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ptergwen · 3 years

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smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it.

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions.

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

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Sealing the Deal part 2

Summary: Dick has a perfectly reasonable idea.

a/n: There will probably be more parts to this since you people gave me so many ideas but for now here is some soft smut. Did I finish this just in time for the end of mermay? Yes.

warning: Attempt at soft smut

Main Masterlist

Part 1

"Let's get married."

It takes around a minute for you to even register the fact that Dick had even said anything at all and another to parse out the meaning behind his words. You look up from the piece you've been slaving over for hours while Dick dozed on your lap.

"Let's get married." He repeats earnestly.

You narrow your eyes at him. You... clearly missed at least 2 diatribes and 40% of this conversation. "Uh Dickie, my love, did I miss the part where you divorced me or did I sleep through it like I did when Wally was preaching about raw fish?" You set your tools down and pull his pelt more tightly around you, feeling oddly protective of it.

Seeing you wrapped up in his pelt never failed to make Dick's chest flutter; unfortunately, he had to focus on the matter at hand. "As I was saying, we're married but not in the human way. "

"Ah- Yeah, I see that but.. that seems entirely unnecessary."

"There's no harm in it." Dick says, looking at you with big hopeful eyes. No matter whether it’s his liquid seal eyes or his bright baby blues, you’re still a sucker.

He is definitely up to something. Dick always uses that look when he really wants something and you can already feel yourself falling for it. Who thought giving this man the cutest face in the world was a good idea? Who?! You sigh. Spousal homicide is a bad idea, you tell yourself.

"You're so lucky you're terribly cute," you huff, "you're also lucky that there's a ferry coming tomorrow."

You mentally calculate how much time the whole trip would take but you know all that arithmetic is useless when you hazard a look at your husband. Dick beams, dimples appear at the corners of his mouth, and makes the happiest little noises.

You lean over the railing, watching the sea and feeling the wind comb through your hair. A pair of arms wraps around you making you squeak.

Dick buries his face in your hair and he sweeps you into his arms. "How's the most beautiful creature in the world?"

"Dunno Dick, how are you?" You smile.

Dick sniffles. "You're not allowed to be this cute."

"Hypocrite." You laugh wrapping your arms around him.

He nudges his face against yours.

"Are you liking your first boat ride?"

"I could still swim faster." Dick hums.

You roll your eyes. "Sadly for us, I can't."

"It's ok," he says, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear," it just means you can't escape me on this boat."

"Pfffft!"

"You're saying that now but look who I have in my hold." He chuckles, lips brushing against your neck.

"We're in public you dork!" You squeal.

"And?"

You sigh."You just like embarrassing me."

"Yup. Just ask Jaso- What's that?!" Dick says pointing to a statue on the shore. It was tall and proud with hair cascading down like a waterfall with a visage as hard as the rock it's carved on. You narrow your eyes trying to recall what the local told your father when you were younger.

"Oh, it's... It's a sea goddess I believe or maybe a selkie." You shrug at Dick who looks at it in awe. You supposed this is the first time he's seen a statue that big.

"I thought you said the people on the mainland didn't believe in selkies?"

"Er... ok, so there are mainlanders who are more inland where I come from and there's people near the sea. No, there are more divisions than that but- Ok, so the place where I came from the sea wasn't as important but here it is so they probably have more folk tales."

"I guess that makes sense," Dick says burying his face in your hair. "Did you have any folk tales?"

"Some but it was mostly cautionary about maidens being stolen away."

"Guess you didn't listen to them, huh?" he says, "did they say anything about stealing hearts?" Dick winks one of those winks that only he could make cute.

You huff into your scarf. "More about eating them, I think."

"I can do that if you want." He smirks cheekily.

You pat his cheek, trying to be as irritatingly condescending as possible. "You're still not scary."

Dick takes your hand in his and brings it closer to his lips. He pretends to bite at your fingers, his sharp canines dragging along the skin and nipping at the joints. "It’s because I love you so much."

Dick alternates between gawking at perfectly common sights like large cargo ships and flocks of sheep on the cliff and teasing the life out of you for the rest of the ferry ride.

You are the tiniest bit mortified that several passengers have seen your husband drag his teeth over your skin and toss you in the air for the fun of it. Dick was horrible at keeping a low profile. Not that acting reserved would have mattered anyway given how everyone's eyes were always drawn to him.

You can't blame them, his laughter is infectious and his smile was enough to make the gloomy morning look like a bright summer afternoon. You really really don't blame them for gawking but you just wish they wouldn't.

Not even fifteen minutes onshore and you're reminded why you only ever went into town with your father. Being meek by nature, you're often the target for unruly sailors. It never got too bad, not enough for you to call the cops at least. You would be lying if you wish it wasn't such a common occurrence to have some random guy shove his hand down your back pocket and squeezes your ass.

You jump, nearly dropping the little map of shops your father had drawn for you a while ago. A man passes behind you snickering quietly and yeah, knocking his teeth in would be amazing.

"Hey buddy, do you mind apologizing?" Dick asks, his voice dangerously pleasant.

There's a gnawing sense of foreboding forming in your stomach. It squirms in your gut until you grab Dick's sleeve. "Dick," you hiss, "it's not worth it."

You'd looked at the man and sadly, it really wasn't worth getting Dick's face punched in on his first visit to the mainland. You don't think anything worth getting Dick hurt.

The men turn back to your and the dread in your stomach solidifies. Even your dad was never dumb enough to piss off sailors especially ones built like I train would be dented when hitting them.

"I don't see the problem, pretty boy," the man spits like he'd said the word fungus, "The lass doesn't have a problem with it, do you?" He leers at you. It makes your skin crawl. He steps closer, invading your space, and places a hand on your shoulder. "This lassy here and I go waaaay back." He says, sliding his hand down your arm. You have absolutely no doubt that this man is sloshed because you have never seen him before in your life. You are pretty plain, so that makes sense but yeah, this is the first time you've seen his mug.

"A lass like you shouldn't be dressing like that if you know what's good for you."You open your mouth to protest but only manage to tighten your grip on Dick's sleeve.

There's a split second between Dick flickering his eyes to you and the satisfying sound of a fist making contact with a jaw. The man falls to the ground narrowly avoiding smashing his head into the cobblestones.

"Get up and apologize to her." Dick growls, teeth bared. He pushes forward. You're about as stunned as the man on the ground. Dick's poised for a fight and you have no doubt he'll have no problem getting into a row. You need to stop Dick from doing anything stupid. You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing your eyes shut. You bury your face into his coat. You want to tell him that it's fine, that you're used to things like this, that you don't want him to get hurt. This whole thing isn't worth him getting hurt. You're not worth him getting hurt. But the only thing you can manage is a weak "It's not worth it."

Dick squeezes your hand. You're trembling and Dick feels awful for scaring you but he doesn't stop glaring at the man. He guesses he's made his point loud and clear. He softens a fraction, maneuvering you to his side and wrapping an arm around you. There's still a snarl caught in the back of his throat but contrary to popular belief, Dick isn't hot-headed enough to ignore you. All he wants to do now is get you to safety.

You squeeze him with your arms, your face still scrunched as if bracing for impact. "Let's go shopping for those rings, yeah?"

Dick sighs with an indulgent smile. "Ok, honey." He kisses the crown of your head. "I love you, I’m sorry."

"Don’t be sorry," you say, snuggling tighter into him. "You know I only want you and--” That wasn’t even the point. You are really bad at this. “--and you really should be more careful. What if you got hurt?"

"Did you miss that killer right hook? He sure didn't."

A small smile shapes your lips. "Moron."

"Still love me though." He says, bringing your knuckle to his lips.

You shake your head. "It's unfortunate really."

"You know the more time I spend here the less I believe the fact that you didn't know what selkies were," Dick says holding up another seal necklace.

You look at him, wince at the bruise blooming on his knuckle but continue. "My dad and I went into town twice a year and they were only ever day trips." You say, setting down a cheap shot glass with a blubbering seal. It wasn't strictly a lie. It was more of a guesstimate. You look away from him and mumble a "I thought they were called Setties."

Dick snorts loudly and you have a heart attack thinking he reverted back to his seal form. "Setties?" He snorts again and you think he's gonna suck in all the dust from the store.

"Yes, Setties." You repeat grumpily, "I was 7. Cut me some slack!"

"When have I ever cut you some slack?"

"Never."

"Mhm, exactly."

"Why do I love you again?"

"Because I'm the cutest person, you know?"

"I dunno, Dickie." You drawl, picking up a couple of little seal stuffed toys. They were cute with their round faces and distended bodies. Their black eyes didn't quite do justice to your favorite trouble maker but they're close enough in huggableness."These little guys could give you a run for your money."

Dick makes an affronted squawk. You hold them to Dick's face for inspection and ask: "Should we buy the black one or the white one?" Truly, a matter of life and death.

Dick scrunches his face in thought. "The black one obviously."

"But the white one looks cute too." You whine.

Dick gives you a grumpy pout. You ignore him. "Why don’t we get both?"

Dick crosses his arms. "Why-"

"Yanno... A pair like us..." You say, pulling them closer to your chest and looking up at him hopefully.

Dick looks at you wearily. "How could I argue against such a solid argument?" Dick says, tousling your already windswept locks.

"What do you think I’d look like as a seal?" You ask absently as you exit the store. You'd managed to drive the price down with a little haggling and a bit of distraction from Dick.

"Beautiful."

You grin at him. "Again buttering me up won't make me buy you more sweets."

"I can think of other things to eat." Dick says, his pink tongue darting over his lips as he looks at you.

You swallow, mouth feeling dry. Dick is horrible to you today.

The old antique shop was dustier than you remembered. Part of you suspects that the particles sprinkled on all the shelves is in fact just the old owner's cremated remains but you don't really wanna find out if it's true.

You comb through the shelves, feeling like a pirate in search of treasure. The expensive rings with their big rind stones were stowed away on a shelf behind the shopkeeper but everyone one knows that if you want the good stuff you have to search for it yourself.

Dick seems to be happy looking through all the strange knickknacks, so you carry on.

You nearly squeal with glee when you find a ring. It was a band of silver carved into the shape of a seal curling in on itself as it slumbers. You smile holding it close to your chest. "Give me your finger."

"That... is a very strange way to put it."

"Just give me your hand." You say holding out your own. Dick, still incredulous, puts his hand in yours. You bite back a smile as you put the ring on his ring finger. Your lips stretch even as you dig your teeth in. It was a good fit. You're embarrassed to say you were bouncing on your heel with excitement.The silver looks lovely against his tanned skin.

Dick inspects it. "And you said subtlety wasn't my element."

"It really isn't," you say, smiling down at his hand. "But I never did say it was mine either." You could easily find another ring if he doesn't like it but you're quietly hoping he does. You try not to watch his face, not read too deeply into his expressions.

"I like it. Let's try to find a matching one."

Much to your amusement, you did find something but it's.... You snort as you put it on.

"It kind of matches." Dick says wearily.

"It's a fish." You laugh.

"Um... it's a pretty silver fish."

"Absolutely ravishing, huh?"

"Exactly like my wife." Dick says, nipping at your ear.

Your ear burns and you cover it hastily.

"Let's just go pay for them." You say, shoving at him lightly.

"So you do like it?" He asks, peaking through your fingers.

"Yes, you dork. Now, stop being cute." You say, shoving him again.

"Never." He chuckles.

"Is this the statue from the harbor?" Dick asks, poking at the little replica on the shopkeep's counter.

"Aye lad, the natives worshiped the sea before we came along. Kooky fellows but they knew a thing or two about the sea. They even talked about the selkie. Those blood-thirsty women folk of the sea. "

Dick scrunches his nose. You press the heel of your palm to your lips holding back a laugh.

"Well, I’ve heard some different of stories." Dick says, leaning into the counter, his eyes shining mischievously.

The old shopkeep leans in, looking around. "Like what?"

Dick leans in a bit more, his voice hushed and conspiratorial. "I hear they try to trap fair maidens into marriage to bear children for them."

Dick winks unabashedly. You flush. "What?!"

"C'mon lad," the shopkeeper snorted like a walrus, "we all know that all selkies are women folk."

"That’s the thing," Dick says, resting his hands on his intertwined fingers. He grins. "I’ve been out at sea a while, my whole family has aaaaand," he drawls in his other voice. The shopkeep looks entranced. "We've heard of different tales."

"Do tell."

"My family have heard tales of male selkies, those who seek women to carry on the selkie way." Dick pushes off the counter, spinning around on his heel theatrically. "We heard of old lore when they used to kidnap unsuspecting women by the sea shore." You vaguely recall this version but it seemed like ages ago. "But now," he says, stepping closer to you. "Now, they are much more persuasive." Dick winks at you and you resist the urge to elbow him.

"I also heard they're quite persistent." You say, leaning against him.

"Quite." Dick says a little too fondly.

"Hnnn, never heard that one." The shopkeep says tilting his head. "Do you have anymore?"

"Oh, I have a ton of seafaring stories if you'd like. I’ve heard stories about the Cthulhu."

"Cthulhu?"

"The great horror of the deep."

"The only horror here is the lack of treasure chests." The shopkeep huffs. You would be inclined to agree if Tim and Damian weren't so good at finding them.

"Oh this is no tall-tale my friend," Dick says, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders, "we heard that he awakes once every 10 years to roam the deep seas. Why do you think boats go missing with no trace?"

Monsoons, you think.

"Like that submarine last summer!"

Dick nods sagely "Exactly."

You want to slap your palm against your forehead. There is no way he can believe that hokey, right? ... You are literally married to a selkie. Do you really have any room for skepticism? You sigh. You suppose not.

"The sea is a mysterious maiden just like those sires. A tricky bunch, slippery and smart not like mermaids."

"Have you ever heard one?!" The shopkeep nearly folds over the counter.

"Once when I’d been at sea for 4 months, I heard the most beautiful song in my life, kind of like a mirage but it was a misty night at sea."

The shopkeeper gasps.

You blink. This is news to you.

"Luckily, my father pulled me from the towboat before I set off towards it." You try to imagine it and somehow it's funnier than the idea of Dick being bloodthirsty.

Dick regails Bruce's spat with a sea witch and Alfred's horrifying tale with a kraken. Even you were enthralled by all his tales. Having the shopkeep thoroughly wrapped around his finger. He leans in close again. "Sorry, I got so lost. How much were these rings again?"

The man blinks as if resurfacing from a trance. "A sea-loving man like you? You can keep it for five coffers."

You gape at him, eyes blown wide. That’s less than what you pay for bread.

The man turns to you. "Lass, you better keep an eye on him. This one belongs to the sea."

He's... not wrong.

"You really are too kind," Dick says handing the money over.

"Anytime lad. Feel free to come back with more of your stories!" He calls out as you two walk out the door.

“Since when were you a sailor?” You ask, nudging your shoulder against his.

“Since Jay told me stories.” He answers, nudging back.

“So they were all made up?” You ask, shaking his arm.

Dick hums noncommittally.

You frown at him. “C’mon fess up, pup.”

“Not *all* of them. I just spiced up the truth, that’s all.”

“The sirens?”

Dick freezes.

“Wait, are sirens real?” You gape, pounding your hand on his chest.

“Well, kinda.”

“Kinda?!”

Dick walks ahead of you trying to avoid your question. He does the mature thing and plugs his ears with his fingers. You continue to pester him all the way down the street.

The scent from the bakery wafted in the air calling to both of you as you two continue to bicker. Your stomachs cry out in a chorus. You look at your watch. You knew you'd forgotten something.

"I'll get us something to eat," Dick says, clearly staring at the cupcakes. Getting cupcakes wouldn't hurt. It would be better than getting an actual wedding cake.

You shake your head. "I might sit for a bit." You say handing him your purse and wrenching the bags from his grip. He huffs but doesn't complain.

You park yourself on a bench just outside the bakery. Going to town is just as exhausting as you remember it being. You lull your head back, looking to the sky. What are the odds that it's safe to just doze off here on the bench? Probably pretty low.

Dick watches you from a window, snickering. You were so cute when you're nodding off. He should probably ask if they sell coffee too because you look like you're going to need the entire pot.

He lets a woman go in front of him because Alfred taught him manners and not because he was delighted to see you nearly fold into your shopping bags. You startle and yelp then straighten up. Great seas, you're so cute.

"Hey handsome, can I get a name?"

Dick turns to the woman with an amicable smile. "Oh, the name's Dick."

"I'm ..." Dick is barely paying attention when he sees you take out one of the rings you'd bought with a stupidly happy smile on your face as you try it on. You look up at your hand and Dick can't help the twitch of his mouth.

You wave to him, feeling his eyes on you. He waves back with a thousand-watt smile.

There's a hand sprawled on his chest. "I've never seen you here before." The woman purrs. Dick steps back, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm from out of town-"

"That explains it." She says, batting her eyes.

Dick's not too concerned, not when you've just disappeared from his sight. Dick's about to run outside when he feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist.

"My husband and I are just here for a day trip to run some errands." You huff glaring at the woman.

Dick wraps an arm around you, chuckling at the priceless expression on your face.

"Dickie, did you want to introduce me?" You ask sweetly.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name." Dick says, feeling genuinely bad because he really wasn't paying attention. In his defense, you were distracting him.

"I'm Mia."

"I'm (Y/n)." You say trying not to puff your cheeks. You clearly just want the woman to go away.

Dick wants to pinch you for being so cute. The disgustingly sweet aura you two radiate was enough to make the woman go away. Much to your relief and Dick's amusement. Dick lets himself sink into your embrace.

Dick pinches your cheek as you get the bread from the counter. You swat his hand away with a loaf of slightly stale bread you were gonna rework later. "What?!"

"Nothing, you're just so damn cute, honey." Dick laughs, pinching your cheek again.

"Says the dork who punched someone." You say, pecking him on the lips.

Dick rolls his eyes. "He totally deserved it."

"Sure, sure."

Ok, he did.

Dick pecks your lips. "Let's go find you a bouquet and a minister so you can keep that ring on."

You flush not noticing that you haven't taken the ring off. Dick looks down at you like he's the luckiest man in the world.

“Will it still make you happy?” Dick asks, fidgeting in front of the courthouse.

You raise a brow at him prompting him to elaborate.

“Getting married without a proper ceremony, I mean.”

Ah. You clutch the bouquet of cornflowers to your chest, twining your finger with his. “As long as I have you it’ll be perfect.”

Dick sniffles. “Stop saying things like that.”

“You started~”

Dick presses his forehead against your, letting out a low trill. “I can’t wait to sign on the paper and make you my wife. Officially.”

You nudge your nose against his. “I can’t wait either.”

The minister looks between the two of you suspiciously, probably looking for signs of which one of you suggested eloping. “You may now say your vows.”

Dick takes out a crumpled sheet of paper with yellowing edges. In a cool crisp voice, he begins to speak:

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

The wind rises in your chest, tears welling up in your eyes. You try to keep yourself together.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hope, always perseveres.”

You cup your hand over your mouth, your father’s words coming to life through Dick’s voice.

“Love never fails.”

Dick reaches out to you, wiping the tears running down your face. You don’t know if Dick knows how much that meant to you but you’re endlessly thankful.

You feel flush. You’re not really sure you could follow that up. God, you really should have prepared more. You take a deep breath and will yourself not to turn tail and run.

Set me as a seal upon your heart,

as a seal upon your arm;

for love is strong as death,

passion fierce as the grave.

Its flashes are flashes of fire,

a raging flame.

Many waters cannot quench love,

neither can floods drown it.

If one offered for love

all the wealth of one’s house,

it would be utterly scorned.

Dick looks at you, fondness curving his lips. You smile back at him sheepishly.

The minister clears his throat. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Dick picks you up and spins you around then brings you close to kiss you. You giggle at his theatrics. In the corner of your vision, you could see the minister just looking extremely tired.

“Give me the bouquet.”

You don’t mainly because you have a policy of making people explain things before you do anything and also because you were hoping to throw the bouquet yourself.

Dick tilts his head. “Uh, give me two.” He pauses. “Please?” “Will you promise me this won’t curse anyone?”

“Just because my dad’s girlfriend is a sea witch does not mean I curse people.”

“And you feel absolutely no need to unpack that, huh?”

“Sweetie, pleeeeeease.” He gives you the big eyes and you silently wonder how selkie divorce works.

You hand him two flowers. He pinches off the stems and says: “Hold out your hands.”

“Can I at least know what kind of ungodly ritual my husband is suckering me into?” You huff as he puts one of the cornflowers in your palms.

“It’s more superstition really. My mom used to say that if you tell a flower about your love for someone and let the sea carry it away, then your love will be able to weather storms.”

You want to tell him that based on the stories the sea had nothing to do with the ferocity of his parent’s love but when you look back into the glitter of nostalgia in his eyes you know that there is nothing for it.

You hold the cornflower close, whispering promises to it, an endless litany of devotions that you hope only the sea will hear. Dick beside you does much the same with regular pauses and additions to his. When you’re both finished, you let the flowers fall harmlessly into the water and watch them, despite all odds, drift together in the ocean.

Dick nuzzles you into the floor. You lay flat on his pelt as Dick hovers over you. He kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. You hum and slide your hands up his back and part your lips to give him access. Dick pulls away, dragging his lips down your face. His teeth graze on the skin of your neck. Feeling ticklish, you giggle. He smiles pressing another wet kiss to your skin before pulling back. You whine already missing the close contact.

"I think we forgot something." Dick says, gently grasping your wrist and kissing it.

You furrow your brow. You play with his hair as you try to think. "Pretty sure we did everything," you mumble. You shiver when you feel Dick's teeth catch on your pulse, his luminescent eyes staring at you intently. "I'm telling you, sweetheart, you're forgetting something."

You groan. It would be easier to think if Dick's lips weren't on your skin. "We've gotten the rings, thrown the rice, and hit Wally in the head with the bouquet..." You bite back a squeak when Dick sucks a hickey onto your wrist.

"Getting warmer, darling."

You flush. You try to control your breathing but your skin feels so hot against his. You and Dick have met with a minister and he's also carried you over the threshold... All that's left is...

You can feel Dick's hand slide up your shirt, his hand warm against your chilly skin. "Consummation." You whisper, swallowing thickly.

Dick's eyes are bright and mischievous in the firelight. "Bingo." He lets go of your wrist and lowers himself to press a hungry kiss on your lips; it was all tongue and teeth as his hips move against yours. He pinches your nipples between his fingers drawing out a gasp from you. Dick takes this chance to deepen the kiss. He groans into the kiss when you tug at his hair.You moan against him, wrapping your legs around his waist trying to pull him closer. Your movements are clumsy, speaking to your inexperience. Dick is going to take his time with you.

Dick kisses your nose and pulls away. He can’t resist. Dick drags the shirt slowly over his body. He hears your breath hitch and a vain sort of pride fuels Dick’s ego. It was one thing for other people to tell him he was pretty. It was an entirely different thing to have you look at him with so much awe and reverence. That look in your eyes always makes his skin prickle with delight.

You trace the shape of his muscles with your fingers, your mouth parted slightly as you drink in the sight of him. Dick is no less awe-inspiring than the first time you saw him. You marvel over the scars crisscrossing his chest and arms. None of the imperfections on his skin ever managed to dull his beauty. Unfairly, they only enhanced it and took your breath away every time you noticed a new detail about him. Your hand drifts down to the V of his abs; the tough makes him tremble as it dips closer to the hem of his pants. Dick takes in a sharp breath before kissing you again. It was partly because he could never get enough of your lips and partially to get your attention.

“Honey, I want to see you too.” He whispers into your lips.

Your body locks up at his words and a heat spreads across your chest, your neck, and up to your ears. Your mouth feels so dry all of a sudden and your feet turn into blocks of ice. What if Dick finds you repulsive? What if he sees you naked and he can’t stand what he sees? Will he leave or will he smile through it all the while gritting his teeth through it? You’re not pretty, not the way Dick is and you certainly can’t measure up to the other Selkies you’ve met. How the flying fuck were you supposed to compte with Babs or Kori? You seriously consider running away and hiding in your room until you feel Dick’s teeth graze against the column of your neck.

“Please.” He breathes and his voice is so thick with want that it’s enough for you to forget the desire to melt into the baseboards even for just a moment. You don’t want him to be disappointed, to know that he’s traded down. You’re scared. You don’t want to be but you’re fucking terrified.

“It’s ok,” he whispers. “I know you’re nervous.” He kisses your forehead. Dick knows he needs to be patient. He’s waited to feel all of you for this long. He’s willing just to wait a bit more if it means you’re comfortable.

You close your eyes, grabbing the hem of your shirt. Dick kisses your eyelid. He bites his lip, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into your flesh. It’s so supple and hot against his. Instead, he busies himself by helping you out of your bra but his fingers are clumsy with his brain too full of your skin. You giggle as you both fumble for the clasps.

Dick wastes no time peppering your chest with kisses once you’re completely bare. “So pretty.” Dick purrs against your chest. He nuzzles into the valley of your breasts as he feels your breaths even out. Sliding his hands up and down your sides reverently, he makes certain that you know just how beautiful you are with every bite, every kiss, and every touch.

His attention goes to your breasts. You arch your back as Dick begins rolling your nipples between his teeth. He savors all the little gasps and mewls you make. "Dick." You sigh out his name happily. Dick groans, hips gyrating against yours. "Dick." You repeat, tugging at his hair. You rock your hips in time with his.

Your voice is driving him insane. The way his name rolls off your tongue like silk fries his nerves. All he wants to do is make you scream it over and over while he takes care of you and lets you know just how good you feel against him.

"That's it baby, let me make you feel good."Dick says, giving your nipple one last lick before taking care of the other. "I wanna make you feel so good, sweetheart."

The husky quality of his voice makes you shiver. Your fingers travel down his back, fingernails lightly scraping against his skin. He trembles against your as you slide your hand down his chest and down his pants. Your fingertips brush against the head of his member. You wrap your hand around his cock, teasing his head with your thumb. Your thumb is wet with his precum as Dick pants softly into your skin. Dick can't help but move against your hand.

"Sweetheart," he grunts, " I can't... I-"

Dick grasps your wrist, pressing a kiss to it before pulling it over your head. You whine. Dick's breaths tickle your ear as he tries to steady them. He kisses your cheek and nibbles on your ear. Dick grabs your other arm and pins it down next to the other, pinning both hands with one hand. You squirm underneath him, trying to break his hold.

"Let me take care of you." He says, trying to level his voice but you're making it so hard.

You drag your leg up his calf. Dick brushes his lips down your neck, sucking a hickey into every available surface of your skin on the way down your hips and murmuring ‘I love you’ as he does.

"Dick, please." You moan.

"Sweetheart," Dick says, biting the soft flesh of your hip.

You wriggle in his grip causing the hand wound around them to tighten. Dick watches you intently as he bites another hickey into the flesh or your hip. You gasp out his name and Dick can feel his cock twitch. He needs more.

“Shhhh, I know, Honey. Shhhhhh.” Dick says, kissing along the hem of your pants before his teeth catch on the fabric. Dick tugs the button free and pulls the zipper down with his teeth. You think your heart stops. Every little thing he does drives you up the wall. He hooks his fingers to the top of your pants and pulls them down slowly. You can feel the fabric drag against your skin as Dick presses I love yous up your leg.

Dick bites lightly at your ankle as he tosses your pants over his shoulder. Dick licks his lips, they’re plush and glossy from the saliva. He’s looking at you with so much love and adoration that you feel yourself melt. You’re suddenly painfully aware of your nakedness. You snap your legs shut shyly, withdrawing your ankle from his hold. You curl in on yourself, muttering an apology.

He shakes his head, chuckling softly. Dick pushes the hair out of your face. He presses his forehead against yours, kissing you softly and running his hands up and down your sides. Your legs slowly open to let his body closer to yours. You just want to feel his skin against yours.

"I love how your body reacts to me, honey." Dick winks.

You wrap your arms around him, your muscles relaxing a fraction. He can feel the ring on your finger dig into the back of his neck. You are his and he is yours. Dick trills at the thought. You laugh, the vibrations from his lips tickling you.

"I love you. You know that, don't you?" Dick asks, nibbling your lip.

"The whole world knows," you snort, "especially after that fiasco at the town square."

"I had to protect my wifey's honor." He says with a cheeky smile that takes over his face.

"Somehow, I feel like knocking his teeth in was a bit much." You say, pulling him into another kiss because... well, your husband is awfully adorable even if he is a disaster.

"Only seems fair," he says, his hand travelling down your body, kissing your clavicle, "he was being rude to my wife." Dick's fingers dip between your soaking folds. You were dripping just for him. Dick would be lying if he said that didn't inflate his ego. With his fingers curled inside you as he drags them in and out, you arch into him. You thread your finger through his hair and pull.

"Dickie, I want you," you whisper, rubbing your knee against his crotch. "I want you so much."

Dick ruts against your leg, breath ragged and desperate. Dick's body is so sensitive to your touch; it's ridiculous.

"I want you too." He manages barely above a whisper.

"Then fuck me, " you look away from his, biting your lip, "please?"

"Honey," he groans. God, why did you have to say it like that? "You're going to make me cum."

"Isn't that the point?" You ask, your nails dragging on his back as you try and fuck yourself on his fingers.

What did Dick do to deserve you?

"It is," he says, taking his hand out of your folds. "But not before I can make you cum first." He licks his fingers in front of you never breaking eye contact as he does.

You cover your face and squeak because damn it Dick you can't just- Who does that?!

Dick hastily shimmies out of his pants, his cock springing free. You hear a pap as his cock slap against the toned muscles of his stomach. You squeak, peaking through your fingers, the slap ringing sinfully in your mind. Dick lets out an amused breath as he hovers over you. Stroking his length, he smears the precum along your inner thigh, whispering how much you turn him on and how he can't get enough of you.

"Sweetheart, I want you to look at me while I fuck you." He grunts and the air in your lungs evaporate. You think you'll follow suit in a few seconds. "Sweetheart, don't make me beg you."He says into your neck.

Dick, you're not helping, you think to yourself but the saccharine way he always says your pet names has you giving into the request. Dick is smiling down at you and your heart melts. He kisses you deeply. You wrap your limbs around him, your heels digging into the small of his back and your fingers tangled in his locks as he slowly enters you.

He moans into your lips and you moan into his. There's a burning stretch inside you that has you begging for more. He bottoms out and your walls flutter around his cock trying to accommodate his girth. A shiver travels up his spine feeling your velvet walls trying to milk his cock. Dick pulls away from the kiss to whisper: "I love you."

"I love you too, hubby. Please move."

"Aye aye, wifey." He says slowly, pulling his length out. You can feel the long drag of his cock against your walls. You mewl for a lack of anything intelligent to say.

The sound is enough to egg him on. He pushes in and out of you in long strokes, enjoying how your body rocks against his chasing your own pleasure. You pepper kisses to his chest and leave your own marks. Dick would be embarrassed by the lewd noises he makes as you do so but he's too caught up in you to really care. He doesn't even care if the whole world can hear him right now, all he cares about is that you're his and that you're loving this as much as he is.

"Baby, you feel so good. Your pussy was made for me. Ah!" Dick says, his hips stuttering when he feels you clench at those words. He kisses your shoulder. He loves the way his name falls from your lips as if it's the only thing you know how to say. "That's it baby. You're so pretty moaning and gasping and begging for my cock."

All Dick can focus on is the sound of your skin slapping against his. You kiss up his neck, nibbling at his Adam's apple as he swallows. "Dickie, I want more."

Dick's mind comes crashing to a halt.

"Dick, please. I want to feel you more. Please, go faster." You say, voice husky with want. It makes Dick feel like his body has turned to gelatin.

He kisses your forehead, a blush spreading across his skin. "Sweetheart, I can't."

"Please Dick." You breathe, pouting at him.

Fuck, you can't look this cute while begging him to fuck you... twice. That's just not fair.

"Sweetheart, if I go any faster, I'm going to cum." The embarrassment is hard to hide.

You drag your nails across his back and lick a stripe up his neck." Dick, I want you to fill me up. Dick, please, I'm so close." You beg, teeth catching on his collarbone, looking at him with watery eyes.

Dick is a sucker and he can never say no to a pretty face. He kisses one of your eyelids before slamming his hips into yours. His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts in and out with wild abandon. He thrusts deeper at an angle that was sure to hit your g spot every time.

You sing his name sweetly as you pull him closer. Your nipples rub against his chest as you bounce on his cock. Your walls constrict around him making it harder to pull out every time. All he wants to do is to stay inside you and revel in your warmth but he wants to bring you over the edge and fuck you stupid. He rolls your clit between his fingers as you whimper into his neck.

You both cum crying each other's name. Dick kisses you as he fucks you through your orgasm, painting your walls with his hot seed.

Dick rests his weight on top of you as he pulls out with some of his seed painting your inner thigh. "I love you." He pants.

"I love you too, you heavy lug." You grouse, trying to push him off of you.

Dick has mercy on you and rolls you two over with you resting on top of him, perfect for cuddling you.

Dick whispers "I love you" and other praises every time he opens his mouth and you return the sentiment by kissing a different part of his face.

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow, Dick flushes seeing just how many hickeys he's left you and he flushes even harder seeing his own chest marked up.

"Sorry about that," He says kissing one of the marks. "I just can't help myself-" Kiss "-You look so pretty covered in love bites-" Kiss "-Sweetheart, you gotta stop sounding cute. I'll get hard again- Fuck."

Your hand wraps around his shaft, fingers brushing against his skin experimentally. "But I want you." You say bluntly.

Dick is going to combust. "I want you to. I've wanted you like this for so long."

You stop. Your thumb brushes against the tip of his already leaking cock. Your lips curl into a smile. "Is that why you were so adamant on getting married?" You snicker, booping his nose with yours.

"No, yes, maybe... partially." He stammers out.

You snort. "You know that wasn't necessary for us to..." The flush creeps back on your lips. You somehow have the audacity to look shy while still stroking his shaft. Dick is going to burst.

"I didn't want you to miss out on it," Dick says steadying his breath, feeling himself get harder as he talks or attempts to, "I wanted you to experience it since you told me you dreamt about it as a kid."

You stop and Dick bucks to urge you to keep going.

"You remembered that?" You ask, the expression on your face is complicated.

Dick sits up, brushing a finger against your cheek. "Of course, I did."

"Dork." You sniffle, kissing his cheek.

"Only for you," He laughs but it's cut off by the movement of your hand. "Sweetheart, are you trying to kill me?" He gasps, biting into his knuckle.

"I'm only thanking you for being so sweet." You tease, spreading your mixed juices all over his cock. "and I just love my hubby that's all."

____________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading!!!!!!

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be @jadedhillon

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson smut

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luv-eddiediaz · 3 years

Text

Oh god. No. Not here. Not now. Not with these people. Eddie can't breathe, but he can't let them know he can't breathe. He loosens his tie just a little bit - the one Ana went back for after Eddie was discharged from the hospital. His nervous laughter is really a way to suck some oxygen back into his lungs, and when a heavy hand touches his elbow, and the smile on its owner’s face distorts. He's going to pass out if he doesn't move, doesn't flee from this spiraling, spinning disaster.

"Could you, uh, could you excuse me?" He asks and plasters on his best charming smile, hoping his voice isn't as high and squeaky as he thinks it is.

He catches Ana's eye from across the room as he moves through what feels like a sea of strangers. She's worried, but Eddie doesn't stop to explain anything and continues his way to the bathroom, where he locks himself inside and lets himself fall apart the way his body was begging to.

His fingers curl tight the porcelain of the sink, and he tries, tries to slow his breathing. Finally, he tells himself to stop it in the mirror, even smacks himself across the cheek, but nothing changes.

There's a soft knock on the door, and Ana's gentle voice comes through the cracks, "Eddie? Are you okay?"

"Fine," he grits out.

"Are you having another attack?"

"I said I'm fine!" his anger and frustration echo too loud against the tile of the bathroom. , get a grip, Diaz. "Can you just get Chris some cake? I'll be right out."

Ana's fading footsteps are the only answer he gets, and Eddie focuses back on himself. He tries to remember what the pamphlet from the hospital said, or rather, what Buck said it says the night he found it buried on Eddie's counter and read it to him, but his brain is just a white-hot sear of nothing. Eddie pulls out his phone and dials Buck - no time to look for his name in the phone book. He doesn't answer, and Eddie nearly throws the phone into the sink.

"Damn!"

But it's Sunday, and Buck said something about Taylor coming over on Sunday, so, of course, he isn't answering. Eddie thinks for a second, in desperation, he'll call Bobby, but then his phone vibrates, and he sees Buck's smile fill the screen. He rubs his thumb over it before swiping to answer.

"Buck?" He answers.

"Hey, you called?" Buck asks on the other end of the line, slightly fuzzy, but Eddie can hear the smile in his voice, and the vice around his heart loosens just a little bit.

"Buck?" He asks again as if he can't process anything else.

"Uh, yea. Are you okay?"

"No. Panic attack."

"But aren't you at that christening?"

"Yes."

"Shit."

"Buck, help.” He hates how desperate he must sound, but Buck’s already seen him at his most desperate, trying to hold onto his life and knowing, instinctively, that Buck would help him. He would save him.

Buck always saves him.

" What have you tried?" Buck asks.

"Not much. Nothing. I just, I called you.”

"That’s good. Where are you?"

"Bathroom."

"You need to focus on something besides the panic. So, find me four things you see, Eddie. Try to be specific."

"Okay,” Eddie looks around the bathroom. He sees a million times too many things, and it takes him a second to focus in on something, “Uh, a pink shower curtain,” like your pink sweater that you say is salmon, but Buck, it’s pink. “white rugs,” dazzling white like your teeth when you smile, and that patch of skin that sometimes peeks through under your waistband. “a bristly hairbrush,” god, you’re hair is always so perfect, “and, and curtains on the window. They’re sheer; pink too,” just like that sweater.

"Good,” Buck soothes, “now, three things you can smell."

"Umm, vanilla soap,” sometimes you smell like vanilla, and sugar - like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day, “cinnamon toothpaste,” like in your bathroom, crumpled up in the corner, “my cologne,” you bought me this bottle for Christmas.

"That’s good, Eddie. Two things you can hear."

"I hear people - outside the door."

"Not them,” Buck tells him, “Two other things. Ignore that sound."

"I hear - I hear crickets outside the open window, and I hear...you. Your voice in my ear, your breath,” I always hear you, even when I don’t want to.

"One thing you can touch," Buck says quietly, and Eddie takes a shaking breath, presses his hand over his chest.

"My heartbeat."

"Is it slower than before?"

"Yes."

"Good. Do you think you're okay?"

“Yea. I um, I’m probably just going to go home, sleep it off.”

“Good idea.”

“Thank you, Buck.”

“Of course.”

Eddie hangs up and slips his phone back into his pocket. He isn’t panicking anymore, but he doesn’t feel great. He splashes his face with water and tries to smooth down all the places he’s rumpled before he opens the bathroom door and finds Ana on the other side, Christopher sitting next to her on the floor with a plate of cake in his lap.

“Are you okay?” she asks, putting a hand to his cheek, and it burns where there was just cold air against the drying water.

Eddie nods, “I’m okay. But I think I’m probably gonna go. In case it happens again.”

“Let me get my purse.”

“No, you stay. It’s your family. Just tell them I got sick.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yea,” he leans down and kisses her cheek before helping Chris up.

Neither says much to the other in the car, but Eddie chuckles when Chris rips his suit jacket off the moment the door is closed. He sees the silhouette on the front steps against the fading sun before he gets the truck parked and shakes his head at the realization it’s Buck.

"What are you doing here?" he asks when Buck jogs up to him.

"I didn't want you to be alone when you got home,” Buck answers quietly and then turns his attention to Christopher once the back door is open, and he’s climbing out, “Hey, buddy, did you have a good time? You look pretty handsome in that suit."

Chris rolls his eyes, "that's what everyone kept telling me. But then they said I would have looked better if I cut my hair.

“Well, you know what? I like this long, floppy look,” Buck ruffles his hand through Chris’s hair. It had definitely gotten long, and maybe a little out of control, but he didn’t want to cut it, and Eddie only remembered being dragged to the barbershop every five weeks to have his hair clipped, no matter how much he begged to keep it just a little bit longer.

Chris smiles, “thanks, Buck.”

“Do you think you could give me a minute with your dad?” Buck asks when they all get inside the house. Eddie flips on the lamp by the door, and Christopher nods and leaves for his room, closing the door behind him.

“I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie says, walking further into the house, turning on lights as he goes.

“Okay, but do you wanna talk about what happened?”

“No.”

“Was it too many people?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “I’m half Mexican, Buck; I grew up going to huge parties, family and friends always over on the weekend. That wasn’t it.”

“What was it, then?”

“Why does it matter?” he doesn’t mean to sound as exasperated as he does, but sometimes Buck just brings it out of him.

“Because if you can figure out what’s triggering you, you can figure out how to control the panic better.”

“I don’t panic.”

“You didn’t, but now you are. So let’s try and figure out why.”

Eddie sighs, “can I have a beer while we do it, at least?”

“If I get one too.”

They go into the kitchen, and Eddie takes two beers from the fridge and cracks one open before handing it to Buck. He watches him take a long, slow sip. Eddie’s hands start to shake around the glass, and he forces himself to look away, down at the shine of his shoes to keep whatever is trying to rise pushed down.

“Was there like some kind of a loud noise?” Buck asks.

“No. It isn’t - loud noises have never bothered me.”

“Things have changed a little bit, though.”

“I don’t think they have anything to do with being shot. I know no one wants to believe me, but I’m fine about that.”

“Maybe no one wants to believe you because you were shot. That doesn’t happen to most people even once, and it’s happened to you twice.”

“I know, but I swear to you, I’m okay. I don’t think that’ what this about.”

“If you say so. Let’s recount the night then. What happened right before it started?”

“Ana’s great aunt, she - she said I was perfect for Ana - a good addition to their family.”

Buck takes another swig from the bottle; his eyebrows are knitted in thought. If Chim or Hen were there, they’d make a joke about him not straining himself, and they’d only be kidding, but Eddie knows Buck has a lot of thoughts, a lot of good, deep ones, that maybe Eddie is the only one to have ever heard, “And didn’t you say the first time was after the salesman referred to Ana as Chris’s mom?”

“Yea,” Eddie says quietly.

“Do you think maybe you’re just having a hard time with how serious your relationship is getting?”

“It’s not getting that serious.”

“Eddie, she introduced you to like all her family, you went to an important family event, her great-aunt thinks your excellent husband material.”

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat, and he coughs, trying to force it out, but it sits there like a bubble trying to choke him, and the kitchen starts to spin, turquoise spiraling into stainless steel, spiraling into Buck.

“Stop, stop saying things like that,” he sputters out.

“You’re starting to panic again, aren’t you?” Buck asks.

“When the hell did it get so serious? I was just - I don’t know what I was doing. I liked her, but I didn’t mean-”

Eddie backs against the counter next to the sink, he tries to loosen his tie, but he can’t make his fingers work. Then Buck crosses the space between them and replaces Eddie’s hand with his own, pulling down on the knot and unbuttoning Eddie’s collar. “Breathe; breathe,” he whispers to him and puts his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, and he’s so close Eddie has no choice but to look at him. He feels his hand in Buck’s, slowly pressing against the other man’s chest.

“Breathe with it,” Buck says of his heartbeat, and Eddie closes his eyes. It takes a few moments, but soon his breath is in sync with Buck’s heartbeat, and he’s not sure he’s ever felt this kind of calm before.

“Okay?” Buck asks.

“No, but yes.”

“I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be honest - not for me, but for yourself.”

“O-okay.”

“Do you want Ana to be in your future? Your far future?”

“No,” he answers quickly, but it’s a question he’s asked himself before and was just too afraid to say out loud, “but -”

“But what? Chris likes her?”

“Yes!” Eddie shouts.

“Maybe he does, maybe he even loves her a little, but he loves you more, and he wants you to be happy, and he knows you aren’t happy, and he probably knows it’s because of her.”

“He does?”

“Yes,” Buck takes Eddie’s hand away from his heart, but he doesn’t let go of it, “your heart knows it too, and it’s screaming at you, Eddie, but you aren’t listening.”

“I wanted to be ready, to move on from Shannon, not just after she died, but long before that too.”

“I know.”

“Am I never going to be ready?” He can feel the wet of his eyes as he blinks up at Buck, vulnerable once again in front of him.

“I think you are, but not with Ana, and that’s okay. I mean, she’s the first person you seriously dated besides your wife, Eds. So it’s okay that she isn’t the right fit, and it’s okay if it takes you a little while longer to find who is.”

“Is Taylor your right fit?” Eddie blurts out, and it makes Buck let go of his hand.

“Whoah, we’re talking about you here.”

“Is she? It’s been four months, and you’re still together; she’s still actually here.”

“Yea, she hasn’t run away from me yet, and ya know, we have a good time.”

“She makes you happy?”

“Y-yea. I mean, am I ready to ask her to marry me? No, but I gave her a drawer last week.”

“A drawer?”

“Yea. She’s only got a few things in it; honestly, she lives more in the news van than anything.”

“You gave Taylor a drawer. In your loft?”

“Am I mumbling or something? A drawer, yes. In my loft.”

“That’s uh - that’s cool.” But, damnit, Eddie can’t do this for the third time. He doesn’t have the strength left. He grips the dishtowel hanging from the knife drawer just to ground himself to something.

“You okay?”

“Yep, yep.”

“You’re looking a little panicky. Maybe it’s not just Ana. Maybe you’ve just got a real fear of commitment thing going on. Even if it’s mine.”

“Shit,” his chest hurts this time, and his whole body is hot, but he’s shivering.

“Put your hand back on my heart.”

“No, no! God, that’s going to make this worse.”

“What? Why? It worked last time.”

“Exactly. And in the bathroom, it was you, so much you,” Eddie’s knees are weak now. He isn’t sure how much longer he can stay upright, and suddenly everything, fucking everything, smells like Buck.

“Eddie, you’re not making any sense.”

“I need you to go. Can you go, please?”

“I’m not going to leave you like this.”

And, of course, Eddie knows Buck won’t leave him. Buck will do just about anything Eddie asks, but he won’t do this. He won’t leave Eddie when Eddie needs him so badly.

“Buck, please, you’re making things worse.”

“How am I making things worse?”

“Because you’re the only one who can make them better!”

“Eddie, Eddie.” Buck wraps Eddie up in his arms before he can fall to the floor, probably hitting his head on the way down. The instant calm he feels with Buck’s body pressed hard against his, his soft breath hitting the curve of Eddie’s neck terrifies him. It isn’t a new fear, but it’s one he’s been feeling so much more lately, one he can’t seem to ignore. He’s so tired from his body trying to run away from everything; his bones ache, his chest is sore. Finally, he closes his eyes and gives in to the fear, stops trying to fight or flee, and just lets Buck hold onto him. His fingers rake through Eddie’s sweat-slicked hair as Eddie’s breathing starts to slow.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Buck whispers into Eddie’s throbbing temple.

“It’s not okay at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m in love with you,” he rushes out in one broken breath, “it isn’t just that Ana feels wrong; it’s that you feel right. You’ve always felt right.”

Buck is quiet for what feels like a hundred moments before he finally seems to have something to say.

“Huh,” he breathes out from the back of his throat.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“What would you like me to say?”

“I don’t know. You could say that I’m insane, that you love Taylor, that you’re not into men, not into me.”

“I could say any of that, but then I’d be lying to you.”

“What?”

“Look, Eddie, I-I don’t know if I’m in love with you, but I feel something. Something more than I’ve ever felt with anyone, and I kinda keep thinking it’s going to go away, but it never goes away.”

“Huh.”

Buck laughs and gently sits Eddie up, tangled across Buck’s long legs, still safe in his arms, “are you okay?” he asks.

“I think I am.”

“Good.”

Buck presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose, and Eddie smiles before he tilts his chin, so Buck’s lips fall against his. It’s a slow, quiet kiss that lasts only a few seconds before they both pull away.

Eddie is so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, so he lets them slip closed, lets Buck hold him closer in the middle of the kitchen floor until he falls asleep.

#i had to do it #long fic #buddie fic #eddie's anxiety attacks #not anti ana #but not pro ana by any means either #panic attacks #buddie

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lilliagradiewrites · 3 years

Text

go get her, kid. (peter parker)

Summary: Peter Parker is hopelessly in love with Tony Starks’ teenage daughter, and Stark encourages him to shoot his shot.

WC: 7.4k (holy shit)

Warnings: Bad language, , really nothing else. A lot of cute peter and a painful amount fluff. A tiny bit of angst too.

A/N: I found myself watching Tom Holland interview clips today and I just couldn’t help myself. Here we are: my first peter parker/ spiderman one shot! I have some Harry and Jj pieces in the works, so keep eyes out for that!

LET’S DO IT!!!

--------

Peter found himself in this position far too often. Staring at you shamelessly while you worked away at whatever was on your desk, usually a school assignment or some tech project. His crush had been going on for quite some time, but it was getting more and more difficult to hide.

You and Peter had been best friends ever since your dad first recruited him. Something clicked between the two of you, causing an instant friendship. As time went on, you grew closer and closer to the superhero, and he quickly became your best friend. You began surrounding yourself with his friends without even realizing it, becoming close with Ned and MJ almost instantly. They were great people, and you loved being around them, but something about Peter was just different. Your energies matched perfectly for some reason. He got your humour, liked the same things as you, plus he was a great conversationalist and an even better listener. Some of your favorite memories were made with Peter.

Despite knowing practically everything about the boy, you were completely oblivious about his huge crush on you. Ned was the only person who truly knew, though many other people had their suspicions. The Avengers had an idea about it, considering you were what he talked about 90 percent of the time. MJ could tell because of the way he looked at you. When he looked your way, his pupils enlarged, his cheeks went pink, and the look on his face was entirely lovey-dovey. It was so obvious just in the way he gazed at you when you spoke.

He was looking at you in that way now, though you weren’t aware. He was meant to be studying (it was the whole reason he came over to your house, or at least that’s the reason he told you), but he couldn’t bring himself to care about chemistry homework when you looked so damn beautiful. Your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail keeping it away from your face as you worked. Your hands flew across the keyboard on your laptop, typing out something Peter probably wouldn’t understand. He was smart, sure, but you were intelligent in a different way. You were insightful and observant, you got things other people couldn’t begin to process. Your brain understood things in a different capacity than most. Peter assumes you got this trait from your father, who was the exact same way.

“What’re you typing? Something for school?”

You nodded, your attention not wavering from the laptop screen. “Yeah, an assignment for AP Lit.”

“Oh, that one project you told me about? With the essay and the powerpoint?”

You nodded again. “Mhm.”

Peter furrowed his brows, moving off your bed to come stand near you at your desk in an attempt to get a better look at what you were working so eagerly on. “I thought that project wasn’t due for another month.

“It’s not. I had an idea for the essay, and I figured if I get started early, I have more time to edit and perfect it.”

“You’re such a perfectionist.” Peter says with a light chuckle, looking at the state of your desk. It was both chaotic and organized at the same time. Pens, highlighters, pieces of paper, a book with annotations scribbled in the margins, notebooks with neat class notes printed inside of them in your pretty handwriting. They were all scattered about the surface, but Peter knew you well enough to know that there was always a method to your madness. As you observed longer, he realized that all of the items were in different sections on your desk, based on categories and subjects. He smiled lightly, realizing that this messy but technically neat surface was probably a very accurate representation of what goes on in your mind.

You finished the paragraph you were typing with a flourish, a satisfied smile resting on your lips. “There. I have a basic outline done for the essay portion. Obviously, I’ll have to go back and add a little more and elaborate on the points, but the basics are there.”

Peter glanced up at your laptop screen. His eyes were met with a never ending sea of typed out words. He smiled; this was so you. Your ‘outline’ is another student's essay doubled.

“You’re gonna write more than that?”

You looked back at him, and he saw your face for the first time during the encounter. His cheeks went slightly pink at the sight of you, and he prayed that you didn’t notice.

You didn’t, or perhaps you just didn’t say anything. You continued on with the conversation without skipping a beat, and relief washed over Peter because of this.

“Of course I am.” You stated with furrowed brows, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This is so boring and basic, and has no detail whatsoever. Anybody who reads the summary of the book online could write this. I want my teacher to know that I thoroughly read and understood the novel, you know? I don’t want to submit some surface-level shit, I want to really pick apart the undertones of and the meaning behind the story.”

Peter nods, pretending to understand what you meant. He’d barely been paying attention to the words you were saying, too encapsulated with your beautiful eyes to do so. You turned back around towards your work, causing your best friend to snap out of his trance-like state.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something? I’m bored.”

You had now picked up a pencil and a highlighter, working on the chemistry notes he was supposed to be taking. “Don’t you have work to do, Pete?”

“...No.”

You paused your writing to gaze at him skeptically.

“So you did your book report for english?”

“Yes.”

“Your worksheets for pre-calc?”

“Mhm.”

“You read the assigned chapters for Pschycology and finished the quiz you had to take on them?”

A nod was your only answer.

“What about chem? We have notes, essay questions, assigned reading, and a formulas worksheet due next tuesday. Have you done all of that?”

Peter hesitated for a moment. “Yes, I have.” It was a clear lie. “Can we watch a movie now?”

“There’s no way you did all of that. Go finish your work, and then we can watch a movie.”

A groan escapes Peters lips as he turns, resting against your desk. “But that’ll take forever. Your dad kicks me out at 11:00. We’ll never have time to watch one.” He whines.

You smile slightly, unable to fight it. Not replying to your friend, you spin around in your chair, raising your voice slightly, “FRIDAY, connect to dad please.”, the command directed to nowhere in particular.

“Connecting to Mr. Stark.” The familiar robotic voice echoes throughout your room.

“What’s up, Y/N/N?”

“Hey, Dad? Can Peter stay a bit later tonight?”

“Why?” Your dad’s voice replies through a hidden speaker, his tone almost accusatory.

“Because he wants to watch a movie but I won’t let him until we’re done with homework. We won’t have enough time to finish the movie if he leaves at normal curfew? Pleeeaseee, Dad?”

You can hear your father sigh. “Fine, but only because it’s not a school night and I’m feeling generous. He’s gotta be gone by one though, no exceptions.”

Both of you smiled widely, and you erupted in cheers. “Thanks, Dad!”

“Kid, be ready for training at eight. A later curfew doesn’t mean an exception from your early morning saturday sessions.” The statement was directed at Peter, who nodded, despite your father not being able to see him.

“Got it, Mr. Stark.”

“FRIDAY, disconnect.” You heard Tony’s voice from the other side.

“Disconnected.” The sound of the AI confirming the command filled your room, and the space fell into a brief silence once again.

You spun in your chair, turning to face Peter with a smug smile on your face. “There, now we can get our work done, and watch a movie. Satisfied?”

Peter nodded, giving a roll of his eyes and heading back over to his workspace on your bed, plopping down and continuing his assignments.

An hour and half later, Peter gave a heavy sigh, finally closing his textbook with a smile. “All done!” he announced proudly.

“With everything?”

“Yes, everything.”

You closed your notebook you’d been working in, standing up. “Great. I’ve been done for half an hour, I’ve been working on future assignments while I waited for you to finish up. Ready to watch that movie?”

Peter nodded excitedly. He loved watching movies with you, because you always cuddled up close to him on your bed while you watched. Peter loved being in close proximity to you, even though it made him a little nervous.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked, beginning to clear his things off your bed.

“I don’t know. We can discuss while we go make popcorn.”

Peter’s eyes lit up; he loved popcorn.

“Okay!” He tossed the rest of his things in his school bag, zipping it up quickly and dropping it in the corner of your room. “Lets go!”

You chuckled at his childlike behavior, following him out of your bedroom door towards your kitchen. The entire journey down the stairs, down the hall, and to the kitchen was filled with Peter going on and on about movies he wanted to see.

You grabbed the microwave popcorn from the pantry, unwrapping it and tossing it in, starting up the machine.

You continued to listen to Peter as soft popping sounds filled your kitchen.

“Oh, you guys have Disney plus, right? What if we watched that new star wars show thingy? The mandalorian?”

You smiled at this statement. Though you didn’t see the boy in any way but a friend (at least that’s what you told yourself), you found Peter’s Star Wars obsession very cute.

“I mean, I would watch that, but I don’t think I’d understand it.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve never seen the movies.”

You watched in amusement as Peter’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. “You’ve NEVER seen the Star Wars movies? Are you kidding me, Y/N?”

You laughed at his reaction, moving to fetch the fully popped popcorn from the microwave and transfer it into a bowl. “No, I’m not kidding. I’ve been meaning to watch them forever, but I guess I never got around to it.”

“I can’t believe this!” Peter exclaims in disbelief. “We’ve been friends for a year and a half now, and you’ve never seen the Star Wars movies? This is insane! I talk about them so much… did you just never understand what I was talking about?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Nope, I never have. I kinda just let you talk about it, because I planned on watching the movies. I figured I’d understand what you meant when I watched them.”

“Holy shit… we’re watching the first one tonight, Y/N. No arguments, we’re doing it.”

You grabbed the now prepared bowl of popcorn, smiling at your friend. “Alright, let’s do it.”

You headed back up the stairs, the sound of your footsteps accompanied with the sound of Peter murmuring in disbelief as you made your way to your room.

Once the two of you arrived at your destination, you closed the door, placing the bowl of popcorn on your still cluttered desk.

Peter climbed into your bed, while you rummaged through your drawers in search of comfy clothes. “I’m gonna change into pj’s before we start, i want to be comfy.”

Peter nodded. “FRIDAY, put Star Wars: The Phantom Menace on Y/N’s TV.” He spoke out in a slightly raised voice. The movie appeared on your screen, waiting to be started as you changed.

A few moments later, you emerged from your bathroom, now wearing a pair of Nike shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt.

“Y/N, this is about to change your li-” Peter’s voice trailed off as he looked at you. The oversized shirt you were wearing… was his.

He choked on the piece of popcorn he’d been eating. “I-is that my shirt?”

You looked down on what you were wearing, realizing that it was, in fact, Peter's. “Oh shit. Yeah, sorry. You left it at the lab once, dad gave it to me to give to you, and I guess it just got mixed in with my clothes. I’ll wash it and give it back.

Peter shook his head, coughing again. “No, it’s okay. You can keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” his cheeks went pink as he realized what had just left his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say the last part.

Your cheeks went even pinker at the compliment, which you couldn’t deny made your stomach flutter a little bit. “Okay, thanks.” You smiled at your friend, climbing into the bed beside him. You cuddled in close to him, probably closer than need be, but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“FRIDAY, start the movie.”

---

A few hours later, the credits were rolling, and Peter was red in the face. You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and had moved even closer to him in your slumber. You were now full-on cuddling the boy, and he had no idea what to do. Your leg was moved over his, your head lay on his chest. One arm thrown around his waist. He liked having you this close, but his stomach was in a constant state of butterflies, and he was worried that the sound of his heart beating loudly in his chest would wake you.

He didn’t know what time it was, but it must’ve been close to one, because a knock sounded from the other side of your bedroom door.

Without waiting for an answer, Tony entered the room. “Alright, kids, it’s almost curfew, time to wrap it up…”

His eyes landed on you and Peter, cuddled up in your bed.

“Kid, what the hell is going on here?”

“Mr. Stark! Um, Y/N fell asleep while we were watching the movie and she kinda… I don’t know.. Ended up like this? Nothing’s going on, I swear, it’s just… I didn’t want to wake her up…”

Peter’s face was the color of a tomato at this point. Stark still had his suspicions about the boy’s intentions, but had a feeling that Peter was telling the truth. “Alright, then. You’d better get your ass home and get some sleep. Like I said, you don’t get a free pass from training because you were cuddling with my daughter till one am.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No, Mr. Stark, I- We weren’t… I Wasn’t…”

Stark chuckled at the boy’s flustered state. “I’m screwing with you, Kid. Now get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you at 8 AM sharp at the compound”

Peter nodded frantically. “Yes, sir. 8 AM. Got it.”

Tony turned and left without another word, leaving Peter slightly panicked. Did Mr. Stark think that something was going on between him and Y/N? Would he be mad if there was? Peter didn’t know what to think, but he knew that he should probably leave before Tony decided to come back.

Peter climbed carefully out from underneath Y/N, setting her head gently on her pillow. He tried his very best not to wake her as he moved out of the bed.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you lots.” Peter whispered to his ‘best friend’, planting a sweet kiss on her forehead. With that, he slid your window open, climbing out of it and swinging his way home.

Peter was completely oblivious to the fact that Tony had been standing quietly outside your door when Peter said his goodbyes, and Tony saw the entire encounter. The ‘goodnight’, the ‘i love you’, the sweet forehead kiss.

Tony had his suspicions, but that night it was confirmed: his newest recruit had it bad for his daughter.

Strangely, Tony didn’t find himself terribly angry over it.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of your alarm blaring frustratingly loud. You groaned at the noise, picking up your phone to turn it off. The time on your phone screen read 7:00 AM. Groaning again, you pulled yourself reluctantly out of bed. As much as you hated getting up out of bed, you knew you had to if you ever wanted to complete your training. Your father had promised you that you’d get a spot on his team if you trained hard enough, and you were extremely determined. It had been your dream for years to become an Avenger, so you had been training your ass off for months to earn your spot.

This is how all of your Saturdays had begun for many weeks. An alarm going off at seven in the morning, waking you up to get ready for training at eight. It was a normal routine for you at this point, but for some reason the early wake up never got easier.

You moved about your regular morning routine, heading straight for your bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Once your basic hygiene was done, you brushed through your hair, changed into some clothes (your training uniform was at the compound), grabbed your phone, and headed downstairs.

You made a beeline for the kitchen, where your father was already making his morning coffee. When he noticed your presence, he gave you a tired smile.

“Morning, Y/N/N. Sleep well?”

Still half asleep, you gave an exhausted nod. “I shouldn’t have stayed up that late last night. I’ll yell at Peter when I see him. He always manages to convince me to let him stay late.”

For some reason, your father gave a light chuckle at your words. “I bet he does, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrowed at his statement. Something about his tone of voice didn’t sit right with you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, making your way over to fix yourself a cup of coffee.

Your father smiled smugly at you, passing over the coffee pot and a mug. “Nothing, honey. Be ready in fifteen.”

Still suspicious, your eyes followed him as he placed his coffee mug in the sink and moved from the room. Why was he acting like this? Did Peter do something last night? You remembered falling asleep halfway through the movie, not being able to make it through the whole thing. Had something happened while you were sleeping?

Deciding not to let it bother you, you pushed the interaction from your mind, focusing solely on fixing your coffee. You were barely functional without it, and you knew you needed to be fully aware for training. You had to prove to your father that you could keep up with the Avengers, and that you’d be a useful asset to their team.

You downed the coffee quickly, knowing you had only a few minutes left to get ready. When your father gave you a time warning, he always meant it. And, you knew all too well, he would leave you behind if you were going to make him late.

He’d done it twice before.

Once you had finished chugging the remnants of your coffee, you placed the mug neatly in the sink, right beside where your father had left his. The drink had been an instant pick-me-up, and you automatically felt more awake. You found yourself getting more and more excited for the day ahead of you. Though waking up early on saturday mornings was a pain in the ass, you did enjoy training. You got to exercise, learn about cool technology, and screw around with your best friend. What wasn’t there to like?

Now that your best friend had crossed your mind, you pulled out your phone to text him. You sent him a message every morning, or he sent one to you. It was just a thing the two of you did. Over the past year the two of you had been close, it became some sort of routine.

Y/N/N: morning spidey. u awake?

Within moments, he was typing out a reply. He always answered your messages quickly.

Spidey: yes i am :) ready for training? I’m gonna kick ur ass in sprints today

You chuckled lightly at his response. You and Peter had always been insanely competitive towards each other, and it really jumped out during training. Unfortunately for you, Peter usually won the challenges. You always blamed it on the fact that he had more experience and super strength; he blamed it on the fact that ‘you suck’ and ‘he’s just that awesome’.

Y/N/N: u can try, but idk how that will work out. I’ve beaten u in all of the other sprints for weeks.

Spidey: doesn’t matter. I’m showing out today

Spidey: bring ur a-game, irongirl.

You smiled at the message.

Y/N/N: always do, spiderboy

He started typing back immediately, and you knew exactly why. He called you irongirl to screw with you, so you had begun calling him spiderboy to get on his nerves. It worked every time.

Spidey: Y/N!!! It’s spiderman!!!

Y/N/N: spiderboy!!! It’s nova!!!

Spidey: ugh. Ur impossible.

You grinned widely. Your playful banter with Peter has always been one of your favorite parts of the friendship.

Y/N/N: but u love me anyways :)))) see u soon

Spidey: u better be glad i do. see u soon

You reread the texts, unable to fight the smile on your face. Everytime you interact with Peter, you remember how much you truly love him. Being an avenger, and the daughter of one of the smartest and most famous men on the planet, wasn’t easy. Peter was the only one who had a taste of the madness that was your life. Having him around was having a sense of normalcy, and so were incredibly grateful for him.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice being called from the front door of your house.

“Y/N! Time to leave!” Without hesitation, you locked your phone, slipping it into the pocket of your sweatpants.

You hurried towards the front door, not wanting to be left behind again. When you arrived, your father was already standing there, holding the door open. You gave him a smile and a quick thank you for holding the door, then made your way out. The driver was already waiting patiently in front of your house. This was one of your dad’s six drivers.

“Morning, Bernard.” You say kindly to the driver, climbing into the back seat of the range rover. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing wonderful, Y/N. How are you?” The older man replied. You really liked Bernard, he was one of your favorite drivers. He was an older man, in his mid seventies, and you found him to be the sweetest person in the universe. Sometimes, he’d bring you your favorite candy when he used to pick you up from school, and he was always so considerate and kind.

“I’m good. Tired, but good.”

The man smiled at your reply. By this point, your dad had finished locking up the front door of the house, and he climbed in the backseat beside you.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark.” Bernard said professionally to his new passenger, and your dad nodded as a reply.

“Morning, bernard.”

The conversation ended there between the two men. Your father wasn’t a very social person with people he didn’t know, and Bernard was aware of this fact. He mostly talked to you when you were in the car, and Tony went on his phone and did Lord knows what.

“How is Dorothy doing? Is she feeling better?” You asked the man as he began pulling out of your driveway. Dorothy was Bernard’s wife, and she’d gotten sick the week prior. Given her age, Bernard was very worried about her.

Bernard smiled at your question. “Much, much better. They released her from the hospital yesterday, she’s back home and doing great. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course!” You grinned back. “Did you ever find out what she had?”

“Pneumonia, just a very bad case of it.”

You nodded in understanding. “Well, I’m glad she’s better! I was worried when you first told me.”

The conversation continued, talking about anything and everything as you drove to the compound. He told you about his wife, his four kids and what they’re doing. His granddaughter had a baby a few days before, and he was extremely excited about it.

After a 20 minute drive, you pulled up to the building you knew so well. Bernard went to the normal procedure of getting through the front gates, and then pulled up to the front of the compound.

“Well, here we are.” Bernard announced, parking the vehicle. You and your father began climbing out of the backseat.

“Thank you, bernard. Tell your granddaughter I said congratulations!”

He wished you a kind goodbye, and then you were gone, leaving the car and heading towards the compound.

When you walked into the main section of the building, you spotted your best friend in the kitchen. You had to admit, he looked incredible, standing near an open window in the early morning light. He was already dressed in his sleek, black training uniform. It was tight against his body, showing off his muscled body. Sometimes, you forget how beautiful Peter is.

“You’re staring…” A singsong voice came in your ear. You whipped your head towards the voice to see your father walking away from you, smirking. You stood there, feeling slightly confused. Had you really been staring at Peter?

At times, you forget that Peter is only your best friend. The two of you act like an old married sometimes. You spend all of your time together, and you know each other so well.

Strange feelings you couldn’t understand had crept up on you before, especially recently. You couldn’t deny Peter was attractive, and he was a great person, too. How could you not love him? The issue is, you found yourself loving him in a different way than before…

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You couldn’t be thinking about this right now, it’s not the place or time. Peter was standing right in front of you, and you needed to be focused for training.

You could process your feelings and emotions at a later time.

You began walking up to Peter, who was leaning up against the counter holding a cup of coffee.

“Morning, loser.” You said teasingly, greeting your friend. His head snapped in your direction, and he smiled when his eyes found you. (You thought you could see his cheeks go pink, too, but you forced yourself to ignore it.)

“Hey! How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.” You replied, leaning against the counter beside him. “I didn’t even notice that you left last night, I was really out. Did my Dad come in and tell you to leave?”

The pink in Peter’s cheeks darkened at your statement. Of course, this was the perfect time for your father to reenter the room. “Yeah, I did. He seemed very comfortable, but I kicked him out at one.”

Peter and your father were making direct eye contact. Your dad had that stupid smirk on his face, and peter was bright red.

You looked between the two of them, not knowing what to think. Before, you were just suspicious, but now it was confirmed: something happened last night between the two of them, and you were determined to find out what.

Hours later, you’re completely exhausted from training. You worked your ass off, and had successfully beat Peter in sprints.

“That’s right! You lost! How amazing is spiderboy now?”

Peter rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “Whatever, Y/N. I let you win.”

Your jaw dropped. “You did not! I won because I’m better!”

Peter just smiled at you. You took a swig of the water bottle in your hands, turning around to look at your friend as you did.

The sight you were met with was very sweet. Peter stood there, smiling at you with a look you could only describe as adoration. You looked back at him, a small grin resting on your face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The brunette boy says cheekily.

“Why are YOU looking at ME like that, Parker?”

You took a step closer to him, his eyes widening slightly at your movement. He said nothing in response to your question (though it felt more like an accusation), and you smiled again.”Got nothing to say?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Parker!” You jumped what felt like 20 feet in the air at the sound of Natasha’s voice, breaking up the little moment between you and Peter.

You stepped back away from him, and you couldn’t help but notice the sadness flash across his face before he turned to the other woman in the room.

“Yeah, Nat?”

“Tony needs your help in the lab. I believe his exact words were ‘he needs to be here in five or I’ll kill him.’ A few minutes have already passed, I’d start running if I were you.”

Peter’s eyes widened for the second time. “Oh, shit, okay. Thanks, Nat.” He turned his head quickly in your direction. “I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. Peter planted a quick kiss on your forehead before jetting off in the direction of the lounge.

Grinning to yourself, you turned towards the sink, your back facing Natasha. You begin cleaning out your now empty water bottle, thinking over the previous interaction with Peter. You loved when he kissed your forehead.

“So, how long have you liked him?” You were so deep in thought, Natasha’s voice made you jump once again. When you’d fully processed her words, your cheeks went pink.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. I know you like him.”

“Like who?” Play dumb. That’ll throw her off your trail… right?

“Peter! Come on, you’re caught. Just admit it, Y/n, you’re making things harder on yourself.”

Finally, you sighed. Drying your hands on a towel, you turned reluctantly back towards Nathasha. “Is it really that obvious?”

The woman broke out into a grin at your words. “Of course it is! You two are hopelessly in love with each other. It’s almost hard to watch.”

Your cheeks went pink at her statement. “With each other? Oh, no. You mean I’m hopelessly in love with him. It’s not mutual. I’m just his best friend.”

Nat rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, come on! ‘Just his best friend’ my ass. He loves you, Y/N. He’s even more obvious than you are.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I promise you’re wrong.”

She looked at you pointedly. “I was right about you, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, but…” Your voice trailed off. You couldn’t argue with that. Nat grinned smugly at your reaction.

“That’s what I thought. Please confess to him when he meets you in your room later. It’s painful to watch, I can’t do it any longer.” And with that, Natasha was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Was it really thought obvious? Could everyone tell how you felt about peter? You could hardly even tell how you felt about him; the line between best friend and crush had been blurred for so long. If everyone could tell that you were hopelessly in love with your best friend, you would be incredibly embarrassed.

Even worse… what if Peter could tell that your in love with him?

You shook your head, as if clearing your thoughts. No. You couldn’t think like that. Of course he didn’t know; he would’ve said something.

Right?

Sighing, you walked off towards your room to take a shower, pretending you weren’t going to think of him while you were in there.

---

While Natasha was exposing your feelings, you were completely oblivious to the fact that Tony was doing the same thing to Peter in the lab.

When the boy walked in, Peter fully expected that he was being called for one of three reasons.

One: Tony had a new mission for Peter.

Two: Tony needed help with an experiment.

Or, three (the scariest option): Tony wanted to scold him for (albeit unintentionally) cuddling with his daughter the night before.

Peter could only be described as apprehensive as he walked carefully into the lab, where Tony was hunched over a table, working on something that Peter couldn’t see.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter spoke nervously, a timid way of letting Tony know of his presence. “Nat said you needed me. Is that true, or was she just trying to get rid of me?”

“No, no, I called for you.” Tony replied. He made a few last touches on whatever he was working on, then turned around towards peter. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Okay, option two is eliminated. Now, the question at hand is: will it be option one or three?

“Oh, okay. What about?” Peter said casually (or at least, that's how he hoped it came across.)

Tony gave a pointed look to the boy before speaking again. “My daughter.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly.

Shit, shit, shit.

Option three it is.

“Is this about last night sir? I swear I can explain-” Peter was quickly speaking.

But, before he could finish, Tony was cutting him off.

“This isn’t about last night, kid. I mean, it kind of is, but not really.”

Peter’s brow furrowed.

Unknown option number four?

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I saw what happened before you left last night. The forehead kiss, the ‘I love you,’ all of it.”

Peter was bright red in seconds. “Oh…”

“Do you love my daughter, Peter?”

The boy’s cheeks somehow managed to go a darker shade of pink.

“I-I uh.. O-of course I do, she’s, uh, she’s my best friend.” Peter stammered out.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what I mean, Peter.” The man says, his tone borderline accusatory. “Do you love her, love her?”

Silence. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he opted for nothing at all.

“I already know the answer, Peter, so you might as well just come out and say it.”

Peter pondered his next move. If he played his cards wrong, this conversation could end in him losing his life. Tony Stark was not one to be messed with, especially when it comes to Y/N.

On the other hand, Tony Stark was not one to be lied to, either.

Peter sighed, accepting his fate. “How did you know?”

Much to Peter’s surprise, Tony gave a small smile. “I see the way you look at her, kid. I’ve looked at many girls like that in my day. That enamoured look. You're in love with my daughter, and I have some questions.”

“Questions?”

“Yes, questions, kid. Keep up.”

Peter nodded. “Alright.”

“How long?” Tony asked.

“How long…?” Peter didn’t understand what Tony was aking.

“How long have you been in love with Y/N! How long have you known?”

Peter looked away, breaking eye contact momentarily out of nerves.

When did he begin loving you? Now that he’s truly thinking about it, he can’t really remember.

Maybe it was the first mission that the two of you did together, back when you still known as irongirl. It was a bank robbery, an easy task that Tony had given for your very first mission.

Maybe it was that one time when you dragged him out of bed at 6 AM so that you could show him your favorite coffee shop.

Perhaps it was when you took that faithful mission to Asgard, when you gained your powers accidentally, earning your new title as Nova.

Or, it could be the time that you and him stayed up late binge watching a show he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you that night. You looked so beautiful that night, getting excited as something cool happened in the show. Your hair was tied back, wearing an oversized shirt, your face makeup free. He couldn’t help but smile as you laughed, and didn’t think he’d ever heard a more beautiful sound in the world.

Yeah, he thinks it was that night.

“Um… about ten months ago, I think? That’s when I realized, but I think I’ve loved her for longer. I just forced myself not to acknowledge it, I guess.”

Tony nodded in understanding. “I get that. What is it about her?”

Another question the boy had to think about.

“There’s a lot of things, I think. Like how excited she gets when she talks about things she’s passionate about. Oh, and the way she laughs when something’s funny in a movie or a show or something. And the way she sends me memes or videos that she thinks are funny. They’re usually not very funny, but of course I think it’s hilarious just because she sent it to me. And she always listens to me when I talk, even if I’m talking about something stupid and boring like science stuff I think is interesting. She talks back to me like she cares what I’m saying, and I know she probably doesn’t, but she acts like she does, and that’s enough. She always drags me out to go on adventures, or, at least, that’s what she calls them. Usually it’s just going to get coffee or try out some new restaurant she heard about but it’s still fun. She’s just so amazing, and I think she makes me the best version of myself.”

The rant ended, and for a moment, Peter forgot that Tony was even in the room.

“Damn. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m impressed, kid. To be honest, I expected some shallow answer like ‘she looks hot in her suit’ or something like that.”

“No, sir. Of course, she’s beautiful, but Y/N is just so much more than that.”

Tony gave another sweet smile to the boy in front of him.

“She likes you, too, you know.”

Peter’s head snapped toward Tony again.

What the hell did he just say?

“What?”

“Y/N. She likes you.”

“No way. She just sees me as her best friend. I’m probably like a brother to her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

“But she does, kid. I know my daughter better than I know myself. She is head over heels for you, spidey. Which is why you should tell her how you feel.”

“Tell her how I feel? Why would I do that?”

“Because she likes you, too, and then you two will be stupid kids in love.”

“Are you serious?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Peter paused for a moment. “I thought you’d kill me when you found out I liked your daughter, not convince me to go talk to her about it.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, kid. I brought you in here with the intention of killing you, or just telling you to stay away from my daughter. But after you went on that little rant about why you loved her, I just couldn’t tell you to keep away from her. You really love her, kid, I can tell. So go talk to her.”

“You’re sure you won’t be mad if I ask her out?”

Tony shook his head and smiled.

“Go get her, kid.”

-------

Freshly clean and feeling a significant amount better, you sat on your bed scrolling on your phone. Thoughts of Peter had begun to fade (mainly because you forced them out of your mind) and that helped to keep you from stressing about what’s to come.

You had decided to confess how you feel to Peter.

True, this plan could ruin everything. Today could be the day you lost your best friend, and that thought made you want to cry.

But today could also be the day you finally get to kiss the boy you’ve loved forever, and that thought also made you want to cry.

You didn't have much time to think about it further, however, because Peter was knocking on your bedroom door.

“Y/N? It’s me. Can I come in?”

You paused immediately, your heart rating speeding up.

Oh, shit. This is it. This could be the beginning or the end of you and Peter Parker.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. It was now or never.

“Yeah, Petey, come on in.”

The door opened, and the boy you loved so much walked in. His cheeks were pink, you noticed. His cheeks only went pink when he’s nervous. Why was he nervous?

You could tell by his damp hair that he had also showered before coming to your room.

“I need to talk to you about something.” He rushes out.

Oh.

“Same.” is your reply. What else are you meant to say?

“Oh, really? Well, uh, you can go first. I’ll wait.”

You shook your head frantically. “No, you first. You said it first, so it’s only right that you go.”

Peter’s hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it. Another nervous habit of his.

“Can I sit down?”

You nodded. Why was he even asking? Usually he’d just plop down whenever he pleased, no questions asked. This behavior was very out of character for the boy you knew so well.

The boy sat down on the edge of your bed, and then took a deep breath. “Okay. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I just have to. I don’t want you to hate me, and I really hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, but…”

Peter paused for a moment, and looked into your eyes. They were brimming with concern, and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore. He broke the eye contact you’d been maintaining, mustered up all the courage he could, and then blurted it out.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for I don’t know how long. I wasn’t planning on telling you, because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but it was starting to get physically painful and I just- I can’t hide it anymore. I love you and I’m sorry.”

Peter clenched his eyes shut, unable to look at your face. He waited (very anxiously) for a reaction, but it never came. Eventually, he opened his eyes, gaining the burst of bravery it took to look at you.

Your jaw was dropped, the expression on your face unreadable.

Oh, no. No no no no no. He’d fucked up. He fucked everything up and now you were never going to speak to him again. He’d lost you. Damn you, Tony Stark.

“Y/N…” He began his apology solemnly. “I’m-”

But he never got to finish his sentence.

Because you were pouncing on him before he had the chance to.

You were on him within seconds, kissing him with so much intensity that he fell back on the bed. He was taken aback for a moment, but quickly kissed you back.

For a moment, the two of you just lay there, wrapped in one another, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

A kiss that made up for all the ones both of you had longed to have in the months before.

You pulled away gently, looking into Peter’s eyes.

“I have loved you for so fucking long, Peter. I was going to tell you that I loved you today.”

“Are you serious?”

You laughed lightly. “Of course I’m serious, you dumbass.”

“Hey!” Peter feigned offense.

You pecked his lips. “You’re a cute dumbass, though.” And then you were kissing him again, and it’s all you could’ve asked for.

----

After a while, the two of you had finally tired each other out, and now you sat cuddled against each other on your bed. No movie or show was playing; it was just you and Peter, listening to each other’s breathing and the sound of your heartbeats.

You looked up at the beautiful boy you were cuddling with, only to find he was already looking down at you.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out, Parker?”

Peter’s eyes widened, and his cheeks went red (for the millionth time that day.)

“Oh, yeah, I- I just thought- nevermind, uh- Y/N, will-”

“Yes, of course I’ll be your girlfriend, Petey.” You cut him off, saving him a few extra minutes of nervous stammering.

He smiled sheepishly at you, then leaned down to bring you into a kiss.

You cuddled back down into his chest, smiling warmly.

You can confidently say that right now, in this moment, you are the happiest you’ve ever been.

#peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker angst peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu

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seyenna · 3 years

Text

Philza and/or Techno and/or Ranboo fic recs

just some of my fav dsmp fics, mainly phil, techno or ranboo bc i’m biased but also a bunch of sbi and others

this one goes out mainly to zablr discord my beloved

pls tell me if the links don’t work

all of these are on ao3

rating\status(complete/ongoing)\warnings\word count\misc tags

ichor flows free amongst the iron by summer_rising

T\o\violence\13k\series\gods AU

Summary:

A gods and goddesses AU of the Dream SMP, dramatized for all our benefits.

First work:

"Two gods meeting on a mountaintop overlooking the stormy sea? Very classy, Dream, I appreciate your taste."

Dream didn't turn to look at him, but the faint shake of his shoulders let Techno know he had heard.

"Scar's healing up nicely, I see," Techno mumbled with a light nod of his head.

"Mhm. Cut nice and clean. Not that I expected any less from you, of course."

The god of power and the god of luck meet on a mountaintop to discuss Luck's standing in the ongoing political disaster.

We're Only Young by ImperialKatwala

G\o\-\66k\series\Dream & Technoblade

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

And when the sun comes up, you'll find a brand new god. by SkyboxZoo

M\o\violence\19k\gods AU

Summary:

The wounds from the fight had healed nigh instantly, but the golden blood still soaked Techno’s shirt. His cloak had gotten torn off and his hair had fallen out of its pony-tail. Ichor pooled in his boots. The man left a trail of golden, bloody footprints in his wake.

old gods (new gods) by WriterWinged

T\o\-\9k\series\gods AU

Summary of first work:

Survival, Blood, Madness. Philza, Technoblade, Wilbur Soot. Three gods who have never cared for mortal life, who play with them when they want to, who kill their toys just as easily. How, then, did a mortal end up in their hands?

This House Is A Fucking Nightmare by SilverWing15

T\c\-\17k\series\sbi

Summary:

AU Where Phil isn't quite as willing to stand by while his sons drop like flies

Summary of third part (my fav):

Does lingering too long in the shadow of a god make you a god? The voices in his head seem to think so.

His brothers know he's older than them but they don't know how much

OR: Technoblade doesn't think his brothers realize how different they are from ordinary men. After all, ordinary men may fight the gods, but they don't win.

It's been a long day. by BecausePlot

G\c\-\3k\Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

Sides are bad: he knows that much. He’s seen it tear people apart time and time again, so when he decided to separate himself from Tubbo and keep his distance, he knew he was in the right.

Well. He thought he was in the right, at the time. Sitting all by himself on the steps to the Prime Path, he’s not so sure anymore.

Yes, the sides might have torn the others apart, might have made them so weak that they have no choice but to fold under Dream’s hand, but at least they aren’t lonely.

So are sides bad?

‘I don’t know.’

~*~

Or, Ranboo looks out at the ruins of L'Manburg, feeling more lost and lonely than he ever has.

But, as he soon finds, he's not as alone as he thinks.

the voices in my head, they say a lot of things by rosyasteria

-\c\violence\1k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

Some days the voices didn’t listen. They didn’t let up. They screamed instead of whispered, relentless, assaulting his ears until they bled.

tell them i was the warmest place you knew and you turned me cold by rosyasteria

-\c\-\2k\Techonblade-centric

Summary:

Technoblade cared. But in the end it just fucked him over.

For the majority of his life, Techno felt like less of a companion, less of a family member, and more like a weapon to be wielded. 'The Blade' they called him; never 'friend'.

It Leaves Little Time for Anything Else by mirandible

M\c\-\1k\part of series\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

A young man aims for the top, but fate has other plans for him. So does Technoblade, apparently.

(Or: answering the question of “Why does Techno hide his scars if they’re supposed to be some sort of trophy? Why keep your point of pride a secret?”)

the best requiem is a bar of silence (and I'll sing it, even if I must hold back my tears) by jello12451

T\o\-\10k\Philza & Technoblade

Summary:

He can’t help the noise of celebration that escapes him. Techno- this means that Techno’s free, and he got his horse back, and everything is alright-

Tubbo, filled with rage at Phil’s cheers, turns and impulsively shoots an arrow.

He doesn’t expect to hit his target.

---

Alternatively: What if Phil didn't have a bucket of water when Tubbo shot him?

Change fate by being aggressively kind by sircantus

T\o\-\13k\sbi, Philza-centric

Summary:

“You do understand that you’re caring for the thing meant to bring destruction and chaos to our world, right?” The woman asks, Phil looking behind him fondly as Techno grabs at the ends of his wings.

“He’s just a child.” Phil answers distractedly, humming as his wings get gently yanked at.

“He’s the first of three to destroy life as we know it! Shouldn’t we, well, get rid of him?!”

“Oh, no.” Phil raises his eyes with a sharp glare. “Believe me, I have my own way of preventing the apocalypse.”

---

Or, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy are basically chaotic forces of nature, destined from birth to end the world and bring destruction. Most who hear of the tale of them are trying their best to track them down, and to end the monsters while they’re still young, still just children.

Phil has a different plan.

(In which Phil raises the minecraft equivalents of the anti-christ with love and support, so much so to the point where the world ending is really just a funny thought, and Phil has three kids who casually have powers that are bit more extreme than anything else in the world)

I promised you that everything would be fine by findingkairos

G\c\-\6k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

manifestation: (n.)

1. an event, action, or object that clearly shows or embodies something abstract or theoretical;

2. a version or incarnation of something or someone;

3. an appearance of a ghost or spirit;

4. the Blood God.

When he's young and still alone, still establishing his reputation as the immortal warrior, Technoblade makes up an imaginary friend.

Years later, the blood god is very real and very much a god: one that is prepared to do anything for their first and only friend.

the inner mechanism of a black box by Bee_4

T\c\violence, self-harm\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

Technoblade lets himself get imprisoned for Philza’s sake. He doesn’t plan on being there long. Unfortunately, he’s underestimated Pandora’s Vault.

There are things that will make even the Blade fall apart in due time, as it turns out.

carry all my sins by BananasofThorns

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo-centric

Summary:

Ranboo swallows. “All my armor and weapons and stuff are missing. Fundy and I were gonna go looking for them after the festival, I think.”

“I see.” Tubbo smiles again, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a festival. We could probably find someone to lend you a sword or an axe or something.”

He starts towards the stage, waving at people when they call his name, and Ranboo follows. The original panic has dulled to a cold buzz in his chest, but apprehension still wraps itself around his body like chains. He doesn’t like being without his armor and tools; he feels too exposed, and if something happens, he’ll be helpless.

“Ranboo?” Tubbo calls, glancing back.

Ranboo shakes his head and hurries to catch up. “Yeah, it’ll be fine,” he repeats. “Everything’s gonna be fine."

Tubbo grins. “That’s the spirit.”

Rule 5: be loyal. L'manberg doesn't do well with supposed traitors. Ranboo deals with the consequences.

Sojourn by Lacy_Star

T\o\-\13k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

“Well…” Ranboo started slowly, “You see, uh… I kinda… don’t have a house anymore, obviously. Um… Phil found me in—“ He paused, cutting himself off and squinting at the floorboards— very discreet, “Phil… found me. And… um… He said I could stay by you guys. Like, um, by the dog house he wants to build?” He paused, then began to ramble, “But, uh, if you don’t want me here, I understand— and I’m sorry for coming in your house when you weren’t here, I swear I didn’t touch anything— it was just cold outside and—“

Techno just stared at him. And how, how was this the second time this had happened to him? How was this the second time he returned home after battle to discover an injured teenage boy waiting for him, seeking assistance with nowhere to go? And how badly had that ended last time, in nothing but betrayal and insults?

---

AKA: Phil drags a half-enderman home after Doomsday, and Techno decides that they can keep it. For now.

can an axe count as rent? by aboutfivebees

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

Ranboo’s struggling to settle into his new life on the Arctic Anarchist Commune, but at least he’s got bread.

or the struggles of an enderman hybrid to come up with a housewarming gift to give to his friends, who are just trying to adopt him

The Caged Bird Sings of Freedom by StarPrince_Punk

T\o\-\25k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

The Blade's stance was still tense, his body prepared to fight at a moment’s notice if need be. “What’s your name?” Phil asked “My… name?” The Blade asked. “Yeah. Your name isn’t actually The Blade, right? That’s like a stage name?” Phil tried to keep his tone light. “What’s your real name?” The Blade hesitated. “No one… No one’s called me by my name in a long time.” ------- When Phil comes across Ranboo in his panic room after L'Manberg's destruction, it reminds him of when he first met Technoblade. And just like when he met Techno, Phil's first instinct is that he has to help this kid. While living together, Techno and Ranboo learn that they're much more similar than they had previously thought, and Phil learns that it's not too late for him to be a better dad.

This already feels like more of a home by H3118ENDER

T\o\violence, death\18k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

As the ashes of L'Manberg settle the conflict continues to come to life setting the stage for a new wave of blood shed. Stuck slam in the middle of past and present friends Ranboo is coming to learn that even without nations to their names feelings and feuds don't die but people, people do.

A Shadow of a Shadow by unappetizingegg

T\c\-\4k\ Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

There were a few beats of silence, and then- “What are your plans, now? Do you need a place to stay?”

That caught him off guard. Surely he’d heard incorrectly. Phil was offering him a home, right after he’d orchestrated the destruction of his past one? It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. Why would Phil say that?

Then he remembered, he remembered Techno stopping him in the fight. He remembered being handed his book, the question in Techno’s gaze. He swore, in that moment, Technoblade, the Technoblade, had been worried about him. He remembered that he had been told to leave, to run, to get away and preserve himself. He had spared him, he remembered that Techno had spared him.

Techno had helped him. Phil had tried to protect him, to get him away from the danger.

They were there for him.

---

alternatively:

Ranboo is alone. But he really isn't.

Meritocracy by oddsbodkins

G\o\-\18k\Dream & Technoblade, sbi, medieval AU

Summary:

Dream is more successful than he'd ever imagined - but there's one thing that's been bothering him. Technoblade, his biggest rival, the Acolyte of the Blood God and King of the Arena, went missing last spring, just before Dream got the chance to duel him. Without that one achievement to pave his way, all the following victories have felt cheap.

So, Dream hired some goons to dig Technoblade up and pester him into coming back to the Capitol, for one last showdown. Easy enough, right?

Interlude I: "Promises to Keep" by Ozzyyy

T\c\-\1k\part of a series\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

These woods are lovely, dark, and deep But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep.

Techno has a plan. It's crazy. It's insane, it's actually just batshit bonkers. But if chaos cannot be enjoyed together, then what's it worth, yeah? There's a certain beauty in watching the world burn from the center of the flames. Phil intends to be there.

I Don't Want To Start A Fight (wouldn't you rather start a riot?) by KryOnBlock

T\c\violence, death\15k\Technoblade & Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

An universal ping rang out from behind him, the third and final he knew, and Phil sobbed, clutching the body tighter.

Techno didn’t move.

It always has been Technoblade and Philza, Philza and Technoblade. Take on half, and you shall never go back.

Sheltered by Lulatic

G\c\-\6k\Ranboo & Technoblade

Summary:

It was cold outside. But Techno never heard Ranboo complain.

That was the best excuse he could muster to keep him out.

Antarctic Princes 'verse by BirchWrites

T\o\-\15k\series\sbi

Summary:

Loosely-connected one shots set in an AU where the Antarctic Empire and the Dream SMP are in the same world. Ordered chronologically, but each fic can be read as a standalone thing

Summary of first part:

Oh shit. Forget arrested; Dream’s going to have to tell Wilbur that he watched Tommy get stabbed for being terminally stupid.

May we cross paths again by QueenLunaFreed

G\c\-\1k\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

“Even if tomorrow it’s just us versus the entire server, Dream, I’m telling you right now - I have confidence.”

---

Dream couldn’t comprehend the pacing contradiction in front of him, the weakness he could clearly see, but would never comment on. Because this man has been defying Dream's expectations since they first met, because despite them not being friends and having no reason to trust each other, Dream knew that Technoblade is the only person who he’d trust to do this right. To destroy L'Manberg alongside him yet again, this time for real.

leave me your starlight by findingkairos

T\o\-\18k\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

For you the world, Phil.

Once upon a time, Philza Minecraft is the only person who does not shy away from the bloody teen that regularly turns the tide of war.

This cements a friendship that will last wars, empires, worlds, and lifetimes.

---

(Featuring: Back to Back Badasses, healthy relationships, accidental deification, intentional world domination, and Phil's past coming back to haunt his best friend.)

#fanfic #dsmp #technoblade #philza #ranboo #zablr #fic recs

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bipercabeth · 3 years

Note

“you didn’t need to do this” + any ship !!!

Percy tests the weight of the present Annabeth has just pressed into his hands, rolling it over to see if it’ll give any indication of what’s inside. Whatever it is must be held down as thoroughly as the wrapping paper, which is more scotch tape than decoration. A fresh breeze blows off the Atlantic, rustling the stray curls that hang from Annabeth’s twin braids. August smiles kindly on her as it always has, with sunlight dripping down the contours of her body. Summer doesn’t shine on anyone else quite as gracefully.

Annabeth’s hands fly out to cover Percy’s as he raises the present to his ear. “Maybe don’t shake it.”

Percy freezes, noting the way she worries her bottom lip. He’s known her to be many things over the years, and nervous isn’t often one of them. “Annabeth. What did you get me?”

“Open it and see for yourself.”

When the paper and tape give away, Percy holds a cardboard box with a picture of his dream camera on the front—a dream in the truest sense of the word, given that he’s never said it aloud due to the long odds of ever get his hands on one.

He must be silent for too long, because Annabeth shifts on the towel next to him. There’s still time for her to break composure and laugh, to tell him this is all a prank and tear open the box to reveal a gag gift on the inside.

Instead she says, “I don’t know much about photography, but my dad has some connections through his university and they said this was the best for land and sea, so it won’t fry like your old one.” The words come out hastily, stumbling over each other in their rush to escape.

Salt air whistles in Percy’s empty lungs. He doesn’t have the words for this—for her. “You didn’t need to do this.”

That straightens her spine with a flash of defiance that melts away the nervousness, igniting the righteous spark in her eyes that Percy loves. “No, but I wanted to.” She jabs her thumb between his furrowed brows. “Don’t give me that guilty look. It’s my money and I’m going to spend it on my favorite person if I want to, especially on his birthday.”

“You know I can’t accept this.”

“Would you buy it for yourself?”

“Annabeth.”

“Answer the question.”

“Yeah in like, five years. But I can’t—”

“Nope.” Annabeth scrambles upright, spraying Percy with sand. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

With that, she dashes down the shore without looking back. In a microcosm of the entire decade of their friendship, Percy grumbles and gives chase. The beach is empty, giving him peace of mind as he burrows the camera in their clothes before taking off.

Annabeth is too many strides ahead, her braids taunting Percy each time her feet strike the sand. Time moves slowly, suspended in the afterglow of a summer spent just like this, running after the girl too golden to be true.

Just as Percy starts to think it’s a hopeless pursuit, she veers into the water, stumbling through the waves and diving as soon as it’s deep enough. Percy plunges in after her, never more grateful for his years on the high school swim team than when he wraps an arm around her waist after a few strokes.

They’re still close enough to shore to stand, the water rising to their heaving chests which are mere inches apart. It’s just deep enough for Annabeth to struggle to keep her lips above the swell of the waves, so Percy keeps holding on. Aside from that, he doesn’t know what to do. He wasn’t expecting to catch her, let alone hold her.

Annabeth tilts her head westward. “Sun’s setting,” she notes, her ribcage swelling under Percy’s palms. “It’d make a good picture.”

Percy doesn’t have to look to know she’s right, though the shot he’s thinking is more portrait than landscape. The sky is alight with a palette of orange, pink, and yellow cast on the clouds, like the only grey things allowed in this photograph are Annabeth’s eyes. Her face is smooth, an uninterrupted line of shadow cupping her cheekbone down to her neck. There is just as much to be said for her shadows as for her light—it’s the contrast with each that makes the other.

A particularly tall wave slaps their shoulders in an attempt to pull Annabeth away. Percy adjusts his grip and tugs her closer, one hand on the back of her thigh as her legs hook around his waist. Neither of them misses their simultaneous sharp inhale; they just can’t make out what it means.

Annabeth’s hands trace a brave path along Percy’s shoulders, collecting droplets of water with a light touch. “You can pay me back for it. One dollar a month.”

“Annabeth...that’s—”

“The rest of our lives? I know.” She runs her fingertips along the back of his neck with a smile glimmering like the sunlight on the waves. “That’s how long I’m hoping to keep you for.”

They come together slowly, creeping together as the sun kisses the horizon with the same soft touch. Waves part as they pass, looking to flow through space between them that no longer exists. Every inch of skin presses together, held in place by desperate hands dimpling the soft flesh underneath. All their lives have lead them toward this moment in one consistent arc across the sky, traveling west to finally collide.

Percy pulls back to take a mental snapshot, afraid of losing the memory of the the rise and fall of Annabeth’s chest against his and all the movement a camera cannot capture. Language does not leave much space in the brain for memory, and so it is the first thing to go as he takes her in.

“Perce,” she says, colored with a mix of vulnerable and smug only she could wear well. “I’m gonna need you to say something.”

“They’re all going to be of you.”

“What?”

“The pictures.” One of his hands leaves her thigh to flirt with the edge of her jaw, the ridge that divides light and shadow. He watches her through the new lens of new love and presses his smile into her skin with the same delicate touch of August. “They’re all going to be of you.”

#here take some ridiculously soft nonsense #i know this was an angst prompt but fluff writer emma is back with a vengeance #some sunlight for u alyssa #and liz #could've seen this sooner if y'all didn't have normal sleep schedules #alyssa tag #pjo fics #my fic #my percabeth #drabbles #iris messages #useralyssa

548 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Girl In Red

Pairing: MJ x reader

synopsis: you and your best friend fall in love from childhood to adulthood

Masterlist

5 years old

You looked around the classroom, eyes wide with fear as you clutched your backpack. Your mother was busy talking to the teacher, leaving you defenseless against the sea of kids. You felt out of your element, not knowing a single person in the room. There were groups of children playing blocks, dolls, and looking at books. Everyone seemed to have found a friend already.

Everyone but one girl.

Your eyes landed on her almost immediately and you felt yourself relax. She was alone too, sitting by herself at a table and coloring. Her curly braids hung down her back, secured with red ribbons tied into bows at the bottom. They moved slightly as she colored her paper, swaying back and forth as she worked. You looked at your mom one last time before walking over the the girl and shyly taking a seat beside her. She didn’t look up and continued coloring in the flower petals she had drawn with a black crayon.

“I like your hair.” You spoke up. “You look like Dorthy.”

The girl shrugged and kept coloring, shading the bottom of her picture green to create grass.

“Dorthy was annoying. I like the witch.” She told you.

“Which one?” You asked.

“The green one. I like the way she laughs.” The girl finally looked up with a playful smile. You smiled back, no longer feeling anxious about your first day at school.

“Me too.” You nodded eagerly. “And when she says ‘I’ll get you my pretty’. Her voice is funny.”

The girl laughed at your impression and put her crayon down.

“My mother made me wear the ribbons.” She said as she looked displeased. “She said it made me look like a “young lady”.”

“Do you not want to look like a lady?” You wondered.

“I’d rather look like the witch. She was cooler.” The girl said with a smile.

“I like the dog.” You responded.

“I like the dog too.” She said, and you smiled at each other again.

“I’m Y/n.” You introduced yourself. The girl made a sad face and started coloring again.

“I don’t want to tell you my name.” She mumbled.

“Why?” You wondered.

“I don’t like it.” She shook her head.

“Well maybe I’ll like it.” You told her. “What is it?”

“Michelle.” She said slowly, like she was scared of your reaction.

“That’s a cool name.” Your face lit up. “But if you don’t like Michelle, you can just go by a different name.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. You can just make one up.” You shrugged like it was simply.

“I’ll think about it.” She decided.

“Do you want to be friends?” You asked hopefully.

“Sure.” Michelle grinned. “Wanna help me with me draw?”

“Okay. Your picture is missing a sun. You need the sun so the flowers can grow.” You told her as you examined her drawing of flowers in a field.

“I’m not good at circles yet.” Michelle thought. “Can you draw it?”

“Okay. I draw it like this so the sunshine goes on all the flowers.” You explained as you drew half of the sun in the corner of her drawing.

“Wow. Thanks Y/n.” Michelle looked at you gratefully.

“You’re welcome. I really like your drawing. I’ve never seen black flowers before.” You complimented her picture.

“Black is my favorite color.” Michelle said as she filled in the sky.

“Cool. I like that that color too.”

“Now you have to sign the drawing since we made it together.” Michelle said as she slid her drawing closer to her.

“Okay.” You nodded as you signed your initials in black crayon. “Now you.”

Michelle picked up the crayon and signed a big “+ MJ” under your name, making it look like two lovers that carved their initials in a tree. You looked curiously at what she wrote and realized something.

“Wait, look.” You pointed to the paper.

“What?” She looked up at you.

“What if you made your name MJ?” You suggested, making MJ smiled with excitement.

“I like it.” She nodded eagerly. “You can call me MJ.”

“Let’s be best friends forever, MJ.” You held out your pinky and she linked it with hers.

“Okay. I have an idea.” MJ said as she took the two red ribbons out of her hair. She tied one around your wrist and you helped her tie one around yours.

“These can be our friendship bracelets.” She explained as you finished tying her ribbon.

“It’s perfect. Now everyone knows we’re best friends.” You grinned as you held your wrist close to hers, your matching ribbons brushing against each other. MJ twirled her wrist, admiring her ribbon and matched your grin.

“We’re gonna be best friends for the rest of our lives.”

14 years old

“Hey dipshit. Get any sleep last night or are under eye bags the new trend I have to actively hate?” MJ asked as she came up behind you, grabbing your hood and pulling it over your head. You let out a groan as you pushed your hood off, making a face at her as you smoothed your hair down. You’d been walking to school together since you were little, and it still never got boring. She fell into an easy stride next to you as she slung an arm around your shoulders.

“Shut up. I was busy doing your dad all night long.” You shot back as you intertwined your fingers with hers.

“You’re gross.” She laughed as she shoved you. “He’s gross.”

“Fine.” You agreed. “I was up because I couldn’t figure out the physics homework for the life of me.”

“Why didn’t you text me for help, bubba?” She asked as she squished your cheeks together, something she’d been doing since you were kids.

“Because you go to bed as soon as the sun goes down like a rooster.” You teased her back as you tried to step on her feet. She laughed as she skillfully moved her feet to dodge you.

“I don’t know about roosters, but I do like getting a good nights sleep.” She shrugged.

“Well some of us don’t have that luxury.” You stated as you finally looked at her. She caught sight of your cherry red lipstick and raised her eyebrows.

“So I see. Nice lipstick.” She commented. Your hands immediately went to your lips at her words.

“Does it look bad?” You asked quietly.

“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve just never seen you wear makeup before.”

“I knew it. I look ridiculous.” You groaned and took out your phone to look at the camera. You saw your reflection and grimaced, insecurely touching up the edges.

“Then why did you wear it?” MJ asked curiously. The two of you never ventured too far from your usually styles, so the lipstick was surprising to her. She’d never seen you in makeup before and she kinda liked it.

She just wanted to know who you wore it for.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged shyly. “I just wanted to look pretty.”

MJ stopped walking suddenly, making you stop as well. You turned to look at her and found a serious look at her face.

“You always look pretty.” She stared, making you blush. You looked around for listeners and walked closer to her, close enough that your chests were pressing together. MJ held her breath as how close you were, unable to hear anything but her heart beating in her ears.

“Do you think the boys will notice me?” You asked quietly. “With the lipstick, I mean?”

MJ’s face scrunched in confusion as she stuffed her hands in her pockets as disappointment sunk it.

“Who cares what the boys think?” MJ scoffed, averting her eyes to hide her indifference.

“I do.” You insisted. She gulped and looked down at you, always taller than you.

“Why? Boys are stupid.” She said as she dug her toe into the ground.

“I know but,” you shrugged helplessly, “we’re the only ones in the grade who haven’t had their first kiss yet.”

“We’re also the only ones in the grade who haven’t had mono.” She reminded you. “I think we’re okay.”

“I’m being serious.” You whined. “I feel like I’m falling behind. Why doesn’t anybody want to kiss me?”

“Maybe because you look like the babysitter from Cat In The Hat with that lipstick on.” MJ laughed as she cupped your face, wiping some of your lipstick off with her thumbs.

“I know. It was stupid.” You pouted. “I just wanted to look pretty.”

“You’re not stupid.” MJ said quietly as her thumb dragged along your bottom lip. “And I already told you.”

“Told me what?” You asked as you looked up at her.

“You’re always pretty.” She smiled softly, making you smile back. You kept waking, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you until you stopped again.

“Would you kiss me?”

MJ stopped in her tracks and looked at you with a pink tint on her face.

“What?” She stammered.

“If you were a boy, I mean.” You added quickly. “Would you want to kiss me?”

MJ blinked a few times as she walked back to you, stopping when she was right in front of you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I wanna kiss you.” She said softly. “I, uh, I would want to kiss you. If I were a boy.” She corrected herself as she looked away.

“Okay. I feel better.” You blew out a breath of relief before your face fell. “No I don’t. Why doesn’t anyone else want to kiss me? Is there something wrong with me?”

“Theres nothing wrong with you, bubba.” MJ assured you as she put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “No ones kissed me either.”

You chewed your bottom lip as you looked at her, a million thoughts going through your head.

“Should we…should we kiss?” You asked timidly. “Just so we can say we’ve had our first kiss.”

MJ’s eyes widened in surprise before a shy smile tugged at her lips.

“Okay.” She nodded, trying to conceal her excitement. You felt your own butterflies flutter in your tummy as you stepped closer to her and got up on your tippy toes. You put your hands on her shoulders, laughing nervously as your heads bumped together.

“I don’t really know how to do it.” You admitted as awkward giggles left your mouth.

“Just close your eyes and lean in.” She instructed, placing hesitant hands on your hips.

“What if I miss your lips?” You feared, eyes lingering on her lips before going back to her eyes.

“I’ll hold your face to guide you, okay?” MJ asked you as she cupped her face. You leaned into her hands as you felt your face heating up.

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’m ready.”

You shut your eyes and and braced yourself as you felt MJ pulling your face towards hers.

And all at once, you were enchanted.

You felt her lips on yours, the foreign feeling sending a wave of butterflies in your tummy. You instinctively leaned in further, wanting to feel her close. She pulled away, only when she couldn’t breathe, and slowly opened her eyes. Yours fluttered open and you immediately lit up in a smile as a nervous chuckle escaped your lips.

“You have lipstick on your face.” You told her as you wiped it off with the back of your hand.

“I thought I got it all off.” She whined. “Now we both look like clowns.”

You laughed again, slowly taking your arms off her shoulders and straightening her jacket.

“Thanks for kissing me.” You said, trying to act as normal as possibly with the fireworks going off inside of you. MJ cleared her throat and nodded, feeling just as dazed as you were.

“Anytime.”

17 years old

“Can you believe this is our last year in high school?” MJ asked as you sat beside her on the roof of her car. Your whole class was at the beach for senior sunrise, huddling together for warmth as you waited for the sun to rise.

“Yes and no.” You shrugged. “It feels like freshman year was last week but at the same time, I feel like I’ve been here forever.”

“I feel the same way. It went by super fast, but also super, super slowly.”

“I’m gonna miss it.” You said as you stared off at the rising sun, feeling yourself getting emotional for a minute.

“Me too.” MJ said as she looked at you, sensing your vulnerability. She put a comforting hand on your shoulder and rubbed your back to soothe you. You turned your head to look at her and smiled over your shoulder.

“I like this hoodie on you. You look good in it.” You smirked as you tugged on her hoodie.

“Thanks.” She chuckled. “Thought I’d switch things up from the black I usually wear.”

“I like it. You look good.” You said, biting your lip as you admired just how gorgeous your best friend was.

“You said that already.” She teased you, poking your side as you leaned into her.

“Did I? Sorry.” Your laughter went up to the sky as she laid her head in your lap, her curls ticking your bare legs. You let your hand run through her curls, pulling at them so they straightened and bounced back into shape.

“It’s okay.” She said as she looked up at you. “The sky is beautiful.”

She was most definitely not talking about the sky as she stared at you from your lap, feeling like she could stay there forever.

“I know. I’ve never seen red like this. It’s like I’m seeing the color for the first time.” You sighed as you gazed down at her.

You also weren’t talking about the sky.

“Yeah.” She smiled lazily until she saw you shiver. “Are you cold?”

“No. No, I’m fine.” You lied, not wanting her to move.

“Your lips are blue.” She said as she sat up, touching your face with her hand.

“Are they? Oops.” You giggled as you leaned into her hand.

“Here. Hopefully that stops you from looking like a cadaver.” MJ rolled her eyes as she wrapped her arms around you, letting your stick your cold hands inside the sleeves of her hoodie. You rested your head on her shoulder and felt her warmth radiating onto you.

“Thanks. That’s much better.” You commented as you nuzzled into her neck. “You smell good. You smell like tea.”

“I had some before I came.” She told you as you shivered again. “You’re freezing. I told you to wear pants.”

“But pants didn’t go with my outfit.” You whined as you stretched your legs out on the hood of her car.

“Neither does hypothermia.” She said as he rested her head on top of yours.

“I wanted to look cute for our last first day.” You defended as goosebumps covered your skin like an unwelcome blanket.

“You always look cute. You in those little high waisted shorts.” She shook her head and let out a content sigh as the sun slowly rose on the two of you.

“I’m glad you like them, because they’re gonna have to pry them off my frozen dead body.”

“I won’t let that happen.” She assured you. “Let’s go to the little hut over there. It’s too cold for you here.”

“Okay.” You agreed as MJ tugged you by the hand towards a little wooden hut down the beach. Once inside, she plopped down on the sand and made grabby hands at you. You laughed as you laid down beside her, curling into her side and rested your head on her heartbeat.

“MJ?” You asked after a beat of silence.

“Yeah bubba?” She answered.

“You’re my best friend.” You told her.

“And you’re mine.” She said as she kissed the top of your head. “We’re gonna be best friends for the rest of our lives.”

You chuckled against her body as she quoted herself from the day you met.

“Hey, lovebirds. We’re heading to school. You can continue planning your homosexual agenda later.” Peters voice came from outside the hut, making the two of you jump out of the embrace and sit up…straight.

“Shut up, Parker. Don’t act like you and Ned didn’t fall asleep at the lock-in last year and wake up spooning.” You calmed back as you got up, not turning around as you walked out of the hut so MJ wouldn’t see your blush. It was weird. Had Peter not interrupted, you might’ve kissed your best friend.

And you really wanted to kiss her.

“Come on. We can fight over which friend group is more likely to fall in love later.” Ned said as you all headed back towards the cars. MJ fell into a stride beside you, slipping her hand into yours and unintentionally reassuring you that she had felt it too.

“Since Ned and I aren’t holding hands, I’d say MJ and Y/n have us beat.” Peter teased as he clocked the hand holding. MJ flipped him off, to which he responded with a stuck out tongue.

“You’re right. Quick, kiss me Peter.” Ned said dramatically as he cupped Peters face.

“I’ve been waiting all day for you to ask.” Peter matched his dramatic tone and pretended to kiss Ned.

“They’re so immature.” MJ scoffed as you pretended to gag.

“I know. And we are totally more likely to fall in love.” You laughed, only half joking as you looked at her.

“Totally.” She agreed, feeling the butterflies return.

18 years old

“Can you try to calm down and tell me what happened?” You begged MJ from her bed as she paced around the room. Ever since you got back from the party, she’d been in a bad mood. More specifically, ever since you kissed Peter in the closet as a dare, she’d been in a bad mood. The night started with you in a tight red dress, a dress that made MJ forget her own name. It ended with her staring at a closed closet door as her classmates cheered for Peter. Those seven minutes you were in there with Peter felt like a lifetime for MJ as a sinking feeling filled her tummy. There was no more denying it.

She loved you.

“I just don’t understand.” She exclaimed. “I drop hints, I make gestures, I give compliments. How can you be so forward with someone and they still don’t realize you like them?”

You had no idea she was ranting about you, and she was determined to keep it that way.

“Well boys are stupid.” You shrugged, thinking her own words would be of aid to her. She stopped pacing and looked at you, more heartbroken than you had ever seen her.

“I’m not talking about boys. I’m talking about girls.” She cried.

A silence filled the room as it clicked in your mind that your best friend of 13 years had just come out to you. It was bitter sweet moment for you, but also a scary one. You couldn’t deny that you’d developed feelings for her over the years, but now knowing that she liked girls left you feeling pressured to do something about those feelings. Not only did the girl you like just confirm she liked girls, she also told you she had feelings for someone else.

“Oh.” You said slowly, feeling your mouth dry out.

“Yeah.” MJ nodded as her eyes stayed glue to the ground. That was not the way she planned on coming out to you. She wanted to tell you in a cool way, a way that made you want to be with her. You blinked a few times as you collected yourself and gave her a reassuring smile, a smile that sparked hope in her heart.

“Well I’m sure girls are stupid too.”

MJ let out a groan, knowing it was too good to be to ever think you’d like her back.

“But that’s the thing. She’s not stupid.” MJ shook her head and went back to pacing. “She’s basically the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. So why doesn’t she see that I’m in love with her?”

“Maybe she doesn’t know you like girls. Maybe she thinks you just compliment her as a friend.” You spoke from experience, thinking of all the times you complimented MJ in a less than platonic way.

“I don’t want to be her friend.” MJ put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I want to kiss her until I lose my breath. I wanna be with her.”

You clenched her bedsheets between your fingers, feeling jealousy bubble in you as MJ confessed her feelings for someone who wasn’t you.

Well, it was you, but you didn’t know that.

“Hm.” You hummed, not trusting your voice enough to speak.

“I just don’t know how to tell her.” MJ looked at you with sad eyes. “I don’t even know if she likes girls.”

“How long have you been into this girl?” You wondered, knowing the answer would probably just make you more upset.

“Feels like my whole life.” MJ sighed. “I’ve never wanted anyone but her.”

Your blood boiled in your veins and you gulped, your heart breaking in your chest as you thought MJ just told you she never felt anything for you. If you just realized she’d meant you, both of you would be saved from a world of heartbreak.

“Never? Not even a little crush on someone else?” You squeaked.

“No. Just her. She’s got a hold on me.” MJ said definitely, making your chest feel heavy. You looked down at the floor as you experienced very first heartbreak. It was almost fitting that it was her. She was your first friend, your first kiss, and now your first heartbreak.

“You should tell her that. She’d be really lucky to hear it.” You said quietly as you quickly wiped a fallen tear.

“I can’t. I think she likes someone else. If we haven’t gotten together by now, it wasn’t meant to be.” She blew out a breath and ran her fingers through her hair, turning her back to you to conceal how hurt she was.

If she just asked, she would’ve found out kissing Peter felt like kissing a wall. It was nothing compared to that kiss on your way to school when you were 14.

Nothing was.

“Is that what you think?” You asked, letting your tears fall now that she was turned around. She nodded her head and you felt defeated.

“Then you’re probably right.” You nodded. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”

You both stood in her bedroom, silently crying as your lack of communication broke each other’s hearts.

20 years old

Your phone lit up and showed that “jones barbecue and foot massage” was calling you, making your heart skip a beat. You plugged your finger in your ear to block out the noise of the harvest festival and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked, looking around the festival for your best friend. You were both home from college for thanksgiving and planned to see each other immediately.

“Turn around.” You heard her voice, sending a wave of emotions through your body. You turned around and saw her in her typical relaxed attire and beaten up jacket, making your heart swell.

“MJ!” You screamed and ran towards her, not stopping until she was held tightly in your arms. She hugged you back as hard as she could, taking in your scent that she had missed for so long. You felt tears of joy come to your eyes as you held her.

Your first love, back in your arms at last.

“I missed you, bubba.” She mumbled unto your ear as she kissed your cheek. You pulled away and let her wipe the tears off of your face.

“I missed you more.” You laughed in embarrassment and pointed at your tears. “How’s college?”

“I’m broke and I gained five pounds.” She nodded. “How about you?”

“Same!” You squealed and threw your arms around her again. She laughed cheerfully as she hugged you back, rubbing your back the way she used too.

“I brought you something.” She remembered when you pulled apart and she began to dig in her backpack.

“You did?” You asked as you waited for her to find what she was looking for. Finally, she presented you with a bright red candy apple, making your eyes light up.

“I passed a stand on my way here.” She shrugged. “Do you still like them? I vividly remember you getting it all over your face every year at the Halloween fair.”

“Uh, duh.” You exclaimed as you excitedly unwrapped it. “They’re only the best holiday treat.”

“Well I’m glad to know you haven’t changed.” MJ laughed as you practically unhinged your jaw to bite the apple.

“Oh my God. It tastes like heaven.” You sighed as you took another bite, getting the red dye all over your face.

“I bet it does.” MJ snorted, admiring you at your happiest.

“This would be my last meal in prison. This is all I would need before I go.” You nodded in content as you ate the apple.

“You have it all over your face.” MJ informed you with a fond smile, just enjoying the sight of you being happy.

“I do? I didn’t even feel it.” You laughed as you touched your face. You felt the sticky substance all over your mouth and turned away in embarrassment to wipe it.

“Don’t look away.” MJ laughed as she pulled your arm so you were facing her. “You look cute.”

“No I don’t. I look like I just ate a small animal in the woods.” You shook your head and set the apple down on its wrapper on a table.

“Nah. It reminds me of the red lipstick you used to wear.” She teased you, only worsening your embarrassment.

“Stop. That was so embarrassing.” You whined as you touched your face again, feeling the red stuff on the tip of your nose.

“Here. Let me help.” MJ took out a wet wipe and began to clean your hands. You laughed shyly as she got closer to you and twisted the wipe around each finger.

“Oh my God. It’s everywhere.” You groaned. “If someone kissed me right now, they would stick.”

“Probably.” MJ chuckled as she wiped the tip of your nose clean. You stared at her as she did, always in awe of her beauty. She ran the wipe across your lips and slowly looked into yours eyes, feeling the same way she did at 14. You didn’t hesitate this time and leaned in to kiss her, no longer caring about the candy apple. MJ’s hands cupped your face and pulled you closer, as close as she was allowed. You put your now cleaned hands on her hips and pulled her flush against you. MJ couldn’t help but thinking about how fitting your first meeting was. You literally added the sunshine into her life and got her to see things in a different light. And now, she finally had you in the way she wanted.

“I missed you, MJ.” You whispered when you pulled away. MJ chuckled and kissed you again, softly this time.

“I missed you too, bubba.”

Tag List 🏷

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#mj x reader #mj x y/n #mj fluff #mj x you #michelle jones x y/n #michelle jones x you #michelle jones x reader #mj angst #peter parker x reader #marvel #wlw

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blackjacktheboss · 3 years

Text

the photo • mob au

For as long as Percy can remember, he has had dreams of becoming a husband and a father, of giving himself over completely to love and the service of it. But every dream he has ever had can not even come close to the reality of being married to Annabeth, and getting to have a child with her. That child being Ruthie, the human embodiment of a ray of sunshine that warms you on a cool summer day, only makes things even more surreal.

“Daddy, are you listening?” she shouts up at him.

Percy shakes his head, clearing it momentarily of his romantic thoughts. “Sorry, Monster, I got distracted. What’s up?”

“I said,” she chides with an attitude. “Do you think that mommy will like the strawberries?”

“Oh, she’s gonna love them, baby,” he answers. “I mean, you picked them yourself. How could she not?”

The five year old smiles with pride as she scoots the bowl containing the fruit closer to her dad and the picnic basket he is packing. He throws in a nice loaf of bread he picked up from the baker in the early hours of the morning, and matching bottles of champagne and sparkling apple cider.

“Now,” he says, admiring his own handiwork with his hands on his hips. “You said you wanted to bring a book to read with mom.”

Ruthie’s eyes get big and she bites her bottom lip. “Mhmm!”

“Do you need my help getting it?” he asks.

She turns and breaks into a sprint. “NO, I GOT IT DADDY!”

A few minutes later she returns with a book in her arms that she holds close to her chest.

“What did you pick?”

“It’s a surprise, daddy, I can’t tell you!” she says with an offended frown.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he says, averting his gaze. “How rude of me.”

“I forgive you,” Ruthie says nicely. “Can my puppies come with us?”

“Of course they can, it’s a picnic!”

Ruthie smiles, and jumps in place excitedly. “Do the New York whistle! Please, daddy!”

Percy laughs, and winks at his daughter. “You got it, kid.”

He sticks his thumb and index finger in his mouth and takes a deep breath, exhaling into a shrill whistle that cuts through the cavernous estate. Ruthie giggles as she pins her book under her arm to cover her ear, always delighted by her dad’s whistling ability. Soon, the sounds of paws clacking against the hardwood floors get closer and closer until two huge black dogs are tripping over each other to say hello to Ruthie, who again giggles in delight.

“Puppies!” she shouts.

“More like ponies,” Percy says under his breath. “Everyone ready to go outside?”

Blackjack barks at the mention of his favorite word and Ruthie barks along with him, earning a delighted giggle from Percy in turn. He turns to grab the picnic basket, grunting as he pulls it off the counter and has to contend with its hefty weight.

“We may have packed too much,” he admits, as his kid and dogs look up at him expectantly.

“Seems just right to me,” Ruthie says with a shrug.

Percy’s heart swells as he looks down at the little girl who seems to be a carbon copy of the love of his life, and almost can’t believe how damn lucky he really is.

Percy shrugs right back. “Well, you are the boss.”

Ruthie twirls and heads out of the room, her dogs closely in tow. “Picnic time!”

A huge red blanket adorned with white lace flowers that was made by a woman in town is spread across the open green hilltop that overlooks the sea. An olive tree with a thick, twisted trunk towers over them, her branches providing shade from the warm August afternoon.

Ruthie runs around with the dogs, her bubbly laugh filling the air. Her laughing soon turns into cheering as she notices the lean figure of her mother walking towards them. Ruthie takes off towards Annabeth, jumping into her arms and excitedly turning back to Percy to wave and alert him that they are on their way to the picnic.

As he watches them approach, Percy’s head is again filled with an endless stream of thoughts about the life he has built with Annabeth. One chance meeting in Montauk had changed the trajectory of his entire life, and he will always be in debt to whatever confluence of events allowed it to happen.

Growing up, he loved watching his mom tell stories about his dad and he will never forget the way her eyes always lit up whenever he came up in conversation. While his father’s love was intangible in many ways, it was also the very thing his entire existence was predicated on. It is something he has held close to his heart like a prayer, and as he watches his family walk towards him, he hopes with everything that he is that he is doing his father’s legacy justice.

“You’ve got that starry look in your eyes,” Annabeth says with a suspicious squint as she sets her daughter down. “Are you over here being sappy?”

Percy can’t help his dopey smile. “Always. But with the perfect wife and daughter, how could I not?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes as she sits on the blanket, blessing Percy with a chaste kiss that is over too soon for his liking.

“How was work?” he asks, his eyes still dazed and dreamy.

“Surprisingly good,” she answers as Ruthie climbs into her lap. “Everything is set for our return.”

“Is Nana gonna be there?” Ruthie asks, leaning her head all the way back against her mom’s chest to look up at her awkwardly.

Annabeth places a quick kiss to Ruthie’s forehead. “Of course she will. She’s gotta see her best girl.”

“Uncle Grover is gonna be there too,” Percy adds.

Ruthie wraps her arms around herself, dipping her head in shyness. “Everyone loves me so much.”

Annabeth wraps Ruthie up in a bear hug and places a dozen kisses to her cheek. “So so so SO much, Honeybee.”

For a moment, the family simply sits in bliss, enjoying each other’s company and the perfect island day. But with an active five year old, that can never last long.

“Mommy, it’s time for strawberries and reading,” Ruthie declares as she stands and grabs the berries from the basket. She then walks to the far end of the blanket, lifting the corner to reveal the book she has chosen.

“The book was a secret?” Annabeth whispers to Percy.

He raises his eyebrows and nods, whispering back. “Privileged information. A family tradition.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes but laughs all the same, watching expectantly as Ruthie marches back to her and hands her a copy of Pippi Longstocking.

Annabeth takes the book, carefully running her hand over the cover. “Where did you find this?”

Ruthie shrugs. “My room.”

“Was it yours?” Percy asks.

Annabeth looks up, smiling as her eyes shine with tears. “It was a gift from my mom the first summer we spent here. I thought I lost it.”

Ruthie stands with her hands behind her back, slowly twirling from side to side. “Will you please read it to me please?”

Annabeth swallows and nods twice. “Nothing would make me happier.”

Annabeth leans on her side, opening the book, and Ruthie lays down to curl into her mom’s side. Percy is overwhelmed, and wonders how a man can possibly survive when his heart is living outside of his body, split up between the two most important people in his life. On instinct, he reaches for his camera and quietly stands to be able to get the perfect picture of his loves.

The camera clicks and Percy knows, without a doubt, that the shot is a winner.

#mob au #ruth eleanor jackson #my edit

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ckbookish · 3 years

Text

BATMAN BINGO MASTER POST 2020

1 "I thought you were dead.": I Still See Your Ghost

Today was just not Dick's day. First he overslept his alarm and was late to work. Amy had been less than impressed at his tardiness... Then He had bungled what should have been an easy take town... But the straw that broke the camel's back was Tim. Dick had forgotten to call Tim.

2 Friendly fire: Fratricide

Jason was pissed. No, Jason was enraged. Yeah, he was enraged at the whole mess his family-- if that’s even what they were to each other anymore-- had gotten him in. It was meant to be a simple night. Break in. Torch the drugs. Maybe shoot a couple of people and go home. But no, Batman heard about his plans and decided that arson was too extreme. “Someone could get hurt.” Well someone had gotten hurt, a lot of someones.

3 Hypothermia: Weekend Commute

Dick Grayson makes his way home during the first snow fall of the year, when he finds himself confused and cold, miles from home.

Chapter two Bruce's perspective.

4 Superman: Bringer of the Dawn

The Aftermath of when the Joker shoots Dick.

Where do you go when your family tells you to get out?

5 Shot: The Gratitude Trap

Bruce finds himself in the dark, a place he never thought he would be when it came to Clark Kent and Dick Grayson. Yet here he is digging for answers, because he is too scared to pick up the phone and call.

6 Two-face: The Better Choice

How do you reconcile the man who was once your friend with the monster he has become? Bruce reflects on how the man he once called his best friend changed. How could the man who helped him foster Dick, hold that baseball bat?

7 Drowning: Omori’s Law

Deep in the sewer's under Gotham, Batman is trapped. There is no back up, no Robin. He is faced with the single truth that he tried to teach each of his partners... You have to save yourself.

8 Found Family: A Restoration from a Resilient Heart

Dick just wants to not be alone with the shadows in the house. Bruce doesn't realize he has lived with them for far to long, and maybe he doesn't have to anymore.

9 Adoption: The Irrefutable Truth

When he reached the reception, he found himself looking around a fairly empty room. There were a few call girls in the corner filling out forms, an older woman holding a dog, a kid that looked about twelve and a middle aged man who looked like he was ready to cry. He knew no one. Dick was about to turn around and head back to his desk when the on duty officer called out to him. Officer O’Conner was one of his fellow rookies, he had a thick accent. Dick thought he might be from Louisiana. “Grayson! Why didn’t you say your brother was coming to see you?” Dick looked at him with his mouth slightly open. There was no way he heard that right. “My what?”

10 Bruises: Mr. Wayne

Tim is new to this. He's only been Robin for a little over six months. It was going well. But now he was going to be fired. Batman wouldn't want a partner who got caught at school with a black eye. Would he?

11 Bruce is dead: You Have One Saved Message

Gotham gossip columns spread lies and smear good people's names. But yet Damian can't help but think maybe this mornings article was true. That despite all his claims of being the true son of Bruce Wayne, he was in fact the only unwanted one.

12 CPR: Vital Signs

Robin wakes to find him and Batman in an exploded factory. With Batman injured and the building burning around them, Dick struggles to get them both to safety.

13 Dad: Storge

Bruce could have sworn his spirit had left him momentarily. The sudden hollowness that filled him couldn’t be explained in any other way.

“Your dad must have his hands full with you.” Elizabeth Ribbons leaned forward and patted Dick’s shoulder, as he reached for yet another slice of cheesecake from a passing waiter’s tray.

Bruce fixed his eyes on the ice sculpture that hid him from view. It suddenly seemed like the most interesting design in the world. The soft lines of the ice on the otherwise insignificant over sized swan seemed like a lead shield... Because Dick would read it easily in his expression. He wanted to be Dick’s dad. But he wasn’t.

14 Stealing the Batmobile: T-Minus Six Hours

Some days Tim is sure that he’s gonna be killed. Usually it’s some luck shot or near miss that made his life flash before his eyes. Not today though. Today he was positive Bruce was going to kill him. Yes, today was the day that Timothy Jackson Drake was going to be put down. He’s not sure that even Nightwing could save him. He was going to go down in history as the first sidekick to be murdered by their mentor. Because the Batmobile was definitely not where he’d parked it.

15 Wayne Enterprises: Amidst the Absence of Meaning

Bruce is worried. He's running on less than three hours of sleep, and way too many cups of coffee. He had messed up. That much was obvious. The question was would Dick forgive him?

A gruesome night on patrol bleeds into Bruce's work day and now all he can wonder is if this is the thing that will push Dick over the edge? Had he finally seen to much pain?

16 Ransom: Sum of My Worth

The ring of the phone seemed to echo through the manor’s still too quiet long, winding halls, and everyone present collectively held their breath. Bruce lunged for the phone.

17 Secret Injury: Hiding in Pain Sight

“What?” Dick asked sharper than he meant to. He was tired.

“Nothing.” Tim said with a small smirk. “Heavy is the head.”

Dick closed his eyes, glad that Tim couldn’t see them. He was so sick of this. Tim, Jason, Damian and Cass all didn’t think he was good enough, well Cass hadn’t said that, but Dick could read her. They didn’t think he was up to the job. Well they didn’t need to tell him that. He knew it.

18 Superboy: An Interlude in Breathing

Tim looked out over the water in a daze. Bruce and Dick had gone somewhere below deck and he was alone. Well there were strangers on the ship mingling and talking excitedly--but Tim gave them no notice. Instead he watched the water lap up against the hull and crash down back to meet the dark, cold waters. They were far enough out that he could no longer see the shore. It was just endless expenses of sea and sky. Something tickled his neck and he started, only to realize he had been crying. It was only a tear slipping under his collar.

The days after the battle of Infinite Crisis

19 Betrayed: Smother

She took another drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke roll in her lungs for a long moment before allowing it hiss out between her teeth. The screams from the warehouse weren’t completely muffled by the distance, or the walls. Perhaps she was only imagining them. But then, sounds like that, she didn’t think she could dream up. She jumped after a particularly high pitched yelp. “Get a grip.” She dropped the cigarette and pulled out another. Her hand shook as she lit it. “It’s just some random kid. He’s not--” She bit back a sob. She didn’t deserve to cry. She had no right to tears, not when it was her fault.

20 Crowbar: Breaklights

The mail fell to the ground and the paper smacked the tiles hard. The sound in reality couldn’t have been all that loud, but it seemed to echo around the entryway. Bruce didn’t look at the dropped bills and the invitation to a fundraiser for the new Gotham women’s shelter. He was too fixated on the small stamp with the queen of England's head on it. Wolverhampton.

The large envelope was far heavier then it should have been. Bruce could feel bile crawling up his throat.

He had forgotten.

21 Deathstroke: Debts and Dues

There were some things that were never pleasant, getting caught in the snow without socks, losing your keys, and not being able to remember the name of a song. Having a gun pointed at your chest, Dick felt, qualified as extremely unpleasant. He stood stock still. The barrel of the gun was still hot, it burned slightly as it dug into his sternum. Even with his uniform he could still feel the heat left over from previous rounds fired. He didn’t flinch. He couldn’t flinch. “Move.” “You know I can’t.” Dick wondered if Slade had the guts to do it.

22 Mission Gone Wrong: Murmur in the Quiet Hours

Superman? Clark froze. He knew that voice. But-- he had never heard it sounding so sad. Was that-- no. Clark dove for his phone, still on the counter from when he got home last night. The screen was black. Dead. Clark swore and dropped it. He was in his coat and shoes before it hit the counter top.

23 Kidnapped: Chum

Dick trumped through the leaves, stopping his feet roughly. He relished the sound of the crunch beneath his shoes as he tread on the brown, dead leaves before him. He felt rather justified in his satisfaction. After all the world had taken so much from him, why wouldn’t he do his best to crush it in return. The woods were cool and as he went deeper into them they grew darker. The sun had long set, and the sky was quickly vanishing as the trees grew thicker. Wayne Manor was far behind him. He was never going back. He hated those pristine walls, those old floor boards. He hated the quiet. He hated the stuffy furniture and the rules and the vases and pictures. He hated his new guardian and that… that… Dick couldn’t remember what Alfred was called, but he hated it. The bag on his back felt heavy. It had everything Dick owned in it. Well and a toothbrush that Alfred had given him. But he didn’t think that was really stealing.

24 Riddler: Seeking Silence on Shortwaves

Normally Dick would be happy to listen to Tim talk. In fact, Dick thought it was one of his favorite sounds in the world. Tim rarely allowed himself to be excited about things. Hearing him speak so freely and openly to Bruce and him about his plans was refreshing. Dick only wished it wouldn’t be at the cost of his life.

Batman hadn't always been so strict about talking unnecessarily over comms. When it was just two of them it hadn't mattered, their walkie talkie system had always worked. But now that Nightwing and Robin were in Gotham, it seems insane that they never realized: if only one person can talk over the radio at a time... how could they call for help?

25 Mr. Freeze: Glimpsing the Sun While Trapped in the Rime

He almost called Bruce between his fourth and fifth class. He pulled his phone out, leaning against his locker, and half dialed his number when a warm hand fell on his shoulder. “Hey.” Dick spun around and blinked back black spots as his body protested the sudden movement. A blaze of red hair filled his vision and Dick felt a small fire build in his chest. His face split into a wide smile.

After a run in with Mr. Freeze Dick finds himself feeling odd at school, but he can't go home, not when Barbara's asked him to drive her to Betty's party after school.

#batman bingo 2020 #Master Post #Batman #CK Writes #Nightwing #Dick Grayson #tim drake #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Red Hood #Red Robin #robin #My Writing

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a-is-for-abel · 3 years

Text

"“I’m moving.” He froze, glancing up at his friend. The other boy’s eyes were gleaming with suppressed sobs, breath hitching and jaw clenched. “Mom got a job in another state and we’re moving in a month.”

Inspired by this prompt by @givethispromptatry

Sand and shells crunched under the belly of the kayak as it ran aground. With a wobble and a curse he tumbled into the water, paddle floating away from him and kayak shooting off in the opposite direction.

"Fuck."

He scrambled to collect both, tossing the paddle up onto the beach and grabbing the handle at the bow of the kayak to tow it onto shore.

"You're late."

He rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder to see Warren in all his cut-offs and sandals glory. "And you're early."

Warren crossed his arms. "I'm literally the most on time, dude."

"Whatever, just-- Help me grab the stuff."

He popped open the watertight chamber in front of the seat and reached into the belly of the kayak, all while Warren struggled to pull the backpack out from under the cage of bungee cords at the front.

"Just unhook them, dude," he said, his cellphone and two unopened cream sodas finally in hand.

"Don't tell me how to do it."

"It's not going to--"

"Shit!" Warren yelped, recoiling and clutching his hand.

"Told you."

Warren flicked him off, but turned to do what he said anyway.

"Come on, suns gonna start setting soon." He grabbed his backpack from Warren and stuffed the drinks and his phone inside.

"What? Afraid of some gators?"

"No," he said. "Rather a gator than my dad."

Warren grimaced. "He still got you on that curfew?"

"Yup."

He picked his way through the mangrove thicket that cut the beach off from the rest of the spoil island. The roots of the black mangroves jutted up like fingers through the sand and the stilts of the red mangroves tried their best to snag his feet as he ducked under the sprawling web of an orb weaver hidden in their midst. Thankfully, it cleared out past the initial wall of foliage, becoming more barren with only the occasional thicket.

He remembered when his dad had led them through here the first time and explained that the mangroves kept the spoil islands standing. That when hurricanes and storms threatened to wash them away, their roots would act like a little army, keeping off any barrage and harboring whatever took up shelter under them.

He frowned. His dad and him hadn't come out here since--

"Fuck, fuck, fu--" Warren sputtered behind him, high-pitched.

"Web?" he asked, glancing back to see Warren flinching away from a tree.

"Yeah, fuck--" Warren brushed his arms off frantically and patted at his hair. "Fucking spiders all over the fucking place, man. They call it Mosquito Lagoon, but it really should be spider god damn la-- Fuck!"

"Nice one, ‘spider god damn la-fuck’ really has a special sort of ring to it."

Warren shot him a glare and dusted off his shoulders and the front of his shirt with quick flicks. "You owe me for psychological damages..."

"Come on, we used to come out here all the time."

"When I was like ten! And with your dad!" Warren cowered away from another web that sprawled from a lone tree. "And I didn't have as much free real estate for a spider to like, you know-- Crawl all over me or whatever."

"Free real estate?"

"Yeah, you know the whole--" Warren gestured vaguely. "The meme."

"God, please stop," he groaned. "That shits like, what, twenty-seventeen? That's like ancient history, man."

"It's a classic."

"Sure," he muttered. "A classic."

"Whatever, man, you're just not cultured."

He scoffed. "That's definitely it."

The other end of the island unfolded into a drop-off, all coquina and shells packed tightly together and built up into a mound that cut off abruptly into nothing. It was the highest point of the island-- of most of the spoils out here honestly-- even though it's small cliff had been eaten away and eroded over time, shrinking and shifting as the island shrank with the waves.

Dropping his backpack, he sat and dangled his legs over the edge, shoes knocking back against the coquina with a scratchy rasp. Warren plopped down beside him, keeping his legs folded and away from the plunge. Not that it was much of a sheer cliff. Only about eight feet down at the most, but enough that it felt like a lot. Compared to the average of three feet below sea level for the rest of the mainland; eight feet felt pretty fucking huge.

The tide lapped at the base of the island, the water hissing and coiling, writhing and alive where it squirmed through the holes bored through the coquina face and back out with a soft crackle. Crabs, tiny and mottled, darted in and around the rocks and he could see finger mullet, their scales flashing as they turned and twisted with the waves.

"You tied up your kayak, right?" Warren asked.

"Naw, but it should be fine. I pulled it up pretty far."

"I'm not sharing if you get stuck out here."

He frowned, shooting Warren his best puppy dog eyes. "You'd leave me out here?"

"Yes."

He chuckled. "Fair."

Seagulls drifted in lazy circles far overhead, the occasional cry working its way down to them as the birds banked with the wind, following the gusts up to where they could catch a glimpse of a meal beneath the water. One wheeled down in a sudden arc, wings folded close to its side as it plummeted, beak first, into the water with a snap and then back out with a spray.

"Man, tough luck..." Warren said. "Hate whenever they miss. Makes me feel kinda bad."

"They're just gonna go do what the rest do and steal some fries at the jetty once they realize it's easier than doing this."

"Yeah, but it's like-- I don't know, man. Just wish he'd get a win."

"You don't even know him!"

"I feel like we have a connection." Warren pointed at where the seagull had gone back to patrolling the waters. "Me and seagull number one thousand and three, we're like this--" He crossed his fingers.

"Shut up," he snorted.

They watched the seagull try again and fail.

Warren started up a running commentary after the third attempt, cupping a hand over his mouth to imitate the slight grain of a sports announcer's microphone as he dramatized the whole thing. When the seagull finally managed to snag a fish Warren cheered, arms thrown up in a touchdown motion that he copied with a grin.

"Hell yeah, dude!" Warren high-fived him.

"Where's all that enthusiasm for when you're at my games?" he asked.

"Come on, dude, you know I always cheer the loudest. You're just too far out on the field to hear me."

"I'm sure that's what it is."

"Whatever, man-- What'd you bring anyway?" Warren grabbed his backpack and began rummaging through it. "Oh shit! Gummy bears, dude! And the good kind, hell yeah!"

"Yeah, grabbed them before I came here. That's why I was late, idiot."

Warren tore open the package. "Crimes forgiven, man. This is worth it."

"Give me that--" He pulled his backpack out of Warren's lap. "I also got some soda, but I guess all you care about is your precious little bears."

"Naw, naw-- Hand that over."

"Rude much?"

"What? You want me to kiss you on the lips for it first, bro?"

He laughed. "Now, that would be the polite thing to do."

Warren puckered his lips at him and then snatched the soda. "Fuck off."

"Not even a little kiss?" he teased.

"You dragged me out to spider-fuck-nowhere, while it's ass fucking hot out and where it smells like rotting fish taint-- Just to watch the fucking sunset, when we could have sat on my roof and done the exact same thing-- You expect a kiss for that?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Bro code."

Warren snorted. "Hand me a bottle opener, dip shit."

He popped open his own bottle and passed it over to Warren, who struggled for a moment before finally getting it with a triumphant 'whoop'. The mixture of saccharine flavored soda and the slight rotting stench of algae, and whatever else the lagoon had to offer, wasn't exactly pleasant, but it wasn't terrible. It was familiar.

It was homely in it's off kilter sort of way.

"So, why'd you bring me out here anyways?" Warren asked.

He sighed and kicked his heel back against the coquina. "I’m moving.”

Warren sucked in sharply and he glanced over at him.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the water below his feet. "Dad got a job in another state and we’re moving in a month.”

"Dude…"

"I didn't know how to tell you. I just--"

"Is that why you decided it'd be a good idea to sneak out and go to that dumb party with me?" Warren asked, frowning.

"I figured it would be one of the last chances I had to do something fun, you know. Here. Before I just-- Leave all this shit forever. I mean, we're moving to fucking Ohio, man. Where the fuck am I gonna find a party on an island out there?"

"Right…"

"And look, fuck my dad--"

"Jake--"

"No, fuck him-- He didn't even--" he huffed. "Things were looking up, man. Varsity lacrosse in sophomore year, that's huge, dude. And I wasn't just the fucking loser kid in the back of class anymore and he just--"

"Works rough here, dude..." Warren cut him off, sighing. "Space programs taking a shit. Whole island's taking a shit, really. Plenty of people left the first time NASA tanked, remember? It's just… it happens, man."

"So, you're just fine with it then?" he asked, brows furrowing. "We're never going-- I'm never going to see you again and you're just okay with that?"

"It's not forever!" Warren said, throwing out his hands. "There's planes, man! It's the twenty first fucking century. We got phones, dude. We'll stay in touch."

He grit his teeth and looked down.

"Jake, bro. C'mon-- Look at me."

He met Warren's eyes.

"It's gonna be okay, dude." Warren said, smile wide, and he could see the little falter at the edges, but he didn't call him on it. "Look--" Warren held up his bottle. "We'll cheers on it."

"Cheers on what?"

"To staying in touch, to meeting up in the future. To staying friends and all that, I don't know."

"To you finally getting a boyfriend?"

"Actually, you know what, I'm not going to miss you at all."

"Come on--" he grinned, nudging Warren with his shoulder. "You'll miss me."

"Yeah," Warren chuckled, looking down with a small smile. "I will..."

His fingers tightened around the glass bottle in his hand, bottom lip threatening to worry between his teeth. "Look, let's do your dumb cheers thing before it gets too sentimental or whatever."

Warren sighed, seeming to shake himself off before raising his soda bottle above his head and towards the slowly setting sun. "To us."

"To us?" He wrinkled his nose. "Isn't that kinda cheesy?"

"Just shut up and do it."

"Fine..." he grumbled with a grin, raising his bottle to clink against Warren's. "To us."

//photo credit// me and my phone c. 2020 //

#writeblr #writing community #creative writing #fiction #prompt fill #prose #writers on tumblr #short story #writing #my writing #original work #sorry for the cursing #miss the spoil islands and the lagoon #Florida

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

cardigan

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence

a/n: this is a limited three part series based on three of my favourite songs from taylor swift’s 2020 life saving albums; cardigan, willow and invisible string. this one is cardigan, hope you enjoy xx

WILLOW

She clutched onto her worn out brown leather bag as she stepped inside the her father’s precinct. There wasn’t much that looked different from when she was a little girl, the tables still stood on the same messy layout which made no sense, the officers still didn’t look up whenever someone came in and the whole room smelled like stale coffee and burnt bread. The only difference was that the once endless room now felt small, nauseating, confining, a place where she didn’t want to be.

- Y/N. - her father’s voice rang through the small room, making her look up to where he was standing. Captain William, or dad if she was lucky enough to call him as such, was an intimidating presence even after all these years yet after her mother’s death it was him who was left of her family. - Come in.

Her shoes felt heavy as she stepped inside his office, two more officers standing inside as she walked with her father. He closed the door, nodding his head which was a tell tale for everyone to sit down. She sat at the end of the dark green couch, away from the other two officers who were looking her up and down as if she were a prey.

- I told you she would be perfect. Inconspicuous, he wouldn’t even think she’s undercover.

- She’s not the type of woman Barnes go for.

- She doesn’t need to be the type of woman he goes for, she needs to be the one who works in his bar and listens to their plans.

Her father had told her about James Barnes. They had been trying to get him in for minor offences yet nothing seemed to pan out. The force knew they could never apprehend him for the crimes he knew he had committed but if they could get him in for something small: weapon charge, drug charge, something. For that to happen they needed someone to be in their circle and unluckily for them, Barnes and his men knew everyone who worked in the force but they didn’t know her. In return for her working in his bar, the force would pay her tuition fees as well as any books she needed.

“It won’t be hard” was what her father had told her but as they dropped her at the bar she couldn’t help but freeze at the door. They were expecting her, she had gotten the job yet she couldn’t find herself walking inside. In any other situation she would’ve rushed past it, it wasn’t the place she would like to be in. Her hand grasped the bar of the door, pushing it open. The nightclub looked vastly desert with squeaky clean floors and bright lighting which showed the dark aesthetic of every single owned Barnes club in town. She didn’t know the man but she knew his style, dark, sleek, leather, sensual even, enough to make people feel sexual whenever they walked into his club. Yet, in broad daylight it was merely an abandoned establishment with one a table with a few hangover men still nursing a bottle of beer each, waiting for 7 PM for the club to come back to life.

She stood out like a sore thumb, dressed in brown tones. A loose gingham black dress over a brown turtle neck covered and low black Mary Janes. Her eyes roamed the room, looking for someone to speak to but someone found her first. A tall man, probably pushing fifty, toothpick hanging from his lips and dirty rag on his left hand. She felt short, cowering under the gaze of the man.

- You're the new girl, or what? - he questioned, thick Brooklyn accent yet Y/N didn’t dare reply, instead nodding at him. - Do you have a name?

- Y/N.

- Y/N, that’s nice. I’m Bobby, I’m the bar supervisor. You wanna talk to anyone? You talk only to me and you’ll do well.

She nodded her head quickly, almost like a bobble head figure, following him behind to bar. Now Y/N knew about bars or at least what they did in them, she just wasn’t expecting to see the huge amount of spirits, wines, and beers behind her. She was almost sure if someone robbed the club, they’d be better off with the booze than the money in the cash register. The man, Bobby, ran through the basics, showing here with the cleaning products were, where some more complicated cocktail mixtures were written, how the washing machine worked and how crucial it was to constantly collect glasses from the bar and put them in there. She held a small reporter notepad, pen scribbling down messy wiggles which she wouldn’t be able to understand later on but it was still worth it. She could memorise it, she was a university student after all hence her memory for cocktails shouldn’t be hard. Everything was so polished, meticulously placed, almost too organised for a bar; the bottles placed onto glass shelves which light from under, placed almost the same measure apart in a sea of expensive beverages.

- Don’t serve any drinks to people who haven’t presented a payment form. If the boss comes in, serve him whiskey on the rocks. Glenlivet, no other brands.

- I’ve never seen the boss.

- You’ll know.

She was left there watching as more staff came in, the sun going down at the same time. “Just breathe, Y/N” she remembered her father’s words, she could do it, she could do it. How hard could it possible be to be a bartender? Just breathe, Y/N. She can do it, she can help his father, she can do this and then no longer have to worry about how many hours she would have to do at that little mean shop which had taken more of her than she gave them. She could be a regular university student, she just needed to breathe.

The purple, blue lights started to light the sunlight coloured bar as people started to queue up outside for a chance to get inside one of the most famous bars in town. She could faintly remember hearing her friends talking about how exclusive it was but as she looked out the window and at the queue she could finally understand it. As the doors opened and people started flocking in, suddenly she was serving drinks left and write, vodka and other shoots drenching her dress and apron as she messily tried to serve everyone at the bar screaming at her to hurry up. She kept running around like a crazy person, dragging bottles and bottles and pouring drinks which kept overfilling and dropping onto the floor. People kept yelling at her “hey sugar, how long does it take you to bring me some vodka?” but one man who was sitting still, gaze glued onto her while a cigarette hanged from the middle of his lips. She cowered under his gaze returning to hand a tray of jello shots to some girls.

She continued to work until the last person was out of the bar but the man remained calmly leaned against the bar, the flame of his cigarette dying down. She tried to avoid him, pretending to clean the spot over and over again but the man merely scoffed, rubbing the butt of the cigarette against the ash tray.

- You’re terrible. - he spoke out, voice raspy. - Who hired you?

- That’s nothing to do with you. - Y/N turned around to place back the bottles onto the shelves.

- Are you the owner?

- No. - she placed the bottles on the shelf, hands shaking.

- Then it is something to do with me. - the air seemed to be punched out of her lungs, as her grip tightened around the neck of the bottle she was holding. She refused to turn around and look at him, understanding what it implied. Instead she just looked at herself in the glass wall. Just breathe, Y/N. - Can I get a ...

- Glenlivet. - she rose herself on her tippy toes, interrupting him mid sentence. Grabbing from ice from under the bar, she added it to the glass, topping it with the expensive whiskey before placing it under a black square napkin. She continued to wipe down the counter until Bobby came back from the storage unit with more alcohol.

- You can go now, Y/N. I’ll see you at 7. - Bobby dismissed her and almost like thunder, she bolted off, not even stopping and allowing him to question why their boss was sitting at the bar.

Clutching her bag against her chest she started walking up to campus. She had done it, or at least managed to do something yet get no information her father wanted. That is unless her father wanted to know James Barnes’ drink of choice which she was pretty sure he didn’t want to know. Reaching her flat, she turned the key around, opening the door to see her friend Wanda waiting in the couch.

- You’re alive. - she mocked, turning the TV on. - Once again, tell me why you said yes to working in a mob bar ...

- It’s not a mob bar, Wanda.

- It is a bar owned by a mob boss who has been blamed on several murders. It is a mob bar.

- I’m just a bartender, nothing is gonna happen.

- Can you tell me again why you’re doing this? Your father is the reason why you were raised by John Hughes’ movies.

- Okay, Wanda, you made your point. - Y/N took her jacket off, hanging it onto one of the hooks in the door.

- I’m buying you pepper spray.

- Pepper spray is illegal, Wan.

- So is the bar you’re working.

- Okay. I’ll be careful, don’t worry. I’ll go to sleep now.

Wanda continued to ramble about her working where she was but there was really nothing she could do other than continue. All she had to do was breathe and listen and the department would pay for her tuition for the rest of her degree. Small price to pay for a much bigger price.

As another day started, the routine started once again with her awaking up and running into class with Wanda complained about her brother followed by spending the rest of her free time until her shift began. Walking back to the bar she was telling herself once more that she would be just fine and that Wanda slipping a knife inside her bag was only her overreacting. Stepping inside the same building, Bobby was setting some shoot glasses on the counter.

- Y/N. - he acknowledged her. - Glad to see you’re still here.

- Wouldn’t be anywhere else. - she placed her bag and jacket under the bar and tied her apron around her waist. - Busy day?

- Fridays are the busiest. All the university kids. Let me know if you need a hand.

- I’m sure I’ll be okay.

Once again, wrong. She was not okay and as everyone found themselves flocking to the bar she was already running around like a crazy person, holding two bottles on each hand as people. The lights were blinding, shining on her as she served and slide more drinks onto the bar counter and to the waitresses who’d give her snide remarks whenever she took too long. Her hands were numb from the ice already yet her face was warm from moving side to side. At least, Mr. Barnes wasn’t around and that was already something she could be thankful for. She knew she had to eventually speak to him if she wanted to ever hear anything or maybe she wouldn’t have; she was good at being invisible, maybe she could just overhear something without having to ever speak with him.

- Hey, sugar, where’s my drink? - a sluggish voice came from the bar and Y/N ignored it. Bobby told her, if anyone sounds or looks drunk to cut them off that “Mr. Barnes doesn’t need drunk people being roudy in his bar”. She continued to serve the group of girls celebrating passing an exam until the man moved over to them. - Hey, I asked where is my drink?

- Sorry, you’re cut off. - she shrugged, grabbing some glass onto a plastic bucket so Bobby could put them in the washing machine.

- What the fuck? C’mon give me my drink.

- No. - Y/N just ignored it, turning around to put the bottles back onto the shelves.

- Well then be useful and show me your tits. - the man scoffed as if it was the best joke in the world. Y/N turned around, speechless at what he had said before grabbing an half empty drink from the bar and throwing it at him which surprised the man just as much. - You bitch!

- What’s the problem here? - fuck. Of course he had to show up. Mr. Barnes made his way towards them, holding that same powerful yet frightening stance as the strobing lights painted his face. His eyes were on her, waiting for her to say something but Y/N was mostly frozen. That was it, she was about to get shot, or worse, lose a finger or a leg or an arm. Oh god, how could she take exams without an arm?

- Your bartender isn’t serving me. - he pointed at her as if he were a 5 year old.

- Really? - Barnes stood slightly behind him and all she could see in a glimpse second was his metal arm, reflecting the strobing lights, come up to the nape of the man’s neck before he slammed his face against the glass topping of the bar counter. Y/N was startled by this, jumping back against the wall of drinks. - Get the fuck out of my bar.

The man ran off, bloody nose, like a scared wounded animal leaving Y/N only to stare at him. Her mind rushed miles an hour, wondering if he had done that to someone what he would do to her. She should’ve taken the pepper spray from Wanda.

- Get back to work. - he left her with that, turning around and getting lost in the sea of people dancing.

- Hey ... - Bobby touched her arm, waking her from her own mind. She looked at her hands; good she still had both hands. - Go take a break, wash the glasses, I’ll do the bartending for a while.

- I’m fine, Bobby.

- I know. I just want you to go do something else. - Y/N nodded, not wanting to disobey anyone yet she couldn’t help but be glad she would be in the back where the big washing machine was for most of the pint glasses and other oddly shaped cups. After all, Mr. Barnes wouldn’t be hanging in the kitchen.

She pushed her hair away from her face and put on the big pink gloves and started to wash the glasses and plates from some small appetisers they sold until closing time started to near. Once the bar was cut off, she joined Bobby to clean the always messy bar and make it look as precise as it looked every single day. Another day survived, no limbs lost.

- That was a good one, Y/N. See you tomorrow. - Bobby bid her farewell as he exited through the door. Y/N stayed behind, moping the floor behind the mar which was mostly a pool of mixed drinks that she always somehow managed to overfill and drop onto the floor on her way to serve them. As she continued to mop, the person who she didn’t want to see sat at the bar and without much thinking, she served him his drink of choice.

- I ... hm ... I have to go, I have to walk home and my flatmate is waiting for me.

- You’re walking home with your flatmate?

- No, she’s waiting for me at the flat. - Y/N grabbed her cardigan, putting it on which immediately brought her a nostalgic warmth.

- I’ll drive you.

- Oh .. no, Mr. Barnes. It is not necessary, I’ve walked home before, I know the way.

- And I know the type of men who walk around my bar. - he downed the whiskey as if it were water. - Come on.

Oh god, I’m going to sleep with the fishes. He’s gonna kill me in his car. Y/N thought to herself as she followed him to the back of the bar where he had parked his car. Of course it was a good car, a new model black Audi with sleek matte black leathered seats which looked more expensive than everything together at the bar. She wondered how much money he made. Her father hadn’t told her much about him and all she knew was merely gossip. He opened the door for her which she took as a sign to get inside the car. Once in, she noticed how awfully warm it was, he probably had the heating on so she took off her cardigan, shoving it in front of her feet as he entered the car.

- Where am I dropping you?

- The student campus, south building

- You’re a student? - he asked as the motor roared, signalling the start of the car. - Why you working here then?

- It pays well. My mother paid for my first years but I still have my third one and a possible masters.

- Why not ask mum for the rest of the money then?

- Well she’s dead. - she said, not taking the eyes off the road. - Her inheritance lasted as long as it could but tuition is expensive.

- I’m sorry. - he tried to sneak a look at her but gave up, instead keeping his eyes on the road. - You’re a terrible bartender.

- You’ve said that one time already, I’ve heard it. If I’m so terrible why don’t you fire me?

- Bobby likes you. Says you’re a quick learner. Yet again, he likes every single wide eyed Disney Princess girl who works behind the bar. I give you a month or two before you quit or get knocked up.

- I’m not gonna quit and I’m not gonna get knocked up either.

- Got a boyfriend?

- No.

- Husband? Friends with benefits?

- I don’t have the time so if you want to get rid of me you’ll have to fire me.

- I don’t fire people. - she saw her building come closer and closer from the car window. - Is it that one?

- Yes. - she grabbed her bag, eager to leave the car before anything could happen.

- Hey, you got a black dress? - he asked as she exited the car and she nodded yes. - Good, bring it to work tomorrow.

She mumbled an okay as the car drove away. God, she was alive. Good. All she wanted now was to return to her home and in a few minutes she was back in her living room where Wanda and her twin brother Pietro were waiting for her. Of course waiting meant watching Shark Tank and discussing how bad all the inventions were.

- How was work in hell? - Wanda didn’t even look at her, eyes glued to the TV while she stuffed popcorn in her mouth.

- I didn’t need to use the knife you snuck into my bag, thank you.

- You snuck a knife onto her back? - Pietro looked dumbfound at his sister who immediately snapped back with a response.

- She’s working for James Barnes, she needs to carry a knife block and she’s lucky I only put a steak knife. - Wanda turned around in the couch. - Hey where’s your cardigan? I swear you left with it.

- Shit. - Y/N looked around. - Fuck, I’ve left it in his car.

- Whose car?

- Mr. Barnes’. He gave me a ride and I took my cardigan off because the car was so warm. Fuck. I’ll never see it again.

- Why were you in his car, are you crazy? - now Wanda was interested. Clearly her best friend’s lack of judgment was more interesting than the poor soul trying to pitch a tuna can opener shaped like a tuna to a bunch of executives.

- He gave me a ride ... oh and do you have a black dress?

- I do. - Pietro said gaining an odd look from the two girls. - What? Girls love me and I love them. Stuff get’s left behind. What can I say?

- You’re disgusting. - Wanda rolled her eyes.

taglist: @lookiamtrying @mariamermaid @sebastianstansqueen @unmagically

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky/reader #bucky/you #bucky/y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #mob boss!bucky #mob!bucky

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kcarreras · 3 years

Text

Best Friends & Bad Ideas

Fandom: Outer Banks Pairing: JJ Maybank and Kiara Carrera Summary: Set about a week after the pogues arrive on the island, with flashbacks to a special childhood memory, a game of truth or dare, an almost kiss and a stick and poke tattoo…

They had only been on the island for about a week, but the Pogues had quickly fallen into a semi-normal routine.

Each morning, they’d wake up under the cover of their make-shift shelter, which JJ was very proud of - despite the holes in the roof and it’s tendency to blow over completely whenever the wind picked up.

The boys would usually get up first and head further inland from the beach to scavenge around for some fruit for breakfast, while the girls went for a dip in the ocean to clean up and cool off.

On this particular day, they were waist deep in the water in just their underwear, their clothes discarded in messy piles across the sandy shore, when Kie let out a shriek and started splashing her way back to land.

“Oh my god! Shit! What was that?!” she squealed, jumping around from foot to foot, now only ankle deep in the surf.

“Oh my god, Kie! What is it?!” Sarah called, rushing up to the shore behind her, Cleo close behind.

“Girl, what?!” Cleo chimed in when Kie didn’t answer, her back now facing Sarah with her knife drawn, eyes darting across the water around them.

“Something touched me! I felt it - on my back - can you check?” Kie said to Sarah, spinning around until her back was to the blonde.

“It was probably just a fish, no big deal,” Cleo said, still pacing around in the water, one hand splashing in front of her as she moved, the other gripping her blade readily in case anything appeared.

“Well it didn’t feel like just a fish,” Kie pouted, a little embarrassed by her own outburst. She had spent her whole life in the water and had encountered all sorts, so she wasn’t easily frightened or grossed out - she guessed her nerves were just still a little on edge from everything.

“Coast is clear, I don’t see nothing,” Cleo assured them, joining them in the shallower water and tossing the knife to land on top of her clothes.

Sarah’s hands were still skimming along Kie’s back, pushing her long, dark hair over her shoulder for a clearer view as she looked for any sign of the mystery sea creature on her friends skin.

“I think you’re good, I don’t see anyth-, wait a minute… Kiara Carrera! What the hell is that?” Sarah exclaimed excitedly, and Kie burled around in circles as if it would help her see her own back.

“What? What is it? Sarah! Get it off!” Kie squealed, her hands swiping at her own body in an attempt to get rid of whatever was apparently there.

“Is that… a tattoo?” Cleo asked from behind Sarah, pushing up on her tiptoes to see over Sarah’s shoulder.

“Shit,” Kie breathed, realisation washing over her as she let her head fall back in relief.

“What is it supposed to be? Is it a-” Sarah began, tilting her head, squinting her eyes and running her finger tips over the messy splotch of black and blue ink high on Kie’s ribcage, most of it concealed under the material of her bikini top - which is probably why Sarah had never noticed it before.

“Dolphin..?” Cleo suggested.

“Yes, now if you don’t mind…” Kie replied, swatting Sarah’s hand away.

“So where’d you get it?” Sarah asked as the three of them made their way out of the surf and onto the dry sand.

Kie stopped to pull her hair over her shoulder and wring the water out before asking, “What?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “The tattoo, obviously. Where’d you get it? I know for a fact there’s no one on the south side dealing out tattoos to underagers.”

“And how would you know what happens on the south side, Princess?” Kie responded teasingly with a smile, and Sarah shoved her gently as she passed her on her way to her pile of clothes, knocking Kie slightly off balance.

“Because I’ve been trying to get one since I was 15, and I couldn’t exactly ask anyone on my side of the island. Not without my dad -” ‘finding out’, she had been going to say, but she caught herself. “So where’d you get it?”

“If you must know, JJ gave it to me,” Kie replied, trying to sound nonchalant as she stepped back into her green trousers, fastening them at her waist and rolling them up around her ankles.

“Hmm,” Cleo hummed in approval. “Pretty boy’s got some skills, huh?” she said with a smile and a raise of her eyebrows in Kie’s direction.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah interjected, holding a hand up to Kie with a disbelieving shake of her head. “You’re telling me that you let JJ Maybank within 5 feet of you with a tattoo gun?” She was trying to sound outraged, but it came out more amused.

“No, actually. He doesn’t have a tattoo gun, he did it with a needle. That’s why the line work is so messy and the colour is all over the place.” Kie corrected, and she found herself running her fingers across it, a sense of affection filling her chest at the memory. She lifted her gaze from it after a few seconds to meet Sarah’s questioning look.

“Ok, well, that and he was high off his ass,” Kie said, and all three girls laughed.

“No shit,” Cleo said, sounding impressed as she shimmied back into her trousers.

“You must have been pretty wasted too, to agree to that,” Sarah continued to question, pulling on her trousers and dropping down to sit cross legged in the sand. Cleo and Kie followed suit a few seconds later, forming a little triangle.

“It was some time at the start of last year. I was just back from my stint at the Kook Academy,” Kie began, and Sarah gave her a soft yet sad smile at the reference to their time together. “Big John hadn’t been missing that long, and John B was still pretty out of it. JJ and I had gone over to the Chateau to check in on him, but he’d been drinking like, all day, so he was already wasted by the time we got there. He lasted maybe an hour before he passed out, but we didn’t wanna leave him. So JJ put him to bed, and then we went and hung out on the hammock.”

Sarah pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them with a captivated look on her face. “The hammock, huh?” she asked coyly, but Cleo interrupted before Kie could respond.

“Hold up, who is this ‘Big John’?” she asked, looking back and forth between Sarah and Kie, confused.

“John B’s dad. It’s kind of a long story,” Kie replied.

“Shit, we really need to catch you up,” Sarah said, knocking her shoulder into Cleo’s affectionately.

“Anyway,” Kie continued. “We were drinking beer, and of course JJ had a stash, and we just decided to light up. We figured we’d pass the time by playing a game of truth or dare, which is never a good idea when JJ’s high, and the next thing I know he’s tattooing a dolphin on my ribs,” Kie finished with a shrug.

“That’s a pretty extreme dare for a chill night at the chateau,” Sarah commented, sensing there was more to the story than Kie was letting on.

“Well… that wasn’t exactly the dare. It was a forfeit for not completing a dare,” Kie clarified and Sarah’s interest peaked again.

“So what was the dare?” Cleo asked, clearly as invested in the story as Sarah, both leaning forward into Kie, who was starting to look a little flushed.

“It doesn’t matter, it was stupid.” Kie said, with a shake of her head as she tried to avert her gaze.

“Ki-eee,” Sarah sing-songed, flicking some sand at her. “Full disclosure, just us girls.”

Sarah stretched her arm out into the middle of the little triangle they had formed, her pinky extended. She looked to Cleo, gesturing for her to copy, which she did, then she looked at Kie pleadingly.

“Kie, we are literally stranded on a deserted island with nothing to do, and this might be the most interesting thing I’ve heard in days. C’mon,” Sarah pleaded.

Kie sighed, lifting her arm and the three of them linked pinkies awkwardly, shaking them with a laugh.

“Fine,” Kie sighed, and Sarah clapped - silently but excitedly.

“He dared me to kiss him,” Kie practically mumbled, her head falling forwards into her hands.

“I knew it!” Sarah screamed, jumping up to her feet.

Kie shot her a glare that should have struck her down dead. “That’s great, Sarah, really. Way to be subtle,” Kie reprimanded, reaching up to grab Sarah’s wrist and pulling her back down onto the sand with a thud. Her eyes darted around for any sign of the boys, but they seemed to be in the clear.

“Sorry!” Sarah apologised, still too loudly and Kie emphasised the glare, and Sarah clamped her hand over her mouth, before she spoke again in a lower tone. “Sorry, it’s just - I knew it. I knew he liked you like that.”

“Okay, first of all, no he doesn’t. Second of all, no he doesn’t.” Kie protested.

“Come on, Kiara. You’re not blind, and neither are the rest of us. Cleo, back me up here.” Sarah said, turning to Cleo.

“For sure. Pretty boy’s got it bad for you, girl.” Cleo confirmed.

Kie felt her heart quicken, a warmth rising in her cheeks and an unsettling feeling low in her stomach.

“This is so stupid. I’m not having this conversation,” Kie said after a few seconds, suddenly looking and sounding annoyed. She got to her feet, dusting the sand off and started to walk away from them.

“Kie, come on! It’s not a big deal!” Sarah called, getting to her feet.

“We’re gonna have to talk about it eventually, it might as well be now!” Sarah tried again, and Kie stilled, her back still facing the two other girls.

She let out a huff of air, cursing under her breath as she ran a hand through her hair and then turned around to face them.

“Look, there’s nothing to talk about. It was a long time ago. He was high, I was high, and it was dumb. It didn’t mean anything, okay?”

“So why didn’t you do it?” Sarah asked.

“What?” Kie asked, exasperated with a throw of her hands.

“If it was so meaningless, why didn’t you just kiss him?” Sarah pushed.

“Are you on crack, or have you just been sitting in the sun too long?” Kie scolded. “He’s one of my best friends,”

“It’s a simple question.” Sarah persisted.

“And it’s a simple answer. I didn’t want to, okay?” Kie all but snapped.

“Didn’t want to kiss him, like… at all? Or didn’t want to kiss him as part of a dare, when you were both high?”

Kie spluttered incoherently for a second.

“Both,” she finally settled on, hoping it was ambiguous enough.

“Bullshit.” Sarah stated, crossing her arms across her chest.

Cleo took a step back, looking on, fascinated and kind of amused by the whole thing, blade swinging absentmindedly from her fingertips as her eyes shifted from girl to girl as they spoke.

“Excuse me?” Kie countered.

“I said that’s bullshit, Kie. Let’s look at the facts objectively. JJ’s hot,” Sarah began, and both girls’ heads spun to shoot her a surprised look.

“I said objectively, relax.” Sarah clarified with a roll of her eyes, and Cleo nodded in agreement after a quick second of contemplation, which surprisingly to Kie caused a little flutter of jealousy in the pit of her stomach.

“As I was saying, you’re both… attractive people” Sarah carried on, choosing her words more carefully, “and you’ve been best friends forever. You drink together, get high together - you sleep on the pullout at the chateau together. He’s always checking you out, you’re always defending him - and don’t get me started on how you two are always pairing off for every little mission or adventure.”

Kie shrugged, feigning ignorance as to what Sarah’s point was.

“So?” Kie asked, mostly to fill the silence that crept in as Sarah looked at her expectantly.

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve never once thought about kissing him? That idea has never crossed your mind? Ever?” Sarah questioned, crossing her arms dramatically as if to emphasise her point, and Kie felt as though all the blood in her body had rushed to her head.

“No,” was all she could think to counter with, and it sounded so feeble coming out of her mouth that she didn’t even believe herself.

“I don’t believe you,” Sarah said, unsurprisingly.

“Look, it’s not as simple as ‘who wants to kiss who’, okay? There are rules - no pogue on pogue macking, for starters.”

“Okay, except no one has ever listened to that rule, ever.” Sarah replied.

“You know what, Sarah-” Kie began, a little irritated that her friend wouldn’t just let it go, but she was interrupted by the sound of the boys’ laughter as they emerged from the treeline further along the beach.

John B spotted them first, and triumphantly held up a handful of what looked like mangos into the air.

“You guys comin’ or what?” JJ called to them from behind John B, gesturing with his head for them to follow them back along to the camp.

“We are so not done talking about this,” Sarah whispered to Kie as she stepped past her and headed along the beach towards the boys. Cleo followed, winking at Kie with a knowing smile as she passed her.

Kie stood where she was for a second, her mind racing before she was brought back by his voice.

“Yo, Kie! You better get your ass over here or I’m gonna take your share,” he called to her jokingly, and she composed herself quickly before turning and heading towards him.

“You don’t even like mango, dumbass,” she laughed as she approached him and he tossed one in her direction, which she caught with ease, and he shot her an impressed look. “They make your throat itch.”

“Hey, I’m so hungry out here I’d eat you if I had too, Carrera,” he said jokingly, and she dug him in the ribs as they walked side by side up the beach behind the others.

“How the tables have turned, Maybank. A couple days ago you were thanking me for literally saving your life, and now you’re threatening to cook me over a campfire?”

“I’m just messin’. Besides, there’s not enough meat on your bones, I’d definitely start with John B first,” he said, shooting her a quick grin and she laughed as John B turned and launched a mango at JJ, hitting him right in the gut.

“I heard that, jackass!” John B hollered.

“Oh, you’ve done it now, bro,” JJ warned with a laugh, taking off up the beach after John B who was running as JJ lobbed fruit at him. Kie heard Pope mutter an exasperated “Here we go again,” somewhere in the background as she smiled after them.

***

As Kie lay on her side next to JJ that night under the shelter, eyes wandering across his features in the dark, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to the night he’d given her that stupid tattoo…

They had been lying head to toe in the hammock as it swung softly side to side, passing a joint back and forth, a beer each in their free hand. It was quiet out, just the gentle hum and buzz of cicadas and skeeters around them in the distance.

“My turn,” JJ proclaimed, taking the joint from her outstretched hand and drawing on it until his lungs burned pleasantly.

“Oh god,” Kie groaned, throwing her forearm across her eyes dramatically in preparation for whatever was about to come of his mouth.

“Hey, this was your bright idea,” he reminded her and she groaned, leaning forward to take the joint back from him.

“Yeah? Well clearly I forgot who I was playing with. I blame the weed and the beer,” she sighed, taking the final draw. Her eyes were closed as she held the hit, before slowly releasing the smoke and stubbing the rest out against the tree behind her. She let it drop to the ground, then poured some beer on it to make sure it was out, and JJ objected with a gentle kick of his foot into her side at the waste of good beer.

“What? I don’t wanna be responsible for a wildfire wiping out the whole of the south side. This is a protected habitat, y’know.” Kie defended, nudging him back.

He shrugged, “Fair enough. Now stop deflecting,” he said, and Kie raised a brow, impressed with his word choice. JJ smiled, winking at her in the dark, happy that he’d managed to impress her by a) knowing the word in the first place, and b) using it correctly in a sentence.

“My turn,” he repeated, and Kie sighed, gesturing with her hand for him to continue. He grinned wide and bright, eyes glassy from the weed, lips rosy from the beer. He sat up, and as he shifted on the hammock, Kie’s legs rearranged themselves until they rested across his lap.

“Hmm, let me think about this one,” he hummed, and Kie rested her head back against the hammock as his fingers began to drum gently across the bare skin of her leg as he concentrated.

She wasn’t sure if it was her buzz or his touch or - most likely - a combination of both, but her skin prickled with goosebumps as his fingers grazed her thigh, and he looked down at her.

“Are you cold?” he asked, misinterpreting her body’s reaction, but she went along with it, crossing her arms and rubbing her hands up and down them.

“Kinda,” she replied, and then it occurred to her that it was nearly 1am and she was sitting outside, bare foot, in a pair of denim shorts and a bikini top. JJ was wearing his usual dark tank, but with a well-worn plaid shirt hanging open over it. He tugged the shirt off, in a rather uncoordinated yet typical JJ fashion, and tossed it at her so it landed on her head, partially covering her face.

She laughed, sitting up as she pulled it off her head. She pulled her legs back to cross them in front of her, suddenly missing the contact of his skin on hers, as she put the shirt on. It was far too big for her petite frame, and one shoulder kept slipping down, but it was warm from his body heat and it smelt like him, so she pulled it closer to her and didn’t complain.

“Thanks, I think,” she said sarcastically, desperately trying to avoid her gaze landing on his strong-looking looking shoulders and arms which had previously been concealed by the shirt.

“Anything for you, Kie,” he said with a wink, but it sounded more sincere than he probably intended.

“Well in that case,” she drawled, leaning forward, and his expression shifted to something unreadable for second, until she reached up and swiped his red cap from his head and put it on with a laugh.

“Really? My favourite cap?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“You said, anything, right?” she teased, knowing how much he loved that stupid cap.

“I guess I better choose my words more carefully next time,” he replied, but he made no move to take it back. He just smiled at her affectionately, the sight of her in his clothes causing an all-too familiar swelling in his chest.

“Just, tilt it up a bit,” he said, pausing briefly before adding, “I can’t see your face.”

Kie felt her heart clench a little.

She did as he asked, tilting the cap back until he smiled wide and said, “Much better,”

She felt her cheeks begin to flush under the intensity of his gaze, and she cleared her throat softly before speaking.

“Right, c’mon, Jay. We don’t have all night. What’s my dare?” she asked, leaning over to place his cap back on his head backwards.

He sat up straighter, adjusting the cap, and they were practically face to face in the middle of the hammock, very little space between them. Her legs that were still crossed in front of her were pressing against the length of his leg bent in front of him, as he sat with the other hanging off the side of the hammock, his boot skimming the grass beneath.

Her head was buzzing from the proximity and she took a swig of her beer as an excuse to divert her gaze from his, and also to wet her mouth which now felt dry with anticipation.

She gulped it down, finishing the can and tossing it into the garbage bag beside the tree as she licked her lips, causing JJ’s eyes to drop to her mouth.

His hands found hers, which were resting in her lap but brushing his leg, and he began fidgeting with her bracelets. He noticed one, a thinly woven aqua-coloured bracelet tied loosely around her wrist, a small silver dolphin charm dangling from it, and he smiled.

“You kept this?” he asked, smiling and lifting his eyes from her wrist to her eyes, which were dark and glassy and kinda blown.

“Of course I did,” she replied, “I wanted a reminder of the day I beat you at everything.” Kie’s face broke into a wide, teasing smile and he scoffed, sitting back.

“Hey, not everything!” he protested, and Kie laughed.

****

One Summer, when they were 11 or 12, a travelling fairground came to Kildare and, of course, the Pogues had been first in line. They rode dodgems, shot hoops, messed around on the dance machines and sprayed targets with water guns to win prizes. JJ and Kie had always been the most competitive, even as kids, and so they had turned it into a tournament of sorts - no real prize, except eternal bragging rights. John B and Pope were quite happy just to play for fun. Kie had beaten JJ at every single game, winning prizes left and right and by the end of the day, she had streams of tokens and multiple oversized stuffed animals that they boys were helping her carry.

As they were leaving, JJ spotted a stall they hadn’t played yet, and dragged Kie over, challenging her to one last game. This time, he won - or rather, Kie let him win, but she’d never admit it - and she swore she had never seen him so excited as he jumped around on the spot, fists shooting up into the air as he hollered over to John B and Pope to inform them of his victory.

Despite her competitive streak, Kie couldn’t stop herself from letting him have the win - even as a kid she’d noticed how he didn’t smile or laugh quite as often as the others around them, so when he did it made her heart swell a little.

They ran off together to the counter to claim his prize and as they stood in line, Kie peered up at the counter containing the prizes. Her eyes landed on a bracelet, colourful and delicate with a tiny dolphin charm - at the time her favourite animal. She didn’t say anything, but JJ noticed her looking.

“What are you gonna get?” she asked excitedly, tugging on his sleeve and pointing out loads of things she thought he’d like.

He shrugged, eyes scanning the counter and she left him to it, wandering off nearby to watch the man at the food truck wrap up a massive swirl of bright pink candy floss.

A few minutes later, she heard JJ call her name and she went running after him.

“What’d you get?” she asked excitedly as she caught up to him, and he told her to close her eyes and put out her hand. She seemed confused, but complied anyway, and soon she felt something tie around her wrist. She heard him let out a deep breath as he stepped back from her, and she peeked an eye open, looking down to see the bracelet hanging around her wrist.

Her gaze shot up to him, smile wide and eyes bright, and without giving it a second thought, she stepped forward, pushing up onto her toes and kissing him on the cheek. He blushed a little, dropping his head and burying his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks, Jay. I love it,” she said, playing with it around her wrist and he nodded before they headed back to John B and Pope.

****

“I’m sorry, you’re right. You did win one,” she teased, waving her wrist in his direction, the charm tinkling softly against the others on her wrist.

“I can’t believe you still have that piece of crap,” he laughed, and she pulled her wrist back harshly.

“Hey! This ‘piece of crap’ happens to be one of my most prized possessions,” Kie said, twiddling with it.

“Why?” he asked, seemingly bewildered as he chugged the last of his can and lobbed it towards the garbage bag, just missing it.

“Because…” she began, and then realised she had to think carefully about her answer, the beer and weed making her a little too loose-lipped and uninhibited.

“You were just really sweet to me that day, and it’s a nice reminder.” Kie replied, but it still sounded a little heavier than she’d have liked, so she added: “Y’know, for days when you’re a real pain in my ass and I question why we’re still friends.”

“Ha ha,” he fake-laughed with a roll of his eyes. “I just don’t remember ever noticing it before, that’s all.”

“I don’t wear it all the time, in case I lose it in the water or it gets ruined or whatever. But I felt like wearing it today.” Kie said with a shrug, and JJ nodded, an endearing look on his face.

“Plus, it’s a cute colour. Anyway, can we get back to this dare? I wanna get it over with,” Kie said, changing the subject.

Straight away JJ said, “I dare you to kiss me,” and Kie laughed, high and short, in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” she began, shaking her head as if she had water in her ears. “That sounded a lot like you just dared me to kiss you.”

“So what if I did?” he said, his eyes glassy and intense and his pupils blown. His hands were still tangled with hers in her lap, their faces close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her skin as he spoke. They both knew he’d never be forward enough to come out and say that when he was sober - clearly the mix of the weed and the booze had instilled a increased level of confidence in him.

Kie decided to play at him at his own game, a similar feeling of dangerous confidence simmering in her chest.

“You don’t think I’ll do it?” she asked, barely above a whisper, eyes locked on his.

“Oh, I know you won’t,” JJ replied, mirroring her tone, a smile gracing his eyes as well as his lips.

Her gaze went from his eyes to his mouth and her breath caught in her throat.

She found herself leaning into him subconsciously as her mind wondered what it would be like to kiss him - to do the one thing they hadn’t already done together.

Her hands found his forearms, which were resting on her thighs. She slid her hands up over the length of his strong arms, a nervous but excited pit building in stomach, and onto his shoulders. His hands grazed up her thighs gently to settle on her hips, taking hold and pulling her close as she used her grip on his shoulders to do the same. JJ’s head fell forward, resting his forehead against hers, hands travelling under his shirt she was wearing and onto the warm, bare skin of her back.

Her mouth was hovering over his now, her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes fell closed. Her fists knotted in the material of his tank, pulling herself up onto her knees and placing one either side of his hips. She felt him breathe in sharply against her mouth, and her head was spinning, her insides fluttering with an overwhelming sense of need. She felt him adjust the angle of his face against hers, his faint stubble scratching pleasantly against her skin, lips barely brushing as his fingers pressed into her waist.

But just as she was sure their lips were about to meet, she pulled back slightly, placing a finger over his lips, foreheads still touching.

“Forfeit,” she said.

It took a moment for JJ’s eyes to open, and she sat back, trying to catch her breath as a look of confusion, then surprise passed across JJ’s features. He let out a breathy chuckle, leaning back in the hammock to rest his head against it as he ran a hand through his dishevelled blonde hair, eyes closed briefly.

“I knew it,” he said, staring her down with an amused smile. “I knew you didn’t have it in you, Kie.”

“Don’t be an ass, Jay. If I hadn’t stopped it, you would have.” Kie replied, playfully kicking at him. “It was a dumb idea. We’re high as shit and we would have regretted it tomorrow.”

“I think you’re giving me entirely too much credit here.” JJ said with a humourless chuckle. “I wasn’t about to stop anything that was goin’ on there.”

Kie rolled her eyes, a flutter returning to her stomach.

“But you’re right,” he said with a defeated sigh, dragging his hands down his face until they came to rest on his chest. “It would’ve been fun while it lasted though.”

“JJ,” Kie reprimanded, kicking at him again, a little harder this time.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” he surrendered, swinging himself out the hammock and onto his feet.

“Let’s go,” he said, gesturing with his head to the Chateau.

“Where?” Kie asked, getting to her feet rather ungracefully.

“Inside. I’m gonna give you a tattoo,” he said with his signature JJ grin.

“Immediately, no. Nuh-huh. No way,” she said, shaking her head and crossing her arms.

“Oh c’mon, Kie. Rules are rules. You pass on the dare, I get to choose your forfeit, and this is what I chose.” he jeered, and Kie could confirm he was 100% still high, and relief set in that she hadn’t gone through with the dare - regardless of how much she had wanted to in the moment. The fact that she was even entertaining the idea of letting him tattoo her was evidence that she was also still too high to be making sound decisions.

“What kinda tattoo are we talking about here?” she asked, and JJ immediately went to speak, but she threw a hand up and clamped it firmly over his mouth. “And I swear to God if you say your face on my ass, I will drag you off this dock, into the water and drown you with my bare hands,” she said in an obnoxiously sweet tone that entirely did not match her threatening words. She gave a throw of her head in the direction of the dock as she dropped her hand from his mouth just to emphasise her point.

“Well clearly that’s not the first time you’ve thought about doing that.” JJ replied, sounding unnerved. “That’s a little concerning…”

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’. “And somehow I doubt it’ll be the last, either.”

The back and forth continued, until they agreed upon a dolphin - inspired by the bracelet - and settled on a spot, on her ribs, just below her boob. JJ was thrilled, but Kie only agreed because it was the only spot where people wouldn’t be able to easily see it, given that she spent so much time in bikinis.

They went inside to JJ’s “work station”, ie. John B’s coffee table, which Kie ensured had been thoroughly disinfected by dousing everything in straight vodka before letting him touch her.

It was painful, sure, but her lingering buzz helped to dull it, as did a few swigs from the vodka bottle. It felt like it took ages to finish, and although it was messy and far from perfect, JJ was so proud of it - “I personally think it has a lot of character”, he boasted - and she kinda loved it, even though she joked about being scarred for life.

When they woke up the next morning, hungover and feeling like shit on the pull out, it made for a welcome distraction from their “almost kiss” scenario, but equally Kie knew for her, it was also going to be a permanent reminder.

#jade writes jiara #jj maybank x kiara carrera #jj x kiara #jj x kie #jiara #outer banks

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