t fight Midnight on why you were my partner.” You growl as you highlight an entire block text of a quote and wrote in that it seemed fictitious and off-topic. “You’re the most immature person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“Oh please, I have a niece who’s in her terrible twos and behaves better than you do on a good day.” Todoroki jeers his eyes like ice as he glares at you.

“I’ve met a four-year-old who’s able to write more complete sentences than you!” You sass, your elbows on the study room table, your face leaning in towards his. “You either write run-on sentences or a three-word sentence. Did you ever learn about the subject and predicate of a sentence? I would be more than happy to teach you because it’s obvious you weren’t taught!”

“Honestly, it shocks me that you’re even a STEM major. You want to be what? A doctor? Oh please, you have to be actually smart and a team player. But you? I have never seen you once try to be apart of the team. If it’s not your way, it’s no one's way.”

“Aw, you do know things about me.” You coo, but your words are steely. Your nostrils flare as you lean away. “Don’t even fucking start on me with the team playing. I participate in groups, I fucking love group work. Just because I don’t enjoy doing these things with you doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it at all. You’re not the center of my world.”

I’d beg to differ.” Todoroki coldly smirks, his body shifting closer to yours, and you move in too. Your eyes flash down to his lips that are pulled into a disgustingly attractive smirk. His muscles tensing on his arms. “Tell me, y/l/n, what are the different things the body goes through when you’re attracted to someone. It seems like you don’t fucking know this.”

Your eyes narrow, what was this some fucking test? Of course, you knew! You spent an entire fucking month researching it. Your hand moves to wipe a rolling piece of sweat from your temple. When did it get so damn hot in this cold room?

“The main components of being attracted to someone is summed up in the following physiological states. When attracted to someone, eyes dilate. Bodies sweat more. Bodies become in sync, due to mirroring habits people have when they are high on endorphins. Dopamine levels rise as well as serotonin. Dopamine helps regulate movement, attention, learning, and emotional responses. It also enables us not only to see rewards but to take action to move toward them. Since dopamine contributes to feelings of pleasure and satisfaction as part of the reward system. It also plays a part in addiction. Serotonin in the brain is thought to regulate anxiety, happiness, and mood. The more you have the better your mood. It was also seen that the putamen and the insula light up on an MRI. Indicating that the studied person is experiencing feelings of romantic love, or attraction.” You snark this all while staring him in the eyes.

Your body as tensed as his.

Neither one of you moving.

Neither one of you allowing yourselves to breathe heavily.

“You don’t even fucking see it, do you?” Todoroki growls as he leans back.

You lean back as well, your arms folding. His arms fold.

“See what Einstein? That I fucking know what I’m doing despite what you think? Are you fucking kidding me Todoroki? I deserve to fucking be here even if you hate me! Would you for one moment stop being a complete asshole to me and fucking leave me alone? And people fucking wonder why I hate you,” you hiss leaning in.

Todoroki’s hands slam onto the table. You jump taken off guard due to the loud noise, and you feel your breath stop in your throat as he leans in dangerously close. His face is centimeters away from you, his eyes angry and yet convoluted with something else...

Your eyes widen as your jaw drops slightly, did you finally push him over the edge?

You watch as his own eyes widen slightly he chuckles. The sound is deep, running against your skin in a way that sends chills down your spine as his eyes trail your body.

“Your eyes are dilated right now,” Todoroki observes, his voice low and husky. “You're sweating just the slightest bit, don’t think I didn’t catch you wiping it away. Your body has been moving in sync with my own this entire fucking month. I’m sure your dopamine levels are soaring on account to your attention to me, is your heart racing because of me? Are you anxious? I think you are, which means you have a healthy amount of serotonin in your body. The putamen and the insula make the hate circuit more interesting. Both of these areas light up on an MRI when the person is experiencing feelings of romantic love. So, you tell me, y/l/n, do you actually hate me? Or are you attracted to me?”

Your eyes are wide, Todoroki’s soft yet heavy breathing hits your lips as you continue staring at him. The wide and cocky grin on his face is infuriating, yet stupidly hot. Your blood feels like it’s boiling, anger and fury pumping through your veins as you take in his words again. The knowing laughter that slips from his mouth only further incites your swinging emotions.

“That’s what I thought.” Todoroki determined as he moved to sit back down.

Now you were no idiot. But what you did next was fucking dumb.

Your fingers lashed out, fisting into the collar of his shirt and slammed your lips into a searing kiss against his own.

The windows had been drawn earlier on account of your noisy roommates and friends taking pictures of the two of you fighting. The door was also locked due to that fact, and you were planning on using that to your advantage.

Your lips pressed against his, hot and heavy movements as you pressed further into him. Uncaring, unconcerned about his reaction.

Todoroki groaned softly, his lips moving to keep up with yours. His fingers digging into your biceps as the two of you stood up, leaning over the table as your lips continued this passion-filled battle.

His lips are fervent against yours and your mind spins from having his mouth against yours. Where you really all this time just attracted to him but refused to admit it to yourself? Todoroki’s hands move from your biceps to searching the table, your eyes barely manage to open. They’re heavy with lust, laced with growing desire as your lips part. The books and laptops are taken off the table, leaving the table meant for four students empty and clear. As you come back up from placing your laptop down, Todoroki’s warm hands feel like fire against your heated skin. And you let him pull your face in for another impassioned kiss.

His lips are heavy against yours, pushing and pulling you in with every movement of his lips. He continues pulling you closer and soon enough you’re climbing on top of the table, pants leaving your mouth from the high position of the table as you crawl closer to the boy who was making your heart beat faster than any strenuous activity. As you move closer, his hand runs from your face to rest against your ass. His hands are strong against your ass, and he pulls you nearer so that you’re sitting on the edge of the table, his body between your open legs.

You’re gasping now, sharp breathing as you try to calm your nerves. This man set your mind on fire, and you were drowning in his lips. His mouth dissipating all the anger and hatred you held in mere seconds. Your mouth opens and your tongue swipes at his bottom lip, pleading for entry. Todoroki moves his hands from your ass, trailing down your legs to pull you closer to him, and his mouth opens granting you entry.

Tongues crash together in the middle. Dominance riding high on both of your parts, neither one of you wants to let the other into each other's mouth. But lord, is his tongue working magic against yours. Your body shuddering as your legs wrap against his waist, your crotch pushing forward to grind into his pelvis. His budge is obvious against your clothed core and both of your moans tumble into your mouths.

His hands trail under your shirt and you arch against his chest, and in your moment of serenity, his tongue is able to push into your mouth. You shudder in his hold, his tongue tracing around your mouth in a way that makes your eyes roll back. His tongue runs against your tongue, swirling around it before tracing the roof of your mouth. A moan expels from your mouth as his other hand slips under your shirt. Todoroki laughs, his voice falling on his tongue and you tremble softly.

What the fuck was wrong with you? Making out with Todoroki Shouto in the library study room? There must be something in the air.

Todoroki’s mouth left yours completely, his hot mouth trailing down your neck. His teeth nipping at your skin, his lips sucking against your skin. Your head tosses back in increasing pleasure as your hips press against his bulge again. His mouth stays on the same spot, his mouth sucking harshly against your skin, his teeth biting down sinfully against your skin.

Your arms wrap around his body, pulling him desperately closer to you. The friction not enough, these actions not strong enough for you. “Don’t be a pussy about fucking me.” You can’t keep yourself from stating as Todoroki pulls away from your neck. Your skin throbs from the hickey that has for sure formed.

“Don’t worry,” Todoroki smirks as he lifts your shirt over your head, “I won’t.”

You suck in a sharp breath of air as the cold air hits your exposed body. You feel dirty for wanting to fuck Todoroki. You feel disgusting and delirious for wanting him to claim you right in an often-used library study room. You don’t have time to think anymore as his lips come back to claim your lips. This time, you’re not going to give in as your teeth sink into his bruised lower lip.

The harsh motion of your teeth sinking into his plump and used lips makes him moan. The sound is electrifying to your ears. Your tongue slides back out to soothe over his throbbing lip. Your grin spreading across your face as Todoroki picks you up from the table. Your body shudders as your aroused sex brushes up against his hard cock. His hips thrusting up against your own and you cry out in his mouth. Your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip as Todoroki’s mouth trails down your chin. His teeth brushing against your jaw causing your hips to roll out against him.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you bring your mouth against his neck. Your mouth trails peppering kisses against his strained neck, and your hips grind down against his bulge. “Please take your shitty shirt off, Todoroki.” Your groan as your fingers drag against his muscular back. The muscles delicious against your skin, yet you feel denied, you feel teased at the fact you can feel him better.

Todoroki moans as your heavy and hot breathing makes his mind reel against the cold saliva on his neck. “Call me Shouto, y/n, I think we’re past this last name business.” He growls. The simple use of your name sends a heavy shiver down your spine. You never thought you’d hear him call you y/n and Shouto felt like a stranger on your tongue, but you feel coy as you nod.

You push away, your hair whipping over your shoulder as you stare at his blue and gray eyes. You watch his pupils that are blown wide stare into you as you lean in close. The sweat building slowly on his temple as your mouth pressed against his ear softly.

“Of course, Shouto,” you accentuate his name and he groans.

His hands grip tighter against you as his lips come back against yours.

Your hands reach down for the hem of his shirt and you waste no time in tearing it up over his head. His toned body now exposed for your desiring eyes as you breathe shakily. Maybe you were always attracted to him.

You look at him and a proud blush spreads across your face as he stares at your breasts. You were not at all wearing a cute set, they were simple, black and not revealing. But the way Shouto was looking at you. The way his finger trailed up to your covered bra made you believe that you were wearing the best lingerie set in existence. “Do you like this set?” You tease, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip as you look into his eyes under your eyelashes.

“I think I’ve been the world's biggest idiot for denying you for so long.” Shouto groans as his face pushes forward to kiss your breasts. You feel like you’re melting in his arms as his lips ravish your tender breasts.

“Who says -- fuck -- who says I want you?” You gasp as his mouth continues trailing sweet and hot kisses against your skin. “I’m a wanted woman, you know.”

“Like hell, I’m letting you go now,” Shouto grunts his large hands enveloping your breasts as he gropes them. “Don’t pretend you don’t want to be mine.”

You don’t have the chance to respond back as Shouto’s right-hand moves behind your back and removes your bra with one hand. The smooth action somehow turning you further on. The bra is thrown off your body and your breasts bounce as they’re not entirely exposed. You don’t know how to feel bashful or to feel confident in the way that Shouto stares at your exposed chest. His eyes locked on your breasts, his lips dragging against his teeth as he looks back up at you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Shouto groans as his mouth slips your nipple into his mouth. You cry out as your hips roll against his crotch again, and you feel him walking forward.

You whine as Shouto sets your back onto the cold surface of the library table. Your pants heighten as he slips off your sweatpants. The cold air hitting your hot legs making you shudder at the temperature difference.

His fingers roll your free nipple between his fingers. The sensations on your nipples overwhelming as your hips thrash against his. Moans and gasps pour out of your mouth as he continues ravishing your breasts. His teeth nipping and pulling on the sensitive skin. Your head throws back as he pulls away, a resonating pop filling your ears as he lets go of your nipple. Harsh heaves leave your mouth as you look down, your breasts shine with his saliva and you moan again.

“I’m going to fucking eat you out, and you’re going to watch me the entire fucking time,” Shouto commands you, his fingers hooking around your panties. “Do you understand?”

Breathlessly you nod your head. Your eyes locking onto his bi-colored ones as your panties join the rest of your clothes on the floor. Shouto chuckles as his finger drags against your soaked slit, “You’re so fucking wet.” Shouto remarks and your body shudders against his actions. Your eyes flutter closed before you force them back open to peer down at Shouto, “Good girl.” He praises and you feel your pussy throbs at those two words.

Shouto presses a hand against your waist and you watch as he sinks two fingers into your blazing heat. You cry out in pleasure as his heated fingers plunge in and out of you. Your eyes struggle to keep themselves onto his proud form. Your hand slaps across your mouth as his fingers curl within you. Their curvature adding even more stimulating pleasure within your body. Melodious moans are now muffled underneath your hands and Shouto sneers at that.

“Don’t hide what I’m making you feel, y/n.” Shouto snaps. His fingers increasing in their roughness as they pound against your soaked pussy. “Don’t you want the world to know that I’m the one making you feel this way?”

Your hand trembles as you move it away from your mouth, but your teeth subconsciously clamp down onto your bottom lip. You’re embarrassed at being caught in the library. Even though you were attracted to Shouto, you didn’t want to be found in this state.

On a public table, legs wide open, and Shouto’s fingers deep into your pussy.

Shouto, unsatisfied with your quiet affirmations of his actions, slips another finger into your aching pussy. A silent shriek leaves your mouth as you push up off the table. The additional width of his thrusting fingers overwhelming.

“Oh,” Shouto laughs smugly, his smile stretching wide across his face. “Did you like that?”

“Yes, you blind fucking idiot!” You thrash against his fingers, your head falling back in your distracting pleasure. The sensations are numbing your mind. Your rationale slipping away as his fingernails drag against your inner walls. Your cunt feels like it’s pulsating faster than your heart as he continues going.

“Aren’t you just a fucking sweetheart.” Shouto purrs and his hand reaches out to lock in your hair. Your head is roughly brought back up, and a low groan of pain rumbles in your throat as you stare at his slightly furious eyes. “Didn’t I say to fucking look at me?”

Your chest heaves in embarrassment and wounded pride. Like hell, you were being dominated by him.

Before you could try wrestling him for dominance, his mouth lowers towards your dripping cunt. His tongue takes a languid and slow lick. His tongue slipping between your slit and you fall back onto the table. Your eyes fluttering in their battle to stay open. Your eyes still locking onto his victorious face.

Your legs tremble as he thrusts his tongue within your drenched walls. His tongue swirling in circles and thrusting further in. His fingers still thrusting into you as you fall apart on the table. On one lick, one measly irresistibly mind-numbing lick, your legs come crashing against his head. Shouto’s free hand moves to grip onto your trembling thighs. His tongue coaxing your orgasm closer to the edge.

“S-Shouto!” You curse, your hips moving desperately against his mouth. Your hips were unforgiving against his merciless tongue.

Your eyes struggle to remain locked on his eyes, your body twitching with the building pleasure. The electricity igniting in your flesh and bloodstream. You can hear the sounds of your squelching pussy against his moving fingers, and your jaw drops. You’re under his absolute control and you're no longer able to hold back anymore as your orgasm is right on the edge, but then he pulls away. His fingers and tongue disappearing from within you. Causing you to whimper in pain, in lust, and in denied orgasm.

“Suck yourself off my fingers.” Shouto pants as his arousal covered fingers press against your mouth. You take his fingers without a second thought. Your teeth scraping softly against his fingers as you suck your juices off of him. Your eyes remain on his as your tongue slips between each finger. You suck onto his fingers as he pulls away and Shouto growls as he pulls his hand away from you.

“Get up.” Shouto snaps, his hands moving to remove the belt around his waist, and you are quick to slide off the table. Your knees buckling under your weight as Shouto removes his pants. You watch in an almost lusting horror as his cock springs out from under his underwear. He was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever seen and your throat feels dry as he gasps. His dick must be hypersensitive already.

Steeling yourself over, you drop to your knees, uncaring that he wasn’t quite ready as Shouto struggles to step out of his pants.

As soon as his feet are free, your hands immediately grab his length. His girth wide enough you struggled to hold it with one hand. You smirked at the fact that he had two protruding veins on both sides of his cock, how typical for this half and half genetic phenonium.

“Y-Y/n…” Shouto stutters as your hand fists up and down his length in pretense. Your eyes snapping up to meet his lust covered ones.

“Now,” You sigh as your thumb rolls over the pre-cum that slips from the tip of his head. “I better not catch you not looking at me, understood?”

Shouto licks his lips, his eyebrow quirking. “I don’t take orders from you.”

You smile softly, but there’s a strong sadistic tone to it as your hands twist his skin. Shouto curses as he nods, “Fine!”

“Good boy," you tease as your mouth opens and you let him penetrate it. His girth so wide you had to open wider than you were used to. You gasp as you push him further down your throat. Your eyes flashing up to see Shouto struggling to keep his head down and eyes wide. Good god, you hope you were wet enough to take him in without lube.

Your mouth sinks down as far as you can go while not straining yourself. Your fingers trailing up and down his toned thighs as you move your head up and down his length. You’re now in a smooth rhythm, sucking his cock with enough vigor to make Shouto curse your name.

Your movements signal to Shouto that he can move as well. Shouto groans and his hips move forward. You relax against his rocking hips, you're focused on your breathing as his cock moves up and down your throat. Deeper and deeper, you feel his cock move within you. His hand pressing against the back of your throat, and you gag softly against his length.

Your eyes look back up to see Shouto’s eyes closed. Moans and pants spilling out with every thrust, and your cheeks hollow out. Creating a vacuum sensation against his length.

“Fucking shit!” Shouto snaps. His hands tangling within your locks as he overtakes your dominance. Shouto then begins fucking your throat without hesitation. “Taking my cock like the dirty slut you are, of course, you would be good at this,” he hisses as his cock only goes further down your throat.

You struggle to breathe with his thrusting. His snapping hips overwhelming you with their speed and depth. He’s barbarous against your throat. Uncaring about the burning sensation erupting through your airway as he continues at his strength and speed. Your tongue swirls around his thrusting cock. Trailing against his veins as his hips stutter.

You moan against his length. The action allowing you to gain more air and sending a snarl from Shouto’s mouth as his pace increases.

His hips abuse your throat, and you’re delighted in the fact that you’re keeping up. The soft gags that occasionally slip from your mouth stirring him on. The hum on your throat allowing him to further his strength and speed as your actions overwhelm him. He’s sinful yet heavenly in your mouth and you want him in your dripping cunt. Your thighs shaking with the mere thought of him having his way with you.

He pulls his length away from your mouth. Your saliva stringing between your mouth and his still erect cock. You cough as you try taking in the air again, the lack of oxygen had been ignored as your pleasure was so high.

However, you don’t have the time to adjust to your new air as Shouto pulls you up from the floor. His mouth once again attacking yours as you find your back pressed against the table. His lips are intoxicating, and you can still taste yourself in his mouth. You moan as he lifts you up on the table again.

“Fuck you’re amazing.” Shouto grunts as his mouth trails down your neck and you shudder. How you craved a man you were ready to beat the shit out of earlier was beyond you. Maybe attraction and hatred ran on a fine line.

“I know I am,” you gasp as he spreads your legs, the tip of his cock stroking your soaked folds.

“I’ll get you to say it when my cock is in you,” Shouto chuckles and you moan at the feeling of the tip of his head sinking into your trembling cunt. “Are you ready?”

Your head nods nevertheless, and you still as he chuckles.

“Say it.”

“Shouto--”

“I want to hear you say it," he interrupts, and you stare into his bi-colored eyes and feel as if you’re drowning in his them. They’re desperate, needy, and full of want. It’s enough to steal your breath away as you nod again.

“Please fuck me.” You whisper, and Shouto smiles.

A shriek crashes through your mouth as he pushes his cock all the way into your awaiting cunt without hesitation. His girth stretches you out in an unimaginable way. Your walls fluttering as they attempt to relax and grow used to his size. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking huge!” You cry as your body trembles as Shouto leans forward. His own breathing a quiet hiss as your walls clench around him.

“I bet I’m the biggest you’ve e-ever had.” Shouto cockily rasps, but his words feel powerless as he is affected by your pulsating walls. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

You whimper as the painful throb in your pussy lulls and you wiggle your hips against him, “N-Now fuck me right. Don’t fucking make me regret giving in.” You gasp as his eyes lock on yours.

There’s something unsaid flowing between the two of you. An agreement, a secret being whispered through your eyes. Three years of frustration and denied attraction. Three years of forced hatred disappearing between your bodies.

Shouto smiles, small and sweet, yet terribly contrasting as he adheres to your demand. His hips position to a better angle, and you can only watch with fluttering eyes as he begins ramming into you. Your hips move in time with his. Both of you desperate under your denied orgasm and this heightened state of pleasure. Shouto’s hands grip your waist. His grip leaving bruised marks as he slams your body faster against his huge cock. He's stretching you out deliciously. His hands drag out under your ass, clenching your supple flesh as this tiny different position stretches you out in a mind-numbing way.

His hips crashing into yours is transcending, and your cries only fuel Shouto on. Your body feels as if it is on fire as he drags a single leg up onto his shoulder. His cock bottoming out into you making your back arch off the table as you wail out his name. Shouto’s heated fingers press against your throbbing clit. You sputter as he rubs harsh and delicate figure-eights onto your puffy nerve. Your pussy is clamping down on his moving cock, slowing him down slightly, before he grunts and increases his speed and strength.

Your noises of pleasure silences as his cock hits the back of your walls, your legs thrashing around as he drilled into you the same way.

Again and again.

More and more.

His cock smashing against your walls until he tilts his angle and comes down hard against your g-spot.

“SHOUTO!!!” You scream as he continues pounding into your g-spot. His name a prayer on your lips as he continues fucking your brains out.

You shoot up off the table, your screams sounding in his ear as you wrap your arms around him. Despite the fact that your leg was on his shoulder, you held on. The angle allowing Shouto to drive his cock against your g-spot over and over again, your screams drowning out as his mouth covered yours. His body is giving you exploding sensations, your tightness making Shouto moan and curse.

“I needa -- fuck yes, baby do that again -- I needa come!” You squeak as your body rocks against his own.

“Come for me, baby.” Shouto sighs into your mouth. “Come around my cock.”

The pleasure in your belly is overwhelming, it's building up so fast, and your toes curl in electrifying pleasure. You can’t handle it anymore, the pleasure being too much.

Your orgasm crashes through you, your vision turning white as your jaw drops as your screams go silent. Shouto’s mouth continues to move against yours, kissing sloppily against your teeth as he chases his own orgasm.

His hips continue slamming into you, they’re brutal as they slam over and over again. He’s chanting your name as your stimulated cunt continues clenching around his length. His pace is making you grow limp in his arms, although your hips still continue to roll against his. His breathing is short and tense. Panting as he struggles to keep himself composed.

“Come inside me…” You whine into his ear, desperate to feel his hot seed expelling within you.

His cock stretches you out in a new way as he presses you back onto the table his arm lifting your second leg over his shoulder. The twin bulging veins on his cock rubbing a fire against your walls. Shouto fucks you mercilessly, his fingers clenching your ass as you come apart for him. Shouto, unable to keep a controlled mind on his shoulder, loses himself within you. His hips drilling forward one last time. A heavy load shooting into your throbbing cunt.

Shaky breathing fills the air as he pulls out of you.

You whine at the lack of him within you, and your body relaxes as he steps back. Your hands pressed against the table as you pant, desperate to find your air again. A whimper on your tongue as you feel your combine cum seeping from your clenching pussy.

“You were amazing.” Shouto chuckles as he leans down next to you.

You moan as you look over at him.

“I can’t believe I let you fuck me in the library without you even buying me dinner…”

“...would you let me buy you dinner one day?”

Your eyes blink as you stare at your rival in front of you. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire as you nod.

“I’d love to…”

You moan softly as his lips press against yours.

You lose yourself in his lips until the reason why you’re in this library to begin with flashes across your mind.

“SHOUTO THE PAPER!”

Bonus!

Everyone stared as you held onto Shouto’s hand as you walked into your psychology class. Everyone was silent as the two of you sat next to each other in the same row you two had claimed as your own.

No one dared to speak as you kept your head down and Shouto, unconcerned about others' opinions, placed his arm around your shoulder.

You’re pretty sure you heard people choking on their air at that fact.

Midnight thankfully strolls in, her hands full of her things as she’s ready to get these presentations over with.

“Thank you to all of you who turned in your papers on time! We only had one pair not do that!” Midnight chirped as she stared at you and Shouto.

There was a spike of restless energy in the room as they all put together quickly that it was top students Todoroki Shouto and you.

“Care to explain to us why it was late, and why you two are suddenly… buddy-buddy?” Midnight grins, her cheeks blushing as she finally was able to bring the two of you together, not that you knew anyways.

Shouto stood up, and your heart beat in your chest as you had no idea what he was going to say.

“We fucked.”

And screams sounded throughout the classroom.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #burnedbyshoto does kinktober

5K notes · View notes

haliyam · 3 years

Text

interim (ii)

zeke x reader/oc

summary: You return to Liberio not long after the Warriors arrive home from their failed mission in Paradis and discover that things have changed. (Or they will, and maybe a little more with Zeke than you expect.) [Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead]

AO3 link | Ch 1 | Ch 3

Hi again! I forgot to note in the first chapter that Reader here is 19 years old, while Zeke is 25. (Clearly, before the developments of this story, there was nothing but friendship there.) For the other Warriors, I put Pieck at 19 as well, while Porco is Reiner's age (around 17/18 that year). Marcel would have been the same age as Pieck and Reader in my headcanon. If you're not comfortable with the age difference, I understand.

Also, about university here so you don't get confused this chapter - I lifted the medical school system for Marley from Germany's current system where after a competitive state exam post-high school, students are able to head straight for medical school for a 6-year track followed by specialization.

Reminder that the Reader/OC, default name Lucy, is a cis-female Eldian character with a set background, but please feel free to set the substitution for the Reader to your chosen First Name using the InteractiveFics browser extension if you’re reading through the browser! So that would be: Lucy = Your or your character's First Name. Because reader will have a set background, you'll have a set surname as well.

Chapter 2

You don’t even get a moment to breathe. General List launches into a speech about the nerve of other so-called nations almost as soon as you sit down. Apparently, those in the Mid East peninsula have grown considerably bold over the last few months, with several navy ships withdrawing from the port of Ichakar and transferring, presumably, to Qali - which gives them a better angle from which to attack the mainland if they so wish it. They’ve also fortified their borders—ground troops distributed across the land close to Marley’s newly acquired cities—which is of course the sovereign right of those nations, but it’s blasphemy to the regime’s unending ambition.

You wish they had given you a brief with all this information before the meeting, the kind you have seen Willy and father poring over in their office in the past, but you get the feeling that the general is unloading information on you with the intent to overwhelm.

“On the diplomatic front,” he continues with a hint of mockery, because of course he thinks of such things as futile, “they have been making demands. Asking that we keep to our waters when it is they who have encroached upon ours! The audacity—the delineation clearly states—” He continues to ramble until he is red in the face, but your neutral expression must slip into a wide-eyed look at some point, because he regains his composure with a visible wrinkle of his nose. “This arrogance can only mean one thing.”

He stares at you, and you realize he is expecting you to answer. You feel all eyes at the table on you, the Commander’s especially, and clear your throat. “...Weapons research, Sir?”

“Weapons development, Miss Tybur,” he corrects you. “Advanced and more prolific than we may have considered.”

He pauses, and you can’t help but speak. You can tell Magath knows it because he sits up straighter somehow, and in a moment of rebellion, you refuse to recognize the caution in his posture. “With all due respect, Sir, the… armaments race among the other nations is no secret, and on Eldian labor, no less.”

A fist slamming on the desk causes everyone around it to jump in their seats. “It’s what Eldians deserve!” the general next to List says, so naturally that he might have been born saying it. You blink, the heat of embarrassment and indignation crawling up your neck, but it’s only with List’s raised hand that the man remembers that the white band on your left arm is only for show. He glances away. “Present company excluded, of course.”

With the exception of his hand, List continues as though neither of you ever interrupted him. “And now, to the point. We need further information on the status of this little race. That is where you come in, Miss Tybur. You will use your family’s connections to enter the peninsula with our people - the peninsula and beyond, as the exact lay of their operations lies beyond our ken - and retrieve this information.”

It’s one thing to predict a general’s words and another to be confronted with them. You suppose you were still hoping he wouldn’t say it. “General List, are you saying you want a Tybur to be a spy?”

List glances over at Magath. “They were trained for interrogation, weren’t they?” Your old instructor is barely able to nod before the general recalls to you, “Ah, yes, I read the file. You withstood all but the final test. A failure then, but rather more a fluke, in my opinion. An irreplicable circumstance.”

You don’t say anything. You would rather not remember that night. Or that particular moment.

He takes your silence for agreement. “And so I answer, why not? You became a Warrior candidate - unprecedented initiative and involvement by the Tybur family. Why should this be any different?”

“Because—” Because becoming a Warrior isn’t a choice a child makes of their own free will, not really, but a Tybur doesn’t question the decisions of the former head of the family, of father, before all these strangers. No matter that they were loyal to him. You purse your lips. “Sir, I just don’t believe I’m the right person for this.”

“Your file did say you were always hasty, Miss Tybur,” List says, and you both glance at Magath at that. He doesn’t nod, only meets your gazes. He seems as trapped in this as you are, which makes your resentment for him ebb only slightly. “But you should know better now.”

Now you’re getting irritated. The temper that was your closest companion in your early childhood, and then your early adolescence seizes your fist under the table as List continues. “How goes Foundation operations?”

The Tybur Family Foundation. Set up by Walter Tybur when he first became head of the family and operated by the eponymous Tyburs - most often chaired by the spouse of whoever leads it. Your mother first, once, when she cared to, and now Mila. It provides healthcare and educational opportunities for ‘peoples once oppressed by the Eldian Empire,’ as part of continuing reparations for sins the Tybur family did not commit. Or so they say. Many of its employees now are Eldian, part of Willy’s initiative to improve Eldian relations… but in reality it does little when the Foundation is only a grantmaking organization.

“Well enough, Sir.”

“Is that so? From what I hear, the Foundation is unable to set up even offices in several countries in spite of the family’s stellar international relations.”

“And,” you add carefully, “if they ever catch wind of my close involvement with the regime even after all this time, that will not improve.”

“Clearly, Miss Tybur.” His level gaze shifts to patronizing in all the ways you hate. “But say you become more independent. Distance yourself from the military that leads our fine motherland… Say,” he smiles, “that you make overtures of dissatisfaction with Marley’s cruel expansionist policies and express the utmost sympathy for other nations. Perhaps then they will permit you to expand your operations within their borders.”

Your jaw almost drops at the very suggestion. You’ve always thought, since Willy became Lord Tybur, that only the Tyburs have the power to change the direction of Marley. For obvious reasons, not so obvious to the rest of the world, but also for the heritage you represent. If the Tybur family can be good Eldians, why can they not be only one of many good Eldians? Why not introduce the concept that any Eldian can be good, as any other race of people?

“You…” You rein in your reaction even as your imagination sets off in the direction List has set it—and far more. Especially the part where the Tybur family spreads the good name of Eldians throughout the world. No more ‘special’ treatment, no more interment zones…

No more Warriors.

Maybe. If Marley gets what it wants.

You would allow that? was your question. But the answer, you understand suddenly, is that they would allow perhaps the chance of it, in exchange for Marley’s continued expansion using Eldian bodies on the front lines. A slim chance of sparing Eldian lives for the certainty of losing them. You feel lightheaded just considering it. You want to help, but you are the last person who should hold so many lives in her hands.

Your eyes refocus on General List. A pleased smile brims beneath his well-trimmed beard, like he’s already read your mind. But he can’t know—you’ve shared your thoughts with no one but Willy and Lara, who have been as dismissive as they have been receptive. In other words, as though you’re still the child father sent away thirteen years ago they expect will eventually forget all her questions.

“Does Lord Tybur know about this, Sir?” You eye the intelligence officer not far from List.

List clears his throat. “Not as yet. Lord Tybur might be more receptive to such a scheme were his sister to present it to him herself. We are aware that Lady Tybur chairs the Foundation. Her movements are conservative, but she may agree to a more generous, active Foundation on your word.”

Scheme. That’s what it is, but that isn’t what really catches your attention. Willy and Mila, listening to you? You want to burst into laughter, tell them that they have severely misunderstood the dynamics of the Tybur family. But that intelligence officer is here, which makes you think List is lying.

“Why not ask Lady Tybur to head the operation?”

“Lord Tybur would never allow us to risk his wife,” List laughs. The implication of his words is hardly lost on you, but the general tempers his mockery with a compliment. “And we believe a new, younger face for the Foundation - perhaps one our enemies believe to be foolishly idealistic - will better suit it.”

Foolishly idealistic. Like the sort of person who would agree to this plan. Your face doesn’t fall, but your eyes do - toward the table, the way the fingers of each general drum against the wood. Magath’s hands clasp each other, firm as ever. When you look up to List again, you frown.

“Sir, you know that I’ve returned to Liberio to enter the university’s medical program.”

“Yes, yes, we were quite impressed when we learned of your state exam results, Miss Tybur,” List waves, impatient. He’s been relaxed back against his chair, but now that his certainty is dwindling, he leans forward on the table. “But think. Look at the bigger picture. As a physician you may help a man in need one after the other - years and years down the line. Six years at the shortest, and if you mean to be a specialist, how much longer? But with the Foundation’s resources, and with our backing at that, you will aid hundreds, thousands - and the motherland most importantly. Within the year. Half, if we move quickly.”

You bite your lip. You want it and you don’t. The Tyburs must do something, or else we are nothing were your exact words to Willy before. But the idea of retaking your name when you have only just arrived here nauseates you, and assisting the expansion, the destruction, under the guise of aid more so.

“I… would like time to give this some thought, Sir.”

A sigh seems to echo around the room, but it’s only all the men with you and their exasperation. Only Magath is expressionless as List visibly bites his tongue. He gives the commander a glare for good measure, as though it’s his fault you did not agree at once. “Very well,” he says. “But know that prolonging this will only bring harm to the motherland.”

You only nod. Much as you would like to have it, you have no intention of getting the last word here. You avert your gaze from the Commander when you permit the men to leave the room ahead of you.

It seems like the start of a rather miserable day - you’re practically scheduled to overthink all this some time this week, if not this afternoon - when, once the steady march of power has cleared from the hallway, Pieck meets you as you step out of the conference room.

“Boo.”

Your hand flies over your chest, but it’s a chuckle that comes out of you. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“So I’ve been told.” She peeks into the room behind you right as you close the doors. “The brass did not look pleased.”

You wince. “I gave them no reason to be. I hate to get the Commander in trouble, but...” You trail off. You both know you can’t say much more.

It’s Pieck’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“...Sorry.”

“That’s all right,” she shrugs. “I came here for lunch, not information.”

You doubt she knows the extent of the Tyburs’ relationship with the regime, but you can always trust Pieck to know not to pry. “You know, I remember now why you’re my favorite Warrior.”

“Oh?” Pieck grins. “Not the Boy Wonder?”

“Boy Wonder,” you repeat, the way the two of you always have when that name comes up - with a snicker and definitely with no one else around. You’ll never understand how the brass can say it with such straight faces. “So how about that meal?”

She pinches at the skin of your elbow through your sleeve. “Changing the subject doesn’t work on me, you know.”

You sigh. “Can we please eat first? I’m miserable enough without an empty stomach.”

“I guess some things don’t change.”

“Hey!” You half-scoff, half-laugh. With a wink, Pieck slips her arm around yours, and you start down the hallway in companionable silence.

Or you would, if you didn’t know that you owe her a little more than that. Reaching over to rest your free hand over the arm linked with yours, you look at her. “I’m sorry, Pieck. I really am.”

Pieck waits a moment, and then meets your gaze. She searches yours for the lie, but she already knows it won’t be there. You always were too candid for your own good. With a squeeze at your hand, she nods. “I know. Tell me all about it after that meal. Your treat, right?”

You blink, and then laugh with shaking relief. “Of course.”

You and Pieck fall back into the easy rapport you’ve shared since you became friends more than a decade ago. Contrary to her words, she doesn’t press you for answers as you decide on where to eat in the zone. For old times’ sake, you agree on the sandwich place two blocks from the Yeagers’, and you end up sharing a meal in your bedroom.

Sitting on your bed together, legs dangling over one edge as you nip at your food, you finally work up the courage to speak through your guilt and explain yourself and the past five years—or most of it. And of course Pieck is understanding, which makes you feel even more pathetic. True to form, she picks that up as well and gracefully changes the subject.

You’re the one who brings it back to what still hangs in the air over you when you’ve finished eating. Nothing personal—but though Marcel was the only one with whom you were ever close friends with, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie were your teammates too. You’d suffered your superiors together during training, and you’d been there for each of their first transformations. For all the experiments too; even their first assault mission.

“What happened?”

Propped up on one elbow, Pieck is lying on her side, legs tucked under her skirt as you set aside your trash. She accepts the glass you hand her from the table, eyes distant. “Zeke hasn’t told you?”

“Zeke won’t look at me unless he absolutely has to. You know how he is.”

Pieck groans. She knows. “He was so irritating after you stopped writing.”

You click your teeth in a wince. “Really?”

“Imagine, Lucy—after you all left, I was stuck with him and Porco. The abandonment issues didn’t just double, they were exponential. Multiply that with the ego and the sarcasm? The Commander was my favorite person those days.”

You laugh in spite of yourself. “I am so sorry, Pieck.”

“You should be,” she grumbles, but the remark is softened with a grin. When you grimace, she braces herself with a deep breath.

She tells you everything, or most of it: that the people of Paradis were shocked to find others alive outside of the walls, what Reiner and Bertholdt and Annie went through the past so many years, how the latter were captured—and exactly what happened to Marcel. She saves that one for last, and though you are infinitely more curious about the world behind the coward king’s walls, you reach for her hand again.

“I’m sorry, Pieck.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to make apologies all day, you know.”

“Don’t I?” you grin, embarrassed, teeth gritted even when your feigned mirth starts to droop. The dreamy way she speaks throws others off, but you know Pieck. She’s always been the most pragmatic of the Warriors and so she must feel silly, thinking about what could have been, had Marcel returned. Would a childhood crush have become something more between them if things were different? He had promised his family, and her specifically, that he would come home after saving the world. The thought, the regret for a chance not even yours gone, has a weight settling in your throat too.

You clear it and huff. “Well, it’s a great loss. I think everyone was a little in love with Marcel.”

Pieck glances at you.

“...Except Annie,” you add.

The sudden exemption makes Pieck choke with laughter, with tears not far behind. “Except Annie. Of course.”

You giggle, and both of you pretend not to see each other wiping your own eyes. “You know. Annie was always the toughest among us.” You pause. “Is. She is.” When Pieck’s laughter gives way to somber agreement, you ask, “What about Reiner? What has he said? I know what he’s said, but… two weeks of debriefing… it sounds like a little much.”

“He was there for years,” Pieck shakes her head. “He grew up there, Lucy. He’s… completely different now. Kind of like you.”

“I think that’s giving me a little too much credit.” You haven’t done anything remotely in the way of serving the motherland; not that you begrudge the others that the way you once did. “All I’ve done is see things and get upset. Until I can get my degree, and then until I can get the War Hammer, there’s nothing I can do.”

That’s a lie. There is apparently the Foundation—but the idea of directly assisting the regime in its efforts is something you cannot consider as you are.

“If you do become a doctor, will they let you have the War Hammer?”

You bite your lip. If only for Lara, you’re still bitter about that. “What was it all for otherwise? Though… I guess if I had inherited it then, there’s no way I’d ever be able to come back and see you all except under specific circumstances. Much less be permitted to study.”

Pieck only sighs, reaching for your hand. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. And when I think about it… a part of me is glad Marcel didn’t have to see all of what Marley has done. What we had to do in Paradis—and I only saw a speck.”

You know what the others did, but Zeke and Pieck’s involvement apart from retrieving your old comrades is still vague.

You squeeze her hand reassuringly, but you can’t help it. “What did you have to do?”

“What we’ve always had to,” she answers with a faint smile. Your friends always had tells when they would rather not say more, and this is unmistakably hers. Given your earlier explanation, you understand why. She intertwines your fingers with gratitude at your silence.

“So,” you start after a while, “how about some dessert before I walk you back to HQ?”

“Sure. I might as well treat myself a little before we have to head out to the mountains again.” At your questioning gaze, she says, “Training with the Panzer Unit. That’s what all the paperwork was for.”

“Gross.”

She chuckles. “That’s exactly what Zeke says.”

Your face falls at the mention of him. Relieved as you are with your progress with Pieck, Zeke is an entirely different ball game. You hate that that’s the phrase you even thought of.

“You know what?” Pieck sits up smacks her hands on her lap. “I’ll treat you, too.”

You perk up. “Really?”

“For a price.”

“...What’s that?”

“Talk to Zeke already. If I come back after a month to your gloomy faces still, I’m going to go crazy.”

“It’s only been a day,” you mutter. “And I’ve tried to apologize to him.”

Pieck gives you a knowing look.

“I did,” you insist helplessly, but you both know that’s probably a lie. In Pieck’s case. You know it is absolutely false: when Zeke came upstairs after dish duty, quietly closing the door to his room, you stepped out of yours and stood outside in the hallway, your hand raised to knock on his door. You just couldn’t do it. You can take Porco’s jabs any day, but last night, the thought of Zeke and his silence, or worse, his caustic cheer, sent you scurrying back to your room.

You sigh. “Fine.”

Amused, Pieck gets to her feet for the opportunity to loom akimbo over you. “Good. And if you start to lose heart, try to remember that six-year old who used to glare at Magath like she had nothing to lose. That girl had guts.”

“You mean the half-dead one who wasn’t allowed dinner and got a Warrior class’s worth of cleanup duty alone, whom you specifically told to get over herself if she didn’t want to actually die a few months into training?”

“Exactly. What is Zeke going to do? Tell you to go to your room without dinner?”

Maybe. You sigh. “Sometimes I don’t like it when you’re right.”

Pieck grins. “And when Zeke gets over himself—maybe he’ll tell you about his brother.”

Your shock would be better illustrated in this moment were you sipping a drink you could spit in her face. “His what?”

“Shh. I don’t think he’s told the Yeagers. I think… he only told Magath because I was there when he discovered it. Still,” she says when your eyes remain wide and expectant, “it’s not my place to say. So talk to him.”

Medicine is one of the few fields for which Eldians are permitted to pursue higher education. It’s only logical—there are only a few non-Eldians who care to treat pig-blooded devils, and the efforts of those who do are wasted on said filth. And so the regime allows the admission of more Eldians than often permitted under quotas for other majors, even if the number does remain small regardless.

After parting ways with Pieck, you find yourself standing in line in some administrative building in the University of Liberio in the midday heat of summer. The line stretches outside because this is the queue for Eldian students wishing to confirm their intention to enroll over a month from now. That’s all—you need only submit a form and pay a fee, and the line for non-Eldians students has long finished—but of course the line has barely moved for your kind.

You’re clutching your envelope and your permit to your chest, which you quickly realize is a terrible idea. Sweat is starting to trickle down the nape of your neck, and you start to fan yourself with the envelope. Talking to the other applicants in line is prohibited - you must be spaced far from one another so as not to make noise and distract students who actually deserve to be here.

It’s ridiculous. You can’t even leave the line because saving spots is prohibited. Something about being fair.

The frustration crawls up your neck in the form of prickling heat, and you feel a headache coming. You fan yourself more vigorously, trying to calm down. It takes a minute, but the background buzz eventually starts to soothe you, and you begin to accept that you can simply return to the Yeagers’ and change as soon as this is over. The glares your line receives from passing students and the guards watching you, ensuring none of you causes a ruckus (as if any Eldian would dare), fade under the memory of your childhood. You withstood it before, with Magath and the other drill instructors screaming in your face. You can ignore a few nasty looks.

With that as a frame of reference, the line is even almost... peaceful. The heat is dry, not humid, there’s no mud, no blisters in your feet, no rucksack weighing you down, and no rifle either.

Only the sudden rustle of paper as it slips from your thumb interrupts that peace.

“No!” you gasp, watching your permit flutter closer to a guard with his back turned.

Just then a hand swoops in to save it - its owner bent forward, dark hair falling over his face until he rights himself, permit in hand, and glances around. You sigh in relief when you spot the band around his arm and wave him over.

He jogs over to you, hand already extended with the permit. “Confirming your slot for the medical school?” he asks, brushing away the bangs that fall over his face. He’s got the slightest stubble around his jaw, which he brushes his fingers over when he notices you looking.

You meet his gaze when you notice you’re looking. “Yeah,” you say, clearing your throat. He smiles at once, as if he can tell you’re embarrassed, but he only casts a glance at the line behind and ahead of you. “It was a lot worse during my time. They had us looping around the gate.”

“Ugh, really?”

He nods, but swallows down his grimace to lick his lips. “I’ve… never seen you around the zone before.”

You blink. Smile a little as you glance around the line. “You know everyone in the zone?”

He opens his mouth to respond with a sheepish grin that makes his eyes twinkle when movement behind him catches your peripheral vision. One of the guards watching the line has noticed him and is stomping his way over. Noticing your alarm, he sticks out a hand. “I’m Kellan, by the way.”

“Lucy. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lucy,” he repeats, and you’re barely able to shake his hand when the guard yanks him back.

“Damn pig’s blood—!”

“I’m going, sir. Sorry,” says Kellan, ending the apology with his eyes on you even as he winces from the shorter man’s grip. When he’s eventually released, he ducks away and walks off. He glances over his shoulder to wave, but another guard keeps him moving with a shove.

The shorter one glares at you when he’s gone, and though you remember Pieck’s words, you know this isn’t the time or the place.

“Sorry,” you mutter, eyes to the ground as you turn ahead. Once he’s assured of your submission, he leaves too.

The line takes longer than you expect, but you survive the sweltering heat and submit your form just before the offices close. You hurry back to the zone afterward, dropping by the Galliard bakery to call on Mr. and Mrs. Galliard and offer your condolences. They are shocked but overjoyed to see you, and insist that you take your old favorites when they discover that you’ll be dropping in on Mr. Finger afterward.

You don’t stay long, though Mr. Finger is pleased about your choice of future employment. You feel even guiltier at the unspoken regret in his smile, and beg him not to mention it when he tries to thank you for the support the Tybur family has sent the Fingers over the years—the one thing you think Willy has ever done right.

You return to the Yeagers before dark, early enough to help Mrs. Yeager start with dinner. Dr. Yeager is apologetic as always, but you’re able to change the subject by serving the blueberry pie from the Galliards for a mid-meal dessert of sorts, and the dinner table relaxes soon after. Zeke is absent - he still hasn’t come home from work - so you make sure to leave some for him. This time, Mrs. Yeager allows you to take over cleanup, and the couple retires to their bedroom once the conversation fades into a comfortable silence.

You hope to meet Zeke right as he arrives, corner him into talking to you somehow unless he decides to miss dinner himself, but after half an hour of sitting at the dinner table, cleaning anything you might have missed in the kitchen and the dining room, and rearranging anything out of place in the living room, it starts to look like he won’t be coming anytime soon.

That’s fine, you tell yourself. You feel slimy from being out in the sun all afternoon anyway, and you treat yourself to a relaxing bath. Zeke is still away when you return to your room, and the calming warmth of your evening has you yawning. You have no choice but to change into your pajamas.

In truth, you’re a little relieved. Not that you’re particularly answerable to Pieck anyway, at least not until she finishes training with the Panzer Unit, but it won’t be your fault that you and Zeke weren’t able to talk tonight. But just to feel as though you’ve tried your very best, you keep yourself up by starting to write to Lara—and then regret your principle when you hear heavy footsteps outside and a soft click of the door across yours.

The word you’re writing skitters off to the edge of the paper in your surprise. Your heartbeat invades the tense silence of your room, but you manage to take a deep breath, folding your unfinished letter and slipping it under the paperweight on your desk.

Your door is your next obstacle.

Overlapping images of how Zeke will surely reject you race through your mind alongside the words you wish you could say, and you’re able to keep up with about... none of them. You thought that the words would come to you, and maybe they will, but the moment is about to come and you can’t think of a single word to say.

If you have time to worry, you have time to just get over there and do it, you tell yourself. You shake your head, regretting your own harshness, but also nod as you hastily gulp down the glass of water on your bedside table. Those words in mind, you move, switching one door for another. No longer standing nose-to-panel with your bedroom door, you’re doing it with Zeke’s in the hallway instead.

Hand raised to knock, you eye the light peeking out from the gap beneath the door. Knock. Just knock. The worst he can do is turn you away, and you’ll probably want to wriggle under the dirt and cry, but you’ll at least have tried. You owe it to him to try, like you did with Pieck, and you know you’re braver than this. Or you were, once upon a time.

If you’re still the same girl from years ago, you don’t get to find out just yet.

You hear his footsteps coming from the bathroom too late. No, it’s the heat of another and the familiar scent of his soap which alert you to his presence.

That and his voice, still too deep for the older boy you remember. “Aren’t you a little too old to still be knocking on my door at night?”

“Zeke,” you say, trying to pull your heart down from your throat before you turn and meet his flat expression. He’s in pajamas himself, his hair damp. You must not have heard him head for the bathroom you share down the hall. “Hi.”

That’s more than your mind could summon a while ago, but you still want to smack yourself.

His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath. His jaw shifts even as his pale eyes stare down at you in the dim light, as if deciding what to do with you... and then he sighs. He’s too tired to be glib tonight. “Can I help you, Lucy?”

Your lips purse with trepidation, but you stand your ground. “Can we talk?”

He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Looking down at you is clearly work. “I’m listening.”

You hesitate, trying not to make another face. It seems to come naturally with Zeke around, but you resist the urge, and instead tilt your head to the side. There is no light coming from the master bedroom down the length of the hallway. When you glance back up at Zeke, you give him a pointed look.

Zeke sighs again, and then… decides to just brush past you to grab his doorknob.

Your stomach twists with both disappointment and pique. “Zeke,” you whisper furiously, barely just stomping your foot.

He whips his head to face you, halfway inside already. “What?” he whispers back, like you’re nagging him. Then he rolls his eyes, swinging his door wide open and backing into it to give you room.

“Get in.”

Sorry for the dearth of Zeke moments this chapter, but the next one will mooostly feature him and yes we'll finally find out why Zeke is upset. I used to write very long chapters with fics, but that really exhausted me so I'm trying to write shorter now to keep myself from burning out. But I'm enjoying writing in 2nd person! I never used to do it because it was frowned upon long ago, and possibly still is now? But idc anymore it's fun to try.

Thank you for reading!

#zeke x reader #zeke x oc #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager x oc #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger x oc #aot #snk #aot fic #aot fanfic #haliyam #interim #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #snk fanfic

40 notes · View notes

floatinginwords · 3 years

Text

Saved by the Devil (10/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: You spend a little time with Tommy (Again sorry about my summaries i suck at them)

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Fem!reader (not romantic..but we are getting there slowly but surely)

A/n: Hi everyone. this chapter maybe a bit shorter than what i usually write and i didnt proof read this one so apologizes for that. This semester is just annoying. Too much going on for stupid online courses. Anyway this chapter is bit more in Tommys p.o.v, i mean we get a bit of readers in the end but yea...if you dont like that tell me or if you do tell me. If you guys have any questions or anything like that just tell me. And of course and always have a lovely day.

Thomas Shelby leads you to a little apartment near his office. He knew he could have driven you to the train station, given you some fare as you went on your way. He could have driven you to London. Hell, he could have paid someone to do it. But there was part of him deep down within that didn’t want you to go yet. It was a surprise for him to see you in the office. He hadn’t been avoiding you, things were just getting hectic around with the business. And with the constant pressure from the inspector and the sudden charges on Arthur and Michael, his focus needed to be sharp. And then he exits his office and see you standing with Lizzie, Polly, and Esme. For the first since he’s known you, he actually detected a little bit of nervousness from you.

At first he didn’t understand why you wanted to help in his little plan. It didn’t make sense for you to put yourself in harms way with all the shit you’ve already been through. He notices that when he asks about your father the way you tense up. He doesn’t know why he asks, its something he rather not talk about either. But it was a question that bothered him for awhile. He could of asked your father, in that last meeting when…

Thomas shakes his head from his thoughts turning to look at you who seemed just as dazed and muddled in their own thoughts. You were definitely an enigma to him. He doesn’t even remember what he said to make you laugh. All he remembers is that he did.

To him you laugh was like a canary singing a song of hope in the middle of brutal winter. Thomas doesn’t think he ever heard a sound so sweet. He feels his lips stretch into a smile, something that felt foreign on his face. It was definitely something he hadn’t done in awhile. So as he walks you to his place, keeping a gentle hand on your elbow to keep your balance. He couldn’t help but to think to himself ‘how can I hear that sound again?’

So he leads you in the apartment, setting you down on his couch. You flop down like a child and he cant help but be amused at your drunken state.

“Mr.Shelby, I believe I drank too much.” You hiccup.

“Thats alright,” Thomas says, “Listen you can rest here and we’ll talk more in the morning.” He doesn’t really want to end the night yet but he can see the fatigue in your face.

You shake you head at him, “We can talk now. I don’t sleep very much.” You don’t look into his eyes as you speak which he finds odd. A detail he’s always noticed was the eye contact you gave. He couldn’t tell what you were searching but he appreciated it, not many people could look him in the eye.

Hes suddenly reminded of a conversation you had awhile ago. When you had bluntly asked him your father was dead. He had expected you to say nothing for that entire ride. But you didn’t. He remembers your question.

“Do your nightmares ever stay with you longer that you would like?”

He had answered honestly. The nightmares often lingered around him for days sometimes weeks. It wasn’t often he got a good nights sleep. He could see the sleep in your eyes wanting to take over. You were fighting it though quite easily like you’ve done it before. He didn’t want to be overstepping any line and he also didn’t want to seem creepy remembering a conversation, a small detail from weeks ago. He wasn’t sure at all how you’d react to it. So he decided to say nothing, wait for you to take the lead. Which you did, mostly because your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own sometimes.

“You get nightmares too Mr. Shelby, I remember you agreeing with me this one time…”You trail off slurring your word, “Sometimes they can be so much…”

“What do you dream about?” He asks.

You don’t answer. Thomas doesn’t pressure you for answer, you look to be searching for one. Your mouth open and eyes wandering around the room. But you give no answer.

Thomas decides to speak, lighting a cigarette as he does, “I dream about France sometimes.” The answer surprise him. Hes not one for opening up.

You don’t say anything so he continues, “I can hear the shovels at night. That’s when their the loudest.” He blows the smoke as he talks.

“I sometimes dream of the hospital…they didn’t exactly treat me great there. Sometimes its my father…” You say the word ‘father’ quietly as if it was like a little curse falling off your lips.

Thomas wants to ask you what that man had done to you, why it seemed you feared and hated him so much. He wished he asked you in that first meeting with you. When he promised to kill him for you…..he knew then it was something you wanted, he didn’t know how badly…maybe if he had known he would have done things differently.

“Sometime he’s not even doing anything…he’s just watching me. And smiling,” You say pulling him away from his thoughts, “It takes a moment for me to realize he’s not there. He’s not watching.” You stop talking suddenly, certainly not meaning to get that honest.

Thomas clenches his jaw, “well it’s a good thing hes not around anymore.”

You look up at him for the first time the whole night, meeting his eyes. Your stare sends shivers up his arms.

“Right…” you trail off, looking uncertain. “Mr Shelby I-“

“You know,” He cuts you off wanting to change the subject, “I don’t think this is very business like.”

“Excuse me.” You blink confused with the sudden statement.

“I mean you won’t’ call me by my name because this is business but here you are at my place, drunk, talking to me about stuff that not business.”

You scoff at him. “Are you really that bothered by it?” you tease

“I just think in settings like this, you can let go a little bit.”

“I think you should get used to disappointment, Mr.Shelby.” You emphasize his name a bit.

“You must admit that we aren’t doing anything related to business.”

“Then what would you call it?” You challenge.

And he didn’t know what to call it. But he just felt more. Maybe it was friendship. He definitely enjoyed your company. He wasn’t afraid to admit that to himself. Hes reminded of the feelings of when you got hurt at the horse auction and went missing those three days. He didn’t want to admit that there was apart of him that cared for you. That part has been locked away ever since Grace. He had trusted her and loved her. And then she betrayed him. And there was just a part of him that just didn’t want to go through that again.

“Are you okay,” you ask, “you went quiet for a minute.”

“ Yea just thinking.”

“Do you wanna keep talking?” you say shyly.

And he couldn’t say no to you. That night the two of you spend you time just talking. It’s the first time Tommy’s ever done something like that. Take a woman home and not bed her. He wasn’t thinking about doing that with you but it had dawned on him later that small fact. You listened to his stories about his family. You were an only child and had no stories nearly s fun as his. You tell him you wish you grew up in a big family. You list all the places you wanted to travel to and he watches you ramble about them. The two of you laugh and smile. Both feeling lighter in each others presence. He can see you loosening up a bit and he just wonders what your like when you aren’t fully on guard. He can fee himself doing the same. He doesn’t mind but he knews that hes going to berate himself later. Hours pass and You both fall asleep on the couch, neither of you remembering what the other was talking about as you do. It was the first time in a long time that either of you had fallen asleep peacefully.

You wake up first, feeling an awful pudding within your head. Why was it that you never could know your limit. You attempt to get up when you sense an arm around you. A unwelcomed flutter of butterflies erupt in your stomach as you realize who the arm belongs to.

‘Fuck’ you think to yourself trying to untangle yourself from his arm, trying to understand how you even got roped up in him.

Successfully you manage to unwrap your self from him, the warmth of his body leaving your side making you feel cold. You’re tempted to roll back but think against it. You stretch up from the couch and walk around the apartment quietly. It wasn’t very big. The living room connected to the kitchen. And his room connected to the bathroom. You wonder around trying to wake your creaky bones. You see a bundle of letters on his, dresser with very neat and lovely writing, addressed to him. You see a pipe beside his bed and pick it up wondering if he used this on himself last night. You walk backwards trying to take it all in. He didnt have much. A few pictures of him and his siblings. And that woman from before. The older one who gave you chills with her stare. Pol-polly you think her name was. You continue walking backward before bumping into his dresser. The letters falling down. You bend down picking them up not without looking more closely at the beautiful stationary. You see at corner of the envelope

From Grace

For a minute you’re really disappointed. And you don’t know why. And then the pieces fall together. When you remember Mr.shelbys horses name, “Graces secret,” And when Ada told you ‘he had someone last year.” You don’t know why you feel uncomfortable all of a sudden. You don’t feel right hanging around his apartment. Unless their not together? Wait why do you even care? You neatly stack the envelopes back to their place and calmly walk away, needing to distract yourself from the sudden intrusion of thoughts you would very much like to get rid of.

You pass by Thomas sleeping body. You pause to look at him. Admiring the way his feature seem to soften up as he slept. You almost compare him to an angel. A knock on the door alerts you as you sit up straight. Thomas shoots up in a panic. He looks at you confused before getting up.

“How long have you been up?” he asks you, heading for the door.

You don’t answer. Watching him go to get the door. A small boy is behind the door, you cant hear what either of them say as they talk in hushed voices.

“(y/n),,” he calls you over, “my brother finn here is gonna lead you to the garrison I have a meeting I have to attend to.” He says not leaving you any room to argue to deny his request as he grabs his jacket and locks the door before the two of you.

“Ill be back soon, try not to run into trouble.” He says.

You nod and go your separate ways, following the young boy through the streets of Birmingham.

Read pt.11

Tags

@babylooneytoonz @captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034 @ms-dont-care @owenniasstars

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #Fanfic #saved by the devil fic

46 notes · View notes

tsukki-rising · 3 years

Text

might as well

Pairing: Lev Haiba x Gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You meet Lev's older sister at nationals and she assumes that you are dating her brother, you clear things up and tell her that you're not but now that you think about it...it does sound nice.

Word Count: 1.9k

You'd been in the same class as Lev since first year but you were only properly introduced to him when you became manager of Nekoma's volleyball club. He's always been a big goof and while the team liked to pick on him for it, you always found it impossibly adorable and endearing. You were like a parental figure for the team, helping them with injuries, giving advice, and (of course) breaking up fights. If you had to pick a favorite child though, it would be Lev. He's always appreciated you as well, you often being the only one to take his side in disagreements with the team and calming Yaku down when he'd be a little too harsh on his underclassmen. He actually tended to talk with you most out of everyone on the team. You did share a class and you were the manager so it makes sense but his teammates loved to tease him about it nonetheless, dissing his flirting game, throwing balls at his head in the middle of a conversation between the two of you, and Kenma's favorite, glaring until the tall boy notices and then making a snarky insult. These were just typical antics that went on at practice until later in the season when the boys got a little bit more serious about getting to nationals.

And get to nationals they did. You couldn't be more proud of your boys, indulging yourself in the celebrations after every winning game.

When they started competing in the big stadiums you didn't want to be a distraction to the boys (or let them see how nervous you got about the games) so instead of sitting on the bench, you opted to sit in the stands with the family of the team and other students from Nekoma. It was fun to meet Yamamoto's sweet younger sister and Lev's intimidatingly gorgeous older sister. You'll never forget that meeting or what it led to.

You wiggled your way through the crowded stairs to get to the front row and see two women talking to each other about the game, seeming to be a little confused about the scoring system. You politely insert yourself in the conversation to clarify their understanding of how the game goes, answering all of their follow up questions as well.

"Thank you so much. What's your name?" The tall silver-haired woman asks, you have a feeling of who she might be related to on the team.

"I'm Y/n, the volleyball club's manager.", you offered them both a nod, "I assume you both are family of players", you add, glancing to said players down below on the court.

"Well I'm Alisa Haiba, Lev's older sister!", she introduces herself with a smile before letting the brown-haired girl talk, Yamamoto's sister, Akane.

Alisa excitedly turns back to you, looking more interested than she had when you spoke of volleyball. "You must be my Lev's little s/o!"

Your eyes go wide with your shock as she goes on.

"Oh I should have known just from seeing you, you're just how he described.", she looks over your frozen frame, "I have to say, I was worried when he joined volleyball, I thought he become one of those meat head jocks but since you became his manager-and more I suppose- he is just like a lovesick little puppy.". Finally she senses the confusion coming off of you, assuming you want to talk she asks "And how is my Lev behaving at school and in club? No trouble is he?"

"..."s/o"?" you slowly ask. And now she mirrors your deep confusion.

"Are you...not Lev's s/o?", she looks down to him on the court like she wants to ask him herself.

"Um, no. I'm just the manager. I am closer with him than the other team members but we're just friends, we share a class too so" You list out the extent of your connection with him, she probably just assumed you were dating because of how much time the two of you spend together.

Her perfectly groomed brows draw close together "But...When he talks about you-", then, seemingly in an attempt not to embarrass him by bringing up their private conversations, she cuts herself off with a laugh, "I guess I misunderstood." She gives an apologetic smile.

"It's no problem." You finish just in time for a whistle to blow, rounding up the team from practice for the game to start, the stands quieting. You can't help but watch one player in specific as he jogs over to the bench, hunching down to reach the others in the huddle as they talk.

You think back on all the time you'd spent with him, handing him his water and towel at practices, eating barbeque with him at the training camp, all the times you'd sat next to him on the bus rides to and from games. You realized just how much time you spent around him, and how you always gravitated towards him. You realized how many times he's made you smile with his cheesy jokes, his cute little pouts when Yaku would work him out, and his too pretty face when he tries to memorize volleyball terms from Kenma.

It was almost like you were already dating. You would miss him if you started to see him less. You definitely wouldn't mind spending even more time with him, being even closer to him.

Shit.

You might be just a little bit maybe in love with him.

Your eyes are glued to him and as he jogs onto the court and he looks to the crowd for you too, smiling and waving when he finds you. You smile back and give a thumbs up, Alisa eying you from the side. One of the other boys on the team yells at him to get his attention on the game and he flinches, nodding before turning back to give you one last sheepish grin before focusing. Your heart melts at that smile. You are very much in love with him.

Throughout the game you carry this, heavy on your mind as you try to maintain an observant eye on the match. You feel a little bad, you cheer for every point but you can't help but get the most excited for Lev's points. He just looks so happy every time, you just want to give him all the praise he seeks for but never finds from his other teammates. Your feelings are overwhelming you and your heart stutters a little when he looks up to the crowd to give you another smile or wave.

As soon as the game ends you celebrate briefly with the team members' sisters who you sat next to and hurry down to the court. You get in with your pass and rush to hand out water bottles and towels, somewhat avoiding Lev because you just don't know what you'll do when you see him so close again having realized the intensity of your feelings.

"Hey, Y/n!" You can hear the smile in his voice and even through your fear you can't help but smile even brighter at hearing it. When you turn to him you feel like a cartoon character with starry eyes, frozen in awe. He was crouching down a little so his face was closer to yours as he kept smiling at you. The proximity isn't the closest you'd been to the boy but this time it made your heart flutter like it never had before.

"Hey." You sound sort of out of breath yourself though he is the one who's just finished a grueling game of volleyball.

"Did you see my spikes? I had them totally shocked! I know you were impressed, I saw you in the stands." He beams, knowing you'll agree with him and compliment his performance further. The team starts to walk off the court to the surrounding area, seeking out the Karasuno and Inarizaki match to watch. The two of follow.

"Yeah." You giggle like a schoolchild. "I met your sister." You nervously blurted out the first thing you could think of.

"Oh yeah I saw her too." He seems a little confused that you brought it up, then nervous. "Oh. Did she uh- Did she say anything?" He tries to act nonchalant but he isn't fooling anybody.

You break out into nervous laughter, "She actually thought I was your s/o." You discreetly keep your eyes on him to gauge his reaction.

He chokes on the water he was drinking and sputters a little bit of it out into his towel. He's turning red but its hard to tell if its because of embarrassment or respiratory distress.

"I-" he coughs again, "I wonder what made her think that." He's not looking at you as the two of you walk, eyes wandering in every other possible direction.

You figure that by pressing just a little further you can always brush it off as teasing if he really doesn't want to talk about it. "I believe she said something about the way you talk about me." You try not to sound too interested in the topic. "And she said I looked just how you described."

"Oh- It's...She probably just thought- since we're friends you know, she probably thought so just cause we're friends. I mean, we are just friends." Maybe you were imagining it to make yourself happy but he sounded a little sad.

"..."just"?" You repeat, looking to him with hopeful doe eyes.

"Well not "just" I mean we are good friends, at least, I think so. It's just we're not CLOSE close like Alisa thought but I do LIKE being friends with you its just- I meant-" He's nervously rambling but you cut it off, not able to hold it in anymore.

"I don't want to be "just"...friends." You stop walking to make him look you in the eye.

He panics a bit, "No I swear I didn't mean it as an insult! I-" Usually you find his moments of idiocy to be cute and charming but right now you just need your feelings to be known.

"Lev, I don't want to be "just" friends because...", you step closer to him and hold his large hands in yours, "because I want to be more."

He's frozen. Eyes focused on you and mouth open like he wants to speak but has forgotten all the words. You don't let yourself back down.

"Your sister, she said that and I realized how nice it sounded. I love being with you Lev, you make me so happy", you look off, trying to find the right words to describe the feeling, "and I don't know how I didn't realize it sooner, I- you just- you're so-", he withdraws his hands from your hold. You look up, thinking he got upset but he's wearing a wide shaky smile and his eyes appear the slightest bit glassy. He hooks his long arms under yours to hug you and he picks you up, grasping you close, laughing that sweet laugh. You laugh too. Laugh out of relief that he doesn't hate you for liking him, and because the two of you must look so absurd right now to passers by. You hug him back before he sets you down to verbally respond.

"We can be more."

#Lev Haiba #lev haiba x y/n #lev haiba x reader #lev haiba fluff #haikyuu!! x reader

49 notes · View notes

allexteriordark · 3 years

Note

Can I just ask why you're so interested in the john/dean dynamic? I just never found it interesting, John wasn't in the show enough for me to grow an interest, so I'd like to hear it from your pov :)

@ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty let me start off by saying i cannot possibly explain or phrase this in a way that's better than what others have said.... refer to nikki fearlastyear and bug familyhorror for real 🥴 but i get that you're asking why i'm like this so

i'm gonna put a read more since i'm incapable of being succint. i just rambled on and you'll have to take it because that was enough time spent on this. and like, i might not be satisfied, might not feel like i conveyed what i wanted to, but i don't feel like i can pull anything better out of myself lol and that's okay

and the answer, the relationship i have with my dad is certainly something and i'm projecting 💗 no but the key to dean and john is that a lot of it is off-screen. we're told about the night azazel paid a friendly little visit, about john being a vietnam vet, an ex-marine who just wanted to settle down, about sam and dean's childhood, about dean's problems with identity and self-worth. the show tells us a lot of things about them, just not outright. a lot can be deduced imo!!

the appeal is this: dean was devoted to his father, served him as well as he could, idolized him, despite john being absent and despite how he treated his sons. like,, john was his god. (i don't see this kind of intense devotion often in media when it comes to fathers - or it doesn't do it for me?? why i latched onto them probably has something to do with john's character. anyway,)

i feel like i was shown enough of john to... find him interesting enough to make me think about him and how he raised his boys? from very early on, john was dean's hero. as @familyhorror said, the night mary died intertwined their lives, not just because trauma, but because from that point on they were sharing this mission: protect sam, avenge mary and the sanctity of family.... i'm interested in dean's space in this family, in this unit, when the three of them were together (especially with me having a shitty family like i had to raise my sister and protect her from my parents sometimes. relatability points!!)

i wonder how dean and john operated when sam, the disobedient son, the one who didn't put family first, left them. that was a shared pain, shared betrayal to an extent. and from when sam left to when john went missing, it was just the two of them. that's all dean and john had 🥴 i'm probably definitely underestimating how many friends and acquaintances john had (pastor jim was definitely in the picture from early on..) but the stanford years couldn't be insignificant!! their relationship must have intensified. so they were sergeant and soldier, but also john, broken man on a revenge mission, and dean, his only true companion and provider of comfort.... tugging at john's coat when he was sad (above the clouds of pompeii by bear's den is actually about them just so everyone knows) and telling his dad it'll be okay after he came home from a hunt. dean did that, when he was small o_o i doubt he stopped wanting to care for his dad

sam wasn't elevated to the level in the family dean was elevated to. because dean's the oldest. the parent's supposed to provide the comfort, children can't possibly make good friends for their parents, no matter how much the parent needs a supporter. "i put too much on your shoulders, i made you grow up too fast. you took care of sammy, you took care of me" !!! dean turned into his dad's partner, in a way, because john needed one. total coincidence that my mom also thinks i can care for her like a friend and forgets that i'm her daughter ahaha <3

with mary dead, someone also needed to do the tasks traditionally assigned to like, the mom. i just doubt john always did the laundry and cleaned up when there was a mess and acted as a health care provider and did the dishes, it makes more sense to me that he passed most of the khmm ""duties of a mother"" off to dean... i mean. john definitely didn't do a lot for the comfort of his boys, in the name of nurturing them.... but dean had a baby brother, he had to make things better for his brother, i feel like when john left a spot empty, when something wasn't done, he stepped in. sometimes. this doesn't mean dean was a good wife replacement or that he was the only one who cooked or anything like that lol i'm just saying that dean definitely took on more responsibility than a kid's supposed to and his relationship with his father existed mostly so john's needs would be met. he wasn't just a son to john, that's what i think of them

also once sam left i think john could just, pull dean even deeper, have him be more obedient, on the same page as john - i'm doing this for your perfect angel of a mother and for family and for sammy, i'm doing this to you for your own good, because the world is a dark place and i love you so much. and isn't it interesting, dean thinking the abuse is justified? that john was right to leave them to go on hunts and to move them from motel to motel, eradicating any chance of connection they could've had outside of family and any chance of feeling like they have a home? and of feeling safe.. that's another thing: when dean's a kid all he knows is something killed his mom, there's monsters out there, but dad's gonna make it better :) of course he clung to a perfect image of his father and he stayed with john and modeled himself after his dad. (of course that's interesting to me)

dean loved like his father, learned love from him, because he learned everything else from him too actually, and he became his father. isn't that level of devotion insane. i don't just mean the music, the jacket, the car, or the lifestyle, or the alcoholism and violence later on, i mean more like, the very foundations of who dean is. his morals, his being is based on john. so his entire life his father never left him :) there's something religious about this, and also something that reminds me of platonism: john being the idea of absolute good and true, that dean wants to take inside himself,,, as much of john as possible. he could never be good and heroic enough though (the american hero he was trying to measure up to is like. not real ofc). dean sold his soul for sam, even though that's what john did for him and it was a terrible burden, to be saved, through sacrifice, but he couldn't help it :) and he comes back from hell and is told that his father lasted longer, could withstand more, he'll never be the hero john was.

so, the abuse was passed on (dean violating sam's autonomy because he can't live without sam, and, other stuff like that. i couldn't list everything dean did that was fucked up <3) and the selling your soul for your family, for your kid, was passed on!! horrific, turning into your parent and fucking someone up the same way they fucked you up. i'm very compelled by the winchester family and what they do to each other, because, that's family, to me at least, it's horrendous and the only thing that matters :/

and this is the part where i talk about my dad 🤪 so get this: i fucking hate him. i despise him, i want him dead, the intensity of it scares me. he turns me into something ugly! i can't forgive him and there's really nothing to salvage here, in what i have with him, and i've thought about it a lot. for a while i thought, okay, then i just let him go, see, it's done, i don't care about him, no more pain!! he's nothing to me he can't hurt me! but then turns out that i can't do that, because now that he's dead to me, i have to mourn him. i can't let go, family doesn't work like that! haha silly me!

so i miss the father i never had, and will never have, so much. it's worse that i have no connection to him, in a way, than if it was a love-hate thing. i think it makes sense that i'd latch onto dean winchester's intense connection to his father. i'm envious as fuck :)) <3

i hope you got a bit of a look into what compels me about dean and john. if you have any questions though, if something wasn't clear, i'm happy to explain anything!!

#someone could totally be compelled by dean n john if they had a similar relationship with their dad #or if they took up the same place in their family as dean did. eldest sisters calling themselves dean-coded and stuff #that's not me though 🥴#dean & john #rambles #ask

7 notes · View notes

embrassemoi · 3 years

Note

(1/8) *inhales* *starts screaming like a howler* IT'S HAPPENING OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING! Honestly, you have no idea after how many times I checked tumblr after your sbtmas update post. I don't even know where to begin. Probably I should start with moony, right! When he took her flying and asked her to let go of her hands, it kind of reminded me of *that* scene from titanic but with stars and actual flying (sorry jack dawson but remus lupin is and always will be superior). It was just so, so

*inhales too and starts screaming back* HOLY - IT'S HAPPENING! AHHHHHH! REMUSSSSS! AHHHHHHHH - KEEP CALM !!!!!

Ah! now that you mention it, it also reminds me of that 'I'm flying' from titanic!

(2/8) beautiful. I cannot even begin listing everything I loved about that scene or else I would have to copy and paste the entire thing here. "But now, watching her glow, it dawned on Remus that he was holding the golden beam that threatened to paint the midnight sky gold." I mean- I probably read this three times because *screaming* HE'S IN LOVE, YOUR HONOR!!! Also I love, love, love the sun, moon and stars being used to represent mc, remus and sirius. It's kind of interesting sun is actually

I WANT YOU TO KNOW I WAS 100% SCREAMING WHILE WRITING THAT ENTIRE SCENE LMFAO! I'm glad you liked it! It was definitely *so far* one of my favourite scenes to write

(3/8) a star so they are similar and belong together, but also the moon and sun are kind of opposites and opposites attract and complete each other. So both sirius and remus are good matches for her but have very diffrent dynamics... I don't know, I am probably overthinking again. But I just don't know who to ship her with at this point. And I don't think you are going to fast with their relationship, their relationship progressed so naturally and beautifully, especially since the beginning

Well when I was in the planning stages of figuring out what I wanted to really add in this fic, one of the first things that came to mind was taking advantage of the moon and star metaphors. it makes things so much more romantic / angsty and plus - they're there. what am I supposed to do - not use the absolute gold I have at my finger tips? (see what I did there)

and no! I always encourage predictions being made. some of my readers have been scarily accurate and it scares the fuck outta me but they're hilarious to read! Like I had one clever reader send in a prediction of what was going to happen and my jaw dropped. Spot on!

also for the MC and remus' relationship progressing - I had to cut out so m u c h because it really was too rushed. But don't worry, it'll be moved to other upcoming chapters!

(4/8) of the sixth year. Okay, I know this chapter was remus' time to shine but can we talk about sirius for a minute? The way he looked at with so much vulnerability in front of everyone. Couple of chapters ago he didn't even cast a spell at her during their duel and bowed in front of her. Considering how romantic feelings are foreign to him, it's crazy to see how much he grown to care for her in a short amount of time. I can't help but love their chemisty, even after everything that happend.

SIRIUS! darling... I feel awful. I can't wait to write his POV of how he's feeling sometime in the near future.

yeah, I was also trying to go for the intense guilt he feels about everything so :p I love torturing characters, don’t I?

(5/8) And there were so many little things in this chapter that made me so happy. McLaggen already started causing drama and I'm so here for it. Sybill celebrating her birthday. Matthew being the best friend ever (When gaplin family owl arrived, i though something happend to him and I was terrified). Lily finally talking to mc again! Regulus' extravagant gift! But being dramatic must be a Black family thing. I can't belive he got her a ring that practically screams "the noble and most ancient

McLaggen - stirring the pot. sly mother fucker haha!

Matthew made a little cameo! I love writing him :D!!!! I have a few things in store for his arch and ughhhh ahahahahah. and omg! no! If I was going to hurt Matthew, I wouldn't do It this early. (That sounds like a threat haha)

(6/8) house of black" while hiding their friendship. Somebody bound to connect the dots (sirius maybe?), right? And he's with his parents for "an event"? Very suspicious. P.S. Bc I'm not creative with names (like remus' parents) I was calling the bunny furry little problem the second or moony jr. in my head. And as for name... flopsy could be cute. I know it's very stereotypical but there was a children's book called "the tale of flopsy bunnies" and I feel like remus might have been familiar

Lmfao fucking Regulus - or really the black family - always one for the dramatic. I can't wait to *eventually* write more of dramatic ass Sirius.

I've also been referring to the bunny as 'furry little problem' in my head haha!

(7/8) with muggle children's books because of his mother and idk, naming a pet after a book character feels like something he would do. Also floppy and flops were some of the nicknames james used to call mc, so it could be cute (But owl bait is also a brilliant name as well). P.P.S. Can we talk about how after mc comes to his dorm for the "bunny time" (very cute btw) remus said something like "i feel like you're using me for my pet" and in one of the previous chapters mc told him he was using

- also I'm surprised you remember that part about James calling her 'Flops' ETC considering I only mentioned it briefly. Wow! And you're absolutely right, it would be such a cute call back to the MC!

I'm going to be running a 'poll' (idk if I should call it that) sometime within the next few days of a list of name suggestions I've gotten and let readers choose the name! and I'll totally add your suggestion to the list. love it!

(8/8) her for the casette player. I don't know if it was intentional but for some reason that made me laugh so hard. And seems like I talked way too much again thank you for this chapter and thank you for listening/reading my ramblings, I guess. *screaming stops* *howler rips itself into pieces* -🌸

It was intentional! I'm glad you caught on!

and thank you for rambling, as always I loved reading it! Made my week :D xx I wish you a wonderful day/evening 😊

#🌸 anon #sbtmas ask #📨 inbox

4 notes · View notes

padme-parker · 4 years

Text

Collide / Chapter 3

[a Star Wars x Avengers crossover]

Summary: You spend some quality time with Anakin, while also reminiscing about home.

Warnings: A few swear words, nothing else I can think of

Word Count: ~3.7k

A/N: this is a filler chapter, so it's all over the place. Bolded phrases are being spoken through the connection while Italicized phrases are your thoughts. !tags are open btw!

Song(s) of the chapter: Yellow by Coldplay, Mariposa by Peach Tree Rascals, and Fallingforyou by The 1975

read ch 2 here

“Look at the stars, look how they shine for you.” -Yellow by Coldplay

You were jolted awake by a loud noise, a speeder bolting past your window. It took you a second to recuperate and figure out where you were. Getting up and out of bed, you walked towards your closet changing into your jedi robes. Both of your undergarments and shirt had been white. Not a pearly white, but more like an ivory white, giving the clothes a slight worn look. The trousers they had given you was a light grey, the faintest hint of blue could be seen if you looked closely. But overall, your bottoms were more grey than blue. Throwing on the black robe, you made your way into the bathroom.

You were unsure what to do with your hair, should I leave it down? Tie it up? Give myself a padawan braid? Hold on, am I even a padawan? That was a question that the jedi council would be able to answer, but for now you were more focused on your hair. I guess I’ll tie my hair up. The jedi had been kind enough to supply you with some hair ties and a comb, along with a toothbrush and toothpaste. After tying your hair up, you grabbed your toothbrush and put a pea sized dollop of toothpaste onto it before brushing your teeth. You had just begun brushing your teeth when you were interrupted by a knock on your door. Left with no other choice than to open your door, you made your way over to it. Pushing the button, the door opened with a woosh.

“Good morning, Alyra. I trust that you slept alright?” Anakin’s eyes followed you as you made your way back to the bathroom, spitting out the toothpaste.

“Yes! The bed was more comfortable than I could ever imagine.” You might even have to smuggle one back home once you leave.

“Are you ready to leave for breakfast?” With a nod of your head, the two of you were off to the commons. The walk there was silent, but comfortable. The both of you appreciating the silence.

“Sorry, if the breakfast here isn’t as appealing as what you had at home. Everything here is bland and tasteless, just like some jedi” You let out a snicker.

“Yeah, well some food back at home isn’t that good either. I think I’ll be fine.” You reply, eyes scanning the food.

“I just hope you don’t have a weak stomach, for y’know, future missions.” After getting your food, you sit down at a barren table, Anakin taking his place next to you. Taking a look at the white, thick slop in your bowl, you decided to give it a taste. He watches as you put it in your mouth, your face scrunching up. You can hear Anakin laugh as you try to wash it down with your drink.

“Here, put some of this in it.” He hands you a light yellow liquid, it’s thick as you pour it out. You stir it around before trying it again. This time however, it has a slightly sweet taste to it.

“It’s certainly a lot better with the syrup, however I’ll probably get something else next time.” You say.

After finishing your meal, Anakin led you outside to the hangar where a two seat speeder was already warmed up and waiting for you. After jumping in and buckling up, Anakin sped off in the direction of the Market. You could feel the excitement pumping through your veins as your hair whipped around in every direction.

Quickly and effortlessly landing on the hangar, you watched as Anakin fiddled with the controls, shutting off the speeder.

“Welcome to CoCo town. Not exactly the lower levels, and not exactly the highest levels of Coruscant. Stay close to me, I don’t want you getting lost.” Walking forward, you were amazed by the buildings. The structures were very industrial-like, yet modern at the same time. Each having its own spunk and characteristics. Anakin directed you towards a small market.

“What do you need?” He asked, you listed off a few things as Anakin searched the aisles for them. Getting to the shampoo aisle, you grabbed a bottle off the shelf and took a sniff.

“As weird as it sounds, this scent reminds me of home.” The shampoo had smelt like strawberries, which was peculiar. You would have never guessed there was a similar smelling fruit on Coruscant, or any other planet for that matter. That must have been how Anakin smelt so similarly to strawberries and cinnamon. Or maybe it had been Padme’s scent that rubbed off on him.

“What’s your home like?” He pondered

“In a way, Coruscant is similar to my home. On Earth, you can find metropolitan areas with skyscrapers too. Except for the speeders, we don’t have the technology for that yet. Nor do I think we’re ready for it. People can’t even drive normally, there’d be chaos if we had flying cars all of a sudden. However, the one thing Coruscant lacks is greenery and nature. There’s an abundance of it at home. Quite frankly, I miss it. There’s no way I can explain my home without doing it justice. Just know that it’s beautiful. Maybe one day I can take you there, then you can decide if you think it’s pretty or not.” You continued to sniff all the shampoos, Anakin watched as you rambled, encaptured by your lips. After choosing your preferred scent, you put it in the basket that Anakin was carrying.

“Yes, hopefully one day I’ll be able to visit. I’ll be looking forward to it.” He commented, “What about your parents? They must be good people if they gave you a pretty name like Alyra.”

“Oh yeah… my parents are good people. I’m really glad they named me Alyra, and not some weird name like y/n…” You let out an awkward laugh, thinking about your family on Earth.

You had just recently joined the avengers, alongside Peter Parker. You were surprised at how young he was, but then again you were only 17, just two years older than him. What surprised you more was the fact that he was Spiderman. You couldn’t believe a mere 15 year old boy was swinging around Queens at night, saving people.

You were sat atop the Stark tower, watching the stars. It was something you found yourself doing often. Gazing, watching for something, someone. A sign of hope, that you weren’t alone. Ever since you were young, the stars and galaxies always amazed you. The prospect of other living beings amazed you. Who would’ve known that only 3 years later, you’d be standing in the very galaxy that you dreamed of.

You continued to gaze at the stars until you heard the soft landing of feet behind you. You didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Peter. He didn’t stay the night at the tower often, so you solemnly talked to him. But conversation came easily around the two of you.

“What’re you doing up and out so late at night, Y/N?” He asked

“I could ask you the same thing. But if you must know, I’m stargazing.” You turned to look at him as he removed his mask. He took a seat and joined you. Peter craned his head up, with his enhanced vision, he could easily see the stars. Although the light pollution still made it difficult for the both of you to see the universe in its full potential. It was quiet for a moment, before Peter broke the silence.

“Why?” His question was tentative, mysterious even.

“Why what?”

“Why do you like stargazing so much?” You were stumped, no one ever bothered to ask you this nor even care if you disappeared for hours. The one thing you had yet to get accustomed to was how much everyone in the tower cared. Before, you were transferred from foster home to foster home. Never really staying long enough to form special bonds with anyone.

“It… makes me calm, gives me tranquility. A sense of peace. It’s almost like everytime I look at the stars, I feel at home. Like I belong, and that I’m not alone.” You wanted to go on, but you didn’t know how to express your feelings. Peter let out a hum of agreement.

“Do you have a favorite constellation?” His tone was curious, as were his eyes.

You pulled out your phone, opening a night sky app. You searched for the constellation before showing it to him. “Look.” You handed your phone to him, careful to not change the positioning of your phone. Peter let out a quiet gasp of awe.

“The constellation is named Lyra. It contains the second brightest star in the northern hemisphere, Vega.” You continued to tell him about the constellation, it’s meaning of the name and back story. Soon this became a tradition for you and Peter. A couple of times a month, both of you gathered at the top of the Stark tower; accompanied by your blankets, snacks and drinks. Each time, you taught him about a new galaxy or constellation.

After the second month, Peter had started calling you Star, which the other members caught on to. Soon the Avengers and the public came to know you as Star. Bright and beautiful, yet dangerous and distant.

You let a smile creep onto your face as you thought of the memory. “When she was younger, my mother was enamored with the stars, and the universe in general. On Earth, there’s a constellation named Lyra. I’m not sure why she liked it, but she apparently liked it enough to name me after it.” You might’ve lied to him, but there was some truth in your lie.

You had finished shopping in a comfortable silence. Returning to the speeder, Anakin offered to carry the bags, which you gratefully accepted. As you approached the speeder, you were thrown off balance by a child running past you. You closed your eyes, anticipating to feel the hard ground at any second. However when the feeling didn’t come, you open your eyes in confusion. Only to find Anakin’s eyes peering into your own. His right arm firmly held your waist, you could feel his metal fingers through his glove. You watched his lips as he asked if you were alright, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him. You curtly nodded your head and he began to help you stand upright.

As the child’s mother reached you and Anakin, you could hear the apologies tumbling from her lips. You told her that it was alright. The mother's scolding could be heard as you walked towards the speeder, a comfortable silence filing the atmosphere once again.

This time, you decided to admire the architecture on the way back to the temple. The organized traffic still astonished you. Speeders whizzed past you, making your hair fly. From here, you could see the Jedi Temple in the temple district. The temple stuck out from the others, but wasn’t comparable to the skyscrapers you were passing. You’ve never experienced such beauty like Coruscant, you couldn’t wait to explore more of it. Perhaps even visit the senate building.

After arriving at the hangar, Anakin docked the speeder, making sure to turn it off before helping you out.

“I have to go, maybe I’ll see you for dinner?” Your question was timid. You’d only know Anakin for a couple of days, but it felt like years.

“Yes, I’ll make sure to invite Obi-wan.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” You gave him a wave before walking away. You felt your cheeks heat up as a smile grazed your lips. You still couldn’t believe you were hanging out with THE Anakin Skywalker.

You knew you shouldn’t have felt the butterflies in your stomach.

Or the tingles when he touched your hand.

Nor the rush you felt when you were around him.

This isn’t right, you thought to yourself. He’s married to Padme for crying out loud, expecting twins. But you couldn’t help yourself, before you knew it, you were falling hard. And you didn’t know why.

After putting away your belongings, you began to aimlessly wander the halls looking for Master Yoda and Master Windu. You had questions, and they had the answers.

“Master Yoda, Master Windu! May I speak to you in private?” You caught the two just as they exited the council chamber.

“Questions you have.” Master Yoda said.

“Yes, and I’m hoping you can answer them.”

“Come. Discuss inside, we will.” You followed the two into the council room, standing in the middle as they sat down.

“I would like some clarification. I know I am training in the ways of the Jedi, but will I become a Padawan? Or will my learning only pertain to physical training?” You queried.

“Padawan, you are not. Jedi, you are not. A learner, simply you are. Teach you the ways of the force, we will. Train you, we will.” At least the Jedi code didn’t apply to you. But considering the fact that all of your peers are Jedi, it was going to be hard.

“The way I see it, there is just no reason for you to fully train in the ways of the Jedi. After you have completed your mission, you will return back to your home planet. As you said, we also don’t have the time to completely train you, so you will only be taught fundamental information and techniques.” Master Windu said.

“What about…. lightsabers? Can I make one?” You raised one eyebrow. The question was ludicrous, but you just had to ask them.

“Yes you can, how else are you going to complete your mission on Titan?” Oh right, you completely forgot about that.

“Yes of course, how silly of me to forget. What about missions?”

“Missions won’t be a necessity, however we will send you on a few to accompany Obi-wan and Anakin. It’s vital that you work together as a team.” You let out a nod. “If that is all Miss. Alyra, you may leave. I need to discuss something with Master Yoda.” You quickly left the room, not wanting to get caught up in their business.

The two Jedi Masters waited for the doors to fully close before resuming their conversation.

You awake from you nap disoriented, the loud knocking on your door was incessant. You throw on your black robe before opening it, “Are you ready?” You nod and Anakin takes the lead. Instead of taking you to the cantina, he takes you to the hangar.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“It’s a surprise.” He replied. “We will be meeting Obi-wan there.”

You got into the speeder, it was the same one from earlier in the day. He went as fast as he could, you drifted into a daydream. Yo you wanna see some real speed bitch? I’ll show you some real speed. You let out a giggle thinking about the tiktok, Anakin turns to you, “what’s so funny?”

“Umm.. nothing. If I tried to explain it, you wouldn’t understand.” You replied. He lets out a hum, before turning his gaze back to the traffic.

After landing, you find yourself in front of Dex’s Diner. Once you entered, the two of you looked for Obi-wan, until Anakin spotted him and led you over.

“Alyra, nice to see you again.” Obi-wan says as you take your seat, flashing him a brief smile.

“Have you ordered yet?” The strawberry blonde shakes his head, “No, Anakin. I was waiting for you.” He hands you a menu, hoping to find something you remotely recognized. It isn’t long before a female droid comes to take the tables order, Obi-wan and Anakin go first, giving you more time to decide. The droid finally looks at you, awaiting your response. “I’ll have a nerf burger and a photon fizzle please.” She nods her head, taking your order before taking the menus and giving the orders to Dex.

“You know, you never told me how you know Anakin.” Shit, well he can’t know about the real plan nor my slightly edited plan. What the hell do I tell him? Wait- can they hear my thoughts? I really hope they can’t.

“Before I came here… I was told the name and description of someone I should befriend within the Jedi temple. That he’d help me accomplish my mission, and of course that person was Anakin.” You said.

Why did you lie to him? Anakin’s voice reverberates in your nearly quiet mind.

Anakin, there is obviously a connection between us. I don’t know why. But don’t you think that if we told him about it, that he would tell the Council? We both know that attachments aren’t allowed.

First off, how do you know that? Second, I never said anything about forming an attachment with you. You roll your eyes.

George Lucas told me.

Of course.

The connection ended briefly as food was set down on the table. Wow, that was fast. The conversation continues as you eat your food. The burger really reminded you of a cheeseburger back at home, while the photon fizzle reminded you of boba tea. Except it was a fizzy liquid, instead of your usually milky black tea.

“Tomorrow, you start your training. We are going to assess your skills, along with weaknesses to try to strengthen them.” Obi-wan says. You give him a nod and return to your food.

Not much of a talker are you? His voice is raspy, sending tingles down your body.

Nope, I’m more of an observer.

Anakin pushes you to the ground, straddling your waist as you struggle to catch your breath. He holds the end of a wooden staff against your neck. “Again.” Obi-wan calls as he observes the two of you. Today was your first day of training, safe to say that it wasn’t going well.

I swear, I’m a good fighter. This time, it was you who initiated the conversation.

Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me. Flirting. He was totally flirting.

Fine. But don’t cry when I kick your ass.

This time, you're more focused. You watch Anakin’s moves, anticipating his strike. He charges, his staff clutched tightly as he runs towards you. Using the force, you call upon your staff, the very same one that Anakin had knocked out of your grasp earlier. Just as he’s about to strike, you block it, the clap of the two sticks meeting echoes. You back up, making yourself vulnerable to another attack.

Anakin charges again, you step to the side while simultaneously swinging your staff, jabbing it into his ribs. Since you didn’t have a lightsaber yet, it was only fair that they trained you with a weapon similar to it. The staff was heavy and dense, but it felt weightless in your hands. The two of you continue to duel until he knocks the staff out of your hands again. Frustrated you punch him in the ribs, precisely the spot you had hit earlier. He doubles over, grasping his waist. You waste no time in jumping up, one of your legs wrapped around his neck while the other was wrapped around his upper body. Using your weight, you force the two of you to the ground, his arm between your legs, locked into place by your arms.

If I were you, I’d tap out.

No way, sweetheart. Oh yeah, he’s definitely flirting now.

He tries to release himself from your grasp, but your grip only tightens until he can no longer move.

What’d I say? There’s a smirk on your lips as you see his free hand tap on the floor, signalling that the match was over.

“Good, Alyra. However we’re going to need to work more on skills regarding lightsabers and usage of the force. Your physical combat skills are superb. I think that’s all the training we’ll be doing today. I think you’ve bruised not only Anakin’s ribs, but also his ego.” Obi-wan says, a chuckle leaving his mouth. Anakin rolls his eyes, muttering “Oh shut up.”

Obi-wan goes to leave as Anakin and you stay behind to clean the training room.

“You know, you’re a pretty good fighter. Where’d you learn?” He asks

“Oh….um thanks. Just like this galaxy, my planet needs protection from corrupt individuals too. We try to be peacekeepers, but I think you know peace isn’t always an option.” You take a second to pause, putting the staff back in it’s correct place. “The woman who trains me, she’s extraordinary. Well technically I have two extraordinary women training me. One in physical combat and the other to help with my telekinetic powers. Or what you guys call the force. I’ve been training for a couple of years now, whereas other members of my team have been training for longer.” You explain to him.

“It must be hard, being here. You don’t really know anybody here, you don’t have any family with you. You’ve got the burden of the universe resting on your shoulders.” He says.

It must be hard for you too, Anakin. You’ve got the burden of bringing balance to the force resting on your shoulders.

“Yeah, well…. sacrifices have to be made sometime in order to save the greater population. I’m sure you know that.” You look around the room once more before deciding to leave. “See you later, Anakin.”

“See you tomorrow, Alyra.” He responds.

As you return to your quarters, you can’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach. Earlier you were energized, ready for a fight. Even now, you still feel some sparks of it flowing through you. However, the bad was outweighing the good. You couldn’t help but feel guilty yet also saddened. Anakin’s future was going to be a dark and rough one, you knew it to be true. He’s going to be put through so much pain and anguish, all because of stupid Palpatine and his stupid plans. Many people were going to perish if you didn’t try to at least help him.

Entering your quarters, there was only one thought going through your mind.

“Your destiny can change, just as quickly as the love in one’s heart can fade. Nothing is set in stone.”

#anakin #anakin sykwalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker series #obi wan kenobi #Avengers #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars x avengers

67 notes · View notes

ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Note

roommates AU!! Maybe one where young Tony has had a string of awful roommates (ie. they bully him for his age, etc.). The housing office transfers him one last time and tells him to give it a week. If this one still doesn't work out, then they'll let him room alone. At first, Tony just wants the week to be over, but of course his new roommate is the sweet Peter Parker. Cue pining!Tony, oblivious!Peter and a fluffy resolution... Just my rambles, but always excited to see what you come up with!

do the thing - send in all the prompts.

Nonnie, this was a lovely prompt - thank you so much for the idea! I aged Tony up a little bit to make sure there wasn’t anything underage, but I hope I hit all the things you were looking for!

Tony always figured flying through school would be a breeze. And for the most part – it was. The class material turned out to be easier than even he anticipated; he could’ve easily gotten through high school with his eyes closed. At 16, the concept of winning was the only thing that registered to him – what he was winning, he didn’t really know; but beating out his peers around him always made him feel just a bit better about how ridiculously brainy he really was.

Of course, the social aspect of school wasn’t nearly as easy. Most people didn’t understand what it was like to be the son of Howard Stark – Tony knew the inside of a lab before the age of 4 and attended dinners with some of the world’s figure heads on a consistent basis. As one of the youngest people in the entire room always, Tony struggled to fit in. Being smart wasn’t the piece of school that people admired, especially when the age gap was already so substantial. To say he was picked on was putting it mildly.

He assumed getting to college would end all of the bullying that came pre-packaged in the high school experience. Why would people in the pursuit of a degree in higher education care how old anyone was? The shocking reality of how wrong he was came when his very first roommate locked him out of the dorm for a full 48-hours. Tony didn’t like to throw around the weight of his name, but he hadn’t showered and needed textbooks to get to some of his classes. Needless to say, his roommate did not remain in the room for much longer.

Tony’s next roommate at least lasted for the rest of the year – he was an asshole at all points in time, but he didn’t lock him out of the room or touch his shit. There wasn’t enough of a connection to ask him back as a roommate – so Tony put his name back on the list for a roommate and went about his summer vacation.

Coming back from Italy, Tony was refreshed and more than ready to get through the next year as quickly as possible. He’d turned 17 over the summer and was one step closer to being on the cusp of independence. Then, people couldn’t judge him for his age. Tony walked into the year with a positive attitude – that was quickly bat down by the homophobic bigot they stuck him with. Tony still didn’t like the way faggot sat on the surface of his skin.

The struggle to keep a roommate brought him in front of housing for what felt like the hundredth time – all he wanted was some peace to get through school and maybe enjoy some of it. The notoriety of the university kept the supply of single rooms scarce, but he figured if push really came to shove, he could find a way to get one for himself. Cindy, who’d been dealing with him since his first gem of a roommate screwed the pooch, looked at him with a mixture of pity and concern. “I need you to give it a go one more time, for at least a week. There aren’t any singles available and I’m certain that this person will be suitable for you. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do if all else fails.”

A barely concealed scoff left his mouth, but he nodded, anyway. After the stream of lectures he got from his father when the initial trouble started, Tony was determined to settle the situation by his own means, even if that meant trying to stomach one more person for 7 days. All of his other roommates proved how terrible they were right from the get-go, so he figured he could make it – the other side held the key to his single and a little bit of peace from the boring monotony of societal norms.

A couple of days later, a knock on the door drew Tony from the book in front of him – he’d been balls deep in the chapter on electrical energy conversion. Standing up from his seated position, Tony realized how long he’d been sitting when his feet felt a little numb. The break was obviously needed.

Pulling the door open, Tony let a soft gasp leave his lips – the person standing there was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Long legs led to a torso that was covered with a white and purple striped shirt and flight jacket. The length of this person’s neck held a head covered in dark brown, curly hair. Tony took a couple of steps back on instinct, his brain going haywire.

“Are you Tony?”

In an attempt to speak, Tony opened his mouth – no words followed, however. Blushing, he chose to nod instead. He opened the door a little bit wider, his hand swinging in a ‘come in gesture’. His lips were quirked into an involuntary smile, everything about his body he could usually control now running on instinct and the overwhelming hormones that coursed through him.

A soft chuckle left the other’s mouth, the sound like music to his ears. Why did it take this long to deliver someone like this to his door? More than anything, Tony hoped that handsome person walking into the dorm that must be his new roommate wasn’t a total piece of shit – he wanted to be able to hold out a little hope.

“I’m Peter – Peter Parker. I just transferred here,” the man, Peter, said – his eyes wandering around the modest fixtures that Tony kept around the shared space. “Is that really a big-screen TV?” Peter’s plumps lips formed a roguish grin, coffee-colored eyes flashing with genuine excitement. “I never thought I’d see one of those in a college dorm room.”

Tony watched him trace a hand across the top, his fingers fiddling with the wiring at the back of it. “And it has HDMI capability. We can get both of my systems set up on this thing.” Peter’s excitement took him by surprise, everyone else who walked through the door didn’t care about the cool shit he brought with him – just the differences between them; his age, the sexuality he refused to hide – his academic abilities, even.

Not Peter, though – he went on to explain that he was getting a degree in Electrical Engineering and didn’t get to have some of the newer appliances growing up. It was weird, to see someone so excited about the nerdy stuff Tony liked, too. They heartily discussed the best way to get both the Xbox and PlayStation set up through the tv without bogging down the cable setup already existing in the room.

By the time they were both happy with how Peter’s things mixed into the fixtures of the room, Tony figured he was already head over heels for the guy – for the first time in his life, someone took him at face value and didn’t hate what they saw.

----

The rest of the year with Peter went by seamlessly. During the spring semester, they planned to have a class together, both of them still needing to take some of the basic engineering classes. There wouldn’t be a lot of cross over later in their degrees, so they took advantage. It was different, having someone he could rely on sitting in class next to him, and then being there at home later on, too. Tony never got to experience the sort of camaraderie that Peter so freely gave to him.

Mornings were filled with the two of them trying to make breakfast on the little hot plate Peter brought from home. It was always an adventure, trying to get everything cooked all the way through and evenly – at least, Tony enjoyed watching Peter puzzle it all together. Their day started together and as the time passed, it ended together, too. Peter liked to spend time in their shared space, so Tony found excuses to be out there, too.

Tony found himself seeking out Peter’s company all the time, if he were being honest. Peter was the most interesting person – he didn’t care about the normal things; he wanted to learn and explore, he wanted to see what the world had to offer. Best of all, he seemed to want to include Tony in the things he wanted to know more about.

A couple of months into their second semester living together, Tony looked up to find Peter staring at him. “What’s your middle name?” Peter asked, a smirk slipping across his lips. “Are you an Anthony, or just Tony?”

Putting his pen down in the book he’d been reading to keep his place, Tony shifted a bit and gave Peter his full attention. “My full name is Anthony Edward Stark. No one but my mom calls me Anthony, though.” Tony tried to keep the blush he couldn’t help under cover, but his ears were warm – there was no escaping it. “What about you? Are you a junior, or something?”

The exchange went on a for a while, Peter talking a bit about his family in Queens and the Brainiac’s team he left behind when he graduated and came to Cambridge. Tony soaked up the information and attempted to be open about pieces of himself, too – he talked about his dad and the weird relationship they had and about Dum-E and the never-ending tweaks and adjustments he made to better him.

It was a little easier after that conversation, both of them felt a little more comfortable and for Tony, he felt closer to Peter than any other person in his life. He hoped it wasn’t obvious, how much Peter meant to him. There were stars in his eyes constantly – so he kind of doubted it.

Even his mom noticed how things shifted for him – he wasn’t his normally surly self when he went home over spring break. Maria looked at him with a weird smile – Tony didn’t think he’d ever seen the look on her face before. “School okay, Tony?” she questioned, her hands brushing through the hair by his ear. He figured she missed the little kid he used to be – he would sit for hours and let her pet him like that back then.

Grinning, Tony nodded – his teenage hormones making it hard to keep himself calm, cool, and collected. “Yes, it’s okay. I’m doing well and really enjoying Differential Equations this semester.” He kept his answer brief, his inability to talk to her still in place despite the weightless feeling that accompanied him. “I’m thinking about picking up a class in the summer and sticking around.”

He didn’t tell her that Peter was involved in a work study program and would need to be on campus all summer working. It seemed silly to give up his bedroom in the place that was now his home simply because summer came around.

Tony didn’t want to miss a single second of time he could be around Peter – no matter how weirdly pathetic that probably was. Later, when he left the kitchen and headed towards his room, Tony missed the smile his mom beamed his way.

Their end of the semester project was due a couple of weeks after they got back from spring break, so Tony and Peter spent a lot of time together when they got back from visiting their respective families. It was a little like the time away from each other strengthened the need for the bond between them. Peter spent more time in the dorm and when he couldn’t be there, Tony pestered him at work, the help desk more than familiar with him after all the time he spent there.

The closer they got; the more Tony wondered if Peter felt the same way that he did. Tony knew he was still young, his 18th birthday creeping slowly toward him. There were tons of great looking people on campus, people that were closer to Peter’s age – but he hoped, he crossed his fingers and looked up in search of a person he didn’t believe in just to send up a little wish into the atmosphere.

Tony tried to gage things between them a couple of weeks before the end of the semester – he wanted the summer to go off without a hitch and knew his useless pinning would be more of a burden than anything if he didn’t at least try and find out if he stood any chances. He wasn’t completely sure of how he’d try to fish out the truth, but he needed to – the probable thought of exploding crossing his mind frequently.

A perfect opportunity presented itself when Peter came home a little tipsy from a party that Friday night, his face split into a loose smile, eyes shining with the blaze of alcohol and something simmering just below the surface. Tony paused the round of Tekken he’d been playing, his hand patting the cushion next to him. “Have a good night?” Tony asked curiously, his lips slipping into a smile when Peter threw himself carelessly down onto the couch. Their shoulders brushed, that little bit of contact sending a torrent of happiness through him.

“I definitely drank enough to make it feel like it was a good night,” Peter replied, the alcohol letting the words fall easily from loose lips. “MJ brought 151 in a little flask – it doesn’t taste like shoe cleaner, so it was easy to drink a little bit too much.” He smiled and leaned further into Tony’s side. “Glad to be back, though.”

A nose brushed the side of his neck, Tony holding his breath to stop the gasp that tried to escape from the confines of his chest. He put the controller down on the arm of the couch and sat more fully on the couch – his arm going around the back of it. “I’m glad that you’re back, too,” Tony admitted, his hand moving inch by inch until his fingertips were just barely fumbling with the sleeve of Peter’s black t-shirt.

“What are you doing, Tony?” Peter asked from his place against Tony’s shoulder, his breath tickling his skin, the sensation distracting. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth and absorbed he warmth while he could – Peter nestled in the space Tony wanted him the most might never happen again.

“I – don’t know. I – “ Tony started to speak, but the common problem of getting a little tongue-tied around Peter coming back with a vengeance. “I think I was trying to put my arm around you.” He felt his face flush even further – his cheeks and ears the same colors as Peter’s without the influence of alcohol and its properties.

While he didn’t actually move away, Tony felt Peter stiffen. Sucking in a hurt breath, Tony froze, too – he must’ve read the room wrong. “Oh,” he heard Peter say, the word muffled by Tony’s skin still. He gulped, then extracted himself from the tangle of longer arms and warm skin – his eyes already starting to burn with tears he wouldn’t be able to control for much long.

“Sorry – I didn’t, I mean. I – sorry, Pete.” Tony babbled, the inability to speak in full sentences hitting him double time now that embarrassment coated the nervousness that threatened to overcome him. How stupid could he be? Turning before he could embarrass himself further, Tony made a quick beeline to his room and shut the door. He slumped back against it, sliding down to the floor.

----

Tony avoided Peter as much as he could leading up to the end of the semester, and subsequently, Tony’s birthday. He’d already made the commitment to stay over the summer, and he steeled himself for the awkwardness that would more than likely settle between them. The soft ‘oh’ Peter mumbled that night still played in his mind – his voice just as confused as the rigid posture of his body.

Either way, he needed to find a way to get over it – Peter was the best roommate he ever had, and he still had at least one more year of school to get through. It felt good to finish a semester and he did his best to focus on that instead of the weird ache in his chest. No wonder so many people were so wrecked by the love thing – when it didn’t work out, it hurt like an absolute bitch.

The two weeks before finals and Tony’s birthday followed much of the same pattern – Tony stayed in his room until he couldn’t stop the rumble in his stomach; he did his best to time his ventures into the shared space of the dorm when he thought Peter wouldn’t be there. It was easier to just ignore the situation and hope it past.

His birthday rolled around without much fanfare – he was glad to be 18 and didn’t need the huge party his parents wanted to throw him. They were never about him, anyway. Tony figured he’d spend the day watching the TV in his room and making his way through the couple different cartons of ice cream he put in the freezer the day before.

A knock on the door around 10AM had him muting the TV to answer it, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw Peter on the other side of the door. “Hey. Happy Birthday, Tony,” Peter started, the card in his hand being thrust forward into Tony’s chest without much finesse. The hand he could feel against him shook; Peter obviously nervous for some reason.

“Actually – that’s not why I’m here. I thought maybe you’d be more willing to open the door when there was something to celebrate.” Peter shrugged, his legs crossing in front of him. “Tony, that night – I wasn’t… upset, or anything. About what you said. I was surprised. I didn’t have any idea that you felt like that. It was a shock – I’d been crushing on you for months at that point and there you were, adorably trying to put your arm around me. You were gone before the ability to think started to work again.”

He reached out and traced Tony’s cheekbone with a soft finger, the caress barely there. “I like you, Tony – I want you to like me, too.” The fingers trailed along Tony’s soft skin and into his hair, the entirety of his hand palming the back of his neck when it got there. “And I think you do.”

“I do, Pete. I do. I really, really do.” Tony let both of his hands drift to the bare skin of Peter’s forearm, his fingers gripping the grounding warmth there. “Will you kiss me?” Tony asked the question so sweetly, the blazing in his eyes a sharp contrast

Peter used his lips to answer, the hand on the back of his head pulling Tony close enough to press their lips together. A gasp left Tony’s lips, the touch like an electric shock. In an attempt to keep his feet on the ground, Tony fisted Peter’s shirt in his hands, the move bringing them closer still.

The need for air had them pulling apart, Tony’s eyes opening wide to take in the look on Peter’s face – he figured the loopy smile there mirrored the happiness etched into his own cheeks.

“Want to go out with me, Tony?” Peter mumbled, his face breaking into a beaming smile.

Laughing, Tony used the grip on Peter’s shirt to pull him back in for a chaste kiss, his entire being thrumming with life.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#starker #ironspider #au prompts #bobbie writes #nonnie #anonymous #college/university au

32 notes · View notes

cpw-nyc · 4 years

Photo

The Lost Art of Having a Chat: What Happened When I Stopped Texting and Started Talking

We are more connected than ever, but we rarely seem to really speak to each other. So, I decided to try.

The Guardian Rebecca Nicholson

‘People are almost always nicer on the phone than on text.’

Like most people I know, my Weekly Screen Report is obscene. Every Sunday, when the notification pops up to tell me the hours I have wasted, mostly texting, I think about all the things I could have done. Finished Middlemarch. Started Middlemarch. But as I have my phone in my hand, I scroll through Instagram instead. I send an article or a joke to a friend, a picture of the dog to the family WhatsApp, catch up on someone else’s night out. Recently, I clocked up – and I’m ashamed as I write this – six hours and 29 minutes of phone usage in a single day. I have had days where I’ve barely been awake that long. Messages is my most used app. I am talking all the time.

But I am rarely talking. For the chatterboxes among us, this is a time of upheaval. The long, spontaneous chat on the phone is going the way of the fax. The percentage of households with a landline that’s used to make calls is declining every year, from 83 percent in 2016 to 73 percent in 2019; the number of calls made on house phones plummeted by 17 percent in 2018 alone. We still use our mobiles to talk – in 2018, Ofcom surveyed mobile users for three months and found only 6 percent of them never made a single call – but we are not talking in any great depth. The same study found that over 80 percent of calls were shorter than five minutes, and the majority were under 90 seconds. I looked at my own recent call list: three minutes, two minutes, five minutes at a push. What can you say in that time? You can only make the point you’ve called to make.

I know many will welcome this as a kind of freedom. The very idea of talking on the phone invokes horror among those who claim to loathe it. There are thousands of memes explaining the many ways that talking, not texting, is rude, basically criminal. Calling is not time-efficient, ill-suited to the attention economy, where all eyes must be on several screens at once. You can send messages when you’re doing something else – watching The Irishman, or having a bath, or even talking to another person in real life. My dad recently marvelled at me being able to text with two thumbs; I marvel at teenagers being able to text while talking to you and not looking at the screen. Once technology gave us the ability to easily screen calls, we ran with it. We can ignore the relative who phones with a list of recent hometown tragedies, the work call we don’t feel like taking, our chattiest of friends who might not let us go for an hour. But what happens if you are that chatty friend?

Smart phones are smart enough to tell you that you’re using them too much. The dumb phone is making a comeback. I wondered if it was possible to ride this wave of the digital detox and make a deliberate effort to call instead of text. I wanted to see if it would change my relationships, particularly the ones I had grown lazy about maintaining. The plan was to stay off text and DMs for a solid month. I was fed up of paddling in the shallows. I wanted to swim. If I needed to speak to someone, I’d have to call them.

When the writer Elizabeth Wurtzel died in January, a piece she wrote in 2013, about her “one-night stand of a life”, began to circulate again, and it contained one paragraph that hit me particularly hard. “Look at how we live,” she wrote. “We communicate in text messages and emails; even those of us old enough to have lived in a world where landline was not a word because it’s all there was have fallen into this lazy substitute for human contact. I have.”

Who hasn’t? It should be easier than ever to talk. There are limitless outlets for publishing our thoughts, endless ways to begin a kind of conversation. Voice memos are popular, particularly among young people, but they’re a halfway house, still one-sided. We talk with one eye on efficiency, and it strangles what is so good about it – the spontaneity, the lack of ability to control what happens when two people are rambling on to each other.

The psychologist Sherry Turkle has been studying the impact of computers on human psychology since the early 1980s, and in 2015 she published Reclaiming Conversation, in which she referred to “the edited life” that we live now. She spoke to teachers who observed that their students seemed to develop empathetic skills at a slower rate than they would be expected to. “Face-to-face conversation is the most human – and humanising – thing we do,” she wrote. “Fully present to one another, we learn to listen. It’s where we develop the capacity for empathy. It’s where we experience the joy of being heard, of being understood.”

Are we losing that joy of being heard? Most offices are quieter places than they have ever been. The open-plan rooms I have worked in over the last decade or so are filled with people wearing headphones, silently tapping away on Gchat or Slack. Even workplaces that should invite conversation are making it easier to avoid talking at all. If you stay in a budget hotel, you can check yourself in and out. If you scan your onions on the supermarket’s self- service checkout, you don’t need to chat about what you’re planning to do with them. When it was common enough to be considered a problem, making a phone call on public transport used to be frowned upon. In the early 00s, Dom Joly built a TV career out of shouting “Hello!” into an oversized mobile in public places. Train carriages are now full of heads bowed, illuminated by blue light. A few years ago the Daily Mash ran a much-shared satirical news story: “A northern man has left a trail of terror across London by attempting to interact socially with everyone he meets.” And even in the north, screens have begun to dominate. Quiet carriages are becoming redundant. We are making ourselves quiet.

In 2014, someone set up a family WhatsApp group. Before then, I spoke to my family on the phone all the time. Now, we spend more time in touch with each other than ever before, yet I miss them. It’s a noticeboard, more than a conversation. The person I still speak to most often, and for longest, is my nan, who is 83. She has a mobile, but doesn’t text. The other day I phoned to see how she was, and she told me a long story about how she was never supposed to have the name that she has, but there were 23 pubs in the village she was born in, and her father stopped in at most of them on the way to register her birth. By the time he got to the clerk, he’d forgotten what he’d been told to call her, so he named her after the clerk instead.

Verbal conversations are unpredictable and unwieldy in a way that those written down are not, because when we type or tap, we are in control, of our side, at least. This ruthless chat efficiency has excised the flab but, I realise, I love the flab. It’s where the excitement happens. I wanted to revive those conversations with everyone. So in my month of no texts, the WhatsApp group would be the first thing to go. I went to delete the app, pressed my finger on the screen, let it wobble – and then I stopped. There was a video of my niece dancing in front of the TV that I wanted to show my partner and I thought, I can just look at the photos and videos, every now and then. Can’t I?

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/the-lost-art-of-having-a-chat-what-happened-when-i-stopped-texting-and-started-talking?utm_source=pocket-newtab

#Phone #Lost Art of Having a Chat #Texting

7 notes · View notes

raybyanothername · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker Characters: Harley Keener, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds Additional Tags: Background Relationships, Big Brothers, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism Summary:

When in doubt, call for help.

Five times Peter calls Harley for help and one time Harley calls Peter.

If you like this fic and are feeling generous: https://ko-fi.com/raybyanothername

Harley was elbows deep in an engine when his phone started ringing. He grumbled, pulling his hands out and slid from beneath his mother's sedan with a few grunts and one curse word. He managed to avoid tripping over his own feet as he stood, catching himself on the workbench. He tapped the green button without looking at the screen.

"I screwed up Harley," the voice was soft, light and the teenage boy on the other end of his phone was sniffling. "I screwed up and now Tony's pissed at me, May's mad, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Pete," Harvey said his name slowly, "What happened?"

This was the moment Harley Keener, age 17, realized he had more than one younger sibling. And spiders were harder than sisters.

"So… Tony took your suit?" Harley's eyes scrunched together.

"Yeah. He said if I'm nothing without the suit than I shouldn't have it." Peter had stopped sniffling now, which Harley took to mean that the crying portion of the evening was done. His voice was still a wavering whisper.

Harley sighed, plopping down from his perch on the work table to open his minifridge. "You're making me agree with Tony. And I was really looking forward to arguing with him."

"What?!" Peter screeched, "But. I'm Spiderman, I can't just disappear!"

"You're also 15." Harley rolled his eyes, already prepared for sputters and rambling defense. "You've quit most of your hobbies, Pete. All the stuff you use to enjoy. Just to be Spiderman."

Peter squawked, "Just?!"

"Dude, you have your whole life to be a super hero." Harley wished he lived closer to New York so he could show up in Queens with ice cream and a foam bat. "You only get a few years as a kid."

"So, what? I just stop being Spiderman?"

Maybe Tony would pay for a plane ticket?

"Technically, you were Spiderman before Tony gave you a suit." Harley grabbed a soda from his fridge, he popped the top one handed. "But. You could also take a break. See what being Peter Parker is like again."

Peter was quiet for a minute. "Just Peter Parker?"

"Just?!" Harley mimicked Peter's earlier outrage. Peter chuckled. "Peter Parker is way more than Spiderman. Just like Tony is more than Iron Man."

Peter was quiet again. Harley drank his soda, slurping loudly so Peter could hear him. The teen started laughing again, "You're way better at explaining this than Tony was."

"Who do you think lectures him about it?" Harley grinned to himself. They answered simultaneously.

"Rhodey."

"So... why's May mad?" Harley asked as he started back towards his workbench.

Peter's laugh turned nervous, "I…kinda got detention. For ditching school."

Harley paused in his step, "Dude. You screw up our plans for MIT, I will kick your ass. Spider powers be damned." He took another drink, "Speaking of, does Ned own a foam bat?"

-.-.-

>>> Help!!!

Harley looked at the three exclamation marks as he walked out of class. He started walking towards Amherst St as he typed out a response to Ned.

>>> What's Peter doing now?

>>> Planning.

Oh. That could not be good. Harley checked his watch and then tapped on his phone app. Peter picked up quickly, which meant Karen had redirected him.

"Ned is concerned." Wind whistled. Definitely swinging.

"It's a perfectly good plan!" Peter's voice was huffed. The wind stopped. Peter cleared his throat, "It's way better than his European bachelors plan!"

Harley stopped mid-step, "What is Ned planning to do to the European bachelors?" Someone jostled him from behind and Harley kept walking.

"No," Peter scoffed, "We'd be bachelors in Europe. Pick up women in every city sort of deal."

"Given that you're both awkward and completely inept at flirting -" Peter screeched "- I agree, that's a horrible plan." Harley punched in his code at the entrance to his dorm.

Peter immediately launched a defense, "I'm not completely inept! I got the most popular girl in school to go with me to Homcoming onc-"

"Then you ditched her to take down a supervillain.

"- And! I'm smooth, like I'm a superhero, so obviously I have killer moves."

Harley snorted, "Are you or are you not currently standing atop a building in your suit talking to midair." Peter shut up. "And gesturing! I'd be missing a key part of the whole scene if I forgot the hand gestures."

"Okay…you may have a point." Peter grumbled. Harley smiled to himself as he climbed the stairs. He'd just reached his room when Peter finally broke under the pressure of silence. "But my plan to ask MJ out will totally work!"

Aha! MJ. He should have known.

"Please," Harley threw his bag on his bed and took a seat at his desk, "Enlighten me." He kicked his feet up onto the desk as he leaned the chair back onto two legs.

Peter immediately jumped into a thorough explanation of his courtship blueprint, "So it starts on the plane…"

-.-.-

There was a loud ringing in Harley's ear that wouldn't stop. He groaned and pushed at the large piece of a building on his chest. At least he was fairly positive the debris was from a building. That had been what the dude with the superpowers had thrown at him.

"How the hell did Tony handle a moon?" Harley whined as the repulsors in his hand blew the rubble away. He stood on shakey feet. At least the superpowered maniac had been subdued by his drones. "Nate, damage report?"

Harley shook his head as his A.I. began listing out his injuries. Nothing major, just a few bruised ribs and a possible concussion. The damage to the area was worse, several of the buildings were missing sections of walls, even foundations.

"Dude, couldn't you have given some consideration to structural integrity?!" Harley aimed his shout at the person he'd just taken into custody. Given the way they were snarling and struggling against their restraints, Harley considered the chance of a response minimal.

"Shall I reach out to the Xavier Institute?" Nate's electronic voice filtered through Harley's ear. He merely nodded and within minutes Nate had an E.T.A blinking in the upper corner of his display.

It was longer than Harley was hoping for. His dream of a nice long soak before bed was looking more like a quick shower at this point. He blamed Tony. It was his idea, and his requirement, that Harley sleep a minimum of six hours a night before work. It was in the Young Avengers' contract AND his Stark Industries contract.

"You have an incoming call from Peter Parker." Nate didn't wait for Harley to acknowledge him, he connected Peter immediately.

"If this has anything to with superhumans, metahumans, or a coming apocalypse I must inform you that I'm already at my maximum superhero hours for the week." Harley grinned as Peter's face appeared on his screen. The younger man's face immediately startled, eyes going wide.

In the video call Peter was standing in his dorm room, two ties in his hands, "I just need to know which color I should wear for my presentation…"

"Well, then…" Harley laughed, "Free as a bird. This is the Stark Foundation thing right? The proposals for funding?"

Peter nodded and his voice literally squeaked, "Yeah."

"Purple." Harley ignored both the red and blue ties in Peter's hand. "Everyone always wears red for that and Morgan will be there so she'll get a kick out you wearing Rescue's colors instead."

"Pepper won't think I'm trying to butter her up?" Peter threw the ties in his hand on his bed and started rifling in one of his drawers. He emerged with a triumphant cheer and a purple tie in hand. There were cartoon stars drawn on it in yellow.

Harley grinned at Morgan's attempts to 'brighten up' Peter's wardrobe, "Nah. Rhodey's judging this year." Peter visibly breathed out. "Relax, Pete, your project's good on its own. You deserve the funding, same as everyone else."

"I just don't want anyone to think I'm taking advantage…" Peter averted his eyes. Harley snorted. Peter glared.

"Dude, Tony offered you the money to fund the project outright and you applied for the grant instead," Harley looked pointedly at Peter before rolling his eyes. "Now, put on your tie and try not to stutter."

The sound of a jet landing nearby cut off Peter's attempts to defend himself. Harley smiled before he hung up. It was officially bath time!

-.-.-

There was no doubt in Harley's mind who was calling. The phone hadn't shut up in at least half an hour and there were only three people in his life that persistent. And his little sister was in Bali with Morgan, so that left Peter. Nate would have informed him of any family or Avengers related emergency, so Harley just let it ring. Eventually, it stopped.

God did his head hurt. He had no idea how Tony had ever managed to function back when he drank. Harley barely managed to grab his trash can when the phone started up again.

"Nate!" Harley called out as he crawled from his spot on the floor to the couch. He brought the waste basket with him.

"How may I be of service, *sir*?"

Harley cringed. Nate only sir-ed when he was annoyed. "Will you please tell Peter to call back later? I really can't deal with the noise much longer."

"Of course, sir."

The window in front of Harley darkened and then Peter appeared on his screen. "Harley! I've been calling for an hour!"

"Sh-" Harley groaned and then tried not to get any splatter on his hair as emptied his stomach. Peter gaped at him from the screen.

"Are you…*drunk*?" Peter whispered the word like it was a curse and his eyes even darted around like he expected someone to reprimand him. Which…okay, Harley understood that. "Mr. Stark will be furious! It's 10am!"

Harley glared at him, "I'm hungover, not drunk. And it's Saturday, Pete." Peter looked unconvinced, lips pursed and eyes wide. "What'd'ya need? I need to crawl to my bathtub sometime in the near future."

"What?" Peter's lips quirked and he hid a laugh by biting his tongue. "I…uh, just need some advice."

"If you're trying to get back with MJ again I will get on a plane right now to vomit on you." Harley said with a monotone. "You've both broken up with each other now. The circle is complete."

Peter blushed, "It's not MJ!" He started stammering and waving his hands around immediately. Harley blinked as he attempted to dissect Peter's description of study breaks and movie marathons and… Oh!

"You finally figured out you're in love with Ned, congratulations." Harley droned out, though he did manage to smile when Peter startled so bad at the word love that he got himself stuck on the ceiling. "I promise to be more excited when my body stops trying to invert itself."

"That's why we're not suppose to drink!" Peter crossed his arms as he jumped back to the floor. He frowned at Harley.

Harley shrugged, "Everyone has to try being drunk at least once right?" Peter's brow furrowed further. Harley sighed, "What advice do you need, Pete?"

"Well…" Peter dropped his hands to his side. His eyes shifted to the ground. "…I don't know how to ask Ned out."

"Repeat after me, Pete," Harley started. Peter scrunched up his brows, but nodded. Harley grinned, "Hi Ned."

"Hi, Ned."

"I like you..."

"…I like you…" Peter fidgeted.

Harley continued, "As more than friends."

"As more than friends."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Can I kiss you?" Peter repeated the words and then coughed, "What?! No! I can't say that, it's too forward!"

Harley rolled his eyes and then immediately flinched. "Nate?" Harley groaned. His A.I. chirped to attention. "Send the recording of this video to Ned."

"As you wish." Harley smiled at the lack of 'sir.'

On the screen Peter was yelling. Harley just leaned back against his sofa, "I've been watching you two pine after each other for years, Pete. You'll thank me later." He reached forward and hit a button on his remote.

Peter's face blinked away.

"The video has been received."

Harley nodded and then started the long crawl for his bathtub. Nate decided to report on the side effects of excessive alcohol consumption the whole way.

Three hours later he got a text from Peter.

>>> You're an asshole when you drink. >>>…but thanks.

-.-.-

With great power came great responsibility… and apparently a whole slew of teens who didn't realize superheroing didn't come with health insurance.

"How does someone even break this many bones sparring with a dummy?" Harley groused to himself as he read over the incident report from the last Young Avengers training session.

Tony'd taken one look at it, burst out laughing, and handed the report to Harley. He bet Captain America didn't have to deal with this sort of thing.

"Na-te…" Harley whined and pushed his tablet away to lay his head on the table. His A.I. chirped to life with a sound exceptionally similar to a snicker.

"How may I be of service?" Nate was far too cheerful.

Harley glowered at the ceiling, "How much would it cost to pad every surface in one of the training rooms?"

"Calculating…" Nate drawled, "I don't believe that will be conducive to a realistic training experience."

"Let me dream," Harley sighed and reached for his tablet just as it began to chirp with new notifications. None of them were from his team or a medical professional, for once.

His phone started ringing with Peter's ringtone and Harley had no time to greet his little brother before the younger man started rambling, "Open the attachment! Open it!"

"Okay…" Harley chuckled and clicked in to one of his notifications, it was indeed a message with a photo attachment from his favorite spider-themed superhero. He grinned as the message loaded up on to the projector screen, "This isn't some weird porn like last time is it?"

"That was perfectly tasteful fanart of me!" Peter was definitely blushing, and bouncing on the balls of his feet based on his excitement. Based on the thudding, he might even be bouncing from wall to wall.

Harley tapped slowly on his screen, "I don't know, that was an iffy pose for you and Deadpool to be in together... You know he's too old for you right?"

"Harley!" Peter whined just as Harley finally hit the button for the photo to pop up on the screen.

"Holy shit…" Harley breathed out at the ring suddenly sitting before his eyes. It had a spider web like design around the band and some small red and blue stones at key joints in the webbing. "Is that…"

"It's good right?" Peter launched into a frantic ramble immediately, "I know it's kind of Spiderman themed but Ned's been my Guy in the Chair for years now so I thought he'd like the nod, ya know? Sort of, I don't acknowledging his contributions as my teammate and my…my…uh…"

Harley pursed his lips as Peter stumbled over calling Ned his boyfriend.

"…it's just not enough of the right word!" Peter stomped his foot. "He's more than that, and I want to get this right…"

"Want me to send him a recording of you rambling about how to phrase your proposal?" Harley asked and Peter squawked. Harley laughed, "You got this Peter. He'll love it."

Peter let out an audible breath, "Okay, yeah, you're right."

"You've been inseperable for years, even before you starting making out on rooftops," Harley teased, illicting another squawk from Peter, "Chances are you won't even have to say anything, just get down on one knee and show him the ring."

Harley looked up at his screen at the intricate metalwork. It was absolutely the most Peter style ring he'd ever seen.

"And hey, if he says no, I have a whole legion of semi-competent teenagers you can have has consolation."

Peter snorted, "No way. The Young Avengers are your problem. I'm strictly a solo guy until we get invaded by aliens."

"I'll throw in a set of ginsu knives!" Harley half-begged as Peter started laughing at him. His tablet chirped with a notification from the Avengers medical unit. "Please?!"

"I'll take the knives as a wedding present instead," Peter chuckled. Harley pouted for a second until he heard a faint gasp from Peter's side of the phone.

Ned's voice was quiet from distance and slightly squeaky, "What wedding?" Peter's line went dead just as Harley started cackling.

"I have the estimates for a padded training room," Nate cut in as Harley slouched back in his chair.

"Email it to me," Harley sighed and kicked his feet up on the chair, "I'm gonna celebrate Peter's engagement first, before I get bombarded with wedding planning."

Nate chirped unhappily as Harley ordered one of his drones to grab him a bottle of champagne. It was 5 o'clock somewhere after all.

-.-.-

+ 1

Being Peter's big brother was a lot easier when Peter was the one coming to him for help. Girls, boys, spidey-related mishaps - Harley could handle it all. This… this was out of his area of expertise.

"Hey Harley!" Peter answered on the first ring in a chipper voice. The sounds of machinery in the background told Harley he was at his lab, probably manufacturing some cool new gadget.

"Hey…" Harley's voice sounded rough and strained even to him. "You, uh, got a sec?"

Peter's side of the phone suddenly went quiet and his voice lowered to a whisper, "Is everything okay Harley?"

"Tony might have been right about my overextending myself," Harley cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair, "With the Young Avengers and taking over Stark Industries and coordinating with the Accords council and-"

"What do you need?" Peter asked, all ready to launch in to action. Harley heard him futzing around his lab and had to smile at the visual in his head. "What can I do?"

Harley took a breath, glanced around at the deserted beach he was sitting on. His Iron Lad armor, and Nate, were nowhere in sight. There was an empty bottle of tequila at his feet. Harley really hated when Tony was right.

"Well… I kinda need a ride, to start."

"You got it!" Peter starting typing, the familiar sounds of clacking keys practically music to Harley's ears. "Where are you?"

That… was a really good question.

"Haven't a clue," Harley chuckled dryly. The sound cracking in his throat, "Honestly, I'm not even sure this is the phone I had last night."

Peter coughed to hide his squeak, "Don't worry, I'll triangulate your signal, Harley. You'll be home in no time!"

Yup. Home. Where Tony would be waiting with worry and disappointment in equal measure.

"Damn. I really screwed up this time, huh Pete?" Harley knew he was in trouble when Peter didn't laugh. Welp. Even big brothers screw him sometimes, or so Rhodey had told him once.

"That's what brothers are for right?" Peter said with a half-laugh Harley knew was meant to be comforting.

It actually was too. Harley fell backwards into the sand, "Yeah, thanks Pete."

#ray writes #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel #mcu spiderman #iron family #harley keener #peter parker

2 notes · View notes