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tobiosmilktea · 4 years

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umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[008] — we meet again!

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a/n: i was listening to hozier while writing this which explains why both bokuto and iwaizumi is whipped for the mc ✨

asking if you were okay was a good question. really, it is—too bad you didn’t know the answer to that very question no matter how grossly interchangeable the words were tossed around and scrambled into nuances phrases. if anything, it made your mood turn even more sour as your two best friends tried their best to calm you down. keyword: tried

kaori was too busy dying of laughter as she would tease the glaring look on your face. “you’re going to pop a blood vessel, honey.” she snickered, holding her stomach as it ached under the constant tension.

meanwhile akaashi was still profusely apologizing beneath the latter’s amusement. a sigh left your lips for the umpteenth time in the span of five minutes as your arms braided over each other in frustration. “what the fuck are you trying to get at, keiji?”

a gasp practically escaped kaori as she slapped her hand over her mouth, “(y/n) used your first name, that’s how you now she’s pissed off.”

akaashi could only roll his eyes. it was to his best bet to ignore any of kaori’s quips as she’s known to escalate things just by the power of that witty brain of hers. “nothing!” the editor exclaimed as he turned back to you, “i just figured it wasn’t a big deal since you and bokuto both said you guys ended on good terms. besides, i warned you to check the list.”

“okay, but that doesn’t explain the fact that iwaizumi is here!” it was at this moment that you were glad the music was pumping loudly through the venue speakers to hide over your shouts.

“i told you they work for the same team, but i didn’t know they were friends until i saw who bokuto wanted to invite!”

you groan, “unbelievable.”

“i just don’t think you should let their presence ruin the rest of the night, (y/n).” akaashi mentions flatly.

“i agree,” kaori suddenly cuts in, “it’s your party, you could kick them out if you want.” she suggests with an impish tone and an expression laced in provocation.

“i’m not going to kick them out, kaori—” you’re interrupted then as she swiftly elbows you in the breast, “ouch! what was that for?”

“sorry, i was aiming for your ribs not your titty.” she laughs briefly before motioning to a familiar figure making it’s way towards you three. perhaps it was his height that triggered a response in you to cause your heart to rapidly thump against your ribcage, but honestly, it was probably his spiked hair with white tips that was the perpetrator. “is that bokuto? oh fuck, he’s coming, act natural.”

great, you thought. you had to fight the urge to just walk away a leave, but you knew it wasn’t going to end well whatever you did. knowing your luck, you were going to stumble upon this man one way or another.

“akaashi, there you are!” bokuto calls out over the crowd, serpentining his way through groups of conversating individuals to reach his best friend. but in all honesty, akaashi knew what this guy was doing. bokuto didn’t listen to a word he said in his text messages as the volleyball player ended up coming over here either way just to talk to you.

you’re over (y/n) my ass, akaashi thinks to himself, feigning from rolling his eyes again because at this point, it was just a matter of time before everything came crashing down.

it almost felt like a target was on you, perhaps a red laser shining right in the middle of your forehead the moment bokuto flickered his attention to you. “(y/n)! it’s so nice seeing you again!”

you nod as an awkwardly smile melted on your expression, “it’s nice seeing you too, bokuto.” despite your meek demeanor, what you said certainly wasn’t a lie. you would be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t miss bokuto and his warming aura. you suppose it was the sudden meeting that caused your fight or flight response to suddenly kick in.

bokuto’s eyebrows furrow slightly, “bokuto? what happened to calling me kou?”

as if the situation wasn’t already difficult being in, it was as if he flicked another match into the burning dumpster fire of a party. “well... we haven’t seen each other in years, so i thought it was appropriate.”

“ah...” his voice trailed on as a few beats of silence ensued.

“oh shit,” kaori suddenly curses under her breath as she nonchalantly spilled his drink all over her arm. “um, akaashi could you come and help me clean this off?” she asks in faux concern, not bothering to give the guy a chance to answer as she tugged him away.

you couldn’t help but feel a faint smirk forming on your lips as you watched the two disappear into the crowd. kaori was always good at acting herself out of awkward situations that you honestly had to applaud her. maybe later you would teasingly remind her to audition for the webtoon’s live action just to spite her. it was just a little mindless payback for leaving you alone with your ex-boyfriend.

your striking gazes met again as you turned your attention back towards bokuto. at first glance, he looked exactly the same as you last saw him—then again, the last time you did see bokuto was when you two decided to break up on the day before graduation, you couldn’t remember much of him as it was dark under the midnight sky as tears blurred your vision. even when things ended up mutual with no hard feelings, you still couldn’t help but feel a tug at your heart when you recalled the way bokuto looked at you then.

it was hard to sleep that night.

it was a bizarre juxtaposition of comparing eighteen year old bokuto to him now. rather than appearing before you with messy hair and tears streaming down his face, he was beaming in some contagious lightheartedness. it was a feeling you never thought you would feel so nostalgic in as he still smelt like fresh chamomile. he was much bigger now, more buff as one would say and not to mention taller as well.

perhaps going professional really treated this man wonders as you had to admit how increasingly more attractive he has gotten.

“you look great, by the way.” bokuto says, pulling you out of your thoughts as you realize how long you have been staring.

“thanks...” god, this is awkward. this certainly wasn’t leaving a good impression on your part, “you don’t look too bad either.”

a red tint burned at the tips of bokuto’s ears as he scratched the nape of his neck like it was some kind of nervous tic. he usually doesn’t get nervous meeting people, new or old, yet there was something about the way you look at him even after all these years that would send his heart rate into the extremes. he hated how this all ended due to your differing aspirations. “congrats on having a successful webtoon. love cemetery is amazing and i’m obsessed if you couldn’t already tell.”

“i never really pinned you to be one of my biggest fanboys, you know.”

“i’ve always been your biggest fanboy,” bokuto assured with a smirk, “how about you, are you still my biggest fangirl?”

you playfully scoffed at his statement, “um...”

“um?” he pressed, finding the amusement in your eyes adorable.

“i dunno, i haven’t really kept up with volleyball after high school.” you chuckled, swirling the contents of your drink in your hand. “besides, i think you have enough fangirls drooling over you.”

“who needs all of them if i have you?”

you rolled your eyes as you took a sip from the alcohol in your hands. “you’re flirting again.”

“isn’t that the reason why you dated my in the first place?” bokuto jested, feeling the burning in his cheeks as he couldn’t stop smiling. this was progress to him knowing that this playful banter was enough to surely get you two to reconnect again.

you peered your eyes at him suspiciously, “you’re planning something, aren’t you?”

“you’re making it sound like i’m evil!”

“well, are you?”

“of course i’m not,” said bokuto, “i just wanted us to be friends again.”

“you’re kidding.”

he shook his head, “never in a million years.”

you weren’t sure if it was his words that made your chest feel warm or if it was the alcohol in your system. regardless, you refused to let bokuto affect you so easily in a span of a couple minutes even if you took your alcohol well.

“at least you weren’t kidding when you said you were going professional.” you hummed, leaning against one of the smaller round tables as you stared into the crowd. you were hoping bokuto would do the same, but he’d rather look at you than a congregation of random strangers.

“and you weren’t kidding either when you said you wanted to become an artist.”

“i mean, becoming a webtoon artist wasn’t exactly what i thought i was going to be, but i’m glad where i am now in life.” you answered as your eyes wandered the room.

“even without me in it?” god, what a flirt.

that infamous laugh of yours emitted from your cherry-colored lips. it was the type of laugh everyone found themselves attracted to and never annoyed, in fact, it was the laugh bokuto hadn’t even realized he missed so much until the moment it left you.

his mindless attempts at flirting was catching up to you now as you couldn’t fight the feeling of the heat rising to your cheeks. “well, you’re right in front of me aren’t you?”

“things are different know, though...”

“right but—” you tried to respond, but was inevitably interrupted by yuko.

she came up to you in a slight hurry, calling out your name before apologizing to bokuto. “sorry to cut your conversation so short, but i need (y/n) to come take care of something for me.”

confusion melted upon your expression as you turned to her, “we do?”

“we do,” she huffs.

“it’s alright,” bokuto says while motioning for you to follow suit of your manager. “let’s catch up more sometime, yeah?”

you smile at him, one that’s less mediocre and awkward and a bit more genuine. “of course,” was the last thing you could say before yuko yanked at your arm once again until you were in just another body in the crowd.

despite yuko’s hand firmly gripped around your wrist to ensure you wouldn’t get lost in the sea of people, it was difficult trying to focus at one thing at a time. at first it was the worry about your manager and her sudden interruption, but now it was trying your best not to spill your drink due to all the drunken bodies bumping into yours. were there really this many people on the invite list?

grumbling to your self, you threw your head back as you finished the last bits of drink in your hand while you were pulled through the crowd like a ragdoll. having to pay for a stranger’s dry cleaning due to a spilled drink was the last thing on your mind right now.

“what did you want me to help you with?” you shout over to your manager once she slowed down.

“nothing,” said yuko over her shoulder, “i was watching you and bokuto talk and you kept getting redder and redder i thought you were going to pass out.”

embarrassment flushed through, cheeks heating up again at the thought. “ugh, was it that obvious?” you groaned as your head fell from the utter humiliation that was coursing through your body at that moment—far too distracted that your humiliation could only worsen the moment you bumped into another.

“sorry, i wasn’t looking—” the apologetic tone in your voice subsided as your eyes flickered up to whoever’s chest it was up to a yet another familiar face.

“(y/n)?” he says.

“iwaizumi?” you say.

your names were jumbled up in unison just as much as your thoughts immediately dissipated into thin air. just my luck, huh? you swore you were dreaming. nothing in the absolute world could possibly make such a ironic turn of events as if you were in some melodrama yourself. call it fate or destiny, but bumping into both of your exes within a span of ten minutes was something you never would’ve wished upon yourself.

“it’s um... fancy meeting you here.” you start the second you flicker a look over to yuko as she could only give you a pitiful smile. “it’s been a while, right?”

regardless of the confident aura you were extruding right now, you were completely freaking out for the third time this evening. you knew today was going to affect you emotionally, but you wasn’t expecting it to be like this. you were expecting to get a bit emotional due to the fact your webtoon that you poured your absolute heart and soul into has come to an end and not because two attractive dudes from your past just coincidentally came back into your life.

and yet it didn’t matter, it wasn’t like iwaizumi could see through that little façade of false confidence in your expression as it felt like he was meeting you for the first time all over again. it fit all down to a tee from the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat to his breath hitching from the sight or to the infamous monarch butterflies tickling his gut.

“it’s nice to see you too, (y/n)...” his words trailed as you couldn’t help but notice how deeper his voice had gotten since the last time you’ve seen him. granted, he was fifteen back then and had a lot of time to grow up and become this absolute adonis.

iwaizumi certainly wasn’t planning on coming across you this evening either. if anything, you two both shared that internal panic when your eyes briefly met at the start of the party. however, he couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved knowing that in the end you two did manage to cross ways. he supposes that after seeing you and bokuto talk as if you two have known each other for years created an inkling feeling in his gut.

he hates the way you distracted him the majority of the night. it wasn’t like you two were on talking terms especially after years of not seeing each other, yet it felt strange for him to even let himself feel this way.

besides, iwaizumi felt absolutely terrible knowing satomi was trying her hardest to capture his lingering attention by making conversation about anything—literally anything.

anyone who had been friends with iwaizumi in the past know he’s an absolute sweetheart, but at the same time, he’s honest. he’s not the type to hesitate in telling someone the cold hard truth even if it meant hurting their feelings, yet whenever he would look at satomi, he couldn’t bring himself to say that he wasn’t interested in the conversation.

you cleared your throat, pulling iwaizumi back from his thoughts, “so... i heard that you became the new athletic trainer for the black jackals.” the man before you nods as he was stilling taking you all in. was he staring at you for that long? “i thought were living in california, why the sudden change of plans?”

iwaizumi shrugs as he took a sip of his beer, “i ended up getting a better job offer here, so i decided to move back. why? have you missed me?”

the moment those words left his lips, he immediately wanted to slap his hand over his mouth and cringe. why was he suddenly so flirtatious with you? was it because he saw you and bokuto flirting earlier, was that it?

you chuckled in amusement as you nod. you honestly weren’t going to lie that his words did catch you off guard for a second. something like this was definitely not in iwaizumi’s handbook his (more or less) complicated personality, yet you decided to play along anyway. “of course i have, iwa! i’m not soulless, you know.”

iwa? the man before thought to himself, what happened to haji? he shook the thought out of his as he opened his mouth in attempt to speak, but he noticed your attention leaving his and onto the person beside him.

satomi cleared her throat as she looks at him innocently, waiting for iwaizumi to introduce her to you.

“oh uh,” he motions his head to the team’s physical therapist next to him, “this is yahagi satomi, she’s my—”

“—date for this evening,” she cuts iwaizumi off and answers for him, catching him a bit off guard and confused, yet he doesn’t correct her. granted, satomi was his plus one so it made sense.

you purse your lips as you took in her features. she was a bit on the shorter side with her long copper hair pulled back into a sleek high ponytail as her bangs were styled perfectly to fit her face. semi was right, she is pretty. it was then you stuck your hand out for her to shake, feeling who cold her palm was compared to yours. “it’s nice to meet you. how long have you two been together?” you ask out of the blue.

i mean, what’s wrong with a little curiosity?

“oh no, we’re not together.” iwaizumi is quick to answer, not even noticing satomi’s slight change in expression when she parted her lips to answer herself. “she’s just my plus one because bokuto told us to.”

you nod at his words, trying your best to ignore the intravenous relief that was coursing through you at that moment. you realized how long you had been standing there then, failing to notice that yuko was still by your side the entire time. if anything, she was just trying to help you out once again as she could literally feel the rising tension in the air. if you were to talk to satomi any longer, it would surely go wrong knowing your luck. luckily, she spots sugawara’s silvery hair just a few feet away.

yuko wasn’t entirely sure how in the hell she was going to get his attention to save your asses, but it was going to happen one way or another. she was just glad you were too preoccupied talking to iwaizumi and satomi that yuko was able to text sugawara to come over.

she watched sugawara feel the buzzing of his phone in his pocket, observing his every move as he pulls it out and read the text as the screen light shined over his face. he looked up then, eyes scanning the room briefly before landing upon yuko’s familiar figure standing next to yours.

the manager widens to eyes a bit at him like a warning to come over here.

she wasn’t sure what was so hard to understand from the pure helplessness in her expression, but sugawara was taking his sweet ass time.

yuko grumbled to herself. at this point, perhaps she was just trying to save herself.

it was then sugawara was finally making his way over to you and yuko. “oh hey, iwaizumi! long time no see, sorry to interrupt but i need to borrow (y/n) and yuko for a second.”

you gave sugawara a confused look as it washed over your expression. again? ugh, give me a break. however, before you could excuse yourself from the conversation, iwaizumi grabs your upper arm lightly.

“(y/n),” he stops you in place, “we should catch up sometime.”

you open your mouth to respond, but sugawara interjects before you could. “why not catch up now?” he suggests, causing all four of you to snap your head towards him, “i’m sure i’ll just yuko’s help will be enough, plus (y/n) has tons of time to talk to more guests.”

the silver haired man gives you a sly wink before taking yuko with him and leaving you behind. great.

you honestly couldn’t excuse yourself now as it would be obvious why no matter how many excuses you come up with, so you had to power through. besides, what could go wrong with talking with your first love and some random girl that somehow gives you a weird vibe?

“so how do you guys know each other?” satomi questions you, suddenly interested in your relationship with iwaizumi. it sounds suspicious, yet she was genuinely wondering if she was attempting to make moves on someone like iwaizumi was a good idea.

“we went to middle and a little bit of high school together,” you answer as a matter-of-fact. there was surely no need to lie.

her eyebrows rise in curiosity, “that makes sense... you guys must have been really close, huh.”

you flickered a look to iwaizumi, examining his reaction if he was also noticing her off words. “yeah... really close.” his expression melted into confusion then as you placed your gaze back to satomi.

iwaizumi scratched the back of his neck as the words remained at the tip of his tongue. why weren’t you mentioning that you two dated before? it wasn’t like it was a crime nor secret. he hated to think this, but could it be because you regretted your relationship with him?

he shook the thought out of his head quickly. the obvious answer was no as the breakup was mutual, yet after all these years of drifting apart, was that really the truth?

if he recalled correctly, one of the last words you said to him before you inevitably left for tokyo and never looked back was that you love him and would always be there for him no matter what. you even promised to text him as much as possible, yet after months had passed since you moved to your new life, it was as if the promise was nonexistent. however, iwaizumi couldn’t bring himself to blame you. if anything, he had himself to blame considering how many times he had written that same text over and over again, yet never had the courage to send it.

“(y/n) had to move to tokyo after our first year so we kind of drifted.” iwaizumi answers. even now with the chance open for him to mention your previous relationship was out in the open, he was still do cowardly to say it.

perhaps somethings never change.

fun facts! —

iwaizumi wasn’t really keen on using social media back in high school, which explains why he never really found out about (y/n) and bokuto’s relationship

it wasn’t like (y/n) and bokuto liked posting about their relationship either at the time

satomi and bokuto have always been homies after they have gotten closer when bokuto injuredhis knee and had to go to physical therapy, but he never really talked about his past relationships, hence satomi not knowing about (y/n)

taglist: (comment or send an ask to be added!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @skyguy-peach @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @atsunakaashi @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @kaiju-teeth @oh-tapeworm @scrappydaisies @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto scenarios #bokuto smau #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi smau

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pascalpanic · 4 years

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Tik Tok Tyranny (Marcus Moreno x f!Reader)

Part of the Making Moves universe

Summary: Missy has become obsessed with Tik Tok. Luckily for her and not-so-luckily for you, her mini-mom adds many likes to her posts. Marcus gets roped in too.

W/C: 2.6k

Warnings: Language, Missy gets The Full Name when Marcus gets mad. otherwise it’s rlly tame.

A/N: PSHSHRHTS guys this idea has been rattling around my head and I thought it was super cute so I had to do it!! Lots of love to @leonieb for inspiring the first fic in this universe (who knows, maybe there are more to come?), @theteddylupinexperience for helping me out with all of my plot and helping me come up with this idea in the first place, and my babe @softly-sad for simping over Marcus with me and giving me some ideas!!

Missy’s Tik Tok page has been blowing up lately, and most of it is due to you.

It all started when she downloaded the app, showing you and her father the funniest ones she’d found. Many of them consisted of cute animals and bad jokes, since she inherited her father’s sense of humor. Your phone constantly dinged with new messages from Missy, sending you funny videos and recipes.

This morning, you wake to big brown eyes in a tiny head above your bed. “Good morning,” Missy sings. “We’re making a Tik Tok. Up and at ‘em!” She shouts, pulling back your covers.

You groan and roll over, finding Marcus’s side of the bed empty. “Where’s your dad?” You ask with a gravelly voice, eyes fluttering open.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t matter, he’s not gonna be in it. Actually, we do need a cameraman- Dad!” Missy hollers into the hall.

You groan and rub your eyes, reaching for your glasses. “It’s like 7, kid. How do you have so much energy? You don’t even drink coffee,” You ask her, a yawn overtaking your face.

“Because I’ve been planning this since last night,” she says with a grin, ripping the covers back once more. “Come on, please.”

Another yawn. “Fine. What are we doing, hm?” You ask her, eyes opening as you stretch out in bed.

“I’m dressing you for the day,” she sings. “You know those videos?”

“No,” you groan. “There are a lot of videos, kid.”

“You’re annoying,” she pouts and plops next to you. “Your Gen Z bestie dresses you for the day!”

Marcus walks in with two mugs of coffee, and he hands one to you. You smile and thank him and he looks at his daughter with a furrowed brow. “You’re not making her regret moving in, are you?” He teases her.

“No,” she rolls her eyes as you sip your coffee. “We’re making a tik tok. I’m gonna dress her for the day and you’re going to be our cameraman,” she tells him with a grin, handing him her phone. “Alright, let’s go,” she says and stands, hauling you up and almost making you spill your coffee.

“Damn, Missy,” you laugh and stand with her. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

She shrugs. “Uh, wave at the camera. This will be the before shot.” Your hair is messy and tied up, your glasses perched on your nose. You’re wearing a large t-shirt belonging to Marcus and a pair of shorts. You sip your coffee and wave as Marcus records it. “Good, all is going to plan,” Missy grins and leads you along.

That video got a fair amount of likes; it didn’t go completely viral, but you were popular. It made Missy excited beyond belief and she insisted that you make another. “How good are you at dancing?” She asks casually over lunch.

“Oh God, Missy,” you chuckle and shake your head. “Not great, but I can move somewhat easily. What did you have in mind?”

She beams at you. “The scene from Mamma Mia where young Donna is on a boat Bill and they dance around on it!”

You both adore the Mamma Mia movies. They’re what brought you together; Missy needed a female presence in her life besides her grandmother, and one night, after being ditched by her friends, Marcus suggested she text you. You brought her to your house and the two of you watched Mamma Mia while eating pints of Ben and Jerry’s, singing along at the top of your lungs and making jokes at the movie’s expense.

It turns out that the dance isn’t overly complicated. You’ve both watched the movies so many times that it’s almost like second nature to the two of you. You’re practicing the dance to the blasting speakers in the backyard when Marcus finds the two of you. “Hey ladies,” he calls out, but you can’t hear him. The two of you are spinning each other around and laughing as you practice, Missy bonking into you and making you both stop, beaming laughing.

Marcus pulls out his phone and records it for a moment, grinning as he watches it. His two girls having the time of their lives, dancing to the Mamma Mia soundtrack in their shared home. It’s wonderful.

The dance segment ends and you both stop, catching your breath. You grin as you see Marcus and rush over to him, throwing your arms around him. You kiss his cheek before burying your face in his neck. “Hi, snuggles.” It’s your favorite name for Marcus: he’s tall and strong but so cuddly and unbearably soft. You want your arms around him at all times. “I missed you all day, stupid work,” you chuckle.

He wraps his arms around you too. “Missed you too, baby. You and Missy are two great dancers,” he chuckles.

“Please. I look like I’m dying,” you snort, lifting your head and kissing him softly on the lips.

That’s your second Tik Tok video to earn a favorable amount of likes: the video of the dance that Marcus took while you practiced.

The two of you make a new joint account: @missyandminimom. Mini-Mom was her new favorite term for you: you weren’t quite her stepmom yet, not married to Marcus and not a legal guardian to her. But you were like her mom. Thus, Mini-Mom was born.

The video was posted again there and got likes in the thousands, sending you into relative fame. Missy screamed every time she checked the app, her new followers exciting her far more than it excited you.

The next step, Missy decided, was that Marcus needs to be a participant. But not a willing one, or at least not a participant that appears as willing.

“Please Dad, you just need to walk through the background!” Missy begs of Marcus with wide eyes.

Marcus shakes his head but smiles. “You’re not making me dance.”

“Nope! It’ll be just the two of us dancing, and you do whatever you need to in the background. It’ll be funny!”

“Isn’t the point of those things that the people don’t know they’re being recorded?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Just act like you’re not! People will think it’s hilarious, us dancing and you just walking in the background. Everyone will recognize you and we’ll get famous!”

“Fame isn’t the goal,” you clarify to Marcus and to Missy. “We just think it would be funny,” you offer up.

Marcus can’t say no to you. “Well, I suppose,” he groans, and Missy cheers and throws her arms around him.

“You’re the best! I love you so much!” She squeals, letting go and running over to where you stand. “Okay, we’re gonna count down then do the dance, you just walk through the background, stop and look, whatever.”

Marcus nods and you give Missy a high five. “Nice going,” you tease and nudge her side. “Alright, you ready?” You and Missy have been preparing the dance for the past couple of days, and you’re wearing matching outfits now.

“Yeah, here we go,” she squeals and presses the record button. She backs up next to you as the timer beeps.

You start the dance, and Marcus walks dutifully through the background a few seconds in. He stands there for a second, staring at your ass, before wandering out before you complete the dance.

“Woo!” You and Missy both shout as you walk to the camera and check out the video. The dance goes perfect, and you widen your eyes as you look back at Marcus over your shoulder. “Jesus, Marcus,” you tease.

“I got distracted,” he murmurs, blushing, and you run over to him and wrap your arms around him, jumping up and wrapping your legs around him too. He holds you up and kisses the side of your face. “You’re so good with her.”

“She makes it easy,” you laugh and bury your face in his neck.

Missy whips around with her phone and records the two of you, where you stand koala-wrapped on Marcus. “You’re so gross,” she groans and heads off to edit the video.

The video does, indeed, go viral, as people recognize that that’s Marcus Moreno in the background, so that must be his daughter and does he have a girlfriend now? You even found you and Missy on the cover of a digital tabloid, in a shot of you hugging. At least they were kind about you.

The next video is a prank on Marcus. You and Missy spent the day planning it, giggling nefariously as you set everything up. You replaced Marcus’s katanas at home with a pair made of plastic, meaning he can’t summon them with his powers. When he returns home, the trap is laid, and you and Missy follow a loose script.

As you cook dinner side-by-side with your boyfriend, you smile up at him. “You know, you’ve never given me a demonstration of your powers, baby,” you murmur to him and kiss his cheek, continuing to stir the ingredients you’re working on.

“Because at home, I’m just your man,” he says and kisses you softly, cupping your face with one hand. You smile into his lips, and you have to admit that you appreciate it. You didn’t realize he was a Heroic until a few weeks of being his neighbor, when it finally clicked that he wasn’t just Marcus, he and Missy weren’t just the Morenos, he was Marcus. Moreno. He always leaves his work at work and you appreciate it.

“Why are you so fucking cute?” you coo and kiss him again. “Still. Just… do the thing, please, whoosh those katanas over here?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his middle and looking up at him with big eyes.

He sighs and nods. “I suppose.” You can see Missy shooting from around the corner and you sneak her a thumbs up. He stares in concentration, holding out his hand to summon them. Damn, he must be out of practice, he thinks, focusing harder. His lip twitches in frustration as it doesn’t work. “Fuck!” He ends up shouting after a few moments where nothing works, and Missy claps a hand over her mouth.

“Dad!” She exclaims with a laugh. Marcus very rarely curses, if ever, and his eyes widen as he realizes she was filming it.

“Melissa Angélica Moreno, don’t you dare-” he threatens as he realizes what she wants to do with it. It’s going on Tik Tok, whether he likes it or not. He lunges after her and Missy squeals, launching off a chase through the house as Marcus pursues her.

That video got the most likes of all of them. Glimpses into celebrity lives always do, and you knew from the start that Marcus’s videos would garner lots of attention. Lots of people thirsted over him in the comments. Many duets were made of people saying they wished they were you. You only supposed it was fair; who wouldn’t want to be with Marcus?

“Baby?” You mumble late one night in bed.

“What is it?” A sleepy Marcus murmurs next to your ear.

You sigh, rolling over in his arms to face him. “I know you’re famous, and Missy’s Tik Tok isn’t helping either, but you love me, right?”

His eyes open and he frowns. “Where the hell did that come from?” He asks, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms tight around you. “Of course I do.”

There’s still a small frown on your face. “You’re a superhero. You have a ton of people who would line up to date you. Lots of options.”

He chuckles and kisses your forehead. “Baby. I fell in love with you when you were wearing a fuzzy bathrobe and drinking coffee on your porch. How could you ever question how much I love you?” He asks, voice tinged with sadness.

You feel warm inside at his words, scooting closer. “I know. I just… get insecure about it sometimes.”

“You never have to be,” he assures you and kisses your forehead. “I have never and will never love anyone more than you, except Missy. That’s a tie.”

You giggle softly. “I love you so much, baby,” you murmur into his skin.

“I love you too, cutie. Now please go the hell back to sleep.”

“More like a grizzly bear,” you grumble but smile. You fall asleep just like that, your arms around him tight and face nuzzled in his neck.

Two days later, Missy comes flying into your bedroom on a Sunday morning, nearly making Marcus spill his coffee. “You guys!” She squeals. “I just posted a Tik Tok that got the most likes ever, and it’s only been up for like ten hours!”

You groan and scoot away from Marcus so Missy can cuddle in between the two of you. “What did you make now, huh?” You ask as she nestles in.

Missy projects her phone to the screen. She takes your left hand and Marcus’s right, joining them and grinning. “Let me first just say… you’re welcome,” she giggles.

The video starts. my simp-erhero dad and his love🧸✨ flashes across the screen over an image of you on Marcus’s shoulders in their backyard pool.

The video rolls, and it’s about 40 seconds long. A popular love song plays in the back over clips of you and Marcus. You kissing Marcus’s cheek after he found you and Missy dancing to Mamma Mia in the backyard. You, cuddled on top of Marcus on the couch, the both of you napping. You koala-clinging to Marcus after he stared at your ass in that dancing video. Marcus kissing you softly as you cooked dinner and asked him to demonstrate his powers. The last video is of you, Marcus, and Missy at a theme park. Both you and Marcus kiss one of her cheeks in sync, making her giggle. The music fades and the video starts again.

Marcus turns to the two of you, eyes watering. He looks into your eyes first. “Did you help her make that?” He asks.

Your eyes are watering too, grinning. “No.”

He grins down at his daughter, the tears slipping from his eyes. “Missy. That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. What inspired you to make it?”

She has a real answer: it’s that she wanted the two of you to see your relationship the way she did. She wanted to reassure you. She’d heard you that night when you told Marcus you felt insecure.

But Missy is a snarky little preteen, 4’4” of prepubescent rage and glitter. “The likes I knew I’d get,” she shrugs and skips out of the bedroom happily.

Before you can say something loving to Marcus, he takes your face in his and kisses you slowly. You both chuckle into each other’s lips, you breaking away and looking at him with big and happy eyes. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Marcus grins, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Hey, I have a question for you. Well, it’s more of a statement.”

“Go for it,” you nod.

“We should get married,” Marcus says plainly with a smile. “I’ve already asked Missy about it, she thinks we should too. Of course, if you don’t want to, I get that. I know we haven’t been dating as long as other relationships do before marriage, and-”

“Yes,” you grin. “Let’s do it.”

He grins and kisses you, holding both sides of your face in his hands. “You know, the two of us seem to really like rash decisions.”

“They always work out in the end, don’t they?” You ask with a grin.

Marcus kisses you in response. They do, they really do. He breaks away a moment later, grinning and watery-eyed. “I still don’t know what a simp is,” he sniffles.

Taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #we can be heroes #pascalpanic

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skeeter-110 · 4 years

Text

I Dreamt About You Every Night

Tony Stark has been dead for seventeen years due to a mission gone wrong. He's survived getting blown up, palladium poisoning, terrorist attacks, and even Thanos himself, and he gets killed by - what was supposed to be - a simple day-to-day mission. Or, so everyone thought.

|| Chapter One || || Chapter Two || || Chapter Three || || Chapter Four ||

Chapter Five

Truth never damages a cause that is just. - Mahatma Gandhi

"What do you think you're doing?" M.J demands to know as she barges into Peter's lab, Peter looking like a kid that just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar when she began looking at the video he was watching.

"No, Peter, we can't be back to this." M.J says, shaking her head at the same video that she saw the first couple of years Tony was missing. The same video that was playing when she found Peter lifeless. "You have a job, now, and a family that needs you desperately. You cannot become obsessed with this again." M.J scolds.

"I know, Love, I know, and I'm not going to become obsessed again. I just wanted to comb through this one more time, just to make sure we're not missing something now that we know the base is somewhere in New Jersey." Peter explains, making M.J sigh.

"Your kids miss you. You've been down here all day." M.J tells Peter making him the one to sigh this time.

"I'm sorry. I promise I'll make it up to all of you tomorrow. How about when you take Claire to her dentist appointment tomorrow, I'll pick the other two kids up from school and after the appointment you can meet us out for a nice family dinner. Just us, no distractions." Peter offers.

"Just us?"

"Just us." Peter confirms.

"No distractions?"

"Absolutely none at all." Peter says smiling when he saw the grin forming on his wife's face.

"You know what, Tiger, I think you have a deal." M.J says while wrapping her arms around Peter's neck. Peter couldn't resist standing up and planting a kiss on her lips, chuckling a bit at the fact that he was still able to make the "big, bad" Michelle melt.

"How about we call it a night and go to bed?" Peter asks as they slowly pulled away.

"I think you've got yourself another deal."

* * *

"Mr. Parker, you have a visitor." Peter's P.A knocks on the door, her confusion already telling him who said visitor could possibly be.

"It's okay, let him in." Peter permits, quickly double checking his work on his computer before saving it. Something told him he wasn't going to be getting much work done now.

"Hey, Underoos." Tony greets as he walks into the office, Peter only pretending to be annoyed at the nickname; in reality he's been dying to hear Tony tease him again like this.

"Hey, Tony, what are you doing here?" Peter asks not unkindly.

"Oh, just wanted to check out Parker Industries, see what my protégé has accomplished while I was gone. You know, I've heard from Pep that Parker Industries is our top competitor." Tony says, but rather than sounding mad he sounded impressed.

"Yeah, we're usually nipping on your toes because with M.J working at Stark Industries, we don't want to put you guys out of business and have her lose her job." Peter teases right back, smiling at the fake wounded look Tony put on.

"Ouch, Parker, I'm hurt." Tony mock ups, making Peter roll his eyes fondly.

"Would it make you feel better if we went downstairs and looked at some of the R&D labs I got going on here?" Peter offers, Tony pretend to actually think about it.

"Yeah, you know what, I think that would actually do the trick." Tony answers, making Peter laugh as he got up and began leading the way.

He decided to give Tony a full tour of the company, making sure to spend time showing him everything that he managed to create and accomplish over the past decade. After a few hours, when Peter was satisfied Tony saw everything there was to see, both men went down to the company's cafeteria and got a quick bite to eat. "So, have you figured anything else out about the possible location of the base?" Peter asks once they settled down at one of the cafeteria tables. "A bit. I've got it narrowed down roughly, but I still don't know where exactly it could be." Tony answers making both of them sigh

Before anyone could say anything else, Peter's phone began to ring. Peter huffed and pulled his phone out, quickly signaling to Tony to give him a minute when he saw that it was M.J calling him.

"Hey, Darling, what's up?" Peter answers.

'Peter, love of my life, please, please, please, tell me you picked Ben and Annie up from school early.' M.J says, sounding like she was out of breath.

"What? No, it's not time for me to pick them up yet. Wait, why does it sound like you're running? Are you running? Why are you running?" Peter questions, not being able to hold in the worry that he was beginning to feel.

'I'm running because I just got a call from the school saying someone just came and picked Ben and Annie up from school.' M.J says, Peter easily picking up on the fear in her voice as the sound of a car door closing is heard in the background.

"Hey, it's going to be okay. Maybe Nat or Morgan just decided to sign them out and play hooky with them." Peter tries to placate, also trying to convince himself that everything was okay.

‘No, Peter, I have a really bad feeling about this. The secretary said it was some man and he said that he worked with the Avengers so she allowed it, but called me because she wasn't sure and-’ M.J nervously rambles, Peter cutting in and stopping her from working herself into a tizzy.

"Okay, okay, listen to me. You and Claire go home. Don't stop anywhere on the way, don't talk to anyone, not until I get to the school and figure out what's going on." Peter instructs, getting up and signaling to Tony that they needed to go. "I will figure out what's going on, Love, I promise."

'Find our children, Peter Parker. You find our children.' M.J shakily says, clearly trying to put up a mask she no longer was used to having to wear.

"I will. I swear to you, I will. You and Claire just focus on getting home safe." Peter says before exchanging his goodbyes and hanging up. "We need to go to the kid's school, now." Peter tells Tony, putting as much urgency as he could in his voice.

"Why, what's going on?" Tony asks, instantly following Peter when he began walking away.

"Someone picked the kids up from school and we don't know who it is so just to be on the safe side we need to go to figure out who signed them out." Peter explains, both of the men being quick to get up to Peter's office.

"So, why aren't we going up to the school?" Tony questions, watching as Peter sat down at his desk and began doing something on his laptop.

"Because the school's not going to have answers for me - they don't even know who picked the kids up - so I'm going to directly to the source and figure it out myself." Peter answers, smiling when he saw the confusion still sitting on Tony's face. "I'm hacking into the security camera footage." Peter explains, pulling a laugh out of Tony.

"You know, almost two decades have passed, but you, Peter Parker, have not changed a bit." Tony lightheartedly says, coming around and looking over Peter's shoulder at the footage on the laptop.

Peter fast-forwarded through most of the footage, gasping and pausing it when two men began walking in.

"Tony, you said you have a rough estimate to where that base was?" Peter asks as he begins to zoom into one of the men's faces.

"Yeah, why? Who is that?"

"I don't know who he is exactly, but I would recognize him from anywhere. He's one of the men in the video we have from the night you disappeared." Peter tells the scientist.

"Why does he look like that?" Tony questions, completely stunning Peter with the odd change of subject.

"Look like what?"

"Like he's trying desperately to be one of those vampires from that book series." Tony says, Peter gaping at him in return.

"Really? That's what you're worried about? Not that fact that he took my kids, but the fact that he looks like a Twilight character?"

"No, you're right, sorry. So are you sure that this is the guy? I mean, I guess it would be difficult not recognizing him, looking like that." Tony questions, wanting to be certain about this before they go in guns blazing.

"Tony, I have watched that video over a thousand times. Trust me when I say this is him." Peter says, brushing past the comment of his looks again.

"Alright, then suit up. Looks like we're going back to New Jersey."

* * *

"Annie. Annie-May, wake up." Ben whispers to his younger sister, who was still laying on the floor passed out. Looking around the - what looked like - a storage room turned cell that they were in, Ben tried to remember exactly what happened.

He remembered getting called out of class and going into the office to leave, but after that it begins to get a little fuzzy. He couldn't remember who it was that picked him up, but clearly they weren't anyone good or else he wouldn't be sitting here tied up with his youngest sister.

The real questions was, how did they manage to get Ben and Annie to actually go with them, and why couldn't Ben remember anything about it?

"Annie, come on, it's time to wake up now." Ben tries again, trying to reach over and nudge Annie as best as he could. It was a bit difficult though, considering his hands were tied behind his back and he had legs that didn't seem to want to work.

Slowly Annie began to stir, Ben sighing in relief when he saw that his sister was waking up.

"Come on, Annie-May. Wake-up!" Ben continues to say, Annie scrunching up her face in return.

"Leave me alone, Benji. 'M sleepin'." Annie mumbles, causing Ben to huff in return.

"Now is not the time to sleep. Now is the time to figure out where we are." Ben says, confusing Annie enough to convince her to open her eyes. It only took a few seconds of looking around before Annie realized that they were in some sort of trouble.

"Benji, where are we?" Annie asks, struggling to sit up as she did so.

"I have no clue. Someone managed to take us somehow." Ben replies, giving Annie a sympathetic look when she let out a low whimper.

"What do they want from us?" Annie hesitantly asks, going to anxiously suck on her fingers until she remembered that her hands were tied behind her back.

"I don't know. It has to do with wanting something from Dad. You know how people will do anything to get at the Avengers for something." Ben replies, rolling his eyes with as much annoyance as he felt. "Can you break free from those?" Ben asks, nodding his head towards the ropes that were holding Annie's hands back.

Clearly whoever took him and Annie didn't take into consideration that they could have possibly inherited powers from their Father because they were both tied in in plain rope. Although, the only person they really underestimated was Annie; Ben was unfortunately - well, unfortunately to him - born normal.

Annie just nodded before using her strength to bust out of the ropes, rubbing her wrists in order to ease the slight burns there.

"Now hurry up and untie me." Ben commands, turning his hands so Annie can get to them.

"What do we do?" Annie asks once she managed to free Ben's hands from their confines.

"We need to find a safe place to hide. We can't just stay in this cell and hope that the people who took us aren't going to hurt us, but I also can't walk well enough for us to completely leave where we are. So, our safest bet is to just find a random room, lock ourselves in, and wait for Dad to get here with the Avengers." Ben simplifies for the eight-year-old, sighing when he saw tears forming in her eyes.

"Don't cry." Ben pleads, only succeeding in making the tears fall.

"I'm scared." Annie admits to her older brother. "What happens if we get caught before Daddy finds us?" Annie cries, Ben being quick to pull her to his chest to muffle her cries so whoever was guarding them would still think they were passed out.

"We're not going to get caught, I swear to you. We just need to be quick; you need to help me get to another room." Ben says, Annie nodding to show that she understood. "Now listen out in the hallway and tell me if you can hear anyone." Ben directs, pushing Annie towards the door of the cell.

"So, did our oh-so-fearless leader contact the two Avengers?" Annie hears a man's voice ask.

"Nah, he didn't need to. I guarantee that as soon as that Spider-Guy realized his kids are gone he's going to be running right over on over here with Iron Man by his side." A second man says.

"It was really stupid of them to come back to that corn field. I mean, did they really think that we weren't going to be searching every inch of that cornfield for Stark?" The first man chuckles.

"Speaking of which, why aren't you watching to make sure they don't escape?" The second man all but shouts making Annie gasp in fear.

"Because the girl is no older than ten and the boy is crippled. You really think they need to have a close eye kept on them? We're of better use out here to help fight these comic book wannabes." The first voice says, the reply from the second voice being left unheard due to Annie pulling away from the door.

"They don't know I have powers." Annie tells Ben, confirming his suspicion.

"Good, it's good that they underestimated you; it'll make it easier for us to escape. Do you think you can break the handle off the door and get us out of here?" Ben asks, smiling encouragingly when Annie nodded her confirmation.

Slowly, and as quietly as she could, Annie broke the handle in half and pulled it out. Gently, she reached down and helped her brother stand as best as he could before steadily pushing the door open.

"Do you hear anything?" Ben whispers once they both peered around the door and didn't see anyone.

"No one close enough to see us." Annie replies.

"Good, good. Okay, so you see that closet over there? I'm going to need you to help us get over there." Ben instructs, slightly feeling bad when he had to lean most of his weight onto his younger sister.

"Wait, wait, before you open the door." Ben stops his sister once they were standing in front of the room, turning himself to face back down the hall. As soon as he steadied himself against the wall, he took the handle that Annie was thankfully still holding, and chucked it down to the other side of the hall.

"What?! Why would you do that? What was-" Annie began to question her voice shrill with fear. Ben was quick to slap his hand over her mouth, though, pushing both of them into the room and shutting the door as the two men Annie heard from before began to shout and run down the hall.

"Listen, listen to me, I know you're scared, I know, but just - shh, for a second. I had to throw that down there because now they think we've ran down the other hall. They have no idea or suspicion that we're down here now so, shh. It's okay." Ben explains, plopping down on the ground and leaning against one of the lab tables there while simultaneously ignoring the reason for there to be lab tables here.

Before either child could get even remotely comfortable, the ground beneath them began to shake.

"What's happening?" Annie whines as she falls to her knees, crawling over to Ben instead of walking.

"I'm not sure." Ben admits, looking around the room to try and find a safer spot for them. Once he saw that the lab table they were against had an empty storage hole, he began pushing Annie towards it. "Here, crawl into there."

"What about you? You can't fit." Annie cries out, stopping herself from going further into the cubby hole when she realized.

"I'm going to keep guard. Make sure no one's getting in here." Ben says making Annie scoff at him.

"Yeah, because out of the two of us, the kid who can't even walk without crutches is more fit to fight soldiers than the kid with powers." Annie snarks, earning a glare in return.

"You're a baby, you don't know what you're talking about." Ben dismisses, sliding the storage door closed and effectively muffling Annie's protest.

Ben crawled as best as he could to the door, pressing his ear to the door to try and see if he could hear anything. He could hear faint shouts an gunshots in the background, but nothing prepared him for the door to the room swinging right open.

Tag List: @spideyspeaches @lost-lunar-wolf @joyful-soul-collector @hatakehikari @thatcrackheadsadbitchtm

#peter parker #tony stark #irondad #spiderson #fanfiction #michelle jones #adult peter parker #presumed dead

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anti-the-glitch-bitch · 4 years

Text

Into the void

Chapter 2

Word Count: 3,054

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

I am abruptly awakened by an annoying poking in my side. I groan a bit and try to slap the annoyance away. The poking in my side stops, but now there is a finger poking my cheek nonstop.

“Okay. I’m up. Just stop poking me with that infernal finger before I bite it off.” At that moment, maniacal laughter echoes in the closet. “Anti?” I’m still half asleep when I open my eyes. Beautiful blue eyes are looking straight into mine.

“Ha-ha. Still half asleep, are ya?” Sean chuckles as I scramble for my phone. My cheeks are on fire the moment I hear his cute Irish boi accent. After scrambling for what seems like hours, I finally manage to turn the video off. “Yeah, I guess I am. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I must have been super tired from the flight.” I mumble as I try not to freak out again. Sitting up, I look over at Sean and realize he is sitting on the floor. He must have seen my confusion because he scoots back a bit. “I figured if I was sitting on the floor, ya might not throw another loaf of bread at me.”

“Mark is never going to let me live that down. When I die, it will read. Here lies Bri. She threw a loaf of bread at Sean’s face. Sorry about that, by the way. My body went into panic mode and decided to attack?” Sean just laughs at me and starts to stand up.

“Neither of us will. I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes a commemorative video and tells his fans about all of this. I’m just glad it was soft.” Sean smirks and holds a hand out to me. I hesitated very briefly before taking his hand. With a quick tug, Sean has me out of the closet and on my feet. Huh. Sean is a lot taller than I realized. I mean, I didn’t think he was super short, but I thought he was my height. I’m 5’7”, so I’m not exactly short either, but he seems to be about the same size as Mark.

I stretch for a minute, trying to work the kinks out from sleeping in the closet. Sean walks over to the door to give me a bit of space. Which I very much appreciate. I can’t hear the conniving bastard anywhere, and that makes me very concerned. That means he could be plotting my next humiliating moment.

“You know he did that on purpose, right?” My question seems to confuse him. He cocks his head slightly with a questioning look. “He knows I’m a spazz, so Mark waited to tell me you were gonna stay here, at the second, just to see what happened. Though I don’t think it went down exactly as he expected.”

We stare at each other for a moment before we both start to laugh. It takes a few seconds for us to calm down. “That does sound like something he would do. He told me you were staying here for a while, but he didn’t warn me that I would have to watch out for flying objects!”

“Exactly! I’m sure he’s hiding somewhere plotting his next big prank.”

“I don’t think so? He told me he had to finish recording. I figured the least I could do was make your lunch since it looks like I interrupted the two of you. That’s why I came looking for ye.” Sean looks so adorable when he blushes. It’s only a slight tinge, but it stands out on his pale skin. It gives me some ideas for a prank or two in the future. “I don’t think I like the look on your face. That’s the kind of look that Mark has when he is up to something.” He backs into the hallway with his hands up as if I might attack him.

I give him an innocent smile as I follow him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just going to the kitchen.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, we’ll just see about that.” We joke the entire way to the kitchen. My anxiety is all but forgotten.

My eyes must be playing tricks on me because as Sean passes a mirror in the hallway, his reflection seems to flicker. For a second, it looks like Anti, green hair and all. Very strange because he hasn’t dyed his hair in forever. His hair is his natural brown color.

What in the actual fuck is going on with me today? It must be because I fell asleep watching those videos. I’m starting to doubt my sanity. I’ll have to lay off the Dark\Anti obsession for a while. Otherwise, someone might try to commit me to a nuthouse.

“Bri? You ok over there?” My head snaps to the kitchen, where Sean is standing by the island. I realize I’m just standing in front of the mirror. I take one last look into it, but all I see is me. “Um. Yeah. For a minute, I thought I saw….” I shake my head, realizing how crazy I would sound if I finished that sentence. “Nothing. Never mind.” I smile when I walk over and see a plate with a couple of sandwiches on it.

“If you’re sure.” He returns my smile and pushes the plate towards me. There is a flash of some emotion in his eyes before it disappears. Worry? Concern? I shrug it off and go rummage in the fridge for something to drink. Cans of Mountain Dew are sitting on the bottom level. Ah, my sweet addiction. Mark makes fun of me all the time because I usually have one with me. Yeah, it’s terrible to drink if as much as I do, but I really don’t care.

“So, any idea on how long Mark is gonna be holed up there?” I start digging into one of the sandwiches. Sean looks up from his phone and laughs. “How do you feel about being on camera?”

“What?”

“I said, how do you feel about being on camera?” Sean puts his hands on his hips, giving me a giant smile. “Um...Ok, I guess? Why?” I have no idea what’s going through his head, so I’m just going to roll with it.

“Great! Mark’s getting everything ready now, but in 20 minutes, all his fans are goin ta know we are staying here. You’re going to make your first appearance on the channel!” He is so enthusiastic about this that it’s hard to say no to him. “It’ll be great! All you’ll have to do is say hi. Mark probably won’t start recording until we get in the room. So, hurry up and eat. I’m goin ta see if Mark needs any help setting up.” He slaps my back and is practically bouncing as he leaves the kitchen. I watch the mirror as he walks past it, but nothing weird happens.

I really, really, really need to lay off those videos. They’re making me hallucinate. Either that or the flight messed me up more than I thought. I sigh and start thinking about this new development that Mark has thrown at me unexpectedly. I should have known Mark would have more than one trick up his sleeve. First, it was Sean, and now it’s getting me on camera. I really am going to murder him. Slowly. Like maybe Criminal Minds style. Munching on the sandwiches, I start scheming at ways to get back at Mark. I’m just finishing the second sandwich when my phone goes off.

Mark: Hey, you finished yet?

Bri: Just finished. Why?

Mark: We have everything set up. We’re just about ready for you to come in.

Bri: Give me 10 min. Let me brush my raggedy ass hair and maybe put on a new top.

Mark: Let me know when you’re done.

I put my plate in the sink and grab my drink. Rushing upstairs, I hear laughter coming from down the hall. It sounds like the guys are having fun. When I get to the guest bedroom, I immediately start looking in the duffel bag for my brush. It only takes a few seconds to find it. My hair is short, black with forest green highlights thrown in here and there. It doesn’t take very long to get it thrown up in a high ponytail.

Next, I rummage through the suitcases until I find my Loki shirt. I head to the bathroom to make sure I look semi-decent. The hairs on the back of my neck start standing up, and I get the creepy sensation that somebody is watching me. The mirror doesn’t show anything, but I look around me because I be paranoid like that. There’s really nothing in here with me, but the sensation only gets stronger.

“Back off, ya spooky bitch!” I sort of whisper/shout in the bathroom. I still can’t find anything here, but it never hurts to set boundaries, in case of, you know…. ghosts. That weird feeling fades away, and I feel like I can breathe again.

Well, that’s not terrifying at all. I check the mirror one last time, grab my drink, and head to Mark’s recording room. I can hear Sean’s voice but can’t make out what he is saying.

Bri: Yo. I’m outside the door.

Mark: Come on in.

“What’s happenin Cap’n?” I saunter into the room and see Mark and Sean sitting at the desk that’s along the far wall. They both turn to look at me with a slight smirk. There is an extra chair by Mark that I head towards.

“Hey, guys!! I know you thought Sean was the surprise guest, and he is, but I have someone else I want to introduce you to. This is my best friend, Bri. We grew up in Cincinnati, and she has finally decided to come for a visit.: Mark laughs into the camera as I give him a push.

“Hardy har har. It’s not my fault you moved so far away, you little shit. Keep it up, and I’ll start posting pics. You thought the Septiplier ship had sailed before? It’ll be 20 times worse once I send these bad boys out into the world.” Mark starts groaning while Sean holds his hands up.

“Whoa. Whoa. Hold it there. Don’t bring me into the equation. I didn’t do anything. I’m pretty sure that ship doesn’t need any more references.” We giggle, and I start looking at the screens in front of me.

One monitor has a bunch of technical stuff up along with a box showing the three of us. Another screen has a chatbox that seems to be really active. Comments are flying by so fast that it’s tough to read, though one reoccurring word catches my eye. Checking my phone really quickly, my suspicion is confirmed. “Hey, so I have a question I need to ask everyone watching.” I stand and get behind Mark. I place my hands on his shoulders and start squeezing. Not enough to hurt but enough for me to feel him tense a little. “How mad would y’all be if I murdered our Markimoo here? I was under the impression I would be on a video, not walking into a Live stream.”

I give Sean a smirk that instantly puts him on guard.” Neither did Sean. I’m thinking that they might need to beg for forgiveness.”

“He told me not to tell you!!” Sean instantly points his finger at Mark while laughing. “I’m too adorable to be murdered, plus I was afraid if I told you, you wouldn’t show up, and then people would think I was crazy.” Mark leans his head back, giving me puppy dog eyes.

“Fineeeeeee. I won’t murder you, but you’ll have to make it up to me with a very incriminating picture. I’ll be taking the picture so I can post it later, and you won’t be able to delete it.” I ruffle the hair on his head as I get back to my seat. They both give a big dramatic groan. “Now, do you see why I wanted her to show up, though I am slightly regretting it.” His gestures get wilder the more animated he gets. It’s all I can do not to rub my hands together and cackle like a witch.

The stream goes on like this for a few hours. The three of us crack jokes and play a few games together. I watch the chat and answer the questions I can catch. Sometimes they are about me, but a lot are about Mark and Sean. Most of those are just about wanting a shout-out from the guys.

It’s about 6 pm when I finally have to call it quits. Even with the nap I had, I was tired. “Alright, everyone, I enjoyed being here with you guys, far more than I thought I would, but I’m outta here. It was my first time going across the country, and my body is yelling at me for it.” I wave my hand at the camera and try to suppress a yawn. Mark and Sean make cute little pouts and give a fake sigh. “Aww, well, if you must. Everyone give Bri a round of applause. She is a natural in front of the camera. I might even have her join in some of my other videos.”

I take a bow and walk sluggishly towards the door. As I open the door, I feel a hand gently lay itself on my shoulder. I throw an elbow back, thinking it’s Mark, but I don’t make contact with anything. I quickly turn around and make karate-chopping motions, but no one is near me. The guys are still at the desk. Sean looks back at me and starts laughing. “What the fuck are ya doin? I thought you were leavin?”

I do a few more karate chops, just to be funny before I straighten up. “I’m pretty sure a spider tried to attack me; I’m showing it who’s boss. I doubt it will ever try that again, now that it knows I have mad skills.” Mark and Sean laugh and go back to what they are doing. I continue on my way out, severely freaked out. Chica is lying just outside the door, and when she sees me come out, she starts wagging her tail.

“Who’s a good girl? That’s right, you are the bestest doggo in the world!” I love on her a bit and then pat my leg to get her to follow. “Come on, girl. Let’s go outside for a bit. This house is being a spoopy bitch, and I don’t like being inside a horror game.”

We make it outside without an incident. I immediately go flop in the grass on my stomach. I’ve been here less than 24 hours, and I’ve seen some weird shit in the house. I would chalk it all up to ghosts, but that doesn’t explain why I saw Anti in that mirror. I know I still haven’t been sleeping but a few hours here and there, but that shouldn’t make me see things, should it?

There is no way the egos are real. They’re just something Mark and Sean made up. I may like the concept of them, but there is no way I want to meet Anti or Dark for real. Chica comes over to me, trying to lick my face, causing me to laugh. “Alright, girl. Let’s go back into the spooky house because I need some sleep. If I can…” We go inside, and I go back to the guest room. I don’t even bother changing into my pj’s. I just flop into the bed, falling right to sleep.

The Darkness is alive.

My heart is in my throat as I jerk awake. The dreams are all a blur, but I vaguely remember the Darkness trying to hurt me. The bedroom is pitch black, and I struggle to find my phone on the side table. After searching for what seems like hours, I finally find it and check the time. It’s only 3 am, way too early to be up.

I can’t sleep anymore, so I get up to get a drink. Not sure if it’s remnant feelings from my dreams, but the darkness in the house feels alive. Almost suffocatingly so. I’m paranoid and jumpy as I walk to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I open the fridge and grab the milk. I really don’t need any sugar right now. After filling the glass, I put the milk back. That weird, creepy feeling is back, and I fucking hate it so much. I quickly close the fridge and turn around, punching the air in front of me.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I came here to get away from my life for a bit. Whatever you are, I don’t care! I haven’t even been here a day, so you need to quite with the spooky shit before I lose my damn mind!” I accentuate that with a few karate chops wildly thrown around.

A deep chuckle seems to come from all around me, making me run for the hills. I leave the milk and make a beeline for the stairs. I grab a pillow and the blanket from my bed and run for Mark’s room. The Darkness pulses as if alive, making me a trip on the blanket. I quickly right myself and quietly enter Mark’s room.

Mark’s bed is high enough off the ground that I can throw the pillow under the bed. I wrap myself in the blanket and slide under the bed. Like a child that knows the monster in the dark is real, I make sure every part of me is covered, including my head. This wasn’t going to be a comfortable place to lay, but I wasn’t staying in my room while this spooky stuff is going on. I was so going to talk to Mark about this in the morning.

“It’s not real,” I mumble to myself over and over again. Every once in a while, I throw in a “Leave me alone.” It feels like forever before everything starts to feel normal again, and I can fall back asleep.

A precious, dreamless sleep.

#darkiplier #antisepticeye #markiplier #jacksepticeye #spooky #horror #ao3 fanfic

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rynhaswritersblock · 4 years

Text

quaranteens (hc) | p.p.

summary: how you and petey boi spend your quarantine <3

i'm not even writing a warning for this one at this point y'all now how i write HAHA

+ + +

- covid-19

- coronavirus

- lil shitbag asshole virus

- Y'ALL KNOW THE DEAL

- it's QUARANTIME WITH Y/N AND PETER

- let's get it !

being quarantined with peter parker at avengers headquarters

- lots of animal crossing

- like lots

- you and peter visit each other's islands and it's SO FUNNY

- you keep BONKING each other on the head with your nets

- you shake a tree and a wasps nest falls out

- naturally you yell "SHIT" and steve yells "LANGUAGE"

- so you start fucking SPRINTING (in the game lmao) TO RUN AWAY FROM THE WASPS

- AND POOR PETER GETS STUCK IN THE MIDDLE OF IT

- AND THE WASPS START FOLLOWING HIM

- AND HE GETS BIT

- you start fucking WHEEZING

- you cannot breathe

- peter just sets the switch down and throws his head back, letting out an annoyed groan/yell

- "bitch ass motherfucker" he whispers as he picks the switch back up

- let's not forget to mention the fact that

- the entire time you and peter are playing

- the two of you are like intertwined

- most of the time your head is in his lap or vice versa

- like y'all get into the WEIRDEST POSITIONS on the couch

- sometimes steve or tony or nat or any of them really will walk by and be like "wtf... kinda cute doe"

- but it's so comfy!!!!!!

- and when y'all play at night it's of course in your rooms

- usually it'll start with the two of you separated

- and then one of you is usually like "why the fuck are we apart right now" and goes into the other's room

- then y'all will get all close to each other and play and there'll just be occasional giggling and tiny conversations and cussing here and there

- peter just starts to HARASS one of ur villagers

- you get a little upset but it's AL so you're like... lol not my problem

- one day peter shows you this tiktok where some couple was playing together and it was like "how me and my bf are spending quarantine apart"

- AND THEIR CHARACTERS ARE LIKE... FUCKING

- BUT ANIMAL CROSSING STYLE

- ANIMAL CROSSING: NEW HORIZONS. RATED E FOR EVERYONE!!!!!!!!

- but you and peter find it SO FUNNY

- SO NATURALLY

- you know what's coming

- YOU AND PETER COPY THEM

- irl the two of you are DYING in his bed

- like rolling all over the place because you're laughing so hard

- peter uses a popper as... you know... and you YELL CAUSE YOU LAUGHED SO HARD

- also it's 4 in the fucking morning

- MEANWHILE

- on the OTHER SIDE OF THE HALL

- sam is FED UP

- !!

- he's like what in the everloving HELL are they DOING!!!

- so

- the man enters the premises like

ಠಿ_ಠ

"what the hell are you two-"

"look!"

- you can barely get that word out because of your laughter

- but you hold up the switch

- sam watches and realizes RIGHT AS PETER USES ANOTHER POPPER

- HE SEES THAT YOU'RE LIKE LAYING DOWN ON THE BED AND HE'S STANDING IN FRONT OF YOU AT YOUR FEET

- the LOOK on his face

- he fucking smiles and buries his face in his hands, shaking his head

- when he finally composes himself his eyes are fucking

watering

"i might just have to get that game.."

- okay that's it for the animal crossing section of this imagine lol i'm obsessed with this game AND I DON'T EVEN HAVE IT

- I HAVE WATCHED FAR TOO MANY VIDEOS

- OKAY MOVING ON!!!!!!!!!!

- the AMOUNT of TV the two of you watch

- the two of you alternate shows you pick (so like peter chooses then you then peter etc etc)

- peter chooses b99 (bae)

- y'all finish that shit in a WEEK

- then you recommend euphoria

- he's like uh okay

- cause he knows how inappropriate that show is lol

- so every time there's a dick on the screen he covers your eyes

- and every time there's b00bies on the screen you cover his

- and some point he's like

"y/n you do realize that i've seen boobs before"

- you're like

- i mean yeah but i refuse to think about that because you're supposed to be innocent and pure and a puppy dsfjkdfnkj

- so you retort

"and you do realize that i've seen a dick before?"

- peter is the more jealous baby

- he pauses the show and shifts his body towards you

"wait, where?"

- you cringe

"some kid i'd just met sent me a dick pic.."

- peter's like okay convo over

- the two of you keep watching but now it's more uncomfortable

- at the end of the episode you were watching (imma say episode two lol)

- you bust out laughing

"you know the kid's dick was like... small, right? like i didn't enjoy receiving that picture? it was unsolicited, peter"

- he laughs lightly

"yeah, okay"

- you poke his cheek

"someone's jealous"

- he gasps

"i am NOT jealous!"

"you just don't like the fact that i've seen a dick"

"i guess, yeah"

"peter, i'm going to eventually"

- the poor kid is like we need to stop talking about penises right the fuck now

- SO YOU TWO KEEP WATCHING

- im so sorry for writing that part in haha it just came to mind and it's CONTENT you know and i really feel like it's a realistic convo to have in that situation

- the last episode makes you cry and you don't even realize you're crying until peter holds you closer and wipes the tear off your cheek

- bae

- let's just say the two of you finished euphoria in a day

- okay also

- DANCE PARTIES!!

- the amount of dance parties the two of you had... insurmountable

- like y'all would be training together and a bop would come on and you'd stop punching just to jump around and make complete fools of yourselves

- the two of you had to have a dance party after finishing euphoria because that shit put you in a FUNK

- but yeah

- dance!!!!!!!!!!!

- okay BAKING!!!!!

- y'all made so much food

- cookies

- cake

- pretzels

- brownies

- like

- never going hungry

- half the time the kitchen is a whole MESS but it's okay cause when you do clean it up you and peter throw bubbles at each other and it's great

- steve swears everyone is going to get so out of shape

- so he comes up with a system

- everyone gets snack time together and then thirty minutes later everyone goes and trains to make up for the extra calories

- and lemme just say

- the training sessions go HARD

- everyone is fucking sugar high it's the most chaotic thing ever

- music blaring

- sam and bucky are wrestling

- tony and steve are arguing in the corner (award for most calories burnt)

- nat and wanda are fighting bruce and pietro and nearly kill each other

- meanwhile you and petey boi are seeing who can do the most complicated gymnastics set

- as soon as the boy does a layout you're like okay BYE

- so yeah

- baking!!!!!!

- time for even more fluff

- cuddling

- oh

- my

- god

- you and peter LITERALLY NEVER LEAVE EACH OTHER

- the two of your are in physical contact 99% OF THE TIME

- and that's mainly peter's fault because he lowkey clingy but YOU LOVE IT

- the two of you build a fort in the commons and have movie marathons along with your tv marathons

- occasionally one or more of the team will come chill with y'all

- there's an overall "no judgment zone" that has been declared at headquarters

- aka mind ya own fucking business

- unless someone is literally in a deep state of depression then something needs to be done

- but like

- literally everyone notices how often the two of you are just intertwined with each other

- it's 🅱razy

- also y'all order tons of pizza

- like tons

- thankfully u and peter are like ayo fast metabolism check! (smh i wish lol once i quit soccer it really hit me OOPS)

- OH AND SCHOOL

- y'all are switched to online school

- you and peter-man get really competitive with it to see who can finish all their work the fastest

- thing is the two of you literally have pretty much identical schedules so you end up going at the same pace to work together

- maybe you help each other on quizzes and tests

- no one will ever know

- and overall you two are lowkey thriving in that department because you end up finishing your work for the week in like two or three days and have the rest of the time to just VIBE

- a/n y'all i seriously recommend actually doing that like i get a SUPER big workload at the beginning of the week and as soon as i can i just ZOOOOOM and try to get it all knocked out and it's honestly really helpful

- obviously this can be really difficult for people who aren't self motivated and maybe depressed but i would just try!! if you can!! okay note over BACK TO THE SHITS N GIGGLES

- so yeah

- i don't really have anything else to say but

- overall being quarantined with peter and the team is really nice and the vibes are THERE

- fuck i got another idea

- okay

- it's the middle of the night and you and peter are watching some movie that netflix autoplayed

- the two of you get a notification and look at your phones at the same time

UPDATE: Midtown School of Science and Technology has now been shut down for the rest of the 2019-2020 school year. Online school will continue.

- the two of you visibly shrink

- deadass

- like you just slump over and toss your phone

- you curl up into the boy and a tear rolls down your cheek cause it finally hits you

- this shit is real..

- you sniffle and peter immediately turns to you and wipes your cheek

"hey, it's okay. i'm here."

"i don't know, i just... miss everyone, i guess."

- he nods

- and then he kisses you

- oh so softly

- i'm here

- ...

- okay MOMENT OVER I CAN'T TAKE HOW SERIOUS THAT WAS

- BASICALLY AFTER THAT YOU TWO DON'T REALLY DECLARE ANYTHING BUT YOU DO SPEND A LOT OF QUARANTINE MAKING OUT.... OOPS

+ + +

thank u for reading loves

MWAH

#peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagines #marvel #mcu #spiderman #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #fanfic #fluff #writing #peter #parker #thomas holland

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sylvesterlestermanchester · 4 years

Text

Love is the Fulfilling of the Law

Summary: Dan’s happy in his relationship with Phil. If only everything else could start to fall into place, that’d be great.

Word Count: 5,700

Genre: Humor, fluff, angst. Isn’t that life?

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of homophobia, allusions to conversion therapy.

A/N: This won’t make much sense unless you read the first fic in the Fearfully and Wonderfully verse, Fearfully and Wonderfully! (I was really creative with that title huh.) Also, ty for all the love on the past two fics! I don’t have much free time to write these, so I appreciate a few people actually saw it lol.

Dear God.

Hey, God, it’s me.

Our father, who art in heaven...

Wait, am I supposed to pray to God? Or Jesus?

Dan let out a quiet groan, burying his face in his hands. It was way too early in the morning to be thinking, let alone trying to connect with a higher power.

Why couldn’t Dan pray like Phil did?

Yeah, Dan could’ve asked his boyfriend for help with this. His boyfriend, literally the most religious person Dan had ever met. His boyfriend, who had plans for seminary. His boyfriend, who...his boyfriend…

A sleepy grin spread across his face as he pushed all other thoughts out of his mind and snuggled up closer in his boyfriend’s arms, their bodies squeezed together on the tiny twin mattress that barely fit just one of their lanky bodies. In the month that they had been dating since coming back from the retreat, Dan still wasn't tired of calling Phil his boyfriend-when nobody was around, of course.

“Boyfriend…” Dan sang quietly as he moved to play with Phil’s shaggy hair, biting back a laugh as he received a quiet snore in response. “Oi, boyfriend.”

“Shush your hush.” He hears back after a moment, voice low and tired, but still fond. “Shush your hush?”

“Mmm.” “Wow, quite eloquent. Shush your hush. I’ll write it down for later, so you can-”

“Shush!” Phil suddenly rolled on top of Dan, pressing a sloppy, wet kiss to his cheek.

“Wha-Phil, guh-ross!”

“It’s what you get.” Phil laughed, nuzzling his nose into Dan’s hair.

The sleepy cuddles only last a bit longer before they force themselves out of bed, getting ready for class. It’s only when Dan tugs on a new shirt and catches a glimpse of Phil kneeling beside the bed and looking up at the ceiling that he remembers why he woke up early to pray-or at least try to.

Phil looks...peaceful. Transcended, almost, from their cozy but cluttered dorm room. Part of Dan winces for his knees, but part of Dan is jealous. This is something so deep, so meaningful to him, and it’s something Dan feels this need to share with him.

How could he be with Phil if he can’t even share the most important thing in his life with him? He’s pulled out of his thoughts this time by Phil’s soft giggle. “Are you watching me?” He asks softly, pushing himself to his feet and moving over to wrap his arms around Dan’s waist.

“W-What? No. Just zoned out. I need coffee.” He whined, running a hand through Phil’s hair and pushing it back lightly.

“You were creeping on me, creeper.” Phil giggled and tickled Dan’s side lightly, watching as he squirmed.

Before Dan can argue back, Phil leans closer and presses a lazy kiss to his lips. One month in, his knees still weaken as he feels his boyfriend’s soft lips on his.

“C’mon, we should get going.” “We could just kiss the day away.” Dan murmurs. “We could. But I could also buy you coffee and we can try to focus on these midterms you guys keep warning me about.” Dan grumbled and pressed a quick peck to his lips before pulling away reluctantly. He was dreading the mid-semester exams that were coming up just a couple weeks from now, and he knew Phil wouldn’t be prepared at all, considering he hadn’t even known they were a thing until last week.

Once they gather their things and share a final kiss (okay, three) they both pull away, Phil smoothing his shirt down and Dan fixing his hair before they step out into the hall.

Phil trails behind-close, but not too close. Far enough away that they look like just roommates. Close enough that it keeps Dan from reaching back and tugging him into his arms, just wanting to envelop himself in Phil.

It’s when they’re walking that Dan sees the glint of the silver cross necklace bouncing against Phil’s chest, and his eyes trail from that up to the clouds in the sky, finally getting as close to a prayer as he figures he’s going to get.

Hey, God. Speak to me, yeah? If for nobody else, for Phil.

“Okay, I’ve done the math-we can do this! With a week left before everyone’s first exam, we just need to keep up the studying, and-and maybe sleep, like, three hours less a night each.” Phil rambled, hands shaking from the abundance of caffeine rushing through his veins. He looks up from his calculator before looking at Louise and Dan across the booth, a nervous smile on his face as he tries desperately to cheer up his sullen friends. “Y’know, three hours isn’t even that much, especially if we work really hard and study non-stop. These tests should be easy then, right?” PJ chuckled dryly, rubbing his temples slowly. “You sound insane. You really never had to take tests in your little homeschool world up North?” He asked, pawing through the mountain of books in front of them. The fun “study session” that Phil had suggested had devolved into madness once the sugary coffee drinks had gone through their system, and Phil was desperately trying to scrape it back together.. “Well, not really. Once a year, we did this one just to prove we were actually learning. And then I took that weird G-C-E test or whatever, but I didn’t even take that seriously, because I barely knew what it was. But I must’ve done okay, because I ended up here, right?”

Louise stared at him before groaning. “Only you could half-ass the GCSEs and manage to score high enough to get a fucking huge scholarship.” Louise rolled her eyes playfully as she reached out and ruffled his hair. “The rest of us are doomed. Hey, Speaking of the North, why didn’t Chris show up, again?”

Phil giggled a bit as PJ shrugged, slurping his Frappuccino. “Just said he couldn’t make it, that’s all.” “He’s been ‘busy’ a lot lately.” Louise rolled her eyes gently. “He’s gonna bomb if he just stops studying.”

“What is he even doing?” PJ raised his eyebrows. “Seriously, I’m getting concerned-”

“Less gossip, more studying, c’mon!” Phil interrupted suddenly, shaking his head quickly.

Louise and PJ rolled their eyes but reluctantly grabbed their pens, but Dan is too focused on Phil’s slightly trembling hands thumbing through his textbook. His nearly-neurotic obsession with studying wasn’t anything new-Phil had been studying a lot lately, breaking both the coffee and all-nighter limit they had set earlier that semester.

Dan...well, he wasn’t exactly doing the same.

Pre-law was boring as fuck. Dan could feel his soul dying every time he went to a seminar. He couldn’t stand anyone else in his major. His eyes glossed over if he read case studies for more than 15 minutes, and if it came between studying and, well, literally anything else, he would gladly take anything else.

Especially when that anything else was kissing Phil.

Kissing Phil sounded really good right now. If their friends hadn’t been around, he’s sure he would’ve dragged Phil out of here by now and to one of the dozens of hidden corners of their campus for a good secret-kissing session. In fact, he’s tempted to make up some excuse and pull Phil away now when Louise nudges him.

“Earth to Dan? Dan, aren’t you slipping in this class? C’mon, stop zoning out and get to work.” “You’re slipping?” Phil frowns, head jerking up. “Oh, Dan, why didn’t you say anything? You know I would’ve helped you study.” Dan groans under his breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll do it. I can’t help that it’s just so incredibly dull and stupid and-” PJ rolled his eyes. “We get it, you hate it. Less bitching, more studying, all of us.” Dan ducks his head down and begrudgingly starts to read along with the rest of them. He doesn’t miss the way Phil’s eyes glance over at him, offering him a sympathetic smile. If he had to, he would. If only just so he could trudge through it and get to the other side already.

After a moment of debating, he glances up at the ceiling. God, if you’re there-let me get through this?

“Remand.” “I want to re-mand you that you’re my boyfriend, not my tutor.” Dan flashed Phil a grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

His grin wavered a bit as Phil shook his head, biting his bottom lip and giving him a stern look.

“Remand.” He repeated firmly, and Dan sighed.

“Um...the case in the court below it was incorrect?”

Phil shook his head. “Close, it’s actually-” He gets cut off by a dramatic groan from Dan, only muffled as Dan buried his face in their mattress. “Dan, I know you had your English exam today, but this law test is in two days. You need to-”

“Give me another one.” He snaps, and Phil sighs.

“Preemption.”

“That’s not a word.” “Dan, yes it is.” Phil says, voice softening as he reaches out and rubs Dan’s back. “Head up. What does it mean?” “Wait....is it when two courts, can-can...they can hear the same case at the same time?” Dan asks hopefully, looking at Phil, who’s grimacing.

“Not-Not exactly.” Before Dan can start up again, he quickly jumps in. “Let’s try an easy one-Plaintiff.” “Who even cares?” Dan snapped, kicking his feet childishly. He’s being annoying, he knows. He knows it’s late, and Phil has his own studying to do, and that he’s just trying to help. But Phil’s been on him since their study session last week when Louise let it slip that Dan wasn’t doing well in this class.

“I care, Dan.” Phil sighed, looking down and speaking quietly. “I-I just want you to do well. I’m praying for you and everything, but you gotta put some work in as well.” That shuts Dan up.

“You’re praying for me?” He asked quietly. “I mean, I pray about you all the time.” Phil lays back down and gently pulls Dan with him. “But yeah, I’m praying for you. You just-you don’t seem happy with what you’re studying, and I just want you to be happy and successful. So I’m praying you find that.”

Dan pauses, not sure how to react. He doesn’t have a chance to when Phil gently adds “Even if...even if that means not doing law.” At that, Dan turns to look at Phil. “Don’t say that.”

“Seriously, Dan, if you want to study something else-” “Phil, drop it. I mean it.” “Fine, fine.” Phil pulls away, rolling off the bed and padding over to his desk. “You take a break, I’ll study on my own.” Dan curls up slightly into himself, his stomach turning. Phil sounded...defeated, almost. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe Phil was more stressed than he was letting on. And Dan was only adding to it, oh God, what a fuck-up he was- “Pray with me?” Dan blurts out suddenly.

Phil freezes mid-highlight before turning to Dan, eyebrows furrowed.

“You just...you look so calm when you do. It’s worth a shot, right?” Dan says, but it’s a weak lie. He doesn’t just want the calm Phil has. He wants that relationship with a God, that spiritual awareness. He wants to feel close to Phil in the way that seems to keep them apart, moreso even than the physical distance that they keep when out in public.

After a moment Phil’s expression softens and he gives Dan the kind smile that always makes him melt. Before Dan knows it he’s back on their bed, pulling Dan close. “Why don’t we do the Daily Examen?” “More exams?” Dan raised an eyebrow, smiling as Phil giggled.

“Examen. It’s a guided prayer. It helps me when I’m all over the place and can’t think as clearly.”

Dan nods a bit, taking Phil’s hands and watching as his eyes fall shut. “Dear God...we’re now entering a space where you’re with us.” Dan watches as Phil takes a deep breath before realizing he should probably close his eyes, too.

Phil starts them by listing their gratitudes (coffee, a kind professor who let Dan finish the last bit of his essay despite being over the time limit, a sunny day), focusing on emotions (Dan’s a bit surprised with how empathetically Phil agrees with Dan’s overwhelment), picking one area to pray (peace), and then their hopes for the next day (just to get through it).

As he leads Dan, Phil gets that serene smile on his face, and Dan opens one eye slightly to watch him. He wants what Phil has, really. But he can’t shake the feeling that, well, they’re just talking to someone who isn’t there.

When Phil opens his eyes, he gives Dan a slightly hopeful look. “Better?”

“I feel...calmer,” Dan says, and it’s true. He feels a bit better, but he’s not sure that it’s as much because of the prayer or because of Phil’s soft, guiding voice.

“Good. Now, let’s forget about vocab, yeah? We can study more tomorrow. Let’s get some rest.” He presses a gentle kiss to Dan’s forehead, and suddenly Dan feels the guilt build up further. He wants to feel this sense of closeness, and he’s pretty sure by the relaxed grin on Phil’s face he wants it as well.

“Night, love.” Dan whispers, watching as Phil snuggled up close before drifting off. With a sigh, Dan looks up at the ceiling.

Okay, God, I had Phil with me this time. He thinks, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. And you still can’t talk to me? Give me a break here, yeah?

Dan and Lou stand in the cold a couple days later when they're outside the church for study group, waiting for Phil.

PJ had to cram right before an art exam, which seemed like an oxymoron to Dan, but he couldn’t be envious of how cool that sounded. They both had tests-Phil a math exam that he was surprisingly confident about, and Dan’s law exam, which, well…

“How’d it go?” Phil asked cheerfully as he jogs up to them both, and despite the heavy feeling in Dan’s chest as he flashes back to the test-he had barely finished in time, and he knew that a lot of guessing was involved.

“It’s law. But, um, you know. Decent.” Dan lies with a small shrug. Louise quirks her eyebrow subtle, a trait that Phil doesn’t seem to pick up on as Dan asks about his exam and smiling as Phil lights up.

“Good! I know I nailed the extra credit. I’m exhausted, but-” “Chris? Hey, I thought you said you weren’t going to come!” Louise says as Chris walks over. It’s only then that Dan realizes he hasn’t seen him for more than a passing wave in the halls for about two weeks now.

All their study sessions, and group de-stresses, and snack runs, Chris hadn’t been there. But here he is, Bible in hand and with a weird grin on his face.

“You know me!” He says, sounding just a bit too cheerful. “Unpredictable Chris. Let’s get inside, yeah?”

Phil watches as he makes his way through the chapel. “Oh-yeah, that sounds good. How is everything, by the way? It seems you’ve gone MIA-”

Chris waves him off. “I’m here now, Phil, c’mon. I need some snacks.”

They head down the stairs and make their way to sit in their regular seats, Phil and Dan exchanging quick glances. After a few minutes, they begin-brief introductions, a few announcements, and finally the starting prayer.

Before Caroline can direct them to a verse to study for the day, Chris butts in. “Can I ask a question?”

Both Phil and Caroline smile widely and nod, and Chris flips open his Bible.

“I was reading some 1 Samuel, about David and Jonathan.” He starts, gripping the book tightly in his hands. He taps a bit of a highlighted text, raising his eyebrows. “And they talk about how “David loved Jonathan more than women,'', and how, and I quote, ‘the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David’. I mean...they were gay, weren’t they?”

The group seems a little taken aback by Chris’ bluntness, and Dan doesn’t need to look over to sense Phil shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Caroline jumps in quickly. “I-I mean, people have interpreted it that way, yes. But they could have just had a deep, brotherly bond-”

Chris’ snort cuts her off. “I dunno, it seems pretty gay to me. I mean, they literally start smooching it up.”

“I think that they were gay, actually.” A girl across the room says with a shrug. “I mean, there had to be gay people back then. And Chris is right. They seem to act pretty romantically.” “You really think so?” A guy furrows his eyebrows. “I never read it like that. Judas kisses Jesus, but they weren’t gay.” “Yeah, well, I guess that’s not exactly the point. Here’s my question. How can you guys read and live by this book, but even though you claim that God is all-loving, some of you guys hate gay people?” The group falls silent, but that seems to only spur Chris on further.

“Seriously. You guys talk so much about loving God, and God loving us, and loving brothers and sisters, but what if somebody in here was a guy, who happened to love guys? Like…” Dan holds his breath, eyes wide as he stares at Chris.

“Like me?” He continues. Dan blinks a few times, looking equally as stunned as everyone else as his eyes dart around the room.

“Well-we want to be tolerant of everyone in here, so let’s start off with that.” Caroline jumps in again, but Chris shakes his head and barks out a laugh that doesn’t sound funny at all.

“I don’t want to be fucking tolerated, I want to be respected, and loved, and cared about-not just in spite of my sexuality, but because of my identity.”

Chris stands to his feet, gritting his teeth as he slams the Bible shut and starts pacing around the circle. “It really, really fucking hurts when people don’t respect that. It hurts when I have to hear from my friends-” With that he whirls around, walking over to Phil suddenly.

“Chris…” Phil whispers, sinking down in his seat somewhat as he looks up at him.

Chris stops in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down at him. “When my friends talk so much about loving one another, but I’m not sure that they would love me if I was authentic with him.”

Phil sucks in a deep breath, slowly standing up. “Chris.” He says, voice shaking. “Chris, I promise I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well, forgive me for being nervous.” Chris snaps. “I mean, you-Phil!”

Chris lets out a small yelp as Phil suddenly tackles him in a tight, desperate hug. The entire group is watching their every movement. Dan feels like his heart is going to explode. Finally, Phil pulls away, still holding both of Chris’s hands in his.

“Chris, if I haven’t shown you that I love you dearly as one of my greatest friends, I have f-failed you. As a friend. As a man. And as a follower of Christ.”

“You haven’t failed-” Chris laughed shakily, trying to hide the fact that his eyes were welling up, but then he looks shocked as a small sob erupts from Phil.

“I love you s-so dearly, Chris.” He says, quickly trying to control himself. “ ‘If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?’ “

“Chris, I-I know what love is because of the undying love of you as my brother. Through that I know God, and I know that God loves you so, so much. E-Even if you don’t believe, nobody ever-and I mean ever-should use him against you or your sexuality.”

Chris is full-on sobbing now, and Phil pulls him to his chest, rubbing his back.

“If you’re gay, or bi, or-or whatever, I love you, and I love you b-because of it. I never want anyone to f-feel hated for that.” Phil pulled away after a moment before turning to the group. “And-And if you call yourself a servant of Christ, and you want to perpetrate this hate, or intolerance, I-I’d ask you to question why seeing someone-someone like Chris love another person with a pure heart makes you s-so uncomfortable.” Phil hugs him again as Chris’s shoulders shake and he balls up Phil’s shirt in his hands, mumbling “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

After what seems like an hour, Caroline speaks quietly. “I think you both brought up some great points. Why don’t we wrap up early today, and-and we can try to pick this up next time, okay?” The group stays silent as Caroline leads them in their closing prayer, Chris’s quiet sobs the only noise besides her soft voice. People stand, a few shuffling over to give Chris hugs and murmur in his ear. “I think I’m gonna go for a walk with him. Y’know, help calm him down.” Phil murmured to Dan when he got a moment away. “Clearly a tough time, yeah?” “Yeah, yeah, of course.” Dan nods quickly, still a bit shell-shocked from the sudden outpouring of emotion. “Are you gonna-” He glanced between the two of them, and Phil bit his lip.

“I don’t think this is the best time to tell him about, um...that. It’s about him right now, me.” He said, glancing back at Chris nervously. “I just want to give him time to decompress. But we’ll grab dinner later, yeah?”

Before Dan can answer Phil is back over with Chris, a supportive hand on his shoulder as he leads him out. The next thing he knows, he’s alone in the small room, and he takes a few deep breaths before looking up at the ceiling.

Why do you have to make this so hard, God?

It’s just about eight-thirty when Dan’s phone buzzes.

We had a long talk-tho i guess u guessed! Lol! 0_o U want 2 meet @ snake path? -Phil!

Dan couldn’t help but grin in spite of the heaviness he had been feeling for the past several hours, practically jumping off the bed.

Omw in five.

Snake Path was Phil’s name for this little curvy path near the edge of campus, totally obscured by trees. The two had shared plenty of kisses and mini dates there, hiding out from the world when it all got to be too much. Some time with Phil sounded perfect-time where he didn’t have to think about God, or Chris, or coming out, or God forbid the fucking bombed law exam.

Dan can practically feel the sadness dissipating as he makes his way down, pulling his jacket tighter with a happy hum under his breath. Once he sees Phil, he picks up speed, laughing a bit as Phil gives him a small wave.

“Why didn’t you ask me to bring you a jacket?” Dan whined, wrapping his arms around Phil tightly. “You must be freezing!” “Well, good thing I’ve got you to warm me up.” Phil grinned and sat down, pulling Dan into a kiss as soon as he was sat down as well.

Dan giggled and started to speak, but Phil was kissing him again, hands moving to gently hold his hips.

“I missed you.” He murmured against his lips. “I know it’s stupid, but we haven’t had enough time to ourselves lately.”

“I missed you, too.” Dan sighs, wiggling slightly under Phil’s hold as he pulled him into another kiss.

Phil kisses back, and for the first time all day, Dan feels good.

Dan’s totally lost in the feeling, letting out a happy sigh. Before he knows it, he’s climbing into Phil’s lap, hands cupping his cheeks.

He doesn’t even realize that he’s sliding his tongue into his mouth until Phil makes a surprised noise, quickly freezing as he feels guilt swarm inside him.

“Phil…” He starts to push him away, but Phil giggles a bit, looking a bit stunned, before he slowly tries to pull him back. “Nobody’s out here…” He assures Dan, shrugging a little bit. “If-If you want to keep going-”

“Phil, I-what are we doing? What am I doing?” Dan quickly moves off of Phil’s lap, hugging his knees to his chest.

Phil blinks a few times. “...Kissing your boyfriend?” He asks, tilting his head to one side. He’s giving Dan a clueless look, like he really doesn’t get what’s going on. That only makes Dan’s stomach hurt worse.

“You know I want to do a bit more than kissing, don’t lie.” Dan’s snapping now, but he can’t help it. All the frustration is bubbling up, and the way Phil’s face turns red and he looks away sheepishly. “And I think you do, too.”

“Is that such a problem?” He said quietly. “That I want to...do more, with you?”

“Yes, Phil!” Dan groans. “Are you-Are you kidding me right now?”

Phil takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry-you just came on kind of strong. I-I guess I must’ve gotten the wrong idea.” “Yeah, well, you sure did.” Dan grits his teeth, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’ve had the worst fucking day of all time, and now look what’s happening.” Phil looks completely beside himself, curling up a bit further into himself, but before he can speak Dan’s going off. All these things he’s been holding inside him for so long, they just seem to be exploding out.

“Everything sucks, yeah? I get that for you, it might be different. You know what you want to do with your life, and you love it. It’s your calling or whatever. And you’re naturally some freaky genius who gets to do everything right the first try.” “Dan, c’mon-”

“No! It’s true! You’re Mr. Saintly, you can do whatever you want! My parents think I’m some delinquent, and I have to become a shitty lawyer to convince them I’m not!” “Hey, hey-” “You don’t get the pressure I’m under!” Dan snaps finally, slamming his hand against the grass. “I don’t know pressure?” Phil says, voice quiet. Dan opens his mouth to speak, but freezes as he catches the glare Phil shoots him. “You’re telling me I don’t know pressure? The model Catholc ex-homosexual?” Dan nearly shivers as the way Phil’s voice raises in anger-it’s not even that he looks that mad, but it’s so foreign that it terrifies him.

“I mean, really, Dan! I’ve never taken exams like this, I’m exhausted, I’m worried about you, I learn my-my friend thinks that I’m just as bad as the people who tried to ‘cure’ me, and now my boyfriend is getting mad that we just want to kiss after a long day and telling me I don’t know pressure?”

Dan gulps audibly, wrapping his arms around himself. “I didn’t mean to get mad.” He says finally. “Then why were you?” Phil sounds exasperated. “I don’t understand how you can kiss me like that and then just freak out and expect me not to get worried!”

Dan sniffles a bit, looking down. ”Well...we were getting kind of intense. And we’re Catholic, so I thought-”

He falls silent as Phil’s anger fades away and is replaced with confusion.

“Wait, hold on.” He shakes his head. “We’re Catholics?”

Dan freezes before looking over at him with a guilty look, feeling his insides physically ache at all of the hurt inside him. “Well...I-I’m trying to be one, anyways.” He explains shakily,

Phil gently rubs his hand with his thumb, letting Dan continue.

“I-I’m always trying, you know that? Even if I seem like I’m being a little bitch about flashcards, or-or slacking off, or just being weird and watching you pray. I’m trying! I’m trying to believe in God, I’m trying to not flunk out, I’m trying t-to not kiss you in front of everyone, I-I’m trying so hard, and it’s just-it’s not enough…” “Baby…” Phil reaches out and pulls Dan into his lap again, this time only to hold Dan as tight as possible.

“Why isn’t it enough?” He hiccupped out as he started crying, breath coming faster. “E-Everyone else g-gets to do everything s-so easily, s’not fair!”

Phil didn’t say anything, just humming sympathetically and rubbing slow circles onto his back. After a bit, Dan finds himself slowly starting to calm down, and when his crying has been reduced to sniffles and a shaky sigh, Phil pulls away.

“Do you want to start brainstorming solutions?” He suggested gently. Dan shrugged, rubbing his eyes. “Okay, let’s start with an easy one.” He says, voice somehow managing to be matter-of-fact and still loving. Dan feels himself shrink slightly, pressing his cheek to Phil’s shoulder. “You think you’re going to fail?” Dan laughed weakly, nearly about to start crying again. “It’s not really a question at the moment. I totally bombed that test today.”

“Do you care?” Phil said, quickly clarifying. “Do you care if that hurts your chances of having a career as a lawyer?” Dan pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don’t...I want to be in college. I don’t wanna flunk. But, fuck, if I become a lawyer I think I’m gonna be sad, and miserable, and having a miserable mid-life crisis, fuck-” Phil tugs him closer. “Hon, you don’t have to do law. You can do something else.” “You don’t get it, my parents-” “Dan.” Phil nudged Dan’s side. “Remember, I’m supposed to be an ex-homosexual and a future man of God. My parents expect me to be holy. Literally. I know it's tough. But it’s your life, right?” Dan nodded, rubbing his eyes. “I just...I don’t wanna be aimless.” “Then don’t be. Use the rest of this year to explore what you’re into, and then we can regroup and come up with a plan.”

Dan bit his lip. At first, the thought terrified him, but really after this semester there was only a semester left. Maybe Dan could take that theater class he had heard about...and the idea of not having to do another law seminar didn’t sound too bad…

“Mmm...I suppose I could.” He mumbled, rubbing Phil’s chest absentmindedly. Phil smiled and kissed his nose. “Now. About the religion stuff.” He started, sighing as Dan groaned in embarrassment before continuing on. “Are you really wanting to be Catholic? Like...really?”

“I want to be Catholic with you.” Dan said softly. “I want to share that-that idea of God with you. Because what if, when you-you go to seminary-which I know is a million years away, but still-what if you realize you need to be with another Catholic?”

Dan’s voice broke at the end and Phil cooed, rocking him back and forth gently in his arms. “Daniel, I-I...I don’t even know if I want to be Catholic anymore.” He admitted. As Dan shot his head up,

“I want to follow God, and be a leader for Him. And I love some of the ways that the Catholic church does. But the idea of trying to be a religious leader for a religion that can’t support me and my relationship...” He took Dan’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Maybe I could check out some more, um, progressive Christian denominations.”

Dan took in a deep breath, cupping Phil’s cheek with his free hand. “Wow. Just...wow. You see us lasting that long? Even if...I’m sorry, but even if I don’t think I could ever believe in God?” He asks, a bit doubtful. “Owe no man any thing, but to love one another: for he that loveth another hath fulfilled the law...” Phil began, nuzzling his cheek. “Love worketh no ill to his neighbor: therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.” At the blank look on Dan’s face Phil laughed. “It means love is the most important thing, out of all the rules and commandments of Christianity. I think you’re a wonderful person who acts with love as much as possible, and I think that’s why I love you, and honors God-whether you call it that or not.”

Dan blushed. “You really think so?”

“Of course. And we can share deeper, spiritual things together, if you want to get close in that way. We can try meditation sometime. Or-Or more midnight talks, you know I love those.” “And what about...getting close, y’know, in that way?” This time it was Phil’s turn to blush, looking down. “I’m not exactly saving myself for marriage anymore.” “Can’t you become a virgin again?” Dan asked, and Phil turned infinitely redder.

“I-yeah? But do I really want to do that? I mean, I did what I did. And I don’t want to be a virgin until I can sign some piece of paper. I-I don’t want to wait that long at all, actually.”

“Oh?” Dan gulps thickly.

“I want to share it with you, because I love you, so much. I’ve never done it with someone I’ve, um, loved before.” He whispered softly. “Only quick, desperate stuff when I was...y’know.”

Dan cooed and cupped his cheeks, kissing him slowly. “I want to share it with you, too, love. We can figure it out later, yeah?” Phil grinned and nodded before leaning into the kiss, Dan giggling a bit. It might sound stupid, but he just felt so good. So light. Like he could just sit here in Phil’s arms forever, and nothing bad could happen. Like-

“Are you two tonguing right now?!” Louise shrieked, and Dan yelped as suddenly Phil was scrambling away, both their faces bright red as they turn to look up and see Louise, Chris, and PJ looking down at them with amused looks. “You totally were!” “Noooo…” Phil whined, burying his face in his hands as Chris snorted out a laugh.

“Wow, Phil, kinda bummed you didn’t show me this kind of brotherly love.”

Dan and Phil exchanged small glances, a slow smile spreading across each of their faces. “The soul of Daniel was knit to the soul of Philip.” Dan teased.

“Oh-shush your hush!”

#fearfully and wonderfully #fearfully and wonderfully verse #phan #danielhowell #phil lester #dan howell #phanfic #phanfiction #phanfic au #au #phan au #college phan #uni phan #phan fluff #phan angst #phan hurt/comfort #phanfiction au

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 5 years

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Do you have any hcs about Dom and Pyro's family backgrounds, how they got their powers, etc? Any shipping dynamic headcanons? No reason, I just figured you might and I'd like to hear them!

You have opened Pandora’s box, my friend, because I have so, so many head-canons.

I’m afraid this is basically all Pyro. He’s the character that I really obsess over in that ship. Avalanche is cool, too, but I’m all about Pyro. Maybe someday I’ll do Avalanche head-canons after I think more about his background. But for now, I’m going to rant about Pyro in ridiculous detail.

Background:

Pyro’s Marvel bio only mentions an unnamed grandmother under relatives, so I head-canon that he was raised by his grandmother. His parents were both teens that quickly abandoned him – his dad before he was born, and his mother a few months afterwards. Adult St. John doesn’t really feel any resentment or angst about it. Since they abandoned him as a baby, he doesn’t take it personally – they just didn’t want to be parents, and he can understand that. (He sure as fuck doesn’t want to raise any kids, either). His grandmother was strict, and he got yelled at a lot, but it didn’t really cross the line into abusive. Little St. John often felt like he was being punished for someone else’s crimes, but he also grew up feeling fairly secure that “Gran” loved him and would take care of him. He was born in Sydney (according to his bio), but he grew up out in the countryside north of Sydney. They were lower middle-class, sometimes dipping down into poverty if Gran didn’t get enough hours at her job, but not dirt-poor.

St. John wasn’t especially interested in fire until his powers began to develop in adolescence, then he couldn’t help but be drawn to it. He could, on some level, “feel” it in a way he could never quite describe. Gran banned candles from the house because St. John couldn’t resist reaching out to touch the flame, marveling at how he’d never get burned. He eventually discovered that he could make fire actually DO things – leap off the wick and fly around, form into shapes. Despite being a fairly outgoing, impulsive kid, he keeps this as a “fun” little secret. For a while he was convinced that he was a fairy changeling, and that Gran was secretly a witch, and he’d get pulled off on some kind of magical adventure. Until he first saw a news report that used the word “mutant.”

I’d like to give St. John a good relationship with his grandmother into adulthood, but my mind automatically jumped to an angsty head-canon, and I had to run with that. When St. John was about 16, their house was threatened by a massive wildfire. They were late to evacuate, mostly because St. John had been off in the bush fucking around like a dumb teenage boy, wanting to get close to the fire. When he gets back, Gran is frantically trying to drag him into the car, and he is arguing with her that they can stay. He’s confident that he can use his powers to direct the fire around their house so they won’t lose everything, but only if he stays. So he finally shows his grandmother his powers. It’s the first time he’s told anyone. His grandmother is already in full-blown panic mode, she’s been trying to track down her grandson all day, terrified that they are going to burn to death, and now suddenly he’s not her grandson anymore. He’s a creature. He’s one of those unnatural creatures that she heard about on the news, and she just can’t handle it. So she does something that she later never forgives herself for. She gets into the car and drives away, leaving St. John behind. After driving for about 30 minutes, she snaps out of it, and realizes what she is doing. She tries to go back, but the roads are clogged with people evacuating, and the police aren’t letting anyone go towards the fire, even on foot.

Back at the house, St. John gathers a few sentimental possessions, and a few valuable items to sell (anything he can fit into a backpack), and then spitefully lets the house burn. He tries to sit right in the middle of it while it goes up in flames (for maximum teenage drama), but realizes quickly that even if flames won’t hurt him, he can’t breathe smoke. He also sends the fire towards neighboring houses, really enjoying how powerful he feels, and reveling in the destruction. He doesn’t kill anyone, and he doesn’t want to (he’s not in that mindset yet), he’s confident that everyone has evacuated. Eventually he sets a barn on fire, and hears the horses that were left behind screaming in terror. That’s enough to snap him out of it, and he just wanders around for a while, stealing any cash or valuables he finds in abandoned houses until he makes his way to the coast. Then he jumps on a cargo ship that needs extra deck hands, and works his way around Oceania, pretending to be older than he is, having adventures, and generally being an annoying little dumbass that the crew tolerates because he works hard and is brave in a pinch. A few years later he comes back to Australia and is annoyed to discover that he’s been declared dead, and has to jump through a bunch of administrative hoops to be “alive” again. He never seeks out his grandmother, nor has any desire to see or speak to her again. He can forgive his parents, but her abandonment really was a personal rejection of him, and it hurts deeply. It largely sets his views that humans are not to be trusted, and that they will turn on him in an instant if they find out what he is. (Not that Gran is responsible for his many crimes later. She’s not. He makes his own choices.)

After getting a degree (his bio actually lists college level education), he starts working as a journalist and traveling around Oceania again, and banging out romance novels on the side. He uses his powers only in emergencies, generally to save his own skin, but occasionally to help others, if he thinks he can get away with it. He probably starts a few fires as well, mostly by accident. He tries not to be too obvious, but still winds up associated with enough strange fire-related phenomena that Mystique eventually tracks him down and makes him an offer. He’s not really a “true believer” in mutant supremacy, but he thinks that humans will turn on mutantkind eventually, and he’d rather “get them” first. Especially since it’s getting harder and harder to hide his powers. Mostly, though, he’s in the Brotherhood for money and adventure, his two favorite things.

Sexuality: Because of the whole “Byrne imagined Pyro as gay” thing, I absolutely head-canon him as gay. I don’t care if he sleeps with dozens of women and declares himself straight in Marauders, he’s gay as fuck. He’s also deeply closeted – not in denial or self-loathing, just very private about it. Since he appeared as an adult in the 80’s, I imagine he grew up in a time when “gay” wasn’t something that could ever be openly discussed (ignoring Marvel’s sliding time-scale here). It would easily get him fired or ruin his career, and with the rough crowds he hung out with, it could even get him killed. He tends to have anonymous one-night stands, or short affairs, old habit from when gay relationships could not be open. He has no qualms about sleeping with married men, since back in the day there was no chance they’d ever leave their wives (and what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?). I’m afraid I’m making him sound like a negative gay stereotype here, but basically Pyro is a selfish jerk, and he’d have no qualms about sleeping with married women if he were straight or bi. He does occasionally sleep with women, just to keep up an appearance of straightness, but he spends way more time flirting and then making excuses to not take them home. He wound up channeling a lot of his feelings into his novels – giving the female main characters the kind of grandiose romances that he could never have. He’d never admit to this, though, he’ll claim that he just writes trashy romance because it sells well and it’s easy. Avalanche knows and completely accepts him, although they never discuss it openly. The rest of the Brotherhood/Freedom Force have a vague idea, no matter how much Pyro might try to perform heterosexuality. It’s generally a “don’t ask, don’t tell” situation with them. As long as he’s not open about it, they’ll pretend not to notice. (And as times change, I think most of them just don’t care).

With Avalanche – honestly, I can enjoy their relationship as platonic best buddies, or as a couple. If they are buddies, I imagine Pyro kinda pines a bit for his straight friend who put him in the “mate zone,” but mostly just enjoys his company. If they are a couple, then Avalanche is definitely bi (he has a wife in his bio), and was largely in denial about it until he got dragged out of the closet by his good-looking, chatty, obnoxious Australian team-mate. Avalanche tends to be the quiet, reserved one, while Pyro drags him out to bars and keeps up this constant patter that just becomes pleasant background noise. Dominic pretends that he finds it annoying, but he really likes the companionship, and having someone lavish so much attention on him. (He misses it desperately after Pyro dies.) Pyro is a huge flirt, and is also the one most likely to cheat. But mostly, he just enjoys driving Dominic wild with jealousy, then taking him home for intense make-up sex. After years of basically being the secret “fling on the side,” Pyro actually really enjoys Dominic being openly possessive of him. Dominic probably didn’t realize he had feelings for St. John beyond “good buddy” until he was dying (or possibly until he was dead, if you want maximum angst.)

As a writer – St. John is a good writer, sometimes even a great writer. He’s not a literary genius, but he doesn’t really want to be. He just wants to have fun. If the books sell, he’s reasonably happy, although he hates it when he feels like a book isn’t up to par. Even writing trashy romance, he had to bend to publisher demands and couldn’t stray too far from the formulas designed to sell. In a fit of frustration, he once wrote a parody of his own work, with all the insane plot twists that he was forbidden from publishing, and then posted it online as fan-fic under the pen-name “Firebrand.” It’s the most popular fan-fic in his small online fandom, but no one has figured out yet that he actually wrote it. He’ll always claim that he writes to make money, but he truly loves it, and can’t really stop. He’s been writing stories since he was a child, an activity that Gran encouraged since it kept him quiet and out of trouble. He enjoys reading other romance authors, but he absolutely despises Nicholas Sparks, because Sparks (in his mind) is a pretentious wanker who thinks he’s too good for the romance genre.

As a team-mate – Pyro is an absolute vicious, callous bastard if you face him in battle, and if you’re a bystander. He doesn’t hesitate to kill if that’s what the job calls for. But if you’re on his team, then you’re his “mate” (unless you give him a reason to dislike you), and he’ll be friendly, banter, drink with you, watch your back in battle and expect you to watch his. He has no problem working with the X-Men as a Marauder, because hey, they’re on the same team now! They’re all in the same boat, both literally and figuratively, so it doesn’t matter that they fought each other in the past. He may betray them at some point, or have his own agenda (I don’t know where the book is going with him), but in my head-canon, he’s just going with the flow. The X-Men are letting him basically be a pirate, so what the hell? He generally doesn’t like to think too much about what he’s doing when he’s on a team, whether the Brotherhood or Freedom Force. A job is a job, and he tries to turn his mind off about it. He’s pretty comfortable just being hired muscle, and has no desire to lead or be in charge of anything. He doesn’t mind following orders, as long as the leader treats him well enough. I’d like to imagine that all of the Marauders will eventually get tangled up in scheming and intrigue between the Hell-fire club factions – except Pyro, who has no idea what the fuck is going on, and no desire to know.

Marauders Pyro – I love him, he is a trashfire disaster. I think he is being a bit wilder than he has been in the past because he isn’t really over dying and coming back to life. He’s having, not a mid-life, but a post-death crisis. I mean, he literally got a skull tattooed onto his face. Which seems pretty significant when you think about how the Legacy Virus wore him down until he was basically looking at his own death every time he looked in the mirror. (But he’ll say he just did it because it looks cool.) I don’t think Pyro minds the idea of dying (he’s pretty upbeat about it in a Freedom Force mission when he thinks he and Mystique are about to get gunned down), but the Legacy Virus was hard on him, because it was so slow and inevitable. It was slow and agonizing and (in his mind) undignified, and he was basically staring down the barrel of it for years while his strength slowly failed - no longer able to control his powers, no longer able to be of any use to his team-mates. He hated it. He hated the idea of dying in a hospital bed. He wanted to get his head shot off on a battlefield somewhere, not die in bed. And now that he’s alive and healthy for the first time in years, he’s just reveling in it, and trying to live life the fullest.

Other random head-canons:

Pyro is terrible at video games. Terrible. Again, because he showed up as an adult in the 80’s, I imagine him growing up without them, but even with the sliding time-scale I don’t think he really got into video games as a child. He had a pretty low-tech house-hold with Gran. He’ll play Smash Brothers with the other Marauders just to hang out, but he has no idea what he’s doing. He just mashes buttons, and every now and then manages to knock someone off the stage with a lucky shot (which is infuriating to whoever gets knocked out). He routinely forgets which character he is. Once he “played” through a round with his controller unplugged and didn’t notice. (Kitty won $50 off Bobby in that bet.)

Keeping with the low-tech theme, he tends to write by hand in spiral-bound notebooks, old habit left from his journalist days. He’ll write an entire novel by hand, then edit as he types it up, a laborious process that often involves a lot of booze.

You can never offend Pyro with Australia jokes. He knows all the Australia jokes, and he’ll make them before you do. He sometimes uses obscure Australian slang to mess with people, and sometimes just completely makes shit up to see what he can get away with.

He doesn’t actually like Vegemite all that much, but it’s a very nostalgic taste and it’s hard to get outside of Australia, so sometimes he finds himself absolutely craving it. When Avalanche commented that Vegemite was disgusting, Pyro ate an entire jar with a spoon while staring him down the entire time. He was starting to feel really sick by the end of that, but he had a point to prove, damn it.

Pyro is smarter than he often acts. This doesn’t stop him from being an impulsive dumbass. He’s fairly literate, and can quote famous authors while also smashing an empty beer can against his forehead. He likes to read when he’s got downtime and nothing else to do. He’s especially fond of Jane Austen (because she’s witty) and Wuthering Heights, because it is a novel about horrible, dysfunctional people self-destructing and taking everyone else down with them, and he lives for that drama.

He secretly watches soap operas and dramas, they play up to his interest in romance. His deep dark secret is being a major fan of the 1960’s supernatural soap opera Dark Shadows. If ever caught watching it, he’ll flip it off and claim he was watching the most disgusting porn imaginable, because that is less embarrassing to him than watching Dark Shadows.

I think that’s it for now. I have too many thoughts about Pyro. Thank you for giving me a reason to write this all down. Bless you if you’ve actually read this far.

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shownuslaugh · 6 years

Text

Can’t Let Go

Series: Monsta X 8th Member AU

Pairing: M.I/Shownu; M.I/Jooheon

2020

The party is loud. Almost too loud. As much as Chanmi loves letting loose and having fun with her boys, the atmosphere of the crowded hotel room is practically unbearable. She decides as an oblivious drunk man stumbles into her without apology that she’s far too sober for this. Or, well, she isn’t sober since she’s been drinking like a fish all night, but she’s not her usual happy drunk self. Her mood is dark.

Just like the girl perched in Jooheon’s lap.

Chanmi spares another look back at the new couple before elbowing her way outside, grabbing a bottle of soju on the way.

Luckily for Chanmi the balcony is completely empty. Everyone is crammed inside, spending their time sweating and grinding all over each other to the beat of a new Khalid song. Normally she would be in there with everyone else. Normally she’d be with Youngjae- her go to good time partner despite their break up. Or maybe Gunhee. He knows how to have fun as well. But they aren’t here. Chanmi is utterly alone tonight.

How pathetic.

Maybe Jooheon is right about her after all.

Maybe that’s why he’d rather spend his time with random girls instead of her.

Maybe they aren’t pathetic like her.

“Chanmi?” Shownu steps out on the balcony, presenting her with two shot glasses. “I hope you weren’t planning on drinking alone.”

“I was,” she says without pause. “And I’d like to get back to that plan, please and thanks.”

“No.” He plucks the bottle of soju out of her hand and pours them both a drink. He slides the shot glass across the railing of the balcony. The action is smooth and playful, just like the smile he give her. “You’ve been miserable all night.”

“Well spotted.”

“Don’t get an attitude with me.”

Chanmi recognizes an order from her leader when she hears one. “Sorry, Hyunwoo.”

He downs the shot, enjoying the slight burn of the liquor. “Is it Jooheon? Has he been a dick again? I’ve been telling him all tour to just leave you alone and let you live your life how you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s been doing nothing but complaining about you talking and dancing with random men. Remember that backup dancer that got fired halfway through the tour? Jooheon had him fired after you danced with him at that one concert.”

A fuzzy memory of a cute boy and a hot dance tickles the back of Chanmi’s mind. “Why would he do that?”

“Jealousy.” The alcohol has Shownu’s lips loose. “You should’ve heard him that night. He broke the lamp in our hotel room and almost put a hole in the wall. It took Hoseok and I to hold him back and keep him from killing the poor guy.”

Chanmi knows what she should be focusing on, but for some reason her mind keeps circling back to the image of Shownu having to hold onto Jooheon, his muscles straining and flexing with the effort. When she shakes her head to get rid of the increasingly dirty thoughts she notices him watching her closely. His eyes are trained on her lips, pupils blown wide in his drunken state.

“Oppa.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, anything else she was about to say dying on her lips as Shownu leans closer. Her eyes fall shut and she grips his white tee in her fist. His lips are soft, plush, and demanding. He leads the kiss the same way he leads the group, knowing exactly what to do to bring about the best result. Chanmi’s blood pounds in her ears and she wants to chase after the pleasure, especially when his tongue teasingly traces over her bottom lip, but she’s suddenly being pulled away.

Jooheon is livid.

“What the fuck?!” He’s gripping the back of Shownu’s shirt, eyes blazing with anger. “What are you doing?”

“What is he doing?” Chanmi squeezes her way between them so she’s right in Jooheon’s face. “What are you doing? Don’t you have some girl you’re supposed to be playing with right now?”

The way Jooheon looks at her is indescribable. She can’t quite pin down what’s going on in his head, but whatever he’s thinking as he looks at her isn’t good. Slowly, he releases Shownu, stepping back and bowing.

“I’m sorry, hyung. I got carried away.”

Shownu scratches the back of his neck. “It’s fine. Don’t do it again.”

“Hyung…” Jooheon looks up. “Let me talk to Chanmi alone.”

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you,” Chanmi says with her arms folded over her chest.

Shownu looks back at her. “Do it anyway. Please? For everyone’s sanity?”

Part of her melts a little bit. Leader or not, she can’t say no to Shownu. “Fine. But I won’t be happy!”

“No one is telling you to.” With that, Shownu leaves the balcony, shutting and locking the doors behind him.

Chanmi’s mouth falls open in shock. She’s been tricked! “Hey! You bastard! I hate you!”

“A locked door is the least of your problems right now,” Jooheon says. “Why did you do it?”

She gives him an annoyed look over her shoulder, still tugging on the doorknob. “Do what?”

“Why did you kiss Hyunwoo?”

“Why do you care?!”

“Because you’re mine!” He grabs her wrist, spinning her around so they’re pressed chest to chest, nose to nose. “Other men don’t get to touch you.”

She smiles sarcastically. “Then I would hate for you to find out what I did with Kihyun.”

There’s that look again. Jooheon’s grip on her wrist tightens and he presses her even further against the door. Chanmi can feel the vibrations of the bass run through her body.

“What did you do with Kihyun?”

Chanmi knows she’s on thin ice, but what the hell, she’s drunk and annoyed. “I fucked him, Jooheon. A few times.”

That’s all it takes for him to be on her. He kisses her like he’s trying to erase Kihyun’s name from her mouth. Like he’s trying to sear Shownu’s kiss away. Like he’s trying to make it to where Youngjae, and Gunhee, and that fucking backup dancer, and any other man never existed. Because goddamnit she’s his. No one else’s. His.

Her nails dig into his shoulder blades roughly. She wants it to hurt. She wants him to bleed. Everything he’s ever done to her, she wants to return tenfold. Chanmi bites down on his lower lip, enjoying the way he gasps and growls in pain. It’s music to her ears. His hands drop to her ass to give her a hard smack before tugging on the waistband of her leggings so he can slip his hands inside, digging his fingers into the skin of her ass.

“Fuck,” Jooheon growls under his breath. No panties. She’s not wearing any panties. “Do other men know what a little slut you are? Is that why we chase after you?”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

He smirks, going in for another kiss. Chanmi maneuvers so his thigh is between her legs and grinds down once experimentally. Jooheon likes the way she moves against him. He encourages it. His hands push her back and forth at a slow, agonizing pace. She moans despite herself, trailing her lips to his neck. Things are getting too soft between them. Too sweet. She bites down harshly on his neck and Jooheon cries out in pain. His hands leave her ass to wrap around her throat and pull her off him.

“Can’t you behave for five seconds?” Jooheon lets one of his hands trail down her body, brushing over her breasts, before slipping between her legs. He can feel her warmth and wetness through her leggings.

Chanmi gasps, arching her body towards him. “No.”

“What a shame.” He shakes his head in mock disappointment.

“Why? Do only good girls get your cock?” She drops her hands to his crotch and give his hard cock a squeeze. “Or is that just an excuse because you know you can’t compare?”

Instead of verbally responding, Jooheon spins Chanmi around, pressing her chest to the cool glass of the balcony door. He yanks down her leggings before unzipping his own pants, letting the fabric drop to the ground. Chanmi gasps as he sinks himself in her wet heat. The stretch of his cock is painfully delicious and when she shuts her eyes she imagines she can feel him all the way up in her stomach. He pounds into her relentlessly. There’s no grace period. There’s no waiting for her to adjust to his size. Jooheon thrusts into her at a quick, punishing pace, forehead pressing into her neck, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. Chanmi moans when his tongue laps at the sweat dripping off her skin in tiny rivulets. She wants to return the favor, turn around and yank on a handful of his hair while she devours his lips, but he has her pinned so tightly all she can do is cry out for mercy.

“You’re going to cum on my dick.”

It’s an order and Chanmi is nothing if not obedient to orders.

She manages to hold out until she feels his cock throb inside her, filling her with warmth. She milks his orgasm with her own, twitching around him, feeling the deep rumble of Jooheon’s chest against her back as he moans lowly. He pulls out and watches his cum drip down her thighs in fascination. It gives him flashes of ideas. Ideas of filling her up a second time. Ideas of keeping his cum plugged up inside her all night long.

“Don’t even think about it,” Chanmi tells him.

Jooheon looks at her face, taking in her smudged lipstick and the mascara streaks under her eyes. She looks freshly fucked. Well fucked. Pride swells in his chest and he pulls her leggings up, knowing the white is obvious against the black material. He wants everyone to see it. He wants everyone to know it’s his. She’s his.

“Don’t look at another man tonight,” he tells her.

“Or what? You’ll fuck me again?” Chanmi knows she looks a mess and her sarcasm is falling flat. Honestly, she’s a bit scared. Scared of her own obsessive personality. Now that she’s had a taste of him- her crush since day one- she won’t be able to put him back.

Little does Chanmi know, Jooheon is thinking the exact same thing.

#monsta x au #monsta x 8th member au

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k-thequeen-writings · 6 years

Text

Fandom Quest ch 4

Clowning Around

A few weeks had passed since the kiss, and it’s been on Sam and Kate’s minds the entire time. Since the gang was currently taking a break from hunting to catch their breath, they decided to stay in the current town and go to -

“The carnival? Dean Winchester actually wants to go have fun?” Kate jabbed as she tossed her bag, then her body onto the bed. The latest hunt had been exhausting! So much so that Kate didn't feel like moving for the next century.

“Hey! I’m a fun guy!” the man protested, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest.

As Kate went to speak, Sam laughed and sat next to her, leaning forward, “Since when, Dean? When was the last time we went to something like a carnival? Because I can’t think of anything for the past few years, actually.” He grinned, glancing over at Kate who was obviously enjoying the moment.

Dean pouted at the two and how they were picking on him. He was a fun guy! He was! “Well, if you don’t want to go, I’ll just take Layla and make it a date,” he grumbled, walking to the door then freezing in his steps. Daring to look at the pair on the bed, Dean watched as two people were staring right back at him, a smirk on their face. “You guys knew already, didn’t you?” Dean sighed, rolling his eyes as Kate wiggled her eyebrows at him. “I don’t want a word out of you, Kate. And don’t tell Layla you know!” he commanded. Kate pretended to zip her mouth and throw away the key. Dean sighed in defeat, again, and walked out to the car, waiting for the others so they could leave.

“So… it’s a date then?” Sam turned to Kate, rubbing his neck. He fidgeted, shifted his weight.

“It’s a date then,” Kate confirmed. They both left the room and got in the back seat of the Impala, Dean driving off the moment the doors shut.

The silence lasted four minutes.

But it Kate's defense that was a record, and she couldn't hold it in.

“You know Sam? I think hunter-vampire babies are gonna be pretty badass, wouldn’t you say?” Kate smirked, glancing to the front seat as Layla whirled around to glare at the princess, annoyance clearly written on her face.

“You know?” she demanded. Layla turned her glare from Kate to Sam, and then rested her gaze on Dean.

“Don't look at me!” Dean yelped. “They already knew!”

“Yup! And I can’t wait to give y’all a hard time later,” Kate grinned. Layla and Dean knew they were in it for the long run. Sam just sat back and said nothing, a traitorous move in everyone's mind, yet all for different reasons.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Come on, Sam! You can do it!” Kate cheered, throwing her fist in the air.

They were at one of those cork gun games, but instead of shooting prizes and knocking them off, a person had to shoot moving point targets. With enough points, anyone could get something off the very high top shelf of prizes. So with Sam's giftedness with guns, the game was a breeze. With one last shot at the target, Sam finally managed to reach the score he needed.

“You wanted the slinky, right?” he asked, setting the toy gun down in front of the slack-jawed, yet impressed, vendor.

“Yup! Gimme gimme,” Kate cackled, practically ripping the slinky from the vendor’s hands.

“Why did you want this, again? Dean’s normally the one obsessed with slinkies.” Sam smiled down at the woman as they walked, Kate protectively holding the huge slinky to her chest.

The street was fairly crowded but getting through was easy. Obviously they must've come on a busy day, as it was a weekend, which just made things more fun. In Kate's opinion anyway.

“I’m gonna trap Dean in it, then push him in the pond,” she cackled again, looking around for the said man.

“This is why I’m dating you,” Sam shook his head in bewilderment, laughing softly as they continued to walk towards the meeting point.

“Oh my god! Is that a slinky?” Dean gasped, rushing up to Kate who practically growled at him to get away.

“Sam! Hold him!” she exclaimed. Sam quickly jumped into action, grabbing Dean’s arms as Kate pulled the slinky down around his body, Sam moving his hands around when he had to.

“What the hell? You guys! Let me go!” Dean shouted. Their display began to draw attention and people looked at the three struggling, a few couples murmuring about what was happening.

“And into the water he goes!” Kate laughed, pushing Dean into the water. Unfortunately, this was the exact moment security started to rush toward them. “Oh god. Run!”

She grabbed Sam’s hand, who was practically dying of laughter, and drug him somewhere they could hide.It didn't take much searching, but Kate had them hiding behind one of the rides, a small smile on her face as she caught her breath, the tall moose smiling down at her.

“I think we’re clear,” she whispered, looking around the corner to make sure. Kate ducked her head back in as a man with a yellow shirt rushed by.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Sam asked, no hesitation in his voice as he spoke. When Kate turned to face him, her eyes wide, he began to blush.

“What did you just say?”

“I, um… Will you be my girlfriend? I know we haven’t actually gone on a real date, besides this, but… I figured I should still ask.” He smiled brightly, eyes closed as he did. Sam hoped to the heavens that she wouldn't decline.

It was Kate's turn to blush as she admired his features while he spoke, which she didn’t hear a word of. When he was finished talking, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly, which he gladly returned.

“Of course I will,” she whispered, kissing his cheek before pulling away completely with a devious smirk on her face. “So... Should we go get ourselves kicked out?” she asked, a strange look in her eyes.

Sam raised an eyebrow in confusion. Before he could ask what she meant, Kate leaned in and started whispering in his ear, the man’s face getting brighter and brighter with each word.

“Kate! Even Dean isn’t ballsy enough to do that!”

A second passed and he chuckled, gently grabbing her shoulders before looking around to make sure no one could see them. He then smiled, grabbed her hand and rushed off to the “scary” ride and sneaking behind the scenes. A fair distance away two figures sat on a bench observing.

“Katy. Why are you stalking? Dean doesn’t like it when we watch, especially when they’re sleeping,” Castiel asked the woman lounging on a bench, watching everything play out with the pair.

She leaned her head back to look at Castiel for a moment. “Cas, that’s just weird,” she commented. “And-” she stood to face him, crossing her arms, “-I’m not stalking! I’m just making sure everything goes according to the plan.” Katy grinned, looking back to the ride Sam and Kate had snuck behind.

“God’s plan?” Cas asked in a curious tone, doing his usual cat-head-tilt thing.

Katy shook her head no, patting Castiel’s shoulder as she walked past him. “Nope, mine.”

“Where are you going! Aren’t you here to watch?” Cas called, annoyed that she was leaving already.

“Home! Watch out for them until I’m back.” She gave him a thumbs up before disappearing in the darkness of the Hall of Mirrors.

“Dean? You alright there?” Layla chuckled, walking up to the pouting man sitting at a picnic table with a torn up slinky, soaking wet.

“Your little princess is an asshole! She trapped me in the slinky and pushed me into the water!” He growled, gesturing to the pond and slinky as he spoke. The water he could handle, but did she really have to destroy such a priceless artifact?

As he spoke, Layla had to contain her laughter to the point that her face turned red. Finally, Dean finished talking, and Layla almost fell to the ground with laughter, holding her stomach. “That’s amazing! Oh my god, I wish I was there to see that!” she howled, banging her fist against the table a couple of times.

Dean sighed, a small smile appearing on his face as he shook his head at Layla’s laughing fit. “Okay okay, I guess it was funny,” he admitted, handing her his drink so she could take a sip and catch her breath again.

Once she had calmed down, they two had decided to head towards the food, both of their bottomless stomachs growling at them. Hotdogs, drinks, cotton candy, cheese pretzels… they were calling their names! Movement in a shadow caught Layla's eye.

“Oh my god,” Layla whispered, pulling on Dean’s sleeve and pointing in front of her.

When he gave in and looked where she wanted him to, he saw Sam and Kate sneaking away from the back of a ride with messy hair and clothes messed up. “Oh, this is good.” He crouched next to Layla and watched them. Dean had to admit, Sam had to have some balls to pull that off, he commended them. He glanced over at Layla. “Should we leave? You know security must be looking for them.”

“Yeah, that sounds smart. I’ll be in the car,” she smiled, kissing his cheek before grabbing his keys and running off.

“Hey! I don’t want to get them!” he called to her, groaning since she was already out of sight. “Damn her and her vampire speed,” he mumbled, groaning yet again as he went to get the couple.

“Hurry Sam!” Kate whisper-shouted, holding the door open from the set of the ride, gesturing for the tall man to come before they were caught in the bad act. Once they were out, they started walking back to the food area and giggling, murmuring about how that had actually gotten away with that.

“I think you missed a button, Sammy,” Dean smirked as he walked up to them with his arms crossed. He then glared down at Kate, pointing a finger in her face, “And you! You ruined a perfectly good slinky!” He was offended by it too.

“Get your finger out of my face before I bite it off, Winchester,” She glared back, doing her best to keep a straight face.

“I’d listen to her, Dean. She’s good at that.”

“Ew! I didn’t want to know that!” Dean recoiled away from them, a disgusted look on his face. “Anyway, let's go. Security is looking for you so we need to go.” He groaned at the twin smug looks, annoyed that his night was cut short.

Once they were back at the hotel, Dean cleaned up and Layla went out to get drinks. The minute she was back, the four ate, drank, and laughed the night away before passing out in the early hours. Sam woke up to the sound of someone puking and his head spinning. Groaning, he lifted himself from the bed and went to the bathroom to find Kate huddled around the toilet bowl.

“You okay?” he asked, eyes squinted from the light shining through the window.

“I’ve never had a hangover before… Are they always this bad?”

“Sadly, yes,” Sam responded, chuckling a little before moving to sit on the bathtub next to her. He continually rubbed her back as another wave of nausea backhanded Kate.

It took another hour before Kate had finally finished puking and had passed out against Sam’s leg. Eventually, Kate fell asleep, so he carefully picked her up and moved her to the bed, falling back asleep beside her. A couple more hours passed before all of them had enough sleep to not puke. Once they were up, and marginally functional, they hit the road.

Far, far away Katy gasped for air as she fell to her knees, finally coming back to her world at the exact same time from when she left. She landed in the backyard, fortunately. There were sometimes when Katy would appear in a different location, usually her room or a block away, or that one time she ended up at a Chili's. Wasn't that just an adventure.

“My god. That’s something I’ll definitely have to get used to,” she told herself, standing back up. The feeling slowly came back to her legs as she hobbled back inside her house.

When Katy walked back inside the house she began working on packing for the family’s move down to the coast, an event that she had mixed feelings for. She had lived in this house basically her whole life, and now they were leaving it and their friends, to move a place almost three hours away. The main reason for the move was because of her mother’s health, which was more important than almost anything.

“Katy! You ready to go?” her mother poked her head inside the girl’s room, smiling at her daughter as she was packing her bag for the small trip down to the new house.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you in the car,” Katy nodded, standing to get a couple more items from her closet as her mom left for the car.

The two and a half hour drive felt like ages, but in a few years, it would end up being a hop, skip, and a jump compared to what she would experience. When they got there, her mom’s boyfriend took them out for dinner and ice cream, Katy getting the cotton candy which tasted oh so good. That night, she ended up sleeping on the bathroom floor with a towel as a pillow, a bed pad, and a blanket. It wasn't that bad though.

That weekend, Katy and her mom went on a tour of the local university, even though she was only fourteen. Later that day, they explored the city and mall, went dress shopping, and had a meeting with the new co-op Katy would be attending. For those not in the know, a co-op is a school for homeschoolers. The next day, Katy attended the first prom, of many, with the co-op. There, she met Hunter, Anna, and Victoria.

Anna, being the fashionista that Katy finds out is a big part of her personality, along with the sarcastic demeanor, wore a medieval cape and a little medieval circlet that went great with her dress. Anna’s beautiful royal blue dress stood out against her dark skin and the silver jewelry contrasted greatly with her dark brown eyes. But it was her birthday, so she had to go all out!

Victoria, whom Katy had actually met first, had also worn a cape. Katy found out that Victoria and her mom had made it, which made the cape even more special. The red cape blended ever so slightly with her sunset hair color and stood out against her black dress. Her green eyes stood out against all the other colors. She was sweet, and very outgoing, introducing herself to Katy first. The girl vaguely reminded Katy of a young Lily Evans.

Hunter, wore a cute brown dress and gloves to go with her dark blonde hair twisted into a cute style and resting on her shoulder. The brown dress matched her dark eyes in every way, but not her bubbly personality. Which was expressed through a small, sparkly tiara on her head and excited nature. Sadly, she didn’t sit with any of them, but they would soon become close friends.

Through the night, Katy danced and made friends with a lot of people, but she spent most of her time with one of the three girls, switching between them. She didn't decide who was her favorite, and she didn't want to. They were all good people, which made her happy all the same.

Well hello, my friends! I’m so sorry for taking so long. I had midterms after the last chapter, trouble with my roommate, spring break, and medical troubles back home… and no motivation. XD But now it’s finished! And Minecraftian wants to kill me, like usual. XD

~ K-The-Queen

Don't be fooled by her, she ate food while I slaved away adding details, fixing spelling and grammar, and telling her that she needed more details.

~ Still researching murder methods, Minecraftian1213

#supernatural #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #Sam Winchester Fanfic #AU #Castiel #fanfiction #fandom quest

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prompt-master · 7 years

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Where's David

#Camp camp #cc #fan fic

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dragon-temeraire · 7 years

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What’s your size?

Summary: Stiles drops an XXL condom in class, and it suddenly seems like Danny is really interested in him. (Or, at least, a certain part of him.)

Notes: Inspired by this post. Kind of cracky. I don’t actually remember the canon circumstances in which this occurred, so this fic is totally AU. Thanks to @shealwaysreads for telling me I should write this! (On AO3)

Stiles knows he’s in trouble before the condom even hits the classroom floor. He’s no stranger to public humiliation, but it doesn’t mean he’s a fan of it, either. And it’s going to happen, because a bright gold extra extra large condom is pretty hard to miss.

So he fully expects laughter, jeers, and several variations of “Yeah right, Stilinski.”

But it doesn’t happen.

There’s just Scott, sitting next to him and looking amused, and Coach, who picks it up, says “Congrats,” and awkwardly hands it back. Then there’s Danny, who’s wearing an expression Stiles isn’t quite sure how to interpret.

But he’s pretty sure it’s the most interested look Danny has ever given him.

Stiles hurriedly shoves the condom back into his pocket, and the class gets back to work, everyone seemingly intent on economics.

Stiles breathes a sigh of relief.

Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal after all.

He could be wrong, though.

It’s quiet for a few days, then Scott calls him in the evening, right when Stiles is considering actually doing his homework. “Danny asked me today if you really needed an XXL condom,” he says, no preamble. “How could I possibly know that?” he adds, bewildered, as Stiles sputters in surprise.

“He probably figures you’ve seen me naked,” Stiles manages to say, while wondering if this is some kind of bizarre joke.

“Well, yeah, I have. But it’s not like I had a measuring tape with me or anything,” Scott huffs. “And he didn’t understand why I wasn’t interested in your junk.”

“Maybe he thinks you have some weird friendship requirements,” Stiles says, shrugging. “But you have a girlfriend, and I’m the one who’s single, so I don’t think anyone else cares about dick size that much either.” He flops back on the bed, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. “He really wanted to know that badly?”

“Have you ever been given a present, for your birthday or whatever, and you were just dying to know what was in it?” Scott says instead of answering. “Like, the mystery of it was just driving you crazy? I think it’s like that with Danny.”

Stiles laughs. “Are you saying my dick is a gift? Because I’m willing to agree with that.”

Scott groans and hangs up on him.

Despite the rumors circulating about just how hung he might be, no one has tried to ogle Stiles in the locker room, for which he is grateful. He usually showers after everyone else leaves anyway, but it’s the principal of the thing. He’s started wearing his nicest underwear, though, just in case.

He does catch Danny giving him speculative looks in the hallways or when he walks through the cafeteria, and he is flattered. Still, he’s certain that, no matter what’s in his pants, Danny would never be interested in actually dating him.

So he doesn’t think much of it.

Right up until Jackson shoves him up against his locker after school, that is. That’s when he starts to get a little worried.

“What the hell,” Jackson growls, hand gripping the collar of Stiles’ shirt. “Why is my best friend so obsessed with your dick?”

The fingers of his other hand dig into Stiles’ shoulder when he shrugs.

“Did you guys hook up at the Jungle?” Jackson asks, eyes narrowing. “And why the hell did you bring a condom to school? Did you really think you were gonna get laid here?”

Stiles raises his hands in surrender. “Look, dude. I didn’t do anything to Danny. Or with Danny. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but the condom thing was an accident, I just forgot it was in my pocket.”

Jackson gives him a disgusted look, then stomps off down the hallway.

Stiles thinks that’ll be the end of it, except that Danny sits at his table at lunch the very next day.

Scott is too busy mooning over Allison to pay much attention, but Stiles tenses a little in surprise. And though it’s ridiculous, he almost expects Danny to ask him about the size of his dick, right there in the middle of the cafeteria.

He doesn’t, of course.

Stiles thinks he’s probably the only person Danny hasn’t asked.

“Hey, Stiles,” Danny says. He looks around, then leans across the table conspiratorially. “I’m doing this because it’s really annoying Jackson,” he says, grinning.

“Well, I’m in full support of that,” Stiles says, laughing.

“I figured you would be,” Danny says. “He’s going through a rough patch with Lydia, so he’s been meddling in other people’s lives. Especially mine.”

“Yikes,” Stiles says. No wonder Jackson’s been extra short-tempered lately. “That sucks.”

Danny raises his eyebrows. “I figured that’d be good news to you. Aren’t you into Lydia?”

“I was, freshman year,” Stiles says dismissively. “I’m not interested in her anymore.”

Danny laughs. “It’s only sophomore year now, Stiles. It wasn’t that long ago.”

“Feels like it was. A lot can change over the summer, you know.”

“Care to elaborate?” Danny asks, looking genuinely curious.

“Well, I was all set to completely change myself, to try to become someone Lydia might be interested in,” Stiles says, shrugging. “But then I went to a Star Wars convention a few hours away, and I ended up making out with a really hot guy.”

“There was actually a hot person at a Star Wars convention?” Danny asks teasingly.

“Rude!” Stiles says, laughing. “And yeah, there was. He was dressed as Han Solo, come on! Anyway, I realized that I didn’t have to be different for someone to be interested in me.”

“That definitely seems like a healthier outlook,” Danny says. “And changing yourself for Lydia would have never worked anyway.”

Stiles thinks Danny will stop sitting with them after a few days, but he just keeps showing up at their table. Even after Jackson stops being pissed about it.

Sometimes, if they’re not too engrossed in planning their next cute date, Allison and Scott will join their conversation. But most of the time, it’s like Stiles and Danny have the table to themselves.

And it starts to feel like he and Danny are…sort of becoming friends.

Stiles tries not to be too excited about it, because Danny is hot, and Stiles does not need another hopeless crush. So when Danny says, “Hey, do you want to be my lab partner?” he hesitates a little.

But it’s not like Scott’s gonna be an option, and he doesn’t want to wait and get stuck with Greenberg, so. “Yeah, that’d be cool,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant.

Danny smiles. “Okay. Where do you want to meet up to study? My house, or yours?”

“Um, my place?” Stiles says, then winces at how that sounds.

“Sure,” Danny says without batting an eye, and pulls out his phone. “Can I get your number? Just in case?”

Stiles feels his stomach swoop pleasantly at that, even though he knows it doesn’t mean anything. “Sure,” he says. “Just in case.”

When they’re alone in his room, Stiles expects it to happen.

He doubts Danny would be so forward as to tell him to just take off his pants, nothing like that. But Stiles does at least expect him to bring up the condom, though, and it makes him a little anxious.

But Danny just sits down and pulls his report out of his backpack. “I think I figured out the answers to most of these,” he says. “But I have no idea what question seven is even asking. Maybe we can work on that one first?”

Stiles blinks in surprise for a moment, abruptly realizing—this isn’t a ploy or a trick. Even though popular people have never liked him, it turns out Danny really does want to be his lab partner. And that means he must actually see Stiles as a peer, as a friend.

That probably shouldn’t thrill Stiles, but it really, really does.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “Let’s get started.”

The work together at Stiles’ house for the next couple of weeks, then at lunch Danny says, “Let’s meet at my house this time.”

“Sure,” Stiles says, but he sends Danny a questioning look.

“I’ve been craving ice cream all day,” he explains, grinning.

Stiles wordlessly points out the soft-serve machine in the corner of the cafeteria.

“Real ice cream,” Danny says, grinning. “We’ve got a couple of gallons in the freezer at home, and I’m ready to dig in.”

“Well, that sounds good to me, I never pass up the chance to eat real ice cream,” Stiles says teasingly.

“Then you’re in for a real treat,” Danny says with a cheerful wink, not missing a beat.

Stiles has to work really hard not to read anything into that.

Danny’s house is nice. It’s just down the street from Jackson’s but it’s less…austere feeling. It’s more like an actual home than an art museum, and Stiles likes it immediately.

Once they get inside, Danny starts pulling out the containers of ice cream, and Stiles gets distracted pretty quickly by the huge television in the living room. “Whoa, that’s epic,” he says, just a little bit covetously.

Danny glances up from his ice cream scooping. “Yeah, it’s great for watching movies, it’s almost like being in the theater.” There’s a pause, and then he says, very casually, “You should come over sometime, bring whatever movies you want to watch.”

“Sure, that’d be great,” Stiles says, nodding.

He doesn’t get too excited, though. He kind of expects it to be one of those friendly gestures that people offer but don’t intend to follow through on, so when Danny says, “How about next weekend? Maybe Friday night?” Stiles is too surprised to answer at first.

“Uh, I should be free,” he manages eventually.

“Awesome,” Danny says, smiling. “I’m looking forward to it. Now, let’s eat this ice cream and get this lab done.”

It’s great, spending time with Danny. Stiles can’t help enjoying it, even though he knows it probably doesn’t mean anything.

He’s a lot more fun than Stiles would have expected, considering he’s best friends with Jackson. Danny appreciates Stiles’ sarcasm, and he has a sly wit of his own that sometimes takes Stiles by surprise.

And Danny apparently also has parents who aren’t home a lot, because there’s no one else at his house when Stiles shows up on Friday night. There’s snacks and drinks spread out on the coffee table, and Danny starts up a movie like there’s no chance of them being interrupted.

So, Stiles guesses, they have the place to themselves tonight. He tries not to read too much into that.

Instead, he eyes all the food on the table and raises an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you don’t just have a giant tub of ice cream out here,” he jokes.

“Gotta eat some actual food first,” Danny says, shrugging. “Then dessert. I have pizza in the oven—vegetable, sorry—but I got this other stuff out in case you didn’t want any.”

“I appreciate it,” Stiles says, because he does, “but I like every kind of pizza, so no worries there.”

Danny laughs. “Good to know,” he says. “Hey, have you been to that new buffet on Main? They’re supposed to have, like, thirty kinds of pizza there.”

“No, I haven’t yet,” Stiles says. “But I definitely want to, it sounds amazing.”

He’s paying more attention to Danny than the movie, so he notices the way Danny pauses thoughtfully, like he wants to say something. He doesn’t, though, even after Stiles waits him out, so he lets it go.

They eat and then relax on the couch, and somehow, over the course of the movie, they end up drifting together, their shoulders barely touching. Stiles sneaks a few glances, wondering what’s going on, but he doesn’t move away, and neither does Danny.

At least, not until the credits are rolling.

Danny shifts around, turning toward Stiles and draping his arm across the back of the couch. “Hey,” he says, looking kind of nervous. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Nothing about that question seems like a joke, but Stiles isn’t totally sure that’s not what it is. “This isn’t about the condom thing, is it? Or are you asking because you’re curious about the size of my dick?”

Danny levels him with a serious look. “I was. Honestly, I had written you off completely,” he admits. “That first day I sat with you at lunch, I had planned to ask you if you wanted to hook up, and just be done with you after that. But you were more interesting than I’d ever expected.” He shrugs. “So I decided to keep talking to you, and I ended up liking you. A lot.”

“So you…actually want to date me? With no ulterior motives?” Stiles asks curiously.

“I can’t say that. I’m still curious about a lot of things, including why you had that condom in the first place. But mostly I just want to know you better,” Danny says.

“Good. Because I feel like, at this point, you were always going to be disappointed. Even if I had the biggest, thickest, greatest dick in the world, I still wouldn’t know how to use it. I’m a virgin,” Stiles says, shrugging.

“Don’t worry, I can definitely teach you how to use it,” Danny says, lips quirking up sexily. “Whenever you’re ready, of course,” he adds reassuringly. “I’m not going to rush you.”

“You really mean that?” Stiles asks, dipping his fingers under the collar of Danny’s shirt and tugging him closer.

“Every word,” Danny breathes, eyes dropping to Stiles’ lips.

Stiles grins. “Then I accept,” he says, pulling Danny into a kiss. “I definitely want to be your boyfriend.”

They’re on their second date when Stiles says, “So, you really want to know why I had that condom?”

“Yeah,” Danny says. “Because I thought you’d started dating someone, or at least started fucking someone.”

“Nothing that exciting, I’m afraid,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “I’d finally worked up the nerve to buy some condoms, just to be prepared, but I didn’t know what size I needed, you know? So I bought this multipack that had a lot of different styles and sizes.”

“Okay, and?” Danny prompts eagerly.

“So when I got back home, my dad was there, and I didn’t really feel like carrying a big box of condoms past him. So I dumped them out and started shoving them in all of my pockets.”

“Oh my god,” Danny says. “Why didn’t you just leave them in the jeep?”

“It was hot,” Stiles says defensively. “They were expensive, I didn’t want them to get ruined.”

“Fair enough,” Danny sighs.

“So I manage to cram them all in, and then I very casually walk through the house, and up to my room. And just when I’m starting to empty them out, I hear my dad coming up the stairs. So I throwing them all in a drawer as fast as I can, and I have them all hidden by the time he’s at my door. But I obviously missed one in my haste, and that’s the one that fell out of my pocket at school.”

Danny’s laughing now, and even though it’s at his expense, Stiles can’t help smiling fondly at him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Danny says, still grinning. “But it’s good to know that you have a whole stash of condoms, just in case.”

“Sexy guys like me gotta keep a bunch on hand,” Stiles says, waggling his eyebrows and winking.

Danny laughs until he cries, but then he makes out with him in the jeep for like an hour, so Stiles figures it was totally worth it.

#stanny #humor #fluff #stiles is a dork #getting together #my fic

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 7 years

Text

Drunken Singing

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2534

CW: Alcohol use, drunknness

Summary: Simon Snow is a horrific singer. And alcohol only exacerbates that fact.

Read on AO3

Simon Snow is a horrific singer. And alcohol only exacerbates that fact.

“All you sinners stand up sing Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” His off key rendition of Brendan Urie rings through the hallway, sounding worse than nails on a chalkboard.

“Shh! You want to wake up the entire building?” I hiss.

He hangs off of me, one arm around my neck and another waving wildly. His face is flush from all the booze. Well, “all” as in two shots of vodka and a beer (Snow is a lightweight.) He giggles and throws his head (along with his body weight) back, making me stumble a bit.

“I, don’t, care what you think, as long as it’s about meeeee!”

I roll my eyes so hard they nearly spin out of their sockets.

“If you’re going to communicate with me in Fall Out Boy lyrics, I’m ignoring you.”

He pouts at that, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Awwww don’t be like that. I’ve got the music in me!”

“That’s just the title of a shitty disco song. Now c’mon, let’s get to your flat.”

I hold him tighter to me, hauling us forward. We’ve had a long night and I for one would like to sleep. Snow complies, content with mumble singing some more Panic! At The Disco (still off-key).

We finally reach the apartment door. I prop my overly intoxicated boyfriend against the wall and look for my key. (Simon gave me one last year. Bunce got annoyed with answering the door for me all the time.) Snow stares at me with a stupid grin on his face. I flick my eyes over at him, one eyebrow raised.

“What is it?” I ask.

“You’re really pretty.”

I drained a deer only two hours ago, so I have enough blood to blush. And I do. Like a bashful idiot being noticed by the cutest guy in the room. I smirk a bit, fighting the urge to grin ridiculously wide. I have some pride left. Not much, but some.

“And you’re drunk as a skunk, Snow.”

He giggles and leans more against the wall. He smiles that amazing smile, the one that’s like sunshine on a rainy day. Merlin and Morgana, he's gorgeous. Sometimes I still can't believe he's with me.

The lock clicks open with ease. I drag the 19 year old toddler towards the door. He spins his way in, arms flailing about and tail almost slashing me.

“Oy! Watch it with the tail!” I yell.

“Sorry, it has a mind of it’s own!” He laughs at that. I don’t know what’s so funny.

I roll my eyes again, then grab his hand and pull him towards the bedroom. He follows, still giggling at his own humour.

The whole place is empty. We went out with Penny and Micah, who’s in London on a visit. They’re probably still dancing at the nightclub. Simon was getting overly rambunctious, so I offered to take him home and leave the other happy couple to their own devices. Though I do wish Bunce was here so we could groan about Snow’s drunken antics together. Misery loves company, after all.

I lead Snow to the bed and he falls down immediately. He hits the mattress with an thump, still giggling. But then he looks up at me and stops. He just stares, a dumb awe struck look spreading across his face.

“What is it now?” I ask, hands on my hips.

“You’re pretty,” he slurs out.

“Yes, you’ve already said that.”

“Are you single?”

Wow, he’s really hammered. “No, of course not, you dolt.”

He pouts even bigger this time. He looks so cartoonishly, adorably sad. “Awww, that sucks. I wanted to ask you out.” He sits up on the edge of the bed, weakly holding my fingers. “You’re so pretty, and you’re smart and funny and nice. Oh and your skin is really smooth.” He rubs his cheek against the back of my hand.

I don’t stop myself from smiling now. He may be drunk off his ass, but he’s still so sweet, so genuine, like he always is when we’re being soft. I kneel down so I’m at eye level with him. I cup his cheek, running my thumb over his tawny skin.

“What if I told you we’re already dating?” I whisper.

He gasps slightly, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Yes, for over a year.”

He grins at this, reaching out to hold my face in return. His hand is so warm against my skin.“Then I must be really lucky.”

I move closer so our foreheads touch, and I can look deeper into his blue eyes. “We both are, love, believe me.”

“If we’re dating, does that mean I can kiss you?”

I chuckle. “If you ask politely, maybe.”

“Can I kiss you?”

I grin wide enough to cause the corners of my eyes to crinkle. Crowley he is so damn cute. “Yes, you may.”

He leans forward to kiss me. It’s a mess (because he’s fucking drunk) but I don’t care, because it still feels incredible. It does every time. My fingers move up to run through his bronze curls. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, hand now holding my neck lazily. My head is getting foggy with thoughts of him. I tear myself away.

“You need to sleep,” I say under my breath.

“Okay,” he replies. He yawns and falls back again.

I stand up and walk to his dresser. His clothes are shoved into the drawers, but at least he keeps his pajamas in one place. I pull out a large t-shirt and sweatpants. Snow is already half asleep on the bed. I undo his trainers, then tug off his v-neck and jeans, leaving him only in his Superman boxers. (He insisted on buying them. He is truly 12 years old at heart.) I lazily dress my idiot boyfriend then lay him down properly on his lumpy mattress. I go to stand up, but Snow grabs my sleeve, keeping me half hunched over.

“Nooo,” he whines, “stay, please.”

“Don’t worry, love, I’m staying. Just going to change out of my sweaty bar clothes.”

He smiles sleepily, hand dropping from me. “Good.”

I take off my jacket and leather boots, then toss my clothes in the hamper along with Snow’s. I open the small drawer Simon keeps empty for me in his dresser. Unlike the other garments stuffed into the piece of furniture, mine are neatly folded and clean. I pick my red silk button down and pants (I’m still the classy one). Snow laying on his side, drooling on his pillow. I take my place next to him (we have our own sides after this long).

I pull up the blanket. Snow mumbles in his sleep and reaches out for me. I sigh, then move closer. He lazily drapes an arm across my side. I hold his back, letting him bury his face in my chest. We fall asleep like that, tangled together, drunk on happiness and vodka respectively.

You know what’s the most pleasant sound to wake up to? Your boyfriend retching over the toilet.

I slowly rub the sleep from my eyes. I see the unruly mop of bronze curls hovering over the porcelain bowl, red wings flared out behind him. I sigh and make my way to the bath, leaning against the door frame.

“And a good morning to you, darling,” I say with a smirk.

“What hit me?” he groans, voice echoing in the toilet bowl

“Two shots of vodka and a singular beer.”

He looks up at me. He has huge bags under his tired blue eyes. His eyebrows are knitted together, mouth hanging open.

“Seriously? That’s it?”

“You’re a lightweight, Snow. Everyone knows that. Except for you, obviously.”

He groans over the toilet again. “How bad was I?”

I rub my chin. “Hm, well, you attempted to dance on top of the bar, so I had to take you home. Then you draped yourself over me like a rag doll, sang indie rock lyrics at the top of your lungs in the hall, oh, and asked me if I was single.”

He moves one eye up to look at me. “Seriously?”

I nod, and he moans. I pat his back lightly. “Stay here, love. I'll go get some aspirin.”

“Okay.” He puts his head in top of his folded arms, still moaning.

I walk into the main hall then the kitchen. Bunce is standing there with the coffee machine already on. She looks rather normal, considering I watched her down five tequila shots last night. Her curly hair is piled on her head, and her robe is neatly bowed, like any other morning. She turns to look at me.

“Morning, Baz,” she says with a cheery tone. (We're long past outward hostility.)

“Morning, Bunce. Will we have coffee soon?”

“Yup.”

“Marvelous. Where's Micah?”

Right on cue, I hear more retching, but not from the bathroom. It comes from Bunce’s room.

“Pennnnnyyyy. I'm dyyyyying.” Micah’s moan carries throughout the whole apartment. Bunce smirks and points in the general direction of her room.

“There he is. Dying apparently." She cranes her neck in his direction. “I'll be there in a minute, love!”

I sigh. “How much did he have?”

“Not much, really. Both our men are lightweights.”

“Apparently. Is there still aspirin in here?”

Bunce turns around and opens a cupboard. Lots of little boxes and bottles sit next to biscuit tins. She pulls out a small white package.

“Here we go.”

I take it from her. “Why do you two keep the medicine in here instead of in the bathroom like normal people?”

“Because the first place Simon usually stumbles into every morning isn’t the bathroom, now is it?”

That's true. Simon is still obsessed with food. I nod slowly. “I see your point.”

The coffee machine clicks done. I take out Simon’s and my mug (Superman and plain black respectively) from the cupboard. Bunce drinks the brown caffeinated liquid like it's nectar of the gods. She sighs and smiles.

“You're an addict,” I mutter.

“I'm allowed a few vices, Basilton.”

She saunters off back to her room. I walk past the open door. Micah is groaning with his head in Bunce’s lap.

“There there, darling,” she whispers while rubbing his back, “it's alright.”

“There's something wrong with British booze,” he says, voice muffled in Bunce’s robe.

“Nothing wrong with it. You just can't hold down your liquor.”

“...shut up...”

Bunce giggles, eliciting more groans from the American boy.

I go into Snow’s room. He's laying on his stomach on the bed, arm hanging off the edge. I sit next to him, near his lower back.

“Done being sick?” I ask.

“Hopefully,” he mumbles. “Got the aspirin?”

“Yeah, and some coffee. Sit up.”

He shifts around until he's leaning against the headboard. I hand him two white tablets and his mug. He takes them and gulps down the liquid. He makes a disgusted face, all scrunched up and annoyed.

“Is this black?”

“Yeah. Black coffee is supposed to help with hangovers.”

“It tastes like shit.”

“It's not supposed to taste good. It's supposed to make you feel better.”

“Well it's not working, so it's pointless.” He puts the mug down the bedside table, then crosses his arms over his chest. He looks at me funny, like he's trying to remember something.

“What?” I ask.

“Did I really ask if you were single last night?”

I smirk slightly. “Yes. Then when I said no, you got all whiny about how that sucked because you wanted to ask me out. Because I was pretty and smart and funny and nice. Oh, and you liked my smooth skin.”

Snow turns more red than a tomato, then holds his face in his hands. “I hate drunk me.”

I laugh and shift closer to him. I peel his hands away from his blushing face, holding them both in mine. “I actually think drunk you is pretty adorable. He fawns all over me. It's cute.”

He glares. “You just like being praised. It feeds your massive ego.”

I chuckle, bringing his knuckles to my face. I kiss them softly. “A bit. But mostly I like watching you be so happy and giggly. It’s hilarious. Even if you still can't carry a tune.”

He smiles at that. We're both aware of his horrible musical skill. “Well, I'm glad that happy, off key singing, drunk me entertains you.”

“He most certainly does. But now, I think hungover you needs to sleep it off.”

Snow groans and nods, resting his forehead on our joined hands. “Damn right. I feel like I've been hit by a lorry.”

“Then sleep , love. I'll get a bowl in case you're sick again.”

Simon shifts so he's back in his stomach. He buries his face in the pillow, clutching it tightly. “Thank you, love,” his muffled voice strains out. My hand slowly drops from his, letting his arm gently hit the bed.

When I return with a metal mixing bowl and water, Simon is back to snoring and drooling. I place the bowl and bottle on the floor. He looks so peaceful. I remember all the nights I watched him sleep back at Watford. How he would curl up in a ball and whimper because of his nightmares. He’s told me about those nightmares. He’d dream of people dying. Penny, Agatha, even me. Sometimes it was the Humdrum doing it, but most of the time it was himself . He dreamed of going off and destroying everything and everyone around him. Becoming the living bomb everyone thought he would be.

Simon has that dream less and less nowadays. Sometimes, he’ll still wake up sweating in the middle of the night. And I have to calm him down and remind him that he’s not going supernova, that he's not hurting anyone, that we're all ok. But those nights are now a rarity rather than the norm. He’s learning to be happy more, too. Now that he isn’t bearing the weight of being the Chosen One, he can afford the time to see a movie, or take a nice walk, or go out to a bar with his friends. That’s why it’s good to see him drunk. Because he’s carefree enough to get giggling, singing, plastered.

I brush some hair out of his face. He smiles softly. I lean down and kiss that mole on his cheek, the one I wanted to kiss since we were 12. Thank Merlin I’m able to now.

“I love you, Simon,” I say very quietly, so only he can hear.

“Love you too,” he replies sleepily.

I sigh. I feel like a wistful love struck schoolgirl, but I couldn’t care less. He settles comfortably into his pillow even more. I walk around, putting my coffee on the other table, and lean back against the headboard. I take out my phone, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. Suddenly, I feel a warmth brush against my cool skin. Snow’s fingers are reaching out towards me. I loosely hold his hand, running a thumb over his knuckles.

I think of all that led here, from the Humdrum to drinking liquor, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

Author’s Note: There you go. My drunken Simon fic. Went way longer than I thought it would be but I like it :)

PSA: Coffee does not help with hangovers. Don't try it at home.

#snowbaz #baz pitch #simon snow #penelope bunce #micah #fluff #snowbaz fic #drunk boy #drunk singing #mysnowbazfic

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hellothisisourhouse · 6 years

Text

Birth Story #2

Pic: my last week of being pregnant, Oscar at 1 day old, Oscar last week.

Getting ready to birth baby #2 should have been a piece of cake, but instead it came with a whole new set of worries and things to think about. Being pregnant was much harder at the end - maybe being a couple years older, or maybe taking care of a toddler at the same time - the last few months dragged on like crazy. I’ll especially never forget the bus rides when I was taking Lois to/from the nanny share before/after work - the looks I would get at 8 months pregnant lugging an almost 2 year old (and enough baggage for her day at nanny share and my day at work) around on the 7 line (a very busy bus). At least I always got a seat, even if like 10 people had to move out of the way for me to get there!

Same warning as last time - this is a birth story, so if those things gross you out, don’t read this. I haven’t written the rest yet, but I’m guessing there will be some yucky stuff and not just a little bit of drama. If you love it, read on. If not, look away! There’s lots of other fun reads out on the internet :)

I try not to compare everything about this birth to the first one, but inevitably that’s what happens. At the time when I was anticipating it, it was my only point of reference! In any case, I would say my biggest question (like a dying-of-curiosity question) was - how will I know I am going into labor? The first time my water broke to begin labor, but statistically that’s not the most common way to start. Normally it’s with contractions and since my first birth was (weirdly) almost contraction-free at the beginning - I wasn’t sure I would understand the feeling of laboring at home, or know when exactly to go into the hospital. Also, I had been totally mentally convinced that Lois would arrive late - and then she came 10 days early, which is also statistically not normal for first borns. So when would this new baby decide to party? To say I was on the lookout for signs is an understatement - I was pretty obsessed.

This time around I had had some braxton hicks contractions (I had none the first time), which felt like mild back cramps in the weeks preceding the big day. They were infrequent and I really wasn’t sure that’s even what it was - it’s hard to separate all the different aches and pains. At one antenatal appointment (I got a ton of extra appointments, since I was SUPER OLD aka 35 yrs old), we were talking to a nurse about when I should schedule an induction, should we go way over our due date, and she said “I don’t think you’ll make it to your due date” with a little knowing smile. I have no idea how she knew, but when your full time job is monitoring super pregnant moms and relaying their monitoring results back to them, you probably get good at predicting these things. She was right.

So my mom made it up to the Bay Area about a week before the due date (which was Sep 2). We had a few days to bop around together, which I can’t really remember right now - although my instagram feed reminds me that we went to Ikea. We were all excited to have her in the house, especially little Lolo. Unrelated to my mom being there, but also in the “lead up to the big day” category, a couple days in advance, I started to lose my mucus plug. When I would go to the bathroom, stuff would come out - not anything huge, just like discharge, and once it was weird colors (sorry for the gross out factor, but this is supposed to be helpful for any other moms in my situation who are waiting around and just begging for a sign). I googled imaged searched probably the worst thing I have ever had to search to verify what it was.

Ok, on to the big day - the day that I would finally find out how it was going to go down. I would say it started around dinnertime. My mom was making tortilla soup in the kitchen and I was playing with Lois on the floor. When Brian came home from work he took her outside to play in the backyard, and I just fell asleep right on the floor where I had been playing. I woke up when dinner was ready and felt so discombobulated - I had never done something like that before! At dinner, my usually starving pregnant self stuck to one bowl of soup and just didn’t feel like more (normally I would be into seconds or thirds territory for sure). In retrospect I know what these 2 out-of-character things mean, but of course I didn’t at the time.

After dinner we started Lois’ bedtime process and got her sweetly off to sleep. At that point I had started to feel like a lot of cramping - mild, but it kept coming back every so often - not something I had experienced before. I opened the notes app on my phone to record the times of the cramps around 7pm, but they were so far apart and random that I stopped and deleted the times. I usually shower every other night, but I randomly decided I wanted one on my off night - maybe hoping to stop the achy feeling, or maybe I subconsciously knew it would be a while until my next one.

We all headed to bed for the night - I can’t remember if I mentioned the cramps to Brian or not - I was feeling superstitious or something, like I should keep this a secret. By 10:30pm, I thought ok I’ll start recording them again just in case. As we lay there in bed, I took out my phone every time my back hurt and jotted down the minute - 10:34, 10:41, 10:54, 11:05, 11:13... Finally after an hour or so, I showed Brian - do you think this is anything? I was confused because it was so gentle - in the movies I’d be hanging on to doorways and deep breathing at this point. Brian is always more aware of things than I am, and he said - yes, let’s call the nurse line now. It took a couple calls and call backs, and I told them about the (maybe?) contractions, the mucus plug, and at one point I said I think my water is leaking (even though I’m still not sure if it did or I just peed a little). I finally got on the phone with the actual midwife that I would end up delivering with - she asked me some key facts about Lois’ birth (how it was pretty fast) and where we lived (not that close) and she told us to come on in. I’m glad we listened.

Our bags were already packed - we grabbed a few last minute items, and tiptoed downstairs where my mom was in the guest room. I have a gap in my contraction notes from 12:22-12:48, so that must be when we were getting out the door. It was sort of fun to wake her up and be like “We out! Thanks for taking care of Lois” and whisk out into the dark night. Contractions picked up on the way in the car - by the time we got to the hospital they were a mere 2 mins apart and feeling MUCH stronger. The last contraction I wrote down as we pulled into the parking lot was 1:01. I remember walking from the car to the building and stopping at a concrete pillar to hold on to it while a contraction passed.

They took us into triage and had me pee into a cup for some reason. I can’t remember a lot from triage (vs last time when it was like the most chilled out relaxing hour of watching little cute mini contractions on the monitor). I was pretty cranky already as each contraction was intense. I’ll have to ask Brian what exactly happened in there - but the next thing I remember they were wheeling me on a gurney into the birthing room. In my mind, they were asking me as we wheeled down the hallway - do I want an epidural? And I basically panicked and yelled yes. I knew that things were probably too far along, so that made the decision confusing, but I also did not want to feel any extra pain that I didn’t need to.

They got me to the room, which was bright and full of people (vs last time when the birthing room was all dark and empty and sleepy). I sat on the side of the bed and the anesthesiologist came in to prep for the epidural. I’m not sure how far along they got, but as I sat there, I suddenly felt a big gush and THEN my water really broke. I was kind of in shock, and looked at Brian and mumbled “water, water” and he thought I was asking for water to drink. It took me a bit to get the words out “my water broke!” and then it was all over the place.

I sat there a minute more and then yelled at everyone that I needed to push - that was a specific bodily feeling I remembered clearly from last time. They did a cervix check and said yep you need to push. This part was a bit harder than last time - I think maybe baby was bigger and I just had less time to wrap my mind around what was happening. I think I even lightly protested - like, I take it back, I don’t really want to push. But the whole team said yes, it’s time. So we pushed for a few mins, taking breaks in between - it was very uncomfortable and I can’t say I was the most cooperative person in the world. I got a bad tear last time and that was probably in the back of my mind. At least they had given me nitrous oxide that I could suck from a mask, which is still my favorite thing ever - just a good distraction and I need a good distraction when something this crazy is happening to me. Brian was by my side the whole time, and (also unlike the movies) I remember thinking he was the only person in the room I wasn’t mad at. Everyone else was annoying me with cervix checks and telling me to push, but he was just there for support, to see us through.

In the end, I was glad they made me do it because out came Oscar - they put his purple wiggly body on my chest and he cried a great cry. He had a mop of black hair, so that was something different for us! His birth time was 2:12am - meaning we had only been at the hospital (parking, intake, triage, and birth) for an hour and eleven minutes total. That’s what I call efficient! The good news is I did not tear nearly as bad this time - yay for second baby luck.

I had asked Brian in advance to make sure to take some pics, since I didn’t get any the first time - but between the hair net the anesthesiologist had put on me, the badly chosen purple bra, and the whole disheveled scene, these pics will never see the light of day. Things quieted down a lot after that, most of the staff left, and we just enjoyed being with our sweet new baby boy. All his tests looked good and we moved into the recovery room for a few days.

I don’t want to go into too many other details, because the birth story is technically done. Oscar had a heart murmur - a “very loud” one according to the million doctors that UCSF had milling around. They took an echocardiogram and asked us to come back in 2 months for follow up - but everything was fine and the hole causing the murmur closed itself up by then. We had visits from the grandparents and big sister - she loved Oscar off the bat, but was a bit cautious. Over the months she has grown to love him more and more and it’s so sweet to watch them together. Good job, little Oscar boy - we can’t wait to see how you grow into yourself day by day.

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hellomissmabel · 8 years

Text

“Bubblegum pink really ain’t my colour, doll”

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: FLUFFY

Word count: 3.634

Summary & A/N: It’s originally based on an idea I got from @hymnofthevalkyries but then I saw this prompt and it actually comes pretty close to what I had in mind. I also took the liberty to use the four prompts (in bold) provided by @the-vigilante who requested a fluffy Bucky x reader. Here you go hun ❤

When I look at pictures of when I was younger, I barely even recognise the girl in them. I was such a sickly child, with long white hair, light grey eyes and a translucent skin. That girl is long gone and has been replaced by a grown-up woman with rainbow coloured hair and a hard to pin down eye colour. Born with a mutation that allows me to switch from one colour to another depending on my mood, I caught the eye of Nick Fury and was recruited by the Avengers shortly after he found out about my other ability.

I’m not a kick-ass assassin like Natasha Romanova or a super soldier like Steve Rogers, but I do know this pretty neat trick that certainly comes in handy during interrogations. You see, I know fairly quickly when you’re lying to me and when you’re telling the truth. I’m basically a human lie detector and it annoys the hell out of Sam but hey, I can’t help it that I was born this awesome!

Other than that, things are pretty fly at the Avenger’s compound. Like I already mentioned, I was born with white hair, associated with light, goodness, innocence and purity. I mostly return to my original shade when I’m either sleeping, not paying a lot of attention (and Steve always scolds me for it, bummer!) or just very concentrated on something.

My eyes usually have this silver glow about them, yet their hue changes into the same colour as my hair given how I’m feeling at the moment. For example, when I’m excited I look like a rogue canary with amber eyes and Sam just can’t resist the urge to tease me about it because he thinks yellow is such a shitty colour.

Whenever I’m running about the lab, conducting experiments with Tony and Bruce, it’s always a soft olive green. It symbolises peace and safety which is only fitting as the lab is the first place I go to when things get a little too much to handle. It’s not easy adjusting to a life away from my family and friends and I get overwhelmed pretty fast when I sense someone’s not being completely honest with me which, frankly, happens quite a lot – you would be surprised at the amount of white lies that are told around the compound!

Fortunately everyone understands and they leave me be until my true colours resurface, indicating it’s time to get out of hiding again. Slowly but surely the green will translate into a paler shade of blue, linked to depth and stability as well as loyalty and wisdom. It’s the exact same reason why my hair and eyes take on a dark blue hue when I’m around Steve, the personification of knowledge and integrity.

I try to keep my Nymphadora Tonks game strong when I’m at the base but prefer to keep a low profile when walking the streets. Having this particular mutation can get me in quite a lot of trouble when I’m out there in the field and I used to wear a wig every time the team went out on another assignment. But wigs are itchy and I just don’t feel like myself whenever I wear one.

So I spent countless nights trying to figure out how to control my biggest problem, my unruly hair, which means control my emotions until the intensity would subside into a more neutral colour like, say, black. Black, connected to power, elegance and mystery. Exactly my cup of tea.

On other days however I’m fuming with rage, like that one time when one of Tony’s conceited new interns called me a fat, brainless and immature bimbo. My hair almost caught fire by the angry red shade it turned into, my eyes a violent shade of black pushing back my natural light grey irises.

Such situations quickly subside and I usually find myself into a transitional state for a couple of days, orange indicating the shift between passionate red and cheerful yellow. When the emotional storm inside of me blows over and I’ve cooled down a bit, I find myself staring at a brown-eyed brunet in the mirror, brown equalling stability of mind.

Although the colour spectrum is very wide and I’m basically a hot mess, there’s one colour I’ve never exhibited before. That is, until the day Bucky Barnes walked into my life and I surprised everyone, including myself, with just how much I instantly took a liking to him.

“Avengers assemble!,” Tony declares loudly as he steps inside the common area, followed closely by Bruce.

“Stop stealing Steve’s lines, Tony. It’s hardly original,” Nat calls out from on the couch where she’s snuggled up to Clint.

Tony sends her a dirty look. “Well, I’m sure Capsicle doesn’t mind. Besides, it’s not like he’s taken a patent on it or something,” he snaps back with his usual amount of sass and sarcasm. “Now, what I wanted to talk to you about. We’ve got a new guest, Steve decided it’s time for the Winter Soldier aka his brother from another mother to move in with us. They’re down the hall, waiting for my signal.”

“You mean THE Winter Soldier? As in, sergeant James Buchanan Barnes?,” you gasp in excitement, your brain going into overdrive as you try to assess this new and exciting information. You’ve heard countless rumours about the Winter Soldier but that didn’t stop you from hacking into the security system and reading up on his more personal files. Based on what you’ve gathered so far, James Barnes is a man of outstanding character and a born leader who you have been dying to meet ever since he resurfaced again.

“That’s just bloody brilliant,” you exclaim while nudging Wanda’s side who just rolls her eyes at your child-like enthusiasm. Well, it’s not every day you get to meet the man you’ve heard Steve gush about so many times in the past.

Yet nothing could have prepared you for this, your mouth dropping open at the sight of the metal-armed soldier walking next to Steve as they enter the living room area. He’s dressed casually in black slacks and a red Henley, showcasing a generous amount of muscle and you gulp audibly at the inappropriate thoughts screaming for your attention. You know Thor is a God but damn, if Thor is a God then what the fuck does that make Bucky Barnes?

“Oh fuck me already,” you mutter under your breath. You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t notice the team staring at you, collectively amused and grinning like complete fools.

“I believe that can be arranged,” Sam replies in a sing-song voice.

“You’re seriously like a man-child,” you retort instantly.

“And you’re Satan,” Sam hisses through his teeth.

“Did you just hiss at me?,” you huff in disdain. “What?,” you try again, getting angry at their obstinate silence, addressing the crowd gathered around you only to be met with a fit of giggles once more.

“Y/N, your hair,” Natasha chuckles whilst pointing at you with mischievous eyes, “It’s pink, like cotton candy pink. It’s never been pink before.” She gives you a knowing smile and her remark was met by a series of oh’s and ah’s from other team members and even a snort from Clint.

Pink, the colour of romance and femininity. As if it’s not bad enough that your cheeks are already flaring up with the heat running through your system, sending colour rising from your neck all the way up to the tips of your ears.

“The colour of looooooooooove,” Sam chimes in and Steve playfully jabs him in the side, Sam retaliating instantly and swatting back at him.

“Oh, look, her eyes are beginning to turn pink too!,” Tony exclaims, clutching his chest as a bouldering laugh escapes his lips.

“Guys, guys, shut it! Can’t you see you’re embarrassing the poor girl. Let’s give her some space, we can resume introductions later,” the blond super soldier interrupts and you thank your lucky stars for his consideration. He winks excessively at you (always the drama queen) just before sneaking out of the room, albeit dragging Tony with him who can’t stop snickering.

The room clears out pretty fast, Wanda blowing you a kiss before she disappears around the corner with Nat. You release a shaky breath thinking you’re alone at last. Well, alone if it wasn’t for an intriguing super soldier and former assassin staring back at you with fascination and borderline obsession.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do about it, this has honestly never happened before.” Your eyes drop to your lap only to glance back up and meet his curious gaze, a fond smile playing on his lips.

“Your hair,” he begins as he inches a few steps closer to where you’re leaning against the couch. “It’s very pretty.” His voice is low and hoarse, with an edge to it that makes it all the more sexy. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Bucky says as your hair goes from fuchsia to magenta to shocking pink at the obvious wonder lacing his gruff voice.

You take a moment to appreciate his handsome features, finding it soothing to just look at all that is Bucky Barnes, steadying your breathing in order to take your rampant hormones down a notch, his 5 o’clock shadow not helping one bit. But the true centrepiece of this Greek sculpture is his eyes, a stormy blue-grey you’ve never encountered before and you reckon will soon become your latest nightly fixation.

As your eyes scan his body as well, you notice the way his breathing picks up when you focus on his luscious lips. Meanwhile his eyes dart from your hair down to your eyes and even further down to your lips as well. “Pink suits you,” he chuckles darkly and you swear the temperature in the room has picked up a couple degrees. His eyes are pensive, concentrated on the phaenomenon playing out in front of his eyes.

“Th-thank y-you,” you stammer as he twirls a lock of salmon hair around his finger and your breath gets caught in your throat. Judging by the light red shade of your hair, you’re slightly (very) aroused and it looks like Bucky is struggling too. He then gingerly tucks the lock back behind your ear, clearing his throat and excusing himself before walking away in long strides.

Ever since that first day, there’s only one colour popping up whenever Bucky is around and you are rarely able to change it back. Some of the other agents even thought you’d dyed your hair pink permanently and even Steve is now giving you shit for it. It happens at the worst possible time, like when you’re busy sparring with Natasha when the door suddenly flings open to reveal a scarcely clothed super soldier, his shirt nowhere to be seen and his chestnut hair loosely tied back in a messy bun.

It doesn’t take much more than that, his eyes locking with yours and instantly colour rises to your cheeks. Soon your entire appearance gives away how truly affected you are by this glorious apparition. Natasha takes advantage of the opening in your guard and flips you over on the mat, landing flat on your back and grunting in pain. Bucky rapidly comes to your aid and offers you a helping hand, swiftly pulling you back to your feet. You thank him and he graces you with a shy smile telling you he likes this new colour on you.

Stunned by his words you turn around on the heels of your feet, jogging over to the life-sized mirror at the other end of the gym and sure enough, your hair is a watermelon pink and your pupils are blown wide, already glossing over with a soft pink hue. Let me remind you, pink evokes romantic feelings and you wish you could just turn invisible instead of being confronted by Nat’s prying eyes and avoid being pulled into a cross-examination later on. But now you just have to get out of there.

Hurriedly saying your goodbyes to Nat and Bucky, you rush past them towards the locker room, Bucky’s hand missing yours by an inch. He wants to ask you what is wrong, if he has said or done anything to upset you. Nat isn’t of much help either, she just shrugs as she murmurs “I’m too sober for this” followed by something about Y/N being a little nervous around new people.

It really doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing, the very second Bucky makes an appearance, your hair looks just as flustered as your cheeks, not to mention your dilating pupils and skyrocketing heartbeat. You mostly manage to talk (stutter) your way out of it, throwing some flimsy excuse about having forgotten something at the lab unless you’re actually at the lab and then fortunately Bruce comes to your rescue, asking you to fetch you a couple things for him in an adjoining room. But once you weren’t fast enough to slip away and Bucky’s metal hand caught your wrist causing you to stop dead in your tracks.

“Y/N, wait,” he says softly, his plump lips moving so deliciously the words almost fall on deaf ears, completely absorbed by his sinful mouth as your hair instantly turns darker.

Bucky seems to be debating what to say next, his teeth keeping his bottom lip hostage as he mulls over the words in his mind. “I – I might have said it before but this shade looks beautiful on you. It reminds me of a blushing rose.”

Completely and utterly dumbfounded by his admission, your brain having frozen over by the cold touch of the metal appendage, you throw him a quick smile before hurrying towards the nearest exit like you usually do. Bucky watches your retreating form intently, a pained expression and an ugly frown obscuring his features.

“What did I do this time?,” Bucky asks sadly, turning to Bruce for an explanation as to why you’re acting so off lately.

Bruce looks up from the petri dish he’s been working on, his brows knitted together in a thoughtful frown, smiling sympathetically as he sees the apparent distress in his friend’s eyes, saying “Maybe she’s just not feeling well. I dunno, maybe you should try asking her yourself?” before he focuses his attention back on the work in front of him.

You’re sitting on top of the kitchen counter at three a.m. in the morning, munching on a sandwich you made from some leftovers you found in the fridge. Since you can’t control your powers anymore around Bucky, you can’t accompany the others on missions anymore. Long story short, Steve benched you indefinitely until you either get a grip or tell, rather than show, poor clueless Bucky how you feel about him. You still haven’t made up your mind.

There’s a glass of milk resting on the counter next to you and as you blindly reach out to take it, you hear something rustling behind you, startling you from your inner monologue and you knock over the glass. Praise the Lord for Bucky’s quick reflexes, scooping up the glass mid-air and preventing it from spilling even more milk on the kitchen floor.

Gently balancing the glass in his hand, he sets it down on the other end of the counter. He then turns to look at you with a small smile playing on his lips, shrugging slightly and oh so adorably you feel a familiar heat pooling in your panties once more. Bucky is wearing nothing but some track pants slung low on his hips, exposing the ripped muscles of his chest alongside a perfectly sculpted Adonis belt. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to start drooling on site and you don’t need a mirror to know your hair has done it again.

“I’m so fucking clumsy. Sorry, Buck,” you apologise whilst trying to either evaporate into thin air or disappear into the surface of the kitchen counter instead of melting into a muddle at his feet in utter embarrassment.

“No worries, Y/N,” he chuckles softly, leaning against the kitchen cupboards opposite of you, crossing his arms over his chest and you can’t help but gasp a little at his bulging biceps. “Can I – uh, ask you a question?,” he inquires quietly, his voice barely a whisper compared to your raging heartbeat pulsating in your ears. While he’s waiting for your answer, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, smirking a little when he sees it has got you all hot and bothered.

“S-s-sure, fire away,” you mumble, averting your eyes to study the floor instead of how sharp his jawline is and how good that scruff would feel between your thighs.

He clears his throat, sporting that classic lopsided grin of his that has you weak in the knees and you’re fairly sure he can smell how turned on you are right now because surely that super soldier serum must’ve heightened his sense as well. Just your luck.

“I saw you talking to Steve the other day and your hair was this azure blue that matched the colour of his shirt and your eyes were such a deep cerulean and it got me thinking, why does she never show these kind of colours around me? Or when you were bickering with Sam over who drank the last bit of Thor’s Asgardian liquor and your hair was a gorgeous crimson. Or that time you and Wanda were so caught up in a tickle fight you didn’t notice I was staring at you and your hair was scarlet. But it wasn’t so much your hair that caught my eye as that golden spark in your eyes and that must’ve been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He momentarily stops his soliloquy to take a deep breath before continuing to speak his mind, baby blues set in determination. “I guess what I’m trying to say here… I mean, not that I have anything against pink, but… Are you afraid of me? Are you afraid to show me? Is pink like your safe colour or something because I completely understand if you don’t want anything to do with me,” he blurts out, suddenly very unsure of himself.

“I just think you’re drop dead gorgeous, Y/N, no matter what colour you’re wearing.” Bucky scratches the back of his head, missing the cheeky smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. His eyes flick downwards before shooting back to your face as you release a shaky laugh.

“Oh Bucky,” you coo as you jump of the counter and cross the distance between your body and his, moving to stand between his legs, leaning the tiniest bit against his broad frame for support and gently placing your right hand over his heart, squinting your eyes just a little as his muscles flex under your touch. He totally did that on purpose.

“I – I really like you. I’m incapable of thinking about anything or anyone else but you when you’re around. My mind just goes blank and all my thoughts, they all revolve around you. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

Bucky stares at you expectantly, wide-eyed and amused at your insecurity. His hands cups your face and he delicately brings his lips to yours, kissing you tentatively and tenderly before breaking away to gauge your reaction.

“I really like you, too” he confesses gingerly when he sees your mouth hanging open in surprise. “But bubblegum pink really ain’t my colour, doll,” he jokes and you let out a light laugh, lacing your fingers around his neck and pulling him back in for another kiss, sensually slanting your lips across his before kissing him deeply and passionately and with all the feeling in the world. Everything that’s left unsaid you pour into the kiss, every single emotion you are not capable to breathe or voice out, you evoke through the sheer power of love. Because you love this man and you have done so from the very moment you first laid eyes on him.

You part ways, panting and trying to catch your breath when Bucky twirls a lock of your hair around his pointer finger, much like he had done that first day. “Now this is more my colour,” he chuckles and you step away to retrieve your phone from the table top, using it as a mirror to assess the damage done. Your hair is a deep plum and your eyes have that violet hue you love so much. Bucky snugly tucks you in his chiselled arms and it’s a perfect fit, Bucky is even more beautiful up close. He’s holding you tightly, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

“Purple just happens to be my favourite colour,” he hums against your forehead, a low rumble resonating through his chest and sending shivers up and down your spine.

“Technically it’s lilac,” you retort with a grin, laughing lightly as you lean into him, your lips coming dangerously close to his again.

“I don’t care,” he breathes out, rough and raspy, his breath tickling your lips as his nose bumps against yours. “I love it.”

“And what about me? You love me?,” you ask hesitantly, a mixture of worry and longing swirling behind your eyes.

“I love you,” Bucky confesses before connecting his lips with yours in a searing kiss, a smile crossing your features once more. You both moans into the kiss when Bucky tilts his head in order to deepen the kiss and you run your fingers through his loose strands, sighing softly at the feel of his lips finally on yours.

You’ll never wear another colour more proudly than this one.

I honestly have no idea who to tag so I’ll just go with: @beccaanne814-blog @mrshopkirk @winterboobaer @kiwi71281 @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder @emilyinwonderland3 @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @dontbeamenacetotheforce @shamvictoria11 @bovaria @marvel-lucy @theariel525

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electricbluetimemachine · 6 years

Text

7th June

The battle is now one year old.

Sometimes it’s okay. Sometimes it’s like a punch right in your throat in the middle of the day. Or a gust of wind from nowhere brings back the scent of an orange post surgery paste = the smell of her illness.

Sometimes I’m totally fine. Sometimes I’m choking on my own laughter, not entirely sure that I should be able to laugh if she’s not around anymore.

The memory of me sitting in the bath, holding a shower head and realising that she is definitely dying. Opening the doors of our home and howling. Howling with pain that she will never come back to this place alive again.

Realising that there will be at least two more very horrible days ahead of us. The one they will tell us it’s all over and the day of the funeral. After it will be only better even though it will be the worst.

Why those days felt like taken out of a movie? The one you don’t really want to watch as you know too well it will make you feel really sad. Your every movement feels like it is out of your control, out of your body. It is not your reflection in the mirror with your terrified eyes staring back. Those are not your hands washing her teeth in the sink. It is not you holding a pink see-through hospital bag with all her belongings.

Time of seeing her signature for the first time since she died, those happy looking letters which I have seen some many times - as notes left on the fridge, letters to London, dedications in books - now they’re on her life insurance papers. Staring at me.

Smelling her clothes. Her every belonging became something sacred. I am wearing her belt. I have her perfumes, I don’t want ever to finish those two bottles.

Some people told me that I am strong and I didn’t really believe them, not sure if I do now.

I have learned that being strong means asking for help and opening up that you had a bad day without feeling guilty that people might not be ready for your breakdown.

Being strong is not being a whole piece at all times, but keep on falling apart and keep on putting yourself back together over and over again.

I miss her everyday. I dream about her often. I dream that I found the way, that we figured out in time what was wrong and we could fix it. Once I dreamt that something went wrong with the cremation and we will have to do it again. I dream about her on my wedding day, it doesn’t matter who am I marrying - what is important that she will be there helping me to get ready.

I dream about us hanging out together. I dream about her stroking my hair just like she used to, I would mess up my hair only to make it as long as possible. Sometimes in the morning I recall her voice in my head when she was waking me up.

I want to call her everyday.

That day a couple months into the grief when suddenly in the middle of the day I was making plan to go for a haircut and realised not only that she will never get another one, but that I was the very last person to wash her hair. I cried so hard that I couldn’t breathe. I run home from work and people on the tube were asking me if I am okay and random people were giving me hugs.

Through the first few months I cried so much that my tears didn’t have much salt in them left, but it is good to cry. Do not hold it in.

That was ( and sometimes still is) an another part - crying on the public transport. As soon you do it once, you are not embarrassed or scared to do it.

Just happens sometimes. Especially in the beginning I wasn’t even able to stand in that certain spot on the platform at White City, sometimes I was actually struggling to get on the train. Like just get on, sit down and go back home. Doing it was like agreeing to ‘ move on’ with your life and just keep on going. I didn’t want to ‘ keep on going’. I wanted for entire world just to fucking stop, not move anywhere. I was petrified.

I was angry. I was so angry. Like unbelievably fucking annoyed with the world. No, I didn’t blame God for taking my mum. Nothing like that. I was angry that my grandma who’s 94 years old and never really liked me is still alive while my mum died being only 59. That kind of angry. Not-a-nice-human angry way.

I had some much aggression within me that I have no idea what to do with. I wanted to scream as loud as possible. I wanted to punch walls. I wanted to destroy things.

Even a few months ago I had an ‘ anger attack’. I put my boxing gloves on and I was punching the wall scared but also happy that I could break my wrists. I took a plastic box and I was throwing it at the window. Louder was the sound and more that tupperware was destroyed better I felt.

When I started going to kickboxing classes every single time I stood in a front of a punch bag I was imagining that this is this invisible creature named ‘ Cancer’ and that I can finally punch and destroy it.

It helped. It really did.

If you know me well you’re aware that I’m not really a ‘ sporty type’. Come on, I broke my left arm at PE classes age 16 at little obstacle round. In a front of entire school seeing my arm being bended in a very weird way. Or that time when a basketball landed right on my nose - hence its current view. As the doctor said then ‘ you’re still growing. It will look okay’. I don’t really think it does, but it’s part of my face’s character now for good.

September last year I couldn’t even put two boxing gloves on, I didn’t know how to tight the belt around my waist, I couldn’t do one press up.

Now, I’m about to grade for my fifth belt. Red with a white stripe. Maybe sometimes I’m getting lost with ‘ front kick, roundhouse kick, front punch, reverse punch, front kick, slide back’ stuff. Maybe I need to work on my spinning kicks, but damn how do I enjoy sweating and not being able to catch my breath while doing another press up or punching with all my heart so hard that I feel I will pass out. Physical exercise is really very important part of taking care of your mental health.

Apart from being really angry I was also struggling with eating. Obviously when everything was going on nothing, literally nothing had any taste. After coming back from hospital my sister was preparing food for us. It could be anything, I didn’t feel any taste. I might as well eat some paper. I was hungry, but it was really just mechanical thing.

After coming back to London I felt an actual exhaustion of having to organise for myself three meals a day. It was a huge problem. It meant making multiply decisions, it meant an effort to go to the shop and buy it, it meant cooking it. I didn’t see a point in any of it.

I started with just making some comfort food. Yes, lots of pasta and tomato sauce was involved. Slowly taste of things started coming back.

You know that ‘ Someone Great’ by LCD Soundsystem lyrics ‘ The coffee isn’t even bitter Because what’s the difference’? That is exactly how it felt. What is the actual difference? The world doesn’t care that there is one wonderful human less on this planet. Even the taste of the coffee haven’t changed. For me the world just ended. Everything what happened since 7th June 2017 is After The World Ended. It’s Life Version 2.0.

I even have a playlist called ‘ after the world ended’. Which brings me to another crucial point - music. I can’t breathe without music. Overstatement? I don’t care what you think. It was always the very first thing in the morning to switch the radio on and very last thing to do before going to sleep. My entire life. Music in my home was everything. It was our fun, our background, our joy and even our hope.

On Fridays me and my mum would do grocery shopping and remembered ‘ Murder on the Dancefloor’ playing on the speakers when I was pretending to be a little kid and riding in the shopping basket. It was doing homework and helping with some chores with Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin or Queen bursting out of the speakers. It was New Years eves with my dad setting up that Pink Floyd’s song with all the clocks for the first strike of the midnight. It was me doing silly dancing to to Whole Lotta Love or Wake Me Up Before You Go Go or Dirty Dancing soundtrack. It was us watching ‘ Christiane F. diary’ aged 13 and hearing for the first time David Bowie. It was my teenage obsession with UK MTV 2 Rocks - and falling in love with Yeah Yeah Yeahs, The Strokes, Muse, Arctic Monkeys and so on. And boy, how I was dreaming about being in the country where everyone actually knows those bands and it’s obsessed with them as much as I am. Making silly posters with cut outs of Nirvana members, Muse and The Strokes.

Music helped me massively. It helps me everyday. I’m very, very grateful and happy that I got this music taste running in my blood. More importantly that I have so many songs that like little time machines bringing me back those to the moments when me and my mum were together. Memories tokens I can take everywhere with me.

After the funeral at the little gathering we were playing some music. I made the playlist. Playlist out of all our favourite tunes. My sister and me didn’t care if someone will think it’s inappropriate to play some of the tracks. We couldn’t fucking care less. It was playlist for her. Do you know what was the very first track? ‘ Europa (Earth’s Cry Heaven’s Smile’) by Santana of course. I swear I was listening to this song when still safe right underneath my mum’s heart in a womb. I don’t think I realised what is this title about until we actually played it then.

It was hard to get up every morning. Sleeping was the only time when you are not fully aware of the pain. I remember walking the tube corridor at Oxford Circus to get to the Central line and seeing all the people rushing and I wanted to scream to them ‘ there is no point of any of this! We are all gonna die! ‘. I remember looking around while sitting on the tube and imaging that everyone around me is dead. I was wondering who will be in a coffin and who will be in an urn. There were no faces anymore, just urns and coffins sitting next to me.

It wasn’t like a sudden realisation - ‘oh no wait Olga there is a point to all of it’. It was tiny parts of my soul screaming, it was laughing with my workfriends, it was dancing till the dawn, it was reading her cards and text messages knowing she will always want for me to enjoy my life to the fullest. It was keep on making plans.

Writing was and still is a major part of me going through it. Sometimes it was only ‘ I cried on the tube today’ or ‘ I haven’t cried today just yet’. Sometimes it was accidental poems, sometimes it was letters to her. Sometimes it was just me trying to gather my thoughts or to say how fucking amazing it is to have friends who can catch you when you fall. Or rather when you keep on falling.

They are there when in the middle of Friday drinks I start crying, there were there for me when I was scared of first Christmas without her, they were there cooking a dinner, they are there on whatsapp crying with laughter video calls , they are there to respond to ‘ shit day alert’, they are there to dance away at LCD Soundsytem gig.

They are there with their words, hugs and time - spreading metaphorical safety net underneath my feet. They are there for all my random craziness and chats about everything. It is okay to be a mess.

My friends weren’t afraid to talk to me when I was scared to spread this black shadow of grief, it didn’t freak them out.

I wouldn’t be able to go through all of it without my sister. Oh yes, you are ready for a soppy moment ‘ I’m so lucky to have her. We were always so close’ No, we weren’t. We had our moments when we didn’t talk for months while living in the same city. Now miles apart and waking up in a two different countries we were never so close and so honest with each other. We both learned to listen and to ask questions. We are now a team. Very strong team. I am proud of her and proud of her being such an amazing mum of wonderful twins and handling everything by herself. I have learned so much about womanhood, sisterhood and motherhood in the last year. More than I thought I ever will. More than I wanted to be perfectly honest.

During this year I have also perfected ‘ sliding down to the floor’ movement. Done so, so many times at various places including toilet at work when everything was just a bit too much to handle and there was no will left to make the next step.

Maybe you can see me everyday full of joy and laughter and maybe you think it is all okay. Sometimes it is not and i’m crumbling like a cookie - squashed, falling apart into a million pieces. What I do every single day is putting myself together. Over and over and over and just getting on with it and having the best time i can possibly have.

Losing a parent or someone extremely close to you, someone who’s death you were terrified of since you realised what death is, the person who was literally everything to you and was ALWAYS with you - it is like losing your own skin. Like i feel like the layer of it was taken and it will be never ever replaced.

I did looked up for some help. I was trying to get counselling - ended up with one very teary phone call. I couldn’t take them keep on asking me ‘ and how do you feel about it’ over and over again. Or just saying ‘ sounds like you have a plan’, ‘ just keep on writing’. I think I was just too scared to fall apart in front of someone I don’t know and take a layer off from my armour of strength.

Instead I wanted for someone to just take me and hold me, stroke my hair and say it will be okay somehow.

I totally understood why my sister got a dog straight after. Like seriously a week or two after. Lucky her - she has twins too.

I wanted a dog. I wanted twins. I wanted LOVE. It was like:

‘LOVE. NOW. PLEASE. LOVE so I can take care of something, someone, anyone. ‘ Glad to be past that point.

I have read somewhere that living after losing your parent could be compared to a tree growing over an obstacle - you never forget about it, you just learning how to live with it.

I like to compare all of it to swimming in the ocean, very deep ocean. Sometimes I manage to forget how deep it is, how I am actually by myself in London, trying to take care of everything, how I won’t find her anywhere and that sometimes life is unfair and I can’t call her to tell her about my day, my problems and she won’t give me an advice like only she could because no one knows me as she did and no one loves me the way she did. It will be different, but it will be okay and I am just keep on swimming. Left hand, breathe, right hand, breathe.

I think she would be proud of us - her two girls. Thanks to her we are made out of iron of love.

Dziękuję Mamu. Kocham Cie mocno.

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