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vettelsdarling · 10 months

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𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓

➪This is the second part to “Good Together”

➪Read the first part here!

➪This is the final installment of “Good Together”

Pairing: Lando Norris x Verstappen!Fem!Reader

Warnings: (18+ content) smut, oral (m receiving), praise k!nk, tiny bit angst, really smutty

Word count: 6.3k+

“It’s rude to stare, you know?” Busted. Lando didn’t bother opening his eyes before he felt shuffling in the bed. You hogged the sheets as you went to grab some clothes from your closet. Lando swiftly covered himself with a pillow.

“I have to go talk to Kelly. Can you please leave?” You asked, throwing a bra and panties on the bed as you continued your search for something to wear.

“Hold on, okay? Just wait.” He decided to discard the pillow and got out of bed.

“What?” You turned around and tried your best not to look down. You saw something in his eyes. He was searching for answers. Answers you regretted giving the night before. Answers that you didn’t want to repeat.

“Why are you being like this?” He grabbed your arm, caressing it.

“Like what?” You shot back. All you wanted was for him to get out. After that, you definitely needed a margarita with Kelly.

“Why are you so hasty? So distant?” Lando left you no other choice, but to play dumb.

“What do you mean by that? I’m not distant. I’m right here.” Lando sighed and shook his head. He could clearly tell what you were doing, but he decided not to pry any further. Instead, he decided to give you the same treatment.

“Well, since we had a great time last night, I’d like to take you out tonight.” Bold. Very bold, you thought. You played him right back.

“No, actually. I have plans with someone else.” It was a quick lie that you’d be able to cover up by calling your brother. Maybe even another driver. Lando tried his best to keep it together but failed miserably. The image of you wrapped up in someone else’s arms disgusted him. Even if that someone was Carlos. Sure, they were friends, but he had no regrets about anything.

“Stop being immature and tell me what you want,” he said as he glared at you. Your eyes met his again. They showed a hint of desperation this time.

“What I want? What I really want?” There was a slight tug on your lip, restoring the tiniest bit of hope in Lando.

“Tell me, baby,” he smiled.

“Well… I really want…—“ You hesitated before continuing,

“I really want you to put some clothes on and get the hell out of my apartment.” His smile instantly dropped. You didn’t care. You returned to your closet, trying to find whatever would fit for day drinking.

“You know what? Fuck you,” he spat, as he got dressed,

“You go tell Carlos that we’re not a thing. Maybe you can beg him to take you back. I certainly won’t be in the way anymore.” He finished getting dressed before you, took his jacket, and slammed your front door behind him.

Once again, you were alone. Left to sit and soak in what you’d done to Carlos. At that point in time, with the shock of what had happened the night before, you didn’t care about hurting Lando. Sure, maybe he didn’t deserve it— but that was a problem the future version of you would have to deal with.

You got dressed and grabbed your phone from your bedside table. 5 missed calls and 12 new messages all from Carlos. Your heart sank. Whilst you’d been busy doing his best friend, he had tried to call to talk things out completely. You ignored it for the time being, and sent Kelly a quick text,

‘Hey, Kelly… up for some day drinking?’ Lucky for you, she saw the text and replied almost instantly,

‘Of course, I’ll tell Max I have some business to attend’. You went around your place, trying to find everything. After you did, you locked your front door behind you and went outside. You didn’t own a car, as the expenses of law school never really allowed you to. Instead, you decided to take the bus. That was the beauty of not being in the media all that much. Not a single soul recognized you on the bus. You were able to get to your brother’s house with no trouble at all.

When you arrived, you waited for Kelly to come out. However, when you noticed a fiat jolly parked out front. It was hard to believe your eyes, but they didn’t deceive you. Without much thought, you decided to go straight inside. You memorized the passcode to the flat, as you came regularly.

Going in, you tiptoed past the living room, found a place to remain somewhat hidden, and observed your brother and Lando. They weren’t playing video games like they usually were. No, they were conversing. You saw Lando sigh into his hands. They were most definitely talking about you. Still keeping yourself hidden, you moved closer so that they were in earshot.

“Maybe you were reading her wrong this morning?” Asked your brother to try and calm the Brit down.

“I don’t think so. Besides, how would I apologize for saying that stuff to her?” You didn’t really know what to think. On one side, Lando had told you that he loved you. On the other side, he had yet to show you. How were you supposed to trust him after he betrayed you?

“Oh, you’re here! Let’s go!” A voice behind you bubbled. You turned around to see Kelly standing there with Penelope hugging her leg. The little toddler went on to hug yours instead whilst smiling fondly at you.

“You almost gave me away, Kelly!” You whisper-yelled. She didn’t say anything and looked behind you as if there was someone there.

“Gave you away? Were you trying to avoid us?” Max asked. When you turned around yet again, you saw your brother standing there with Lando at his side. You were filled with embarrassment. The kind of embarrassment you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Not at all. I’m just here for Kelly.” You only dared to look into the eyes of Max. There was no way you could bear to even catch a glimpse of Lando’s face staring back at yours.

“Oh okay, where are you going?” It almost felt like an interrogation, which Kelly luckily saved you from,

“Stop grilling your sister, would you? We’re just going out to shop and eat.” She pulled you with her to the front door, leaving Penelope with Max and Lando.

“Please make sure ‘P’ eats something light for lunch, I’m making dinner tonight!” Kelly yelled before closing the door behind her. The two of you got into Kelly’s car and she started the engine. After driving away from the house, you felt more at ease. Just being in the vicinity of the curly-haired Brit made your head pound.

You still hadn’t called Carlos back. You didn’t know if you could. Especially after sleeping with his best friend on the same day as your breakup. Your stomach was knotted with guilt. You could hardly think of getting anything down. How Carlos would ever think of forgiving you, you couldn’t imagine. The Spaniard had always been there for you. He’d always shown you how much he loved you. Although he hadn’t told you directly, you knew that he only had eyes for you. Everything he did, he did for you. Here you were, the second your past crush waltzed back into your life, you pounced. Had you ever been in love with Carlos? Did you ever actually feel anything for him? Was he just a temporary replacement for Lando?

You didn’t know whether to indulge in your own delusion, whether the delusion wasn’t a delusion, or whether to blame yourself. It’s hard for anyone to own up to their mistakes, but something like this was hard to own up to. Mostly because your mind was too clouded with guilt to see if you actually were in the wrong.

Carlos swooping in at the soonest opportunity didn’t seem too far-fetched though. His timing had been awfully convenient. The two of you started talking soon after Lando stopped talking to you. It could only mean one thing; Lando had confided in him and he used that information to get closer to you— eventually going as far as getting infatuated with you.

Was it a mere delusion, or was there maybe some truth to it? In any case, you were more than ready to drown it all out with booze. You didn’t have to wait long, as Kelly parked the car in front of a bar. You unfastened your seatbelt and quickly made it inside.

“Okay. I have one rule. Get as drunk as you want, just don’t get me too drunk,” she said with a chuckle. You went up to the bar and took a seat.

“We’ll start a tab. A Long Island iced tea for me, please.” Kelly gave you a shocked look before ordering her drink.

“Are you kidding? How bad is it?”

“I just don’t want to think about it anymore. I don’t want to think about him anymore,” you sighed and rested your head on the table in front of you. Kelly rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Look, I saw you when things were good between you and Lando. Do you know what I saw in that? Raw and real chemistry,” she encouraged. You were unsure if you enjoyed her feeding you more delusions, but it felt comforting. Kelly usually had a comforting energy around you.

“I don’t know, Kelly. Why would he suddenly just not talk to me if we had that much chemistry?” The bartender slid you your drink and Kelly’s. You immediately took a sip of yours. The straw in the tea only elevated the experience of drinking it. For multiple reasons. Not only were you drinking with a straw, but you were also drinking on an empty stomach. Only time could tell how wasted you were going to end up before the bartender would have no choice but to cut you off.

“Didn’t he already tell you why? Come on, it’s right in front of you, honey,” said Kelly with a roll of her eyes.

The dilemma was that you couldn’t tell if you were feeding yourself hopeless delusions or if something suspicious actually happened. Carlos was such a sweet and gentle soul, but with so many things going on all at once; it was hard to rule out the possibility that he’d taken you from Lando.

“Hello? Stop spiralling, okay? I’m sure Lando feels awful for what he did to you… maybe forgiving him is a great first step, you know?” Kelly’s maternal instinct is exactly what made you like her that much more. She was right. You knew she was, but again, you hated admitting it. Perhaps you weren’t being fair to Lando. Not only had you actually admitted to still being in love with him, but you’d also acted on it. On the exact same day, you’d broken up with Carlos.

As time passed, you only got more and more drunk. The bartender decided to cut you off, and Kelly was in no position to drive either. You were far too gone to carry out another conversation with her, and she had fallen asleep on the counter. You then made the decision to call Max to come to get you in his car and to bring someone else so that Kelly could get her car driven home as well. The way you slurred your words and barely formed a coherent sentence worried him. You immediately blacked out after hanging up, thereby joining Kelly on the counter. It was only a distant hope that you wouldn’t have some drunken fever dream epiphany by the time you’d wake up.

By the time you woke up, you were in your bed at your brother’s place. Your head felt like somebody had rammed it into a wall. Your nausea wasn’t any better. It didn’t help much that it was pitch black, besides the moonlight shining in from behind your curtains. You could see the slight lighting on the window ledge. It was enough for you to see where you were going. You’d pulled yourself out of bed and headed into the kitchen to get something to drink. An educated guess informed you that it was past midnight, so you had to be careful not to be too loud.

“You’re not sneaky, you know?” You nearly dropped your glass of water when you heard the voice creeping up from behind you. It was clearly Max. He had that tired voice you remember from having to wake him up in the mornings to take you to campus.

“Max? You startled me…” your eyes squinted when he turned on some of the lights in the kitchen. It wasn’t too bright, but your eyes had just adjusted to the dark.

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.” You somehow felt like that was your fault. Going out and drinking yourself shitfaced. It wasn’t exactly the best idea. Your brother cared for you to no end, so you could understand his concerns.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you…” Your headache was a bit too overpowering to actually deal with anything at the moment though.

“You know, I really think Lando is in love with you. I don’t just think he likes you, I really do think he’s in love,” said your brother and grabbed a fresh apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen island.

“I don’t know… he really hurt me, Max. What do I even say or do with him?” You sighed and gulped the last bit of your water down. Your throat was so dry, you could feel every last drop of water trickle down your throat. Max put his apple aside to pull you in for a tight hug. You could barely breathe, but you wrapped your arms around his back as well.

“I love you, okay? I just want what’s best for you. That’s why I’m telling you to hold onto Lando. It’s not just because he’s my best friend. I just never saw that spark between you and Carlos. You and Lando? I saw it all the time. I saw the way you looked at him and the way he looked at you,” he said as he pulled away from the hug. It was hard for you not to cry. You were still a bit drunk after all.

“I love you too… I’ll talk to Lando in the morning. Is he here?” Your brother nodded without saying anything in response. Shit. The thought of committing to Lando was frightening, but you trusted Max and his judgment.

“Is he… awake?”

“I’m not sure. He’s sleeping on the couch. I have to get back to bed, but try your luck.” He left the kitchen and you heard the door to his bedroom close.

Your heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was caught in your throat. You were in no condition to confront Lando, but you felt like doing it anyway. With heavy steps and a pounding head, you made your way to the living room. Max was right. There he was. Lando slept soundly on the couch. You noticed he didn’t have a blanket to sleep with, so you grabbed one from your blanket basket beside the TV. When you draped it over him, you saw his face ease into the warm feeling. It felt awfully domestic looking at him sleep, but it also felt like you were violating his personal space.

You couldn’t bring yourself to wake him up and eventually fell asleep on the floor by his side. When Lando’s eyes fluttered open to the morning sun, he noticed the blanket that was so delicately placed on top of him. Then, he noticed you. He noticed your hair, your smell, your lips… he was mesmerized by the sight of you sleeping, slumped against the couch.

“I think she’s trying.” Lando heard Max come into the living room.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I talked to her earlier. She’s hurt by what you did. I think she’s confused too. She doesn’t really know how to talk to you. Maybe you should try?” Max said and left abruptly after. He was already in a fresh set of clothes, so Lando assumed he had a meeting.

“Kelly left breakfast for the two of you, by the way. I’ll be off. See you.”

Silence. It was completely silent in the house. It was just you and Lando alone. Together. The realization nearly made Lando’s breathing come to a screeching halt.

“Hey… wake up.” He stroked your hair and gently shook your shoulders. Lucky for him, you were an extremely light sleeper. When he saw your tired eyes open to the sight of him, he swore he could’ve died and gone to heaven. He’d seen the only blessing he’d ever need in his life. The way your eyes fixated on his… he could barely take it.

“I was hoping we could… talk?” Lando helped you up on the couch. There was an awkward air between the two of you. It was hard to communicate, and you’d always known that communication was key.

“Sure, I guess.” It was an appropriate response, considering the awkwardness of the situation. You didn’t owe him much anyway… Did you? You curled up with the blanket. Lando let you have it, as he didn’t need it anymore. Both of you were waiting for the other to start. Lando was the one to cave in, however.

“Max came in just a few minutes ago. I know now that I should’ve been more patient with you. Having broken your trust, I shouldn’t have been so selfish about it. I should’ve waited for you to be ready.

“I appreciate you admitting that. I really do, Lando…” You looked down at your fingers sheepishly. Looking directly at the Brit whilst saying that felt too raw.

“—But?” Asked Lando. He knew there’d be a ‘but’ after that. He wasn’t wrong. There was.

“—but I don’t know whether or not to give you a chance. I just don’t know how to go about it,” you sighed into the blanket that comforted you.

“Can I hug you?” The tone of the question almost sounded like he was begging for your touch. You didn’t mind though. You pulled his head into your chest, letting him hear the beat of your heart. Fast but gentle. You stroked his curls, which he loved. It was like a drug to him. Your touch was intoxicating. Especially when it was so domestic and calming. Lando snuggled deeper into you and pulled the blanket over the both of you. At that point, you were leaning against the arm of the couch.

“I missed you,” he mumbled. You could hear the sincerity in his words, but you didn’t want to give in to trust too easily.

“I’ve always been right here.” Something about those words tugged harshly at the McLaren driver’s heartstrings. He felt that dip of guilt he always felt whenever you brought up Luisa. He knew it wasn’t a guilt trip. You were hurt for obvious reasons and you had every right to keep yourself reserved.

“I’m sorry, bunny.” Bunny. A nickname you hadn’t heard in a while. He used to call you that to annoy you, but you found it oddly comforting now.

“I know, Lan,” you sighed and leaned your head back to stare up at the ceiling,

“I just wish you would have come to me about everything earlier. I wouldn’t have hurt Carlos and you and I…” you trailed off. Was it really that hard to finish the sentence? It was as if something was preventing you from doing so. Some spiritual power.

Instead of saying something— anything, Lando pulled away from you and instead caged you under his body. Your eyes met his, as he dipped down to get closer to your face. Your lips parted. He took note of that, as he attacked them with his own. Those pretty little lips of yours were his to swell up. That pretty hair of yours was his to pull. That radiant skin of yours was his to bruise.

Just like before, there was no liquid courage involved. It was pure lust and boldness coming from the both of you. Lando pulled his shirt off. He put the statue of David to shame with his body that looked as if it was carved out of marble. God and the way he looked at you with adoration. You couldn’t help but succumb. Likely not in the way that he wanted, though.

You decided that you wanted to take control. If anything, gratitude is what he felt. The two of you flipped, with you on top of him. Your hips were against his, but you decided not to start grinding yet. You wanted him to be patient, as he hadn’t been before. You wanted to teach him a lesson once and for all. Your lips came down on his, biting his under lip— which he enjoyed a tad bit too much. You could tell by the twitching in his pants. He was definitely feeling restrained and you relished in making him feel that way. He deserved it.

Taking things to the next step, you took your tank top off painfully slow. The moment your bra was in sight, Lando sat up. You were quick to reject his advances and push him down again,

“Ah ah, you don’t get to touch. Patience.” The way he listened to you like an obedient little dog made you feel so powerful. You were in a position you’d always dreamed of being in.

You’d never slept with Carlos, but you had the feeling that he wouldn’t let you do something like that. Lando? He was more than happy to give up control, and you loved it.

Your hand slid down his chest, making him shiver with delight. The closer you came to his lower region, the harder he seemed to breathe. You could feel his excitement against your pelvic floor. Upon adjusting your position to completely match, Lando took it as if you were starting to please him. To give in to his needs. After all, whatever he desired was exactly what you desired.

It was too hard for you to keep the act up. You were just as hot and heavy as he was. Waiting for it was painful. Even for you, who hadn’t gotten action in months before you got it from the Brit. Your chastity was only what turned the both of you on even more. The way you’d only ever been used by few did it for him.

You leaned down to kiss him, thereby letting him unclasp your bra. He flung it into a corner, nearly hitting the flatscreen. Your brother would’ve ended your life, if sex would’ve knocked over his precious TV.

It was easy to tell that the curly-haired driver had gained more than a little too much confidence, as he asked you to take him down your throat. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You were more than happy to, but it’d be too easy. Although your patience was running out, you wanted his to be as depleted as possible. You wanted to see the desperate look in his eyes as he would beg you. The thought of it was enough to convince you to hold onto your own patience.

What was the purpose of drugs when you had sex? You were high on the feeling, and drunk on Lando’s expressions. He loved the way you looked on top of him. The way you were so confident and almost vicious.

“I want you so bad.” There it was. The first step towards a constantly begging Lando. What you’d done at your place was nothing compared to this. It wasn’t just a quickie either. The two of you both held the utmost respect for the other, wanting nothing but pleasure.

“You’ll get it if you’re patient, Lan,” you said with a small tug on your lips. He hated waiting. Patience might’ve been a virtue, but it sure as hell wasn’t his strong suit. Even with Luisa. He rushed into things with her, without realizing that he was in love with someone else. The two of you both had more than enough time, but all he ever did was rush. Lessons are taught for a reason. To make it his forté, you taught him using sex.

You kicked the blanket off and got off him, so that you could move further down his body, stationing your face between his thighs. Oh, how he wanted it. Just to watch him breathe out with an even shakier breath, you tugged at his boxer briefs with your teeth. You made sure to take a lick of his skin in between the tugging. His gasps were egging your heat on. It had risen to your head. Your mind was swimming in it even though the air conditioning had been turned on.

When you finally got them off with the help of your hands, his dick stood proudly in front of you. With beaming eyes, you admired that one, particularly prominent vein. Lando was obviously over the bend after waiting so long for you to do something— anything. Truly, anything. He craved your tongue, the walls of your mouth, and the back of your throat.

You gave him exactly what he wanted. Your tongue swirled around his tip. It was already leaking precum. The taste was salty, but like last time— you welcomed it with an enthusiastic smile. After having teased him enough with your tongue, you went down on him. His hands easily found your hair, pulling it into a messy makeshift ponytail. You learned from your lesson last time. Gag reflex? What even was that? The closer your nose got to his abdomen, the more you heard the sighs and seethes of the driver. He guided you up and down his dick, watching as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. Maybe you still had to practice some more. You had just the right way to do it in front of you. Practice makes perfect.

As the pace sped up, you relinquished control and let him use your mouth to unload himself. He deserved it after you kept him waiting for so long. Closer and closer, he was almost at the end of his rope, trying desperately to catch the tide below. With one final push of your head, he released himself down your throat. You eagerly swallowed everything like the good girl you were.

“You took me just perfect, bunny.” That nickname really did something for you. A tingle in your abdomen forced you to act on your desires. Your heart was beating fast and you weren’t really sure if you even had a thought going through your mind. You were drunk on his cologne, his shampoo, his body wash— everything. You wanted him bad.

“Ride me,” said Lando with hooded eyes, looking down at you. You didn’t know what to say. It’d certainly be a first. Whatever confidence you had before was gone. Lando’s pure sex appeal and desperate need for you had thrown it all out the window. Patience was no longer a virtue. Patience was a social construct. One that you wanted more than anything; to defy with no remorse.

You were swiftly able to kick off your shorts along with your panties, having them join your bra. Lando adjusted himself to sit upright to make your experience better. Instead of letting him enter, you decided to lubricate his dick with your slick. You started grinding against him, coating every inch of him with you. Not only did it make him hard again, but it also ensured his continued lust for you. Fuck, did you love the way we grabbed your hips, squeezing them the way he did. He was simply intoxicating.

It wasn’t long before you’d had enough and needed him. He helped by aligning himself. You slowly sank down on him, barely being able to take all of him. He didn’t rush you. He gave you the time you needed to adjust to his size. The stretch was unfathomable. Not something the average woman would expect in her lifetime.

“You’re doing so good, darling,” the Brit responded to your continued whimpering and heavy breathing. You were an absolute sucker for praise. You used his shoulders as a crutch, which he was more than happy about. That way, he was able to see the dip of your breasts and the way they’d come to bounce back and forth as you rode him.

When you began moving, you immediately felt his fingers dig into your hips. He was evidently trying not to hurt you too much, but the way he seethed and looked at you with those gorgeous blue-grey eyes— he wasn’t great at hiding it.

You closed your eyes and threw your head back as you began to go faster. Your moans bounced off the walls and his groans ricocheted with them. You saw stars. You felt fuller than after a whole Thanksgiving meal. He was big, and judging by his smirk in between his sighing and groaning— he knew exactly just how big he was. Lando was more than proud of the fact that he could please in ways nobody ever would.

“Lando- fuck,” you could barely form a coherent sentence. Your mind was too hazy and drunk on his dick. There was no such thing as multitasking. There was only riding and moaning.

“Fuck, baby, say my name again,” he responded. He could tell you were starting to get tired, by the way your legs started giving out. Respecting your wishes of wanting to stay on top, he kept you there. Only, he started thrusting into you with all the force he could muster.

“Lando,” you repeated. You sang his name like a Christmas carol. You sounded divine. He loved hearing his name spill uncontrollably from your swollen, little lips.

The two of you were both getting close. It was a stroke of luck that you’d started birth control when you met Carlos. You’d almost cancelled your prescription, due to Carlos never seeming interested in that sort of thing. You were more than happy with your decision to keep taking it.

Lando went faster, trying to get you to go before him. You were his number one priority. He needed you to finish before him. He wanted to spoil you. Your hips were red with marks he left from all the squeezing.

Your vision was blurry and you saw a faint light in the corner of your eye. It was likely the sun peering in from the windows, but paired with the blurring; it felt like you were in another plane of existence. Your walls started tightening. You felt it like an electric shock zooming through every nerve ending in your entire body. You bit your lower lip to avoid screaming out the curly-haired Brit’s name, but he was not having it. He wanted to hear you. Hell, he wanted all of Monaco to hear you. Loud and clear.

“Don’t you dare stay silent. Scream. Scream for me, bunny.” You weren’t a brat. You did exactly as you were told. To the point. You screamed his name, as your walls constricted Lando’s movements. Your sweet essence ran down his dick. Just the sight of it paired with the inability to move inside you pushed him over the edge as well. With a deep groan and a feeble attempt at a thrust, he painted your walls white with his cum. You were his canvas and painting was his hobby.

“That’s how it’s supposed to feel,” you sighed and let yourself fall against him.

“I know, bunny, I know”.

The rest of that week was filled with Lando. He drove you to campus, he drove you home, he drove you to go see friends, he brought you to his races, and he had you wear his McLaren fits.

Carlos came to understand the situation, as he’d not been in the right mindset from the get-go either. It was still awkward around him, but his friendship with Lando still went strong… despite the betrayal on both sides. He had admitted to going for the opportunity, knowing Lando was into you. The two of them were fairly quick to forgive and forget. You couldn’t quite make sense of how they did so.

Even though Lando pampered you to no end, you were still stuck. You still couldn’t tell whether or not to trust him. Kelly told you to let it go. Max told you to let it go. All of your friends told you to forgive Lando. You still had yet to do so. The trust issues had cut so deep, it had disconnected you from any sort of common sense whatsoever. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to trust him. You just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You didn’t have it in your heart.

So, one day, whilst lying in your shared hotel suite, you contemplated sitting down with Lando to talk. He’d just finished qualifying, so it was the perfect opportunity.

When Lando walked through the door, you saw a look of elation etched onto his face. It likely meant he did well, which, of course, made you just as excited. You got out of bed to go congratulate him on his position.

“I’m guessing you did well?” You popped up in front of him. Oh, how he loved seeing you in your tiny shorts and his hoodie. Your hair was messy from shifting in the bed, but he didn’t seem to mind. It added to your rawness and your natural beauty. This was exactly what he wanted to come back home to every single day.

“P3, bunny.” His smile lit the entire suite up. He was really that amazing.

“Congrats, Lan,” you smiled into a kiss and buried your face in the crook of his neck when hugging him. He stroked your hair and hummed. His love language was physical touch, and he loved it whenever you’d indulge in it.

He saw a pile of files, documents, and photos lying on the desk of the table. It was a case you were studying for your upcoming exam. The thought of having you take your material with you for him pained him, but seeing as you didn’t mind; he didn’t say anything about it.

“Actually, could we talk for a second?” For whatever reason, Lando’s heart immediately dropped to his stomach. He knew of those words all too well.

“Of course, Bunny. You can talk to me. What’s wrong?” The two of you took a seat on the bed. It sank with your combined weight.

“I’ve actually been wondering… well… I don’t actually know how to go about saying this,” you started. The tone of your voice didn’t give him any hint as to what was to come, but he had a slight idea of what it was about.

“You can tell me anything,” he urged.

“I just have this nagging feeling that you’ll leave me again. I just… I want to know that I can trust you.” Although it was exactly what he’d expected, it still shook him to hear it out loud. The fact that you looked like you really needed him to tell you outright, saddened him. He didn’t blame you, of course. He just couldn’t help but feel hurt.

“I would never do that to you again,” he tried to reason, but you cut in,

“You did it once before. I’m scared you’ll do it again, Lando” You rarely used his name. You always resorted to nicknames and shortening it.

“Believe me, Bunny. Look at me. Look into my eyes,” he pleaded. You did as he asked and stared into his desperate eyes. He clearly wanted to do right, but you were blind. You had to hear it. You needed to hear him say it right.

“I love you. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I’ll say it a thousand times if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.” He took your hands in his and gave them a light squeeze.

“I can’t even imagine a life without you if I’m being completely honest. The way you came to greet me at the door. I mean, why would I ever leave you? I’m so lucky to have you waiting for me after every race. So lucky to be able to wake up with you next to me. I was just a fool to realize it so late, Bunny.” He hoped it was enough. He hoped it had gotten through to you.

“I love you too, Lan. I love you so much.” You leaned into a gentle kiss, carefully intertwining your fingers with his soft curls. You felt his hands cup the sides of your face, caressing the back of your ears with his index finger.

“You and Carlos weren’t, but we are,” whispered Lando after pulling away from the kiss, forehead pressed against yours. You looked into his mesmerizing, blue eyes. The same ones you fell in love with before everything went down. The same ones you’d always loved.

“What?” You asked and chuckled, unsure what he meant by that. He smiled at you. You smiled at him.

“Good together.”

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

©vettelsdarling

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 11 months

Text

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 1: June I

{{ Chapter 2: July I }} Chapter Directory

I'm so excited to finally publish this jdkflsjd. I'll get this chapter up on AO3 later this weekend or on Monday since my parents are in town, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to be on! If you're interested in getting tagged for updates, fill out this new form here: x :3

EDIT: this is now up on AO3 as well!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackermann x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers (sorta), strangers to lovers, fem!reader, eventual smut, ex was originally porco but i accidentally made him too much of a dick so i replaced his name with zack, no it is not a reference to zeke i'd rather puke, only adding tags/content warnings that are applicable to each chapter so people can skip around if need be!, will continue to add as more stuff comes up ✧ word count ➼ ~3.9k

College was difficult enough without having to worry about money, housing, and relationship issues. Unfortunately, you were not one of the few lucky students that could just get through those four years in isolation. In addition to worrying about school, you also had to deal with a last minute housing change after some recent bullshit regarding your now ex-boyfriend. Your dynamic had gotten to the point that you couldn’t afford to wait for another two months as leases began expiring and apartments would open up for prospective renters again. You’d rather live on the streets when compared to having to live with him for another day.

Given the fact that it was June and your only remaining family was out of the country, you were left with no choice but to desperately try to find a sublease that wasn’t ridiculously expensive. That, plus the fact that you didn’t have a car and would be forced to live near campus, meant that you were ready to rip your hair out by the time that you finally found a sublease.

You knew it was due to nothing other than pure luck when you found an apartment complex that was a ten-minute walk to campus, close to a bus stop, relatively cheap, and had a tenant that moved out the week prior.

Unfortunately, your luck ran out when you found that you'd have to take a 2-hour bus ride from your ex-boyfriend's house to your new apartment. It wasn't that far from the two destinations, but the bus routes looped around the town multiple times, making your commute much longer than if you had gone by car.

As a result, you found yourself leaning your head back against the glass window at the rear end of the bus.

This really is Zack's last "fuck you" to me, isn't it?

You anxiously tapped your foot against the floor as you pulled out your phone for the millionth time. The previous tenant that set up the sublease had given you the contact information for your new roommate to set up the exchange of keys along with getting everything set up regarding who's paying for what utilities and how rent would be split. You already knew this was going to be a pain in the ass to handle. What you weren't prepared for was the lack of a hasty response when you sent a text to the number that Miche had given you.

> [you (12:35pm)]: hey, miche said you'd be free this afternoon so i can get your keys? does 3:00 work

You had sent that text message to your mysterious roommate roughly an hour ago when you had boarded your first bus back towards campus. You were now about half-way through your trip and had boarded your third bus, which was finally your last one before getting dropped off roughly a block away from your new apartment.

You shot a frown towards your phone. Your roommate had still not answered. Frustrated, you began typing again, in case the urgency in your first text was missed.

> [you (1:45pm)]: im on the bus ride over. i don't have a car, so would we be able to handle this so i'm not stranded outside?

By the time you arrived, your roommate had still not answered. You had spent the entire two-hour ride anxiously bouncing your leg up and down, checking your phone every 5-10 minutes to see if you would ever get an answer.

You didn't.

When the bus driver finally announced your stop, you found yourself more anxious than you were relieved at finishing your annoyingly long bus ride. You stepped off the bus in a dejected manner, with your right hand holding onto your phone and your left hand holding onto your backpack strap that was a bit too tight on your shoulders. Your back ached from lugging it around all day. It was packed with the basic necessities that you would need to survive the week, with your ex-boyfriend, Zack, promising to drop off the rest of your stuff next week—although you knew that translated to "shit he didn't want". That's just how your dynamic was.

You unlocked your phone and typed in the address for your new apartment complex again, navigating your way through the fairly empty streets. It was a residential area and given the fact that it was near a college campus—and therefore primarily made up of university students—and it was in the middle of June, most of the tenants had gone home for the summer.

The new apartment complex wasn't bad. It certainly couldn't compare to a house, but it had an indoor lobby with mailboxes on one side and a recreation room on the other with some vending machines, and even a small kitchenette.

No wonder the rent was so expensive.

You stepped inside, a relieved exhale escaping your lips as you felt the cool air from the air conditioning unit wash over you. Although you were definitely still irritated, seeing the lobby and escaping the heat brought up your mood slightly.

Your resolve renewed, you began to climb up the stairs, trying to figure out the best way to greet your new roommate without being overly frustrated.

Maybe their phone was off. Maybe they took a nap and couldn't see the texts. Maybe you got the wrong number from Miche.

You thought of all the reasons as to why they wouldn't respond. You shook your head, knowing that you should just brush it under the rug. As long as your roommate was home to let you in and give you your keys, there shouldn't be any more issues—for now.

"Unit 217," you mumbled to yourself as you walked down the hallway, looking up at the door numbers.

Once you appeared in front of Unit 217, you frowned, noticing that the lights inside were off. That wasn't good news.

Maybe there's enough lighting from the windows that they don't need lights.

You gently knocked on the door.

There wasn't a sound—no movement, no noise, no talking, nothing.

You knocked again a bit harder.

Nothing.

You knocked again.

They're not home. Of course they're not home. What a wonderful start to this already shitty situation.

You rested your forehead against the door, tempted to smash your head against it out of frustration. Your eyes finally shot open when you heard a door open. You glanced over to the side and saw a tall blonde man with a beard and glasses walk out.

"Locked out?" he asked as you made eye contact.

"You could say that," you mumbled with a frown. "You wouldn't happen to know of anywhere within walking distance that has wi-fi?"

If you couldn't get ahold of your roommate, you might as well get some writing done until you can return later in the evening when your roommate has to be home.

"There's a café roughly a block down, if you were wanting to hang out there, although I'm not sure when Ackermann will be home. His schedule's been all over the place recently."

"Hmm," you muttered, indicating the lack of interest in learning about your roommate's backstory, although you now at least had a name.

Ackermann, huh? What a pretentious sounding last name.

~~~~~

These damn undergrads...

Levi Ackermann currently stood behind the doorway that led from the breakroom and into the main seating area of the small, local café that he currently held a part-time position as a barista at.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He had purposefully given himself the week off so he could catch up on some lab work, yet he still found himself here. One of the new hires—a sophomore named Marlo—called out roughly 20 minutes ago when Levi was headed home from his immunology lab after spending the entire morning chatting with his mentor about whether he'd be able to graduate with his PhD on time.

To make things worse, since he was new, Marlo's shift meant that Levi was stuck working at the registers to take orders, which he easily considered the worst part of the job. If his shift just consisted of making the specialty brews that came his way, he'd be significantly less grumpy. That way, he could just tuck away in his corner and do the one aspect of the job that he enjoyed—making tea—instead of having to deal with the irritation that came with dealing with the undergrads that frequently visited.

"For fuck's sake," he whispered underneath his breath as he shut the door to his locker, ignoring his phone that kept on lighting up. He had it on silent for everyone except for the two people that mattered in his life—Farlan and Isabel—and they wouldn't contact him unless it was an emergency.

The fact that coming into this shift was one of the smaller annoyances in Levi's life simply poured more salt onto his wound. He wasn't even supposed to be working this much since it took away from his school time to do his research, but the graduate program's financial aid office fucked up his stipend and he was left to fend for himself. It was only for this month, so it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, but then his housing situation got all fucked up.

He had been living with Miche for roughly a year and they had a decent partnership as roommates, until Miche left to live closer to the city after freshly finishing a Master's program. Miche had moved out about two weeks ago, telling him that his new roommate would be reaching out soon. Levi's stipend situation couldn't come at a worse time, as Miche moving out meant he had to cover this month's rent on his own unless his new roommate magically showed up within the next day and was willing to cover rent when they hadn't even really started living there yet.

After shooting a death glare at the front register for a few more minutes, he finally decided to step up to the counter, hoping that it was at least a slow day so he could get home and pretend the grievances in his life weren't as bothersome for a few hours.

His shift had just started, so he was more than a little annoyed when he already heard the door open. The semester had just ended, which roughly translated to all the undergrads leaving for summer break. Other than the few stragglers and the unfortunate PhD students that were forced to work through the summer, everyone should have gone home. He glanced up as he saw someone walk inside.

An immediate frown appeared on his face. He could immediately tell that they were an undergraduate student, and likely an oblivious one at that.

Levi watched as you stumbled in through the door, dragging in a backpack that was slightly too large and overpacked. You looked like you had been running around with no sense of direction or purpose. You were all disheveled, as shown by how chaotic your hair looked and through how much you struggled stepping away from the door frame and towards the coffee bar.

He felt his eyes begin to roll before seeing you approach him.

Taking over Marlo's shift means I'm working the registers and have to talk with the undergrads. What a pain in the ass.

He stared at you with a neutral expression on his face as you plopped down at the coffee bar in front of him.

"Can I get you something?" he finally said, in a tone that indicated that customer service was not one of his skills in this profession.

You looked past him at the menu that was hung up behind him. Although you had passed this café a bunch whenever you found the time to travel off-campus and explore the town that surrounded the outskirts of Paradis University, this was the first time you actually found yourself in Chosahei Café. You squinted at the menu, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion at some of the options.

"Why are the specialty coffee drinks unavailable?"

"Ah?" mumbled Levi before turning around to glance at where you were looking. "The barista that specializes in those stepped out. I can get you one of the standard ones or I can get you one of the specialty teas."

You blinked at him for a few seconds as if you were struggling to process what he was saying.

"You're a barista and you can't make coffee?"

"Tch," he muttered, already beyond irritated as he frowned at you. He knew that he was likely biased against your presence and simply lumped you in with the rest of the undergrads that constantly drove him up the wall with their obsession with cheap iced lattes that he couldn't be bothered to care about making. "Did you not hear what I just said? I can get you a standard one or—if you were really wanting one of the house specialty drinks—one of the teas."

"You must get top remarks for your customer service skills," you said with a monotonous tone.

Levi placed his hands on the counter, leaning against it as he stared at you.

"This isn't some retail café like Starbucks—which is down the street, by the way," he said, pointing towards the door as a gesture to indicate that you could leave if you weren't satisfied. "The house drinks were all created by the employees and the barista that made the specialty coffees stepped out. Now are you going to order or not? I have other customers to attend to."

His eyes raised off of you and towards the back of the café, where a line of about 3-4 people gathered as they impatiently waited for you to order.

"Hmph," you said, letting out an irritated exhale. "Get me a matcha."

Levi raised an eyebrow at you.

"Out of all the specialty ones here, you go with something as basic as that?"

You were beyond confused over why this random barista in a small, local café was giving you this much grief.

"Oh what the hell? Just get me the damned matcha, you asshole," you snapped at him as you tossed your card towards him.

He quickly grabbed your card and put in the order with an unamused look on his face.

You kept your gaze on him as he begrudgingly prepared your drink. After about a minute, you glanced towards the door that opened as a tall gentleman that also wore the barista apron stepped inside. He was average height, but seemed much taller, likely due to the fact that the barista in front of you that decided to chastise you for ordering a matcha barely rose above you in terms of height—and you were not a tall person.

The new barista went behind the counter and started taking the other customers that had gathered behind you, removing the "unavailable" sign that covered up the specialty coffees. You frowned as he smoothly chatted with the customers, with your expression quickly turning into a scowl as you saw him remove the sign.

"I'm guessing he's the barista that actually knows how to make coffee?" you said, shooting another unamused look towards Levi as he walked back with your cup of matcha.

You heard a quiet grunt from the grumpy barista you had the misfortune of being served by and you sighed as you picked up the cup and took a sip of the matcha that he reluctantly made you.

You paused, a little taken aback by the taste.

It was pretty damn good—much better than any you've ever gotten at Starbucks, anyhow.

"Onyankopon brought over some specialty recipes that he apparently grew up making over at Marley," Levi grumbled to you. "That is why I couldn't make the specialty coffees."

After he said that, he subtly scowled at himself. Why he was even explaining himself to you was beyond him. You were just some random undergrad that stopped by and said annoying undergrad things. He had literally no reason to explain himself or justify his actions.

"So what brought you in? You're undergrad, right?" Levi asked, prompting you to look up at him. "Didn't classes just end? Most of you are back at your parents by now."

You sighed and pursed your lips, with a dark look entering your eyes. Levi was able to tell that you were biting your tongue on some information that was relevant, but that you didn't feel like divulging.

"Yes," you finally said. "I had some shit come up and had to move last minute, so I'm stuck on campus for now."

You took another sip of your matcha as a frown grew on your face.

"But at this point, I'm pretty sure it was a fucking mistake."

"Oh?" Levi asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I had to take a two-hour bus ride here since my asshole of an ex just happened to be busy on the day I need his car, but as luck would have it, my roommate also happens to be out, so I can't even get my damn keys from them, hence why I'm here getting chastised by you because I ordered a damned matcha instead of being in my new apartment and getting settled in."

You looked up at Levi upon hearing his silence.

"How unfortunate," he finally responded in an uninterested tone.

You rolled your eyes at his response.

"God, talking to you is a pain in the ass," you spat before quickly finishing the rest of the matcha and throwing a spare dollar onto the counter as a tip before getting up.

You paused before walking away, turning slightly towards the grumpy barista.

"You should probably consider the fact that people don't order your teas because they don't want to order from you."

"Ah?" Levi muttered as he took the dollar off the counter.

"People generally don't like interacting with someone that acts like a dick right off the bat."

~~~~~

Levi frowned to himself as he kicked off his shoes upon walking in the front door, placing them neatly upside down on the shoe rack next to the door. He sighed as he flipped on the light switch to his empty apartment. He didn't particularly mind living on his own, but Miche was a good roommate and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little on edge over who his new roommate was going to be.

He walked over to his bedroom, pushing the door open as he lifted his barista apron over his head to put away for the night. Seeing the apron reminded him of the café, and in particular, the conversation he had with a certain undergraduate student that he was forced to serve and insulted him right before they left.

Tch, he thought as he recalled the comment you made.

I'm not a dick. What the fuck.

He shut his closet after he put the apron away, his mood soured by the recollection of your conversation, although he wasn't in a great mood to begin with in the first place. He looked at the clock on his nightstand and saw that he had a few hours before he was supposed to "go to bed". Being a notorious insomniac, "going to bed" basically meant laying down and staring at the ceiling for a few hours. He rarely ever got to actually sleep, but the few minutes he can occasionally catch were enough to keep him going.

He walked over to his desk, turning the switch on his small desk lamp and pulling out a folder from his backpack that was hung up against the side of his desk. He pulled out a stack of paper and neatly placed them at the center of his desk. He took a seat in his chair and flipped through the packets, frowning at the sheer number he had yet to go through. His original plan for the day was to get home and read through some of these papers that Erwin had assigned him to read before he went back to lab on Monday—it was currently a Friday. He knew Erwin had high expectations for him. Erwin would even occasionally say that Levi was the best student he's ever had, which made Levi immediately want to shrivel up in discomfort.

He glanced up from the papers in his hand. His room was "empty". Miche had commonly made fun of him and said that Levi always made his space look like no one actually lived there. The top of his desk was always empty, his bed was always made, and not a single article of clothing was in plain sight. Levi Ackermann was just that type of person. It heavily contributed to why he was so on edge over who his new roommate would be and if they would even be compatible in terms of living style.

He turned on his phone to check the time, having ignored it for the entire latter half of the day.

7:30pm. That meant he had time to get at least a few papers reviewed.

He frowned as he looked through his notifications and saw an unknown number appear. The texts were from this afternoon, so he knew it was long past an appropriate time to respond.

> [unknown number (12:35pm)]: hey, miche said you'd be free this afternoon so i can get your keys? does 3:00 work > [unknown number (1:45pm)]: im on the bus ride over. i don't have a car, so would we be able to handle this so i'm not stranded outside?

He sighed as he locked his phone and placed it onto his desk. It was just his luck that he went into a last-minute shift right as his new roommate contacted him. He knew that this new roommate was going to be irate with him since it's been around 6 hours since they sent that text. This just added more things onto Levi's plate that he really didn't need right now.

Before he could move to pick up his phone to shoot a reply at this unknown number, he heard not-so-gentle knocking on the door. Knowing that this was likely his new roommate that he had unintentionally ignored all day, he internally groaned to himself before forcing himself out of his chair.

He heard another knock as he made his way from his bedroom to the front door, bracing himself as he unlocked the door and pulled it open.

A frown appeared on his face as he looked at the person in front of him in confusion.

"What the hell?" he muttered as he saw an equally confused expression appear on your face.

That annoying undergrad from this afternoon?

"Did you follow me home?"

You raised an eyebrow at him. The last person you had expected to be greeted with was the grumpy barista that you had the misfortune of interacting with earlier in the day.

"Did you?" you retorted.

Levi scoffed.

"How the hell would I have followed you home if I was here first?"

He cursed to himself as he recalled the monologue you gave him earlier on in the day.

You had said that you had to suffer on a bus ride and couldn't get in contact with your new roommate to get keys to the unit. Now that you were standing in front of the door to his apartment, his frown only grew.

Your eyes widened as you finally put together the pieces.

"Wait," you asked, shaking your head slightly. "Are you-?"

"I guess so," Levi responded with an unamused sigh.

"Fuck."

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17

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readyforthegarden · 2 months

Note

I saw your post and say this prompt: "your morning voice is so hot." [laughs] "what?" and immediately said DANNY!!!

Allie my love, here is a sweet little blurb for you and Danny (god I bet his voice is so deep and raspy in the mornings 😭)

💖💖💖

You were always a heavy sleeper. Throughout your life you’d slept through numerous thunderstorms, parties, and even a late night car chase through your old neighborhood. But last night was one of the first nights every sound woke you from your slumber.

Being in bed with Danny wasn’t new, in fact it was something that happened regularly. Neither of you had been looking for anything serious. A casual hook up here and there turned into a friends with benefits situation as the two of you got closer over time.

But now, things were different. A bad storm had rolled through last night, taking out power lines, winds so strong the tornado sirens had gone off a few times. Just your luck you’d been at Danny’s place, getting ready to leave after one such netflix and chill session, when the first sirens blared.

“I didn’t realize how bad it was getting,” you moved towards the window in Danny’s home, glancing out at the storm as lightning flashed across the sky. You felt a hand encircle your wrist, and you were dragged back softly.

“Best not to be so close to windows with the tornado sirens going off,” Danny informed you softly. “Come on, let’s move somewhere a little safer.” Following him down the hall of his apartment, you let him lead you into his bathroom, where there were no windows. “Safest place we have, usually we’d climb into the tub and huddle up.”

“You’ve been through tornados before?” you asked, trying to hide the fear in your voice. Truth be told, where you grew up you never had to worry about them. There weren’t common enough to even have drills about them in school.

“Growing up in a rural area, at the end of tornado alley, yeah, I’ve had a few run ins.” Danny shrugged. “Nothing too bad; we were always really lucky it was only a few shingles off the roof or some hail that cracked a window, and never anything more serious.”

“That’s still terrifying.” The wind blew against the building, almost screeching against the siding, and you found yourself climbing into Danny’s bathtub. Holding back a chuckle, Danny climbed in too, sitting behind you. His long legs rested on either side of you, and you felt more at ease. When the lights flickered, you jumped, and felt his arms encircle you, gently pulling you back against his chest until you were positively snuggled into him.

“Wanna hear a funny story?” Danny asked softly. You nodded, willing your nerves to stop getting the best of you in this storm as the power fully went out, the bathroom in pitch darkness as the storm raged outside. “This one time on tour, the venue we were in didn’t have dressing rooms for all of us. So Josh, our singer got the only one so he could meditate and do his warm ups and everything, the rest of us had to get ready on the bus.”

“Josh sounds like a diva.”

“Oh he is,” Danny chuckled. “But anyway, the venue was pretty secluded, so there wasn’t any chance of anyone really seeing us go back and forth. I thought I’d brought back my whole outfit, but it turns out, I left my pants in the venue.”

“Oh no,” you giggled, already envisioning Danny looking around in just his underwear for his clothes.

“Oh no is right,” he continued. “So I had my shirt on, you know the silver mesh? And nothing but my boxer briefs. And I thought I was being so sneaky and so fast, running from the bus into the venue. But it turns out, I wasn’t. I heard some whistles and saw some fans that had gotten to the venue late that saw the whole thing!” Danny laughed, his chest rumbling against your back.

“You probably made their lives, honestly.” you joked back. “Your ass is amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“I have no complaints.” you replied, shifting slightly in his arms as your leg had fallen asleep. The two of you chattered on quietly, Danny succeeding in taking your mind off the storm completely. After a while, the two of you realized how quiet it had gotten, and you cleared your throat.

Moving away from Danny, he let go of you without protest, letting you stand and stretch your legs, holding onto the nearby edge of the sink as you stepped out on pins and needles in your feet from being tucked away too long. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you squinted at the bright light from the screen, your eyes had adjusted to the dark in the bathroom.

“It sounds like the storm is over, I think it’s safe for me to head home.” you said quietly. Danny stood up from the bath, exiting it much more gracefully. There was a silence between the two of you, as neither of you really wanted you to leave.

“Y-you know it’s probably a mess out there.” Danny cleared his throat. If the power is out, some of the traffic lights are also out, and I’d hate for you to be driving so late and have to deal with that.”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal.” You hadn’t thought of the traffic lights being out, and with how people drove in the area, it was a whole new wave of anxiety.

“I insist,” Danny reached out, taking your hand. “They’ll be working all night to get the power back on, you can stay here and leave in the morning so at least there’s some daylight to help you see.”

“O-okay,” you nodded and agreed.

“Good, now help me find some candles, and we’ll get ready for bed.” the two of your scrounged his apartment, only finding three decent sized scented candles to light. You carried the vanilla cinnamon bun one around with you, placing it on the bathroom sink as Danny found a spare, unused toothbrush from a dentist visit and gave it to you to use before bed. The two of you brushed your teeth together in the candlelight quietly and you couldn’t help but notice how Danny’s olive skin radiated the warmth of the candle glow. You longed to touch him again and feel it, be wrapped up much like you were earlier.

Once done with your night routine, or what you could do of it with Danny’s products, you left the bathroom, heading for the living room, planning to camp out on the couch.

“Where are you going?” Danny’s voice stopped you. Turning with your candle, you shrugged, nodding towards the sofa.

“I was gonna sleep out here…”

“Why?”

“Don’t you think sharing the bed is a little….” you regarded Danny with wide eyes, shrugging again. “Intimate?” you expected him to agree, or make a sarcastic joke that you’ve both been more than intimate with one another, but all he did was smile warmly.

“No, I don’t.” those three words had you up all night. You laid in Danny’s bed, next to him, thinking about them. You would drift off occasionally, and a quiet rumble of thunder would wake you, or Danny’s shifting in his sleep, disturbing the sheets. At one point the thought keeping you awake was how you were wearing one of his old shirts he had cut into a tank top as a sleep shirt, and it still smelled like his cologne mixed in with his detergent.

Finally, sleep caught you in its grasp, though not long after, you were being woke by the sounds of birds chirping outside the window. Soft sunlight beamed through the blinds, Danny still snoring softly next to you. Thinking this was as good a time as any, you slowly got up, moving as little as possible so you didn’t wake him. You were halfway through tugging your jeans back on when his voice stopped you.

“What are you doing?” Danny’s voice was lower than you’d ever heard it, sleep laced through it making it rasp as he lifted his head up from the pillow.

“I was gonna head out,” you smiled sheepishly, finishing fastening the button on your jeans. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Fuck that,” Danny reached out towards you, and without thinking you moved to the bed, sitting down on the side you slept on. “You’re not leaving, not until we have breakfast, at least.”

“Danny-“

“I’m tired of the bullshit,” Danny told you, blinking the sleep from his eyes, though his voice still held traces. “I want to be with you. I don’t want to be casual anymore, I like you, and I want to have something with you. What do you want?”

You took a few moments to register what he was saying, but once it hit, you couldn’t help the grin on your face.

“I want that too, Danny.” you nodded. Danny sat up in the bed, bringing one of his large hands to the back of your neck and pulled you down to him in a kiss. He kept leaning back until you were practically on top of him, giggling as he kissed you. “Does that mean I get to stay over more often?”

“Every night you want to,” Danny whispered back.

“Good, I liked waking up next to you.” he smiled at the comment, and you continues. “And your morning voice is so hot.” Danny laughed, the sleep gone now, but the sound was still etched in your brain.

“What?”

“Seriously! It’s the hottest thing I think I’ve ever heard.” Danny, knowing he was fully awake now, tried to lower his voice, but couldn’t quite get the rasp again. “It’s okay baby, how about you try and wake me up later tonight with it?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

💖💖💖

#danny wagner #danny gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner x reader #writing prompt #soft gvf thoughts #greta van fleet fluff #gvf fluff #I hope you like it Allie my beloved!!!#allieisacrybaby

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deaddie-munson · 1 year

Text

Video Killed The Radio Star

Joseph Quinn x Reader

18+ (Minors DNI or I’ll hex you and that’s a promise)

Angst, slow burn, strangers to lovers, femme AFAB reader, eventual smut, mentions of drug use (Weed, Nicotine, alcohol.), Mentions of past abuse, reader is a radio host, reader is from Canada, use of Y/N, more to be added as things progress.

AN- Hi! This is the first fan fiction I’ve written since middle school. you can let me know if you want to be on a tag list. I work full-time and have adult responsibilities so I will try to write chapters when I can, but there will likely be some inconsistent posting. Just trying fic writing again to get my creative juices flowing.

Chapter 1 “You’re Hired”

---

“Come on Y/N, you need to get back out there eventually.” Alex said, snatching your phone out of your hand and holding it away from you.

“No, Alex, I do not need to get back out there,” you said making air quotes. You tried to grab the phone back, but you couldn’t reach it as she held it over the aisle of the bus.

“I’m downloading tinder and making you an account.” Alex said turning the phone towards you to use your face ID. “You need to find at least a fling while you’re on this trip. All the guys would melt at your voice in an instant, I know it.”

You sighed and held your head in your hands. You weren’t ready to move on yet, thoughts of your ex still swirling around in your brain. He dumped you 7 months ago, but that was the kicker. He. Dumped. You. You were still very much in love when it happened. No, he wasn’t anywhere near perfect. He was a little controlling at times, but you loved him. He had you hook, line, and sinker. Then, out of seemingly nowhere, he kicked you out of your shared apartment, and you were forced to sleep on Alex’s couch. It was older than you with springs poking your back the moment you shifted your weight even the slightest.

“I think I should, I don’t know, get settled, and maybe get my own apartment before I jump into that, Alex. Seriously, I don’t want a relationship right now, and I don’t do hookups.” You gave her a cold stare as she was going through your camera roll, trying to find the best photos to put on your profile.

“Y/N, holy shit you look smoking hot in this.” Alex stared at the photo in question. It was a photo from Halloween, Your Playboy bunny costume leaving little to the imagination. It was 3 weeks after your breakup, and after not being allowed to show your body off for 3 years you decided to say fuck it. You thought taking a guy home would help soothe the pain you felt in the pit of your stomach, but after 3 minutes of grunting while you lay underneath, stiff as a board, it was safe to say hookups were not your cup of tea after that.

“I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about me. I’m not looking to hook up with people, Alex. That night made me realize that.” You sighed as you stared out the window, the streets of London bustling as you rode from the hotel to your job interview.

“Well this could be a fresh start for you, Y/N. No one here has a clue who you are. Maybe all these British men are sex gods or something. Everyone knows everyone in our town, this place is worlds different. A lot easier to avoid the ones that finish in 2 minutes.” Alex laughed at herself, thinking she was a comedian as you keep a close eye on the bus stops.

“We’re here, Alex. Now give me my damn phone.” You said, snatching it out of her hands. She turned to you with puppy dog eyes. You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at her as you pushed her to get up and off the bus.

“I still can’t believe you got a job interview in London, and they were so insistent on meeting you in person that they let you take me.” Alex raved as you walked the last few blocks to your destination.

“I know, it was a little strange. I thought they would just do everything online since I certainly didn’t have the money to fly here myself,” you slow your pace, taking in the city surrounding you. You sigh and look at your best friend. “I just needed any excuse to get out of that town. It was too much pain for me to stay. I’m just glad the station let me take the remote gear so I can still do my show. ‘Y/N live from The Big Smoke.’”

“If you get this gig that means you are moving to another continent, and I’m never going to see you again.” Alex pouts.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You’ll be taking plenty of vacations here to see me. Not like you need to pay for a hotel, you can sleep on whatever shitty couch I grab off the side of the road,” you laugh.

“Okay, rude,” Alex retorts. “I just mean I'll miss you, Y/N. I won’t know who to do tequila shots at the bar with anymore.”

“I’m sure lots of guys will want to do shots with you. Maybe other stuff too...” You chuckle to yourself as you see the building come into view. “I think this is it. Looks pretty swanky.”

You press the buzzer and an older lady answers. “104.5 The Surge, how can I help you?”

“Um, Yeah, Hi. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here for my interview with George Thomas for the Program Director Position.” You feel your heart pick up speed and your hands are suddenly clammy.

“Don’t be nervous, Y/N. They will love you, I promise.” Alex whispers. She could see your body tense, clenching your jaw and grinding your teeth together as the lady on the intercom responds.

“Oh yes dear, we were expecting you. I’ll buzz you in.” The door unlocks and you hold the door open for Alex to step through. Giving her a wide-eyed expression so she knew how much you were panicking.

“Just breathe. You’ll be fine,” Alex said as you step into the lobby. The walls were a rusty orange, autographed records and photos covering the walls. A locked trophy case filled with awards catching your attention as you stepped towards it.

“Is that a grammy? Wow, I wonder how they got their hands on that?” You looked in awe at all the awards and slowly walked to the desk where the lady from the intercom sat, Typing away while humming the song faintly playing in the background.

“Y/N, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name! George has not stopped talking about you since your first interview.” She beamed up at you.

“Really? Oh, well, I guess I’m glad I left a good impression.” You played with a hangnail on the side of your thumb, focusing on anything but the fact you were about have a job interview for the opportunity of a lifetime.

“George will just be a few minutes, because one of his meetings is running a little late. If you want to take a seat over there by the fireplace He will be out soon and come to get you. If you need anything in the meantime, my name is Cynthia.” She gestured to the opposite side of the lobby where there were a group of green leather couches, looking pristine and comfortable.

“This sure beats your couch, huh Alex.” You plop down on the couch with a thud, feeling the plush memory foam of the cushion allowing you to sink into it.

“Well you won’t have to sleep on any couches if you get this job.” Alex quips back.

A familiar voice comes into ear shot. Very low and gravely with a very posh accent. “Well, I’m glad you could stop by to interview for the podcast before you fly out. We really appreciate your time,”

Another voice, that sounds much younger responds, a pretty accent on him that made his words sound like silk. “It’s really not a problem, I always remember where I started, George.” He sounds... Familiar. No one else was ever in your online interviews, so you can’t pinpoint who the voice belongs too.

The older man you recognize swoops around the corner and sees you and he stops in his tracks. “Y/N! I’m glad you made it! I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

“Absolutely Sir, take your time.” You said, a little more chipper than you wanted it to come out.

“Oh, call me George,” he says as he continues towards the door. The man behind him follows around the corner and you recognize him immediately. You look over at Alex and her jaw could have been on the floor.

---

On the plane ride from YHZ to LCY the two of you decided to watch the new season of Stranger Things since it just came out and you needed something that would last you at least a good chunk of the ride. You downloaded them on Netflix the night before you left and started watching together on your iPad while it was propped up on the tiny tray table. You were watching together in silence until you saw a new character being introduced.

“Ooo... A new person? I’m interested.” Alex says as she leans in a little closer to the screen. When the face from behind the magazine appears, she backs away from the screen and slumps back in her seat turning to face you. “Damn I was hoping for another Steve Harrington to thirst over, what do you think Y/N-”

You were staring at the screen. Mouth agape, eyes fixed on the man on the screen in front of you.

“Y/N. Really? Joe Keery exists and THIS is who you see and immediately have the hots for?” Alex teased.

“I do not!” You hit her with your elbow and paused the show.

“I never knew you were into freaks, Y/N.” Alex laughs pretending to wipe drool from your mouth with her sleeve.

“Wait was I seriously drooling?” You grab your phone to look at yourself in your camera.

“HA! Gotcha! You do have the hots for him.” Alex laughed, trying to contain herself so she doesn’t annoy everyone on the plane.

“I need to find out who his actor is as soon as we land,” you said.

---

You sat there in shock, and looked at Alex who was still sitting beside you. Eyes wide and mouth wide open. You elbow her and she comes back to reality, smoothing her hair and adjusting her posture so she looked as pretty and feminine as possible.

“Y/N, this is Joseph Quinn. I don’t know if you’re a Stranger Things fan but he has just had his big break as their new addition to the main cast,” George said. Gesturing to Joseph. He was blushing at his introduction, not being used to celebrity status yet.

You get up from your seat on the couch and start panicking immediately. You weren't mentally prepared for this interview, let alone meeting the man who somehow awakened something in you hadn’t felt in 3 years. “Yeah um hi, it’s nice to meet you Joseph. I’m Y/N Y/L/N since I guess we’re on full name basis here.”

He chuckles at your introduction. Oh my god he thinks I’m funny. “Oh, just call me Joe. It’s lovely to meet you Y/N, and this is?” He said gesturing to the girl beside you. Once again, she is stiff as a board with her mouth wide open in shock.

“Well, this is Alex. She is a big Stranger Things fan so I think she might be a little star struck right now,” you giggle as she comes to from hearing her name. She gets up and rushes over eagerly, taking Joe’s hand in a firm (and probably a little too enthusiastic) handshake.

“I can already tell you're not from here, so what brings you to The Surge? New project you’re chatting with George about?” He said taking in your features as he talks. Your head looks at the ground while you laugh, but you can still feel his big brown eyes on you. You felt a little weak in the knees.

“Y/N is here from a small town in eastern Canada, and she is actually interviewing to take over my position. I’m moving into a less hands on roll I can do from home as I ease myself into retirement,” he said. “I can’t wait to be able to travel with Rhonda and do the things we’ve talked about before we get too old.”

“Well that’s lovely, George. You deserve it. Good luck with the interview, Y/N. I may be seeing a lot more of you.” Joe said giving you a smile and reaching out his hand to shake yours. You were now acutely aware your hands are very clammy. You quickly rubbed your hand on your pant leg and he cupped your hand in between both of his, feeling something light in your hand as you closed it into a fist, and stuffed it in your pocket to look at later.

“C-can I get a photo if you don’t mind?” Alex said, holding her phone out to you.

“Uh, sure absolutely,” Joe said, wrapping an arm around Alex as you back up and snap a photo of them.

“One of those should work,” You said to Alex as she steals her phone out of your hand and Looks through the photos.

“Y/N. You better get this job. I want to walk in here to see Joe Keery walking out next.” She whispered in your ear as she walked back to the couches in the lobby.

Joe looked at you and gave you a quick wink and cheeky smile as he headed out the door. George a few steps ahead to open it for him “Don’t be a stranger, Joe.” He said as Joe steps out the door.

“I’ll let you know when I’m back in London!” He calls back, walking to the car waiting for him.

“Alright, Y/N, let’s get this party started shall we? Follow me.” George leads the way to a conference room with a large circular table with 15 chairs around it.

“This is a lot bigger then the board room at my home station,” you said scanning your eyes at all the art and memorabilia that covered the walls, the newest one sitting on top of the table. A framed Hellfire club shirt with Joe’s signature.

“That’s an original from the show,” he brags. “Joe interned here as a kid before he started acting. I always knew he was going to go somewhere. So this is a big deal for us here, but enough about Joe. This is about you. How was your flight?”

“No delays, surprisingly,” you said. Feeling some of the nerves start to dissipate as you sit on opposite sides of the large table.

“Well, I must say, it’s a first for us to be flying someone out for an interview, but with the rave references you got and how much you’ve accomplished in your short career, I can’t help but think you’d be a perfect fit to bring a breath of fresh air back into this station.” George said.

“Wow, well it’s a passion so I try to give my all in everything I do. When you love what you do, you never work a day in your life, right?” You ask.

“Absolutely, and I know I said this was an interview, but I actually just wanted to offer you the job in person,” he explained. “I think you can do a lot of good for this station, and nobody else seems to love the job as much as you do. What do you think about that?”

“A-absolutely I accept. Thank you so much, I will not let you down,” you stutter. Your hands shaking as you reach over the table to shake his hand.

“Now, we will pay for your trip home and back to grab your things, but we have a fully furnished flat ready for you to move into,” he explained. “Joe’s new building had an opening and he just bought all new furniture so he gave his old stuff to us to put in there for you.”

“Joe, as in the Joe I just met?” you asked.

“Yeah, he just messaged me saying you can pop by before 5 o’clock tonight and he will give you the grand tour. Apparently, it’s pretty nice. Don’t worry about the first month's rent either, we will cover that for you, and it’s well within your budget,” he said, handing you a keycard. “This is for the station door. Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

“This is a dream come true, truly. Thank you for this opportunity, I am so excited to start,” you said.

“Well, I think you have a friend in the lobby waiting to hear the good news!” George holds the door open for you and you step out, walking down the hall to see Alex in the lobby. She looked at you with a hopeful gaze and you slowly revealed the key card from behind your back. She immediately jumped out of her seat and hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around.

“My best friend is a radio star!” She squealed.

“Yeah right,” you rolled your eyes when she put you down. “We will see about that.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. You as well, Alex. I’ll walk you out,” George said. Gesturing for the door.

You dug in your pocket and felt what Joe put in your hand earlier. You pulled it out and noticed it was a gum wrapper. Confused, you unravel it to see a note written in red pen.

My number is on the back. Call me and I’ll show you the best place for a celebratory drink. Congratulations.

#joseph quinn #eddie munson #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things #eddie munson fic #joseph quinn fic #eddie munson x reader

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multifandomnonsense · 6 months

Note

Mishanks with a combination of prompts from the list maybe? "you're shivering", mugs, sharing blankets, and bear hugs :)

Mihawk had never meant for his meeting to go that long. He’d never liked meetings that went longer than originally scheduled, but he normally wouldn’t have a problem besides some slight annoyances. Tonight when his last meeting of the night ran long he no longer had a way to get home. His car had broken down and ended up in the shop, leaving him to take the bus or call an Uber. He’d missed the last bus by a few minutes so the first option was out. It had also started to snow, think snow that started to build up quickly, so his Uber driver canceled due to the threat of icy roads and low visibility.

He’d tapped his phone, attempting to request a car, but none appeared as available. The snow really had started to get thick so no matter how annoyed he was, he couldn’t blame them for not wanting to drive in these conditions. Unfortunately, that still left him standing out in the snow at the bus stop, his suit and thin coat doing little to keep out the cold. He was beginning to consider giving up on getting a car and taking the 5-minute walk back to the office. He could crash on a coach, which would be preferable to standing here despite being something he would never consider under any other circumstances, and then find a way home when the snow let up. Was he really that desperate? Maybe he had a friend who lived near her whose house he could stay at for the night. If only that list wasn’t so short. There was only one person he could think of nearby but that was out of the question.

He glanced at the other side of the street at the front window of a bar with a big sign hanging over us declaring it ‘Partys Bar’. He knew Shanks worked there, but he definitely didn’t think friend was the right word to describe their relationship. Shanks pissed him off more than anyone else, but somehow he found himself in bed with the other man. They’d attended high school together and often seemed to run into each other still. Somewhere along the way he’d learned Shanks worked at that bar and his apartment was above it.

Before he realized it, he found himself standing out front, not sure if he should try to go in. The last time few times they’d spoken they got drinks and ended up hooking up, which he wasn’t sure was grounds to ask for somewhere to stay. Honestly, this option might even be worse than staying at the office. Shanks was absolutely insufferable and he would probably make fun of him over this forever.

“Well this is definitely a surprise,” said a voice he knew too well from his left as the door to the bar was pushed open. “What brings you here in such awful weather, Hawkeyes?”

Continued on AO3

#one piece #sky writes stuff #fanfic #fan fic #dracule mihawk #red haired shanks #mishanks

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sadlyghost · 2 years

Note

platonic marc and steven from moon knight with daughter reader (but gender neutral reader please) where the reader is a teen and comes home drunk or stoned or smth and marc and steven take care of them. maybe the reader forces the boys to dance with them befoŕe they sleep? up to you, thank you!

Summary: After drinking alcohol for the first time at a party, you quickly regret it. Luckily your dads are there to take care of you.

Pairing: Steven Grant / Marc Spector x (platonic) Teen Daughter Reader

Words: 1500

Content Warnings: Alcohol, minor panic, being drunk, slight peer pressure.

Gif Caption - "Hopefully you'll be feeling better soon"

You had been invited to a party by some students from a higher grade at your school. You had hesitated in accepting the offer because only one of your friends were going, but you had ultimately decided that this was an opportunity that you didn't want to miss. You couldn't imagine yourself getting invited to any more of these 'cool people' parties, so you wanted to experience it at least once.

However, that didn't seem to of been a good idea, considering that you were currently awkwardly standing at said party, all alone, yet surrounded by people you'd never spoken to before. The one other friend you had gone with had spontaneously decided to speak to some other people, which left you at a loss of what to do.

Some older students had spotted you just hanging around and walked over, chuckling in amusement as they handed you a red cup.

"Uhhh thanks?" you say in confusion as you grab it, sniffing the liquid and wondering why the older students were even talking to you.

"Try some, you'll have more fun if you do. We don't want people moping around, its ruining the vibe" they explain. You swish the liquid around, inspecting it.

"What is it?" you ask softly. They all chuckle to eachother.

"It's alcohol. Vodka and juice, all the people here are drinking it. Have you never had alcohol before?" they explain and inquire. You shake your head in embarassment. They just laugh, patting your head jokingly, making you feel small and immature.

"You'll have lots of fun tonight then. That'll be enough to get you drunk super quick" they say as they walk off.

You spent a while assesing all of your options and considering trying the drink they gave you. You weren't lying, you had never had alcohol before and you definitely weren't planning on it tonight. But everyone else was drinking this, and they all looked like they were having fun. You're friend had ditched you and you didn't know what else to do but mope around until your dads picked you up.

You ended up deciding to give it a try. It couldn't be that bad right?

Turns out that small amount of alcohol could get you more drunk then you had prepared for. Instead of all the other students who were embracing being drunk and having fun, you stood in the corner, wide eyed as you stared out at the room. You didn't want to move. Your body felt like honey, like if you took a step you'd just collapse onto the ground. It was freaking you out to be honest. This was not what you had planned for at all. Alcohol was supposed to make you have fun, not make you scared.

You tried to call your dads to pick you up, but your vision was so blurry and your brain was so unfoccussed that you could hardly navigate your own phone.

You decided that leaving was what you needed to do. You had made a mistake by drinking that and you just wanted to go home. There was absolutely no point in you staying after your friend had ditched you.

Luckily there was a bus stop just down the street, so afer stumbling there, waiting and practically pulling your body on the bus, you were on your way home.

You somehow made your way back to your apartment and shakily walked in, feeling spacey and tired. Steven, who was cooking dinner in the kitchen moved his head to see you at the door.

"Y/n? You're back already? I thought we were going to pick you up in an hour or so" he voices as he pulls off his oven mits. Steven walks over to you and frowns at your slightly distant eyes.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asks in concern. You look up to him and gulp, you didn't want to tell him what happened, but was hiding it even an option?

"I dran' alcohol" you slur out without thinking it through enough. You frown at your pronunciation. Why couldn't you say it properly? Steven looks down at you kind of shocked. He hadn't expected something like this tonight.

"You...drank alcohol?" he repeats back to you clearly. You just nod, your head feeling heavier by the minute. He looks you over, inspecting your eyes and your body language

"Do you know what type and how much?" he asks. You shrug.

"The vodka stuff and I don' remember how much" you inform him openly, currently having no filter at all.

His stance changes slightly as he crosses his arms and looks down at you, your brain is too spacey to notice.

"What were you thinking?" Marc asks, voice sterner than Stevens.

"I though' alcohol wa' supposed to be fun" you say honestly. Marc just shakes his head at that.

"Only sometimes. But you shouldn't be drinking at this age and you definitely shouldn't be drinking at parties full of students older than you. Who knows what they could do" he grumbles seriously. You just sway in your spot slightly as you almost dose off.

"Woah, woah. You alright there?" Steven says as he puts his arms on your shoulders. You just mumble something incoherent in reply.

"Okay, lets get you to the couch why don't we?" he says as he leads you to sit down. He goes off to grab some water and a damp cloth which he places on your forehead. You just stare at the ceiling as he takes care of you.

"I'm going to murder whoever pressured them into this" Marc says to Steven.

"It might have been a choice as well. Regardless, save the lecture for tomorrow please. Spend tonight considering what you were like at that age - curious and eager to fit in I'd guess?" Steven reasons quietly, you not even paying attention to his words at the moment. Marc grumbles but doesn't say anything, letting Steven know that he was indeed right.

"But they're too young for this" Marc pipes in again. Steven nods in agreement.

"I know. But I'm sure this incident has given them perspective don't you think? I don't assume we'll be dealing with this again any time soon. They have to learn some way, lets just hope they understand now" Steven says. You just squirm on the couch, feeling uncomfortable.

"Do you need anything?" Steven asks you kindly. You sit up and look around. Everything still felt so unreal to you, so you just flop back down onto Steven. He catches you, feeling suprised.

You just lay there before you start playing with his shirt. It felt so soft and nice. You moved your head back a bit to look at the fabric with wide eyes. Steven watches, wondering what you were doing.

"You're sooo soft pa" you say in shock. Steven holds back his laugh at your words and what seemed to be amazement at the simple fabric of his shirt.

"Oh my god, they are so drunk" Marc comments, forcing a voice of dissaproval as he also hides the amusment in his voice.

You stand up and pull Steven with you. You hold his arms weakly and begin swinging them around. He just goes along with it.

"What are you doing?" he asks curiously, still slightly amused by your drunk actions.

"Dancey danceyy" you laugh as you imitate some tap dancing, very badly. Steven had to make sure you didn't fall since your balance was currently non-existent. At least your mood had gone up though.

"Dad come dance wit' mee" you say, still swinging your arms about and humming some random tune.

Marc fronts and goes along with it as well.

"Did you guys take dance classes? This is soo unfairrr" you complain, a little discouraged that your body isn't moving like you want it to.

"I think you're just a little out of it" Marc says truthfully. You continue trying to dance though, regardless of your horrible moves.

"Daa dun ta daa" you sing to yourself as you bust another horrible move. Marc snorts softly.

"Wow, maybe we do need to get you some dance classes, this is truely something" he says in amusement. But you were vibing, so it didn't matter in the moment how good you were at dancing.

Eventually you slowed down though, and your dancing came to a halt. You just leaned forward onto Marc.

"'m sleepy" you mumbled. He patted your back softly and nodded.

"Okay, lets get you to bed" he said, acting like he did when you were much younger and he actually did need to put you in bed like this. You just complied as he picked you up and carried you to your room.

He lay down your sleepy body and placed the blankets over you. He then sat on the end of your bed and waited for you to fall asleep so that he was sure you were okay.

"Thanks dad..." you whispered out tiredly. Marc just looked at you as you rolled over to get comfortable, eyes already half closed as you dozed off.

"And thanks pa" you thank Steven as well. Marc sighs. You made a mistake, but you were going to be just fine, he was sure of it.

"Your welcome kid" he replies softly.

~~~

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope this turned out close to what you imagined. I did try adding some context to the situation, so sorry if that ruins this! Also fun fact, I've never actually been drunk before, even though I'm legally allowed to in my country. So sorry if this is wildly inaccurate! I'm mostly going off what I've seen in movies and stuff. To anyone reading, please don't take a drink from someone, especially if you don't know whats in it. And try not to succumb to peer pressure, you have control over yourself and your own life. Stay safe everyone :)

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sirsell · 2 years

Text

Bonding with Maria

Quick Authors Note: This is part 4 of New Home. It can be read as a oneshot.

I'm a lot more active on wattpad so if you want check my wattpad out.

Also English is not my first language if you find mistakes please let me know and I'll try to correct them as soon as possible.

Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff × Maria Hill

Y/N Your Name

You were walking out of the school, looking over the parked cars to see if your mom was there to pick you up.

Since the whole alien invasion last year she was quite busy and didn't always have time to pick you up, so sometimes Maria came or you took the bus home. She had gotten you a cellphone to use in case of emergency when you were home alone.

Looking around you didn't see your mom or her car, so you started walking towards the bus. Taking the bus was something you really disliked. The other kids were always loud and none of your friends rode the same bus you did, so you always ended up sitting next to kids you didn't know.

When the bus started driving you checked your phone for a message from your mom, only to see that she hadn't texted you, but Maria had.

'Hey sweetie. Your mom had to leave for a quick mission, she should be home soon, but she asked me if I could stay with you till she's back. So I'll be over as soon as I'm finished.'

Then another message. 'Do you know what you want for dinner?' You felt a little sad that your mom left again and this time without telling you, but you knew that she wouldn't do that if she wasn't really stressed and busy. Also you were kinda excited for Maria to stay with you, since the two of you got along really well and she was over every other day to hang out with you and your mom. Nobody else in your life was as present as Maria, apart from your mom of course.

So you quickly texted back. 'Hey ria, we could order pizza and watch a movie. Do you know when mom is back?' You pressed send and waited for her answer, while you mindlessly scrolled through your phone. The kid next to you was looking at your screen as well. "Is that the black Widow? How did you meet her?" You looked up in surprise. You knew that your mom was an avenger, but people rarely recognized her on the street with you. But this kid had recognized from a picture of the two of you, you on her lap she had wrapped her arms around you and you were both beaming at the camera. "Uhm now that's not her." You quickly answered and turned off your phone. Only two more stops. "Are you sure she looked like her?" The boy asked and once again. "That was my mom. She looks a lot like her, she gets asked for pictures all the time, even though she is not Black Widow." You felt bad about lying to him, but you didn't want anybody to know who your mom was. "Ohh okay." The bus stopped again and a few kids got off. "My names Will. What's your name?" "Y/N." You replied shortly. The bus started driving again and you readied yourself to get out of the bus and away from that noisy boy. "I'm in fourth grade. I think you are too. I saw you in one of my classes." He explained as if he wasn't bothered by your clear disinterest in the conversation. "Yeah I am." The bus took the turn onto your street and you got up grabbing your bag. "Oh this is my stop too." The boy said happily to get to talk more.

"Great." You mumbled as the bus stopped and the two of you got off. Your home was just a bit up the street and apparently Will's home was as well, since he just walked next to you as you walked on the sidewalk. He was talking the entire time. "My favorite Avenger is Thor. He's so cool. He can fly and with his hammer he can make lightning come down and crash onto his enemy's. Who's your favorite avenger?" You thought for a second, you couldn't say your mom or her code name,because then he would be suspicious again, so you named the next best thing. "Hawkeye. He is really skilled." You answered, smiling as you remembered your Uncle Clint teaching you how to shoot an arrow, while Auntie Laura and your mom played with little cooper. You adored your baby cousin and Auntie Laura was pregnant again, so very soon you'd have another cousin.

"But he's boring. He just shoots arrows. He doesn't have any powers." "But that means he relies on skills rather than fancy powers or suits that could just stop working." You held against it, as you stopped in front of your house and pulled out your keys.

"Bye Will." The boy looked sad to see you go, but he waved and continued his way down the street. You made your way upstairs and into your apartment. As suspected your mom wasn't here, neither was Maria or anyone else. You sighed and decided just to do the homework you had.

When your phone started ringing you picked it up, in your mind still focusing on math. "Hello?" "Hey Sweetie. I'm on my now. I'll pick up some pizzas on my back. Do you want Y/F/P?" "Yes please. Oh and can you get ice cream too?" You heard the woman on the other hand chuckle. "Yeah I'll get you some ice cream, but don't tell your mom. She'll not be happy." You giggled, but agreed with her. "I'll be there as soon as possible." She answered and you smiled. "See you soon sweetie." You finished up with your maths homework and just before you finished the door unlocked, looking up you saw your favorite brunette.

"Hey sweetie." "Hey Ria." She came over and set the food down, before pressing a kiss on your forehead. "I'm so happy to see you." You smiled at her and gave her a hug. "I missed you too." She smiled and looked over your homework. "How is your homework going? Everything finished?" You shook your head. "Uhm I'm almost finished with maths and I kinda need to finish my history text." She nodded. "Okay you finish up with your work and then we can have dinner, watch a movie and cuddle okay?" You nodded and finished up your maths homework, luckily there were only a few equations left. "I'm done with math. Can you check it please?" The brunette, who had been working on her laptop, looked up and nodded. "Yeah of course. How about you get started on your history work while I check this." "Okay." You pulled out your history workbook and finished up the work. Once you were finished with history, Maria explained that you had made a mistake on one of the math exercises. "See you 6/12 is the same as 1/2 so you can just do it 4/2 multiply that way." She explained. "That makes it a lot easier and then you don't have to multiply 4/2 by 6 and get confused by that." You nodded and redid that one exercise. "I got it." You smiled as you showed it to Maria, who gave you a soft smile. "Now how about dinner?" "Yes please. Can we watch a movie while eating?" She nodded and ten minutes later the two of you were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie Maria chose and eating your favorite pizza. "Ria? Do you know when mom is coming home?" She sighed. "Now I don't know sorry. There was a really big and important mission, all the Avengers had to go and I'm not sure when they'll be back." You suddenly felt very worried. "Will she be okay?" "I'm sure she will. Everything will be okay." She mumbled and pressed a kiss on your hair.

For the next few days you and Maria hang out. You went to the park and played soccer together, you baked cookies and right now you were drawing portraits of each other. But then her phone rang. "Hill."

She looked at you and quickly left the room, talking to the person on the other end. But then she came back in. "Hey sweetie. I need to talk to you okay?" She kneeled down in front of you. "Something happened and Natasha got taken. But everything's okay. Clint is already trying to find her and it's gonna be okay." You felt your breathing get quick and your eyes tearing up. "Everything's gonna be okay. Clint is gonna find her okay?" You nodded but you still cried into Maria's shoulder. She just held you, while you cried, before she decided to pick you up and place you in your mom's bed, where she laid down next to you. You don't really remember what happened after that, but some time later you woke up. "Hey honey. Clint called some time ago.They found your mommy and they are already on their way to get her." You nodded, feeling a bit relieved.

Maria didn't tell you about what was going on in Sokovia, her only goal right now was to make sure you were safe, till Natasha came back to the two of you.

She thought about the secret she and Nat were keeping from you and how they had just decided on how to tell you that they were in love.

"Everything's gonna be okay." And for the rest of the idea you felt like it was. It felt almost normal, like every other day you had spent with Maria. She was keeping you calm by doing arts and crafts, taking a walk through the nearby park and having ice cream.

Then around five pm she got a call while we were preparing dinner. "Okay. Do you want us to come there?" She asked when she came back into the room. "Okay we'll be there." She hung up and turned to you. "Let's go, your mom's almost back in the town. So we're gonna meet her." The two of you put our shoes on and quickly got into the car, driving towards the stark tower.

Maria showed the security guard her ID and he let us in. "Okay sweetie. I know you never met the other avengers, but don't be worried it's okay." We took the elevator up to the landing place. You held onto her neck and watched as the small jet got bigger and bigger until it landed on the platform. A group of people got out. You recognized most of them as the Avengers, but two of them you didn't recognize. A woman with reddish hair and a weird man with red skin. Then you saw your mommy. You wriggled yourself out of Maria's arms and ran towards your mom. "Mommy." She turned her head to you and kneeled down to pick you up. "Y/N." She whispered into your hair.

"I missed you mommy." You said into her hair as you held onto her neck. "I missed you too, baby." You felt her gently petting your hair, holding onto you as if you could disappear. What you didn't know was that this was a major part of the vision Wanda had shown her, but you didn't really mind. Just happy that she was back home. "Hey Nat." You felt your mom look up at Maria. "Hey Ria. Thanks for taking care of this one." "Always Nat. You know that." Your mom adjusted you to sit on her hip, while she pulled Maria into a hug as well. You heard her whisper an 'I love you' tomorrow, looking up at them you see Ria learn forward and pressing a kiss on your Mom's hair.

"Ria, why did you kiss mom's hair?" You asked her and the two adults looked at each other. "Y/N you know how most adults have someone they love a lot. Like when Y/B/Fs mommy and daddy?" You nodded again. "Maria and I love each other like that." She explained and Maria nodded a little. "Really?" You asked. Maria nodded. "Yes we love each other a lot and we both love you very, very much." You smiled at the two grown ups, leaning back into your mom as Maria pulled the two of you closer.

"So Romanoff. Wanna tell us who this one is?" Iron Man asked, looking at you

#blackhill #maria hill #natasha romanoff × child!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanov #maria hill × child!reader

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learningsanctum · 8 days

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April 30th, 2024

(insta: avecpeach)

TW: survivor, suicide attempts, cutting, depression mention and anxiety mention.

"A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people." - Thomas Mann, Essays of Three Decades

I've been writing pretty much since I learned what words are. I can't barely remember a time where I didn't write thus I can't remember a time where I didn't express myself.

Sometimes quietly, pencil on the paper soothing the sharp edges of my soul.

Sometimes loudly, ripping apart pages when I couldn't rip my heart off.

Somehow... always alone.

In high school I had a brilliant friend with whom I could share my ideas with. We talked once a month despite being in the same homeroom* for the whole period of those long three years. Every time we talked it was like a explosion of new ideas and shared knowledge I believe I never had even with the "bestest" of my best friends.

We did also take the same bus back home. Once, after a particular day we spent attached at the hip, we entered the bus and we were talking about the medicines they had to take - because they had anxiety and depression - and somehow the conversation turned back to me.

I joked and said "I particularly have never been medicated nor diagnosed. So if I don't go looking for a problem then I won't have one." and that is a particular common phrase to here in my country, people often use to say they prefer to "avoid a possible headache" and obviously not meant to diminish mental health or anything of the sort.

They were telling me they took those medicines because they tried to kill themselves once, showing me the cuts and bruises in a proud manner as to say "I survived". In solidarity I decided to tell them I also had a problem with cuts back in middle school. That I used to cut myself and couldn't stop, sometimes it was more of an addiction then something to relief some kind of pain. I wanted them to see they could relate to me and I wouldn't judge them for their struggle.

I think their answer to knowing I stopped cutting myself on my own will forever be stuck in my mind, very deeply engraved in the cuts I recovered from.

"You do everything on your own, don't you?"

To be honest I was paralyzed for a moment. The sun filtered through the windows of the bus shining when it passed through their blond locks. The voices of the other kids were muffled all of the sudden and the grass of the field outside the bus windows were too green to be real. The sky too blue to be nice.

Somehow they were the only person I could read without trying from day one. How ironic is this that this ephemeral friendship would be able to read my soul right back to it's core? Just like I did to them.

Writing is what made me bound with them in the first place, so I think its only fair to address them in the same post as I address writing. They were poetry, one of the most brilliant mind I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Yet they had little and huge flaws that made them so real that for moments I felt I could reach her.

I don't think I have ever written about them in such manner, maybe because I was afraid of doing so and discovering some deeply buried feeling in me.

Even if they never know, they are the one who convinced me to follow my dream of being on the navy. They are the one who brought back my imagination in a time I thought I'd never be creative again.

And for that I'm grateful.

Because I don't know what I would be without writing.

Without expressing the deepest wishes of my heart.

Or darkest thoughts of my mind.

Writing might keep me alive but they saved me.

And I don't think they will ever know.

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tagthescullion · 4 months

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Brother In Arms

Fandom(s): Percy Jackson & the Olympians

Summary: Thalia's mother's dead and has left her with an apartment full of bad memories. Luke's now on the opposite side of the war, but he's still there to offer support. Just like when they were on the run. Just what Thalia needs.

Rating: T

AO3 link

Thalia was glad to feel LA’s strong sun after the cloudy weather she’d left behind in New York.

She hated heights but planes gave her a bizarre sense of safety. And they were a lot quicker than trying to cross-country the USA on foot or a bus.

Not to mention there was nobody in the whole universe more unfortunate than her when it came to buses. Not a single time had she been on one and it had been free of monsters.

She didn’t doubt her own ability to deal with whatever nefarious creatures were sent her way, anger made her powerful and the gods knew she was pissed off at everything these days. But the task she was facing was daunting enough without adding irritating stops on the way.

Thalia had decided it was time to face her past.

Or part of it, at any rate.

She was going back to her childhood apartment.

It had been a spontaneous-ish decision. She did have to go back because having found out her mother was dead, that meant everything the woman had owned was now hers —minus the inheritance tax, but Chiron had helped her fix all that legal crap—. Still, it had made the old centaur anxious that she’d be going to LA straight from camp and with no companion.

“Annabeth would be glad to accompany you,” he’d said.

“I don’t think a 14-year-old should be bothered by this,” Thalia had argued. “She’s got a lot going on, let her get settled into the new boarding school, that’s enough of a challenge.”

And she had believed her own words, Annabeth’s schooling had been nonexistent since she was in like, second grade, that girl needed to face the bureaucratic reality of the educational institution.

She would hate it. But more would have Thalia hated to see her mother’s apartment while trying to keep an acceptable façade in front of Annabeth.

Funnily enough, she thought as she took a taxi from the airport —after studying the driver’s face to make sure he wasn’t about to grow claws or any other mythological customisation—, she still had the key. Both for the front door, though the doorman had always been at hand, and for the elevator that would take her to the penthouse.

She asked the driver to drop her off a few blocks away.

Her luggage was nonexistent, only a backpack and itself half-full at best. She didn’t own many clothes that fit her, and while she’d appreciated some of the people at camp trying to offer her their stuff, she doubted many of them had that many clothes to spare.

She’d get her own clothes, she’d told them. What she didn’t add was that Beryl had left her a good amount of money, she’d buy all the shirts and jeans her mother would hate. All of them.

She turned to Don Vicente Road —the street where she’d lived the first decade of her life— while she rummaged in her bag for the keys.

She didn’t really scan her surroundings. Instead, she relied on muscle memory as she walked towards the front door of her mother’s building.

That proved to be a mistake.

“Hello, Thals.”

Thalia had triggered her shield, and had her spear pressed into the attacker’s neck before her bag had even hit the floor.

It took all of two seconds for Thalia’s senses to adjust for her to recognise both the voice and the face in front of her.

A deeper pitch, an accent not quite the same as the one she remembered. His face was older —handsomer, her brain supplied uselessly—, and marred by that distinctive scar everybody at Camp Half-Blood knew to avoid.

Thalia’s resolve hesitated a fraction of a second, and that was enough for Luke to push the point of her spear away from his neck.

She didn’t lower the weapon yet, though. First, she studied him until she was certain he was unarmed. Even then, her mind was too confused to completely let go of the spear.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said.

“To convince me to join you and my senile grandfather into that rebellion you’re planning?”

“No!” Luke shook his head. Then he tilted it a bit. “Yes? No. No, not because of that.” He hesitated another moment. “I wanted to see you. For real, I mean. To have the real you in front of me. To make sure…”

He looked a bit in awe.

It did wonders to Thalia’s self-esteem, she loved being admired, but it made her completely mad that he’d have the audacity to talk to her just like that.

“Go away,” she told him. “Fuck off to your boat or wherever the hell you spend your time scheming.”

He snorted. “I’m not Doofenschmirtz, I don’t scheme.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Right. He’s a cartoon character,” he explained. Calm as ever, as if this was another day on the run, deciding whether Aladdin or Tarzan was a better VHS to own. “He’s a funny guy, he does scheme.”

“A cartoon?” She asked, exasperated. “Could it be one that came out during the seven years I was a tree, perhaps? A tree that you poisoned recently?”

Luke’s face lost its joviality. “There was a plan for that. They’d resuscitate you.”

“I’m not fucking Jesus, Luke!” She snapped. “I didn’t need you to gamble with the life of the only thing left of me!”

He swallowed but he didn’t flinch back from her.

“I was promised that you’d come back,” he said. “It made sense when it was explained to me, and in case you haven’t noticed, it worked.”

“It w— It worked? At what cost?” She frowned. “Annabeth’s life? Grover’s? You put people we both care about in danger, asshole! I chose to give up my life so you and Annabeth could be safe. You had no right to ignore my choice out of selfishness, or the off-chance it might bring me back!”

That hit a nerve. Luke’s face went tomato red.

“Annabeth was never supposed to be on that quest!” He argued. “She’d already gone off the year before into a suicide mission, I didn’t think Chiron would be stupid enough to—”

“Chiron wasn’t even there,” Thalia interrupted. “You sent him away by blaming him for the tree thing.”

“I didn’t blame him for anything, that was your father,” Luke explained, his voice tight. “Besides, gone or not, Chiron made Annabeth promise she’d protect Percy Jackson. He knew she would follow that little shit to hell and back. Literally.”

Thalia gaped at him. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

“What?” Luke sneered. “Chiron’s unreliability? You’ll get used to it if you stay at Camp.”

“Not that.” She rolled her eyes. “You. Your lack of self-awareness. How you’re washing your hands away from any responsibility when you should know perfectly well that if Annabeth had died, it would have been completely your fault.”

He swallowed again and Thalia caught a glimpse of guilt in his eyes.

“You do know.” She realised.

“I never wanted her to be in the line of fire,” he said.

His voice carried so much regret. Thalia wanted to believe it. And she could if she was honest. Luke had always loved Annabeth, Thalia would never doubt that. Affection that Kronos had helped twist into bitterness and resentment, no doubt, but Luke didn’t want to hurt Annabeth, he never had and never would.

“Let’s talk upstairs,” Thalia offered. This was her home turf, she would choose where and when they spoke. “I have to see what mess my mother left there, anyway.”

Luke nodded.

They walked the few yards left to the door that opened to the lobby.

It was still big, impossibly clean, and well illuminated.

It was early afternoon already, and Maxwell, the old doorman —Thalia was surprised he was still there— was slouched in his seat by the front door desk.

“Afternoon,” she said.

#thalia grace #luke castellan #pjo #riordanverse #pjo hoo toa #pjo fic #mis fics #tagthescullion

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twistedturnstill · 1 year

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Turtle Temper

Chapter 2 Y/N Pov

My phone alarm went off. Huh, I don't remember setting my alarm, I thought to myself. Sitting up I blindly searching for the horrible alarm.

"Gah!" I exclaimed as I found it, the light shining bright in my dark room. My phone read 6 o'clock, and lucky me I forgot to charge my phone.

Sitting up I slipped off my bed, feeling around for my lamp light. Finally I found it and flicked it on. My room was still a mess from yesterday, I even left my journal out. Surprised on about my carelessness I quickly snatched it up and threw in the hidden drawer I made into the desk.

I walked over to my dresser various little trinkets scattered across it. I searched threw my drawers looking for my underclothes and a pair of jeans. Grabbing what I needed I looked up quickly in my slightly broken mirror before heading to my closet quickly grabbing a long sleeved shirt.

I head into the apartments bathroom showering quickly and changing as soon as I got out. Gathering up my things I go back into the bedroom. I notice now it's about 6:45 am. I pick up my homework and shoving it in my messenger bag. My stomach growls for food. I walk into the kitchen where my mom is hurriedly drinking coffee and walking out the door.

"By hun! Love you! Have a good day at school!" And with that mom was gone.

It was often like this. I fix myself a small cup of coffee with a little cream and sugar in it. Sitting down to eat what little cereal was left for this week, I open up my phone looking at pinterest. The time passed quickly, soon Vic walked into the kitchen watching the video from last night.

Taking this as my cue to leave I grab my bag dumping my milk down the drain and polishing off my coffee before heading out the door and down the apartment building. The walk to school was about a mile away but was nice enough for me. I hated the bus enough to walk it so. The rush of the city was fully up to speed and the sun was just coming up, it had a peaceful feeling. I walked through the park, a beautiful short cut that takes like 10 minutes off the time.

I got to school early like I usually do. Making my way to my locker I unload my bag of the books I don't need. I head to class after that the halls still mostly empty. First class was Chemistry. I set myself down and look through my notes, though that didn't go too well. I began to wake up more I kept thinking about last night.

The day went by kinda fast because of that. I wonder if I'll see them again. I ought to try and get that video deleted off Vics phone when I get home, I home he doesn't find a buyer. Thoughts of a similar kind floated through my head. Soon I was in my 5th period working on homework finally able to somewhat concentrate. Well that was until someone started talking in my ear.

"Hi! I'm Ellie and this is Jake!" The girl "Ellie" said gesturing to the boy ahead of him. He responded with a wave and a smile.

"Hey. I'm (Y/N)," I respond.

"So are you new here?" Ellie asks.

"Uh, no not really,"

"Oh, how come I haven't seen you around before?"

"I don't know, I mean theres a lot of kids here."

"Yeah true."

"What you got going on? Are you in any sports or anything?" Jake finally chimed in.

"Um no not really, I work part time after school, at the pool though." I say looking back down to my work.

"Huh, that's cool" he said.

We continued to make small talk here and there a before I knew school was over, "See ya!" They called as they left.

I shoved my stuff into my bag rushing to my locker. I grabbed the rest of my things and left, starting the walk home taking my sweet time.

I stopped in the park again, this time setting myself down under a tree to finish studying and homework. When I finally finished it was like an hour later. I finished my walk home getting back at like 4:30. My phone had died in the middle of the day so the first thing I did when I made it to my room was put it on its charger.

I threw my bag on the chair, and flopped on my bed. After laying there for like 5 minutes I realized all was quiet. Vics not home! deciding this as a great time to celebrate I turned on my radio, up almost as loud as possible. Doing a little happy dance I start to pick up my room. Singing along to my favorite songs. Soon my room looked like an actual room. I'd even been happy enough to make my bed!

I turned down my music a bit unplugged my phone from the charger and hung out on my bed in blissful peace. Too bad it was destroyed when I heard Vic get home.

"What do you mean- Fine!" he yelled.

Soon he came marching to my room trying to open my door only to find it locked. He pounded on it telling me to turn off the music.

"Get up off your butt and clean this house! You lazy worthless brat!" He yelled through the door.

Sighing I get up and turn off my music. Vic settled himself back into his chair to watch more T.V. I go around the house picking it up as he asked. As soon as I'm done I grab notebook paper and sketch paper from my room and head up to the roof. This isn't something I normally do but hey now that I've been up here once what's the problem with doing it again.

I lost myself in my work. It seemed like forever before I no longer had any light to see what I was doing. This is when I heard muffled voices from below. I take a look and it was the things from last night! Raphael, Michelangel, Leonardo and the purple one, I never learned his name. I also saw Vic he was beginning to argue with them again. Oh great, why can't he just- oh wait the video!

I picked up my things rushing to the stair well arms full of stuff. I reach my apartment rush into my room dropping it all on my floor before rushing back out and down the stairs again.

I finally made it to the last floor. I stop running to give myself. I get out the door rounding the corner to see Vic being held down by Raph, in the middle of the street. He looked angry and dangerous, making me regret coming outside.

"-or so help me I'll kick your hairy butt all the way to New Jersey!" He yelled raising his fist.

"(Y/N)!! Get this freak off me now!" Vic yelled at me alerting the turtles to my presence. I start walking over to the two, timidly. Michelangelo gave a wave and a smile which I returned and the purple one just started confused at me.

"Guys! It's the Kraang!" Leonardo shouted.

Just then headlights came racing up the road. I stop as I see the headlights, frozen like a deer I couldn't move. This is when Raph finally took notice of me. He jumps up shoving me out of the way. He, however, was still in the vans path. Just before the van hit them Leonardo jumped in pushing them both out of the way.

"Guys they are turning around!" I shout. I may not know them but I could still warn them.

"What are you thinking getting in the way like that?!" Raph yelled at me.

"Let's not let this one get away." Leonardo says,interrupting him, to the team.

I run over to where Vic was laying on the side walk looking for the phone when I hear a crash. I turn and look around. The van ran into the wall.

"Well that was easy," the red turtle says with a smirk.

I stand up staring and the van. The Kraang weren't finished however the van doors open and out they step with their guns. I back up and away from the scene as the turtles jump into action. I kept watching the scene my eyes kind of glazed over. Then I remember Vic and that dang phone! Where did they go? I start looking around to notice Vic had been knocked in the van.

I could go in there and try and get it... wait a second this is way beyond what I signed up for. Why do I care in the first place. I can't help them any more anyway. Raph jumped in the van at this point too. That is when the battle took a turn for the worse. Leonardo got knocked to the ground and was being kicked. And I, being stupid, immediately ran at th guy shoving the man off of Leonardo.

Leonardo jumped up, "Thanks, but stay back, you could get seriously hurt."

Following his advice I back away. Out of no where I see a lazer flash in front of me followed by two more. The first two shots missed but the third would have hit if it weren't for the purple turtle. He noticed and jumped in to help me, and thank goodness for that too. He pushed us out of the way and launched himself to take out that 'Kraang'.

"You good?" He asked.

"Yeah, thanks sorry," I reponded dazed.

"No problem, names Donatello," he said. He looked over to see the van starting, "I think it'd be better if you left now."

"Yeah okay me too. Oh, um, if you can help Vic my moms kind of attached to him." I said starting to turn away.

He gave a thumbs up and ran with his brothers to try and catch the van which still held Raphael and Vic. I watched in aw before heading inside.

I just couldn't make sense of this. What did Vic get himself into? Who were those guys? Why did I care whether or not the turtles got what they wanted and were safe. Maybe because Michelangelo saved me yesterday. What was this mess. I'd finally made it to my bed flopped down heaving a sigh. Wonder if I'll see them again, I hope I'll never see Vic again.

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt x reader #tmnt raph 2012 #tmnt fandom #tmnt donatello #tmnt mikey #tmnt #leonardo #tmnt leo 2012 #tmnt donnie #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leonardo #raph x reader #raph 2012 #raphael #donatello

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mighty-ant · 1 year

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darkwarrior rises, part two

part one

One week ago

Friday is Gosalyn’s favorite day of the week. Partly because it means she has two school-free days to look forward to. Partly because it means she can put off doing homework for those aforementioned two days and can stay up raiding the Cyber Citadel with Huey or joining Boyd for a sleepover at the McDucks.

But mostly, Friday’s are her favorite because that's when she gets to join Drake on patrol.

Barring any word ending disasters, he takes his no-crime-fighting-on-school-nights rule seriously, but when Fridays do come around, he’s always excited to have her join him and doesn’t really try to hide it. Weeks of training, testing new trick arrows, and getting comfortable in her Quiverwing Quack suit, all pay off for three nights a week (two, when they join the Cabreras for their monthly Sunday dinner).

Crime’s returned to St. Canard in the six months since the Fearsome Four came to life and wreaked havoc through the city. What was first a trickle, muggings and break-ins here and there, has turned into a deluge of superpowered villainy, enterprising FOWL agents, and good old fashioned crime syndicates. Which means that in the case of crime-fighters like themselves, they’re kept pretty busy.

“It was just a matter of time,” Drake said once while posing dramatically on a rooftop, the moon a thin, pale crescent behind him. “This city is rotten to the core, always has been, and that perfidious putrefaction is finally coming to light. Like vultures to the feast, they’re back to get fat off the spoils.” He hastened to add: “Not that Mayor Owlson’s community-driven crime prevention hasn’t helped people! But it won’t do much good to stop Steelbeak from stealing the world’s oceans or what have you.”

Drake and Launchpad are waiting for her when the bus drops her off at home, a welcome surprise. It’s not like Launchpad doesn’t already join Drake on most patrols and practically live in the apartment with them (he stays on the couch as far as Gosalyn can tell, but she suspects he moves to Drake’s bedroom once she leaves for school), but last she heard he was joining McDuck & Co. on a trip through the Australian outback.

“I’ve entered the Dreamtime and battled my innermost self like four times already,” Launchpad remarks as he moves around their kitchen with easy familiarity, setting a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches in front of her to eat before patrol. “Besides, I’d much rather battle bad guys with you two!”

And the thing is, Gosalyn knows he means that.

More and more, he ditches the McDucks and their globe-trotting, magical adventures to get beat up with Drake on patrol and stay up watching movies with her. And Gosalyn knows this because whenever they visit the McDucks, everyone acts like they haven’t seen Launchpad in years . Scrooge welcomes him like a son, Della will invariably trap him in a headlock, Uncle Donald will ask how he’s been, and Webby and the triplets usually tackle him on sight. Beakley narrows her eyes at him and asks if he’s been eating enough, and when he laughs she’ll often throw a training punch at his head to make sure he can still block it to her liking.

Launchpad is choosing her and Drake over them in a way Gosalyn’s never known, and it overwhelms her sometimes, knowing that. She’s never been anyone’s first choice before. Her whole life she’s been foisted on people, or dropped into their lives without their say-so.

When her parents died before she could remember what they looked like, Grandpa had no choice but to take her in or let the foster system chew her up and spit her out. Not to say that Grandpa wasn’t the best, because he was. He never made her feel like he was obligated to raise her, or like he could’ve been doing better things with his life. She knows he loves her. But he didn’t ask to raise another kid when he was already in his sixties, and sometimes he’d watch her with glassy eyes and she knew he was seeing the shadow of her mom in her place.

When Grandpa left and never came back, she was dropped into Mrs. Cavanaugh’s group home among half a dozen other hungry mouthed, surly teens like her. The night she finally ran away was the same night she ran smack into Launchpad and Drake.

But Drake asked her to stay. Drake, who had no reason to care once the Ramrod was destroyed and no further obligation to her, asked to be crime-fighting partners the same way he asked if he could foster her, sincere in his halting and nervous way. And she knows by now that Drake is a terrible liar.

“There’s a smuggling ring operating out of Old St. Canard,” Drake says, spreading a blueprint across the kitchen table. He brushes aside a few crumbs from her grilled cheese, giving her a chiding look that she pretends not to see. “We’ve tracked their shipments to this warehouse near the wharf. WANDA could only find physical copies of the building layout, but they should still be reliable.”

Launchpad places a cup of tea by Drake’s elbow, out of range of the blueprint and his usual clumsiness (they’re trying to cut his coffee intake, with limited success). “What’re they smuggling?”

Drake takes Launchpad’s hand before he can completely pull away, squeezing it once in gratitude before he picks up the tea.

“Lots of different things,” he answers. “Exotic animals, stolen Moonlander gold, maybe even weapons. Tonight, they’ll have everything under one roof so it’s imperative that we hit them now and we hit them hard.” Drake takes a sip of tea and points at what looks like a skylight on the blueprints. “I’ll come in through the roof with my usual song and dance. Intel on their numbers is sketchy, I’d clock them at fifteen or so, so Launchpad you’ll be coming in through this side entrance here and staying low until we have a better idea. And Gos—”

Gosalyn munches noisily on the last of her grilled cheese. “Let me guess, stay up high, stay out of sight, and get my Robin Hood on?”

“Took the words right outta my beak, Mr. Hood,” Drake says, ruffling her bangs in the way he knows she can’t stand. He laughs when she swats him away. “There’s a catwalk that runs right under the skylight, so you’ll come in with me. You’ll be our eyes in the sky. That’s your main job. Use your arrows sparingly so you don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get,” Gosalyn drawls. “Now is it time to get dangerous?”

Drake rolls the blueprints back up, sharing a meaningful glance with Launchpad beside him. At Launchpad’s thumbs-up, he grins. “It’s time.”

Now

There’s a flash of red light, a sudden flare in an otherwise black void. Gosalyn dives backward, in freefall, unable to control the movement of her limbs as she goes.

She’s falling—

—until she stops, landing with a hard thud like she’s just fallen out of bed (if her bed were five feet off the ground).

She can’t react quick enough to roll and absorb the shock, so the breath is punched out of her lungs at the unexpected impact. Panic is at the forefront of her mind as she struggles to regain her breathing, willing herself to focus past the pain, like Drake always does.

Safe behind the comforting darkness of her closed eyelids, Gosalyn takes stock of herself like Launchpad taught her to do after a bad crash. She thinks a collapsing interdimensional portal should qualify.

So she wiggles her webbed toes, opens and tightly clenches her fists, making sure every extremity is attached and intact. When Gosalyn opens her eyes, the distant curved, concrete ceiling of Dr. Gearloose’s lab swims into view.

More insistent is the headache hammering away in the center of her forehead, pulsing through her in sync with her heartbeat, like her body’s just one giant bruise. She closes her eyes with a groan. Great.

Her one saving grace is that it doesn’t feel like a concussion–her first and only was near the end of a winning match, when a sore loser slammed her into one of the half boards. She woke up seconds later, nauseous and dazed, to find Drake’s worried face above her, having literally fought his way down the stands to get to her.

This time, she must’ve gotten knocked out by the force of the Super-Collider exploding or overloading or whatever it was that went wrong.

Grandpa!

She saw him in the eye of the portal, Gosalyn recalls with sudden, guilty clarity. She’s positive. Or, 87% positive. What happened to him when the portal collapsed? What if he got hurt? What if he’s more lost than ever?

They need to figure out what went wrong and get started on a new Super-Collider as soon as possible. This time, Gosalyn will move into the lab if necessary. No more messing around and playing superhero with Drake.

She forces her eyes open for good this time and struggles to push herself up off the ground. It strikes her as strange (and frightening and wrong ) that Drake and Launchpad aren’t already in her face, urging to stay down, asking her how she feels, taking her hand and smiling to try and disguise the deep, worried lines around their eyes.

Drake should be chewing out Fenton and Gyro for almost getting her killed while Launchpad tries to distract her and check for signs of a concussion. Fenton would be spluttering profuse apologies at a hundred miles an hour while Gyro blames her for getting too close to his latest genius invention.

But she doesn’t hear any of that.

Gosalyn’s heartbeat is loud in her ears, the only thing she can hear. Even the ocean on the other side of the windows is silent, muted by the thick layers of polycarbonate material.

But maybe everyone else got knocked out, too. That would go a long way toward soothing her pride, and explain why neither Drake or Launchpad are fluttering over her, panicking about traumatic brain injury.

Once she’s sitting up, and the room stops spinning, Gosalyn realizes she’s alone and that something’s very, very wrong.

The Super-Collider has dominated one of the lab’s main platforms for three months now. It’s where they conducted all of their tests, including today’s. It’s where Gosalyn had been standing, right next to Drake and Launchpad.

That’s not where she woke up, though.

It looks like she’s in some far-flung corner of the lab, where boxes of supplies tower over her in careful rows, tables and equipment are covered with protective tarps, and only every third overhead fluorescent is on, casting her surroundings into shadow. The only real source of light is through the thick windows looking out into the bay, where the rays of sunlight that slip through the ocean’s surface cast pale blue, flickering shadows on the walls and floor.

She has no idea how she got here. She doesn't think she’s even been in this part of the lab before.

“H…hello?” Gosalyn calls, for lack of anything else to do. Her mind still feels muddled, and her confusion isn’t helping the situation any.

But her voice just echoes back to her off the high ceiling, and the lab rings heavily with silence in the wake of her call.

Gosalyn tries to think back to the moment before the rift went haywire and blinded her with the red light of her nightmares all over again, red like she never saw red. Could they have been attacked? Steelbeak and FOWL know about the Ramrod. Maybe their spies caught wind of the Super-Collider test? If Drake weren’t checking every week that Bulba was still locked up in SHUSH maximum security, Gosalyn might even suspect him of somehow screwing with the Super-Collider, making sure his former partner and “best friend” stayed lost.

If there had been a villain attack and she got knocked out, it makes sense that Drake would hide her away from the action. But the lab is silent as ever, no sight or sound of a fight at all.

And Drake would never leave her alone.

Finding her legs, she grips the edge of a nearby table and pulls herself to her feet. The lab is no less barren once she’s able to see more of it, but at least the worst of her disorientation has faded.

She reaches into her pocket, pulling out her phone. Maybe something horrible is happening topside and Drake had to leave her behind while they all left to deal with it. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Gyro to run toward danger, though, especially when there are three perfectly good heroes to do it for him.

Her phone is a bust.

She has no signal, and nothing will load on any webpage or app. When she tries Drake’s and Launchpad’s numbers neither call will even go through. Her phone doesn’t even make a sound before the call drops.

She growls in frustration, lashing out at the nearest tower of boxes with a kick. The topmost box shudders but doesn’t fall, though a few metal tools go clattering to the floor.

As the metallic tinkling trails off, Gosalyn realizes she hears a voice coming from the other end of the lab.

“...be right back, I just got a security alert. No, it’s coming from Storage Bay B. I’m already detecting a heat signature. Non-magical, yeah.”

The voice isn't exactly familiar, but it has a wry sort of inflection that makes Gosalyn less hesitant to call out to it. That, and the fact that it belongs to the first person she’ll have seen since she woke up.

“Hello?” Gosalyn shouts again. “Who’s there?” She crouches, picking up one of the bigger wrenches that fell out of the box she kicked. She’d arm herself with her crossbow if someone hadn’t confiscated it from her when she was grounded last week.

“Oh! Hello!” the voice responds, pleasantly surprised. “I work here, don’t worry.” They lower their voice again, like they’re talking into a radio. “False alarm, Fenton. It sounds like a kid. They must’ve gotten separated from their tour group or something.” Calling out to her again, growing louder as they get closer, they say, “Hey there! Are you lost?”

Fenton! Thank god. Whoever this guy is, if they’re talking to Fenton, they’re probably one of the good guys. An intern, maybe? Although she’s certain she would’ve heard Gyro complaining about a new hire before today.

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty lost.” Gosalyn fingers the wrench behind her back, tracking exit points around her. She needs help, sure, but she’s not gonna be stupid about this. Admitting to strangers that you’re lost is Survival No-No: 101 but it’s not like she’s got much choice right now. Worst comes to worst, she can bust the guy’s kneecap with her wrench and book it for the elevator.

“I getcha. This place can seem like a maze if you’re not used to it. I know when I first visited, I had to draw up a map in my JWG—”

The owner of the voice, a white-feathered duck, rounds the corner, only to immediately stagger to a stop. Though he’d been speaking casually, he cuts himself off mid-sentence once he sees her, eyes wide in a rapidly paling face.

Gosalyn stares right back at him, familiarity at war with her confusion.

While his voice is unfamiliar she knows his face. She’d know his face anywhere. And not just from all the sleepovers at the mansion and the occasional adventure.

“Uncle Donald?” she blurts before she can help herself.

Six month ago, the Ramrod was still a smoldering wreck ten stories up and they were sitting on the lawn outside McDuck Labs, awash in spinning police lights with Drake’s cape around her shoulders (he was still just Darkwing then) and Launchpad’s hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles when her chest would go tight again and dry sobs cracked through her ribs, all of her tears already spent.

The kids, Dewey and his brothers (triplets, who would’ve guessed), were clustered together under one big ambulance blanket, until they’re attacked by a mob of people that break through the press, police line and, though Gosalyn didn’t know it, barricade of SHUSH agents. There was a lady with a kickass-looking robot leg, a girl with a pink bow in her hair, and a guy in a sailor suit who spoke in warbles, and they descended on the triplets with laughter, tears, and frantic hugs.

Dewey untangled himself from the dogpile long enough to cling to the arm of the sailor-suit guy, dragging him over to where Gosalyn had been watching them with poorly veiled nosiness. She’s never been part of a big family before. It was always just her and Grandpa. Now it’s just her.

“Hey, Gos,” Dewey piped up, looking tired and a little bruised but still smiling a hundred watt grin because she was his first friend who met him as himself first, instead of one of a set. “This is my Uncle Donald. Uncle Donald, meet Gos! She has a crossbow, y’know. In case you need ideas for birthday gifts.”

Uncle Donald, looking bemused and not a little ragged, still bends down to greet her properly, and Gosalyn was struck by something Launchpad had said.

An adventure family. And its most important member: the uncle.

(‘Uncle Donald’ sounds right in a way that ‘Uncle Launchpad’ never did. He’s not Gosalyn’s uncle, he’s–well he’s Launchpad . He’s comforting silences and orange buttermilk pancakes on Saturday afternoons and the entire cheering section at her hockey games—)

This stranger has Uncle Donald’s face, but at the same time, it’s not him.

He still hasn’t moved, giving her plenty of time to stare him up and down. He definitely looks like Uncle Donald, if Uncle Donald were twenty years younger. His shoulders are broader, and he’s wearing a red sweater vest over a collared shirt instead of a sailor suit. And he has on a red baseball hat.

He’s also staring at her, looking like he’s gonna pass out.

“Um,” she wraps both hands around the wrench at her back, palms slick with sweat. This stranger with Uncle Donald’s face is watching her like he’s afraid she’s gonna attack him , not the other way around. She risks a glance over her shoulder to make sure there isn’t, like, an unholy specter floating behind her or something. With Duckburg, you never know. “Do I know—”

He opens his beak, but no sound comes out. Gosalyn stops speaking anyway, watching him try to form words twice more. His voice shakes, breaks , nothing like the casual cool he’d spoken with mere moments ago.

“Why are you here? Why-why now ?”

It’s a weird question, one she doesn’t completely understand. It’s as confusing as the rest of this. But she tries to explain herself anyway because she doesn’t know what else to do .

“Well, I was just with Darkwing and Launchpad—” the stranger makes a noise like he’s been punched in the gut but doesn’t stop her “—and Fenton and Gyro, y’know, testing the Super-Collider. But now I can’t find anyone and the Super-Collider’s just, gone , and–and who the heck even are you?”

“This isn’t possible,” the duck in the red hat mutters under his breath, like he didn’t even hear her. Or like he very much did. “It shouldn’t–it can’t be. The Solego Circuit was destroyed, we double–no, triple-checked–and I burned the entry in Finch’s journal. Last I checked, the odds of trans-dimensional travel are one million eight thousand three hundred twenty to one… ”

The rambling strikes a deeply familiar, deeply frightening chord in Gosalyn. It grows, like a shard of ice expanding outward, freezing everything in her gut. She’s heard it enough times while playing Legends of Legend Quest, endlessly debating smashing grindhoppers versus battling the goblin lord in the next village over.

She looks at the red hat again.

It couldn’t be. It can’t. It makes no sense.

“Huey?” Gosalyn whispers.

The older duck flinches but doesn’t respond. He raises his arm in front of him, and she realizes then that he’s wearing a gauntlet that resembles the Gizmosuit armor, but red. A holographic screen appears over his forearm and he keys in something that makes it whir and beep. A scanner. She’s being scanned.

Whatever the results are, he looks even more stricken to receive them. He types in the same order. The gauntlet makes the same noise.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Gosalyn demands, less bravely than she’d like.

“One million eight thousand three hundred twenty to one,” he mutters. In a flash, he raises a hand to his ear, voice tight with panic he doesn’t try to hide. “F-Fenton. Fenton, get down here now!”

It’s the work of less than a minute for a hatch to spiral open in the ceiling, leading up into a wide, dark tunnel, which definitely didn’t exist last time she checked. Gosalyn jumps back as Gizmoduck soars out of the hatch, rocket boosters blazing, to land between her and the duck in the red hat.

She should feel relieved to see Fenton. But the Gimzosuit isn’t the one she recognizes. This one’s little sleeker, a little more high tech. Like the red gauntlet.

“Huey!” Gizmoduck says, making Gosalyn’s heart trip, her chest tighten. She was right . But how? How could she be right? “What is it? What’s the matter?”

And the Gizmosuit, it just breaks apart . Like it’s dissolving, piece by piece at a rapid pace, folding back to reveal Fenton. Distantly, Gosalyn tracks the suit folding into a bracer on Fenton’s wrist—nanotechnology, it has to be. But nanotech is nowhere near that advanced. Not for another ten years at least.

And Fenton–Fenton looks different . His hair is longer, hanging by his jaw, still looking like he got in a fight with his hairbrush and lost. He has on a dark purple sweater over his shirt and tie. And he’s older . There are lines around his eyes that weren’t there half an hour ago, crows feet and deep smile lines. There’s a scar under his eye that wasn’t there before.

Before Huey (somehow all grown up, twice as tall as her when she boasted 3 inches over him just yesterday) can respond, Fenton takes in their corner of the lab at a glance. His gaze flickers once over Gosalyn before moving away, to the windows behind her, with familiar superhero speed.

She sees the exact moment realization hits, freezing him in place. Fenton does a double-take, looking at Gosalyn with too-wide eyes.

“Oh.”

He doesn’t seem to be breathing as he reaches for the bracer on his other arm, gripping his wrist so hard that his knuckles go white.

“Oh, hermanita,” he murmurs, almost too quiet to hear. His eyes are shiny, and the grief in his voice terrifies Gosalyn.

Beside him, Huey is a blur of motion, consulting various holographic screens and typing away madly on others. It’s so quintessentially Huey of him to get his act together and leap into finding a solution the minute someone else is in distress, and it would almost be reassuring if it weren’t another glaring reminder that everything is wrong .

“Fenton!” he barks sharply, professional in a way that’s familiar but oh so alien. “I’m not detecting a single molecule of ectoplasmic energy.”

Fenton turns his head toward Huey but he doesn’t look away from Gosalyn. Like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if she does.

“Okay.” he swallows thickly. “What-what about Dark–”

“My scanners aren’t picking up a hint of supernatural influence, not Dark magic or any other sort of spellwork. There are no transmissions coming in or out of here that haven’t already been accounted for. She’s not a trick or a hologram. Check for yourself! She has a heat signature, a heartbeat!” Huey rattles off, undeterred, before he begins to falter. “But Fenton…Fenton I am detecting residual amounts of tachyon energy around her. And…she mentioned the Super-Collider.”

Tachyon energy. Gosalyn knows what that means. Knows, and vehemently denies it.

That’s enough to get Fenton to tear his gaze away from Gosalyn and gape at Huey. “How is that possible?” he demands. “The Super-Collider was torn apart. It’s been sitting in the vault; we’d know if someone rebuilt and activated it!”

“You never activated it, but maybe another you did . That’s how it works, right?”

“In theory.”

Huey scoffs. “Well, the theory just became applied, and she’s standing right in front of us. We have to call Gyro,” he says, in that tone reminiscent of Uncle Donald’s, the one that brooks no argument. “His notes won’t be enough.”

“He barely left on vacation with Boyd,” Fenton protests weakly. “You know how long it took to convince him to take a break.”

Huey frowns harder at him. “We don’t know how long it’ll take to rebuild the Super-Collider and reverse this, if it’s even possible! I have to call Gyro, get him and Boyd back soon as possible. And Dewey, he’d never forgive me if I didn’t tell him.”

Fenton interrupts before Huey can really get on a roll, his own anxiety dulled in the face of Huey’s. It’s all so familiar it makes Gosalyn feel sick.

“One thing at a time, Hue. Isn’t Dewey flying through the Bermuda Trapezoid right now? How about you just focus on getting ahold of–”

“Launchpad,” Huey blurts.

Gosalyn’s heart leaps before she can help herself, the breath catching in her lungs. She looks around wildly, forgetting discretion, that’s how desperate she is for the stability of Launchpad’s casual confidence, his all-encompassing hugs.

But they’re still alone in the lab. After all, what was she expecting to find? Launchpad hiding behind the box of tesla coils?

Meanwhile, Huey and Fenton continue to ignore her but this time while also sharing twin expressions of dismay.

“I-I have to call Launchpad,” Huey says. “We don’t know–I mean, Drake is–” He stops, looking more horrified, if that’s even possible.

Fenton reaches up and squeezes Huey’s shoulder. Is he taller than Fenton? “Call them. Launchpad first.”

Huey nods with alacrity, takes a step to presumably do just that, then stops. He looks toward Gosalyn. Toward, not at. She knows he has trouble with eye contact sometimes but this older Huey’s barely even looking in her general direction.

“Fenton. You’re going to have to tell her.”

When Fenton pales, losing what little composure he’d regained, and grips his bracer again, Huey pins him in place with a red-rimmed glare. When had he started to cry?

“Do you want Launchpad to have to do it?” Huey demands with blunt authority, like she’s never heard him speak to Fenton.

Unbidden, a memory of Drake surges to the forefront of her mind. Of him stopping her from following him into a burning building to help the people still trapped inside. Drake’s hand was on her shoulder, holding her back, and he stared down at her hard with eyes that burned as much as the flames behind him.

“Stay and help out here,” he’d ordered, his voice as sharp and as unbreakable as shards of black diamond, a voice that Gosalyn had never heard before. It was his Superhero voice, only to be deployed with the crap really hit the fan. It was one of only a few times Gosalyn had followed one of his instructions without question or deviation.

Fenton is similarly affected by Huey’s deployment of the Superhero voice, judging by his nod and fragile smile.

Huey risks another glance in her direction before he turns. He turns and runs away from Gosalyn. He hadn’t even done that when she was chasing the boys around the yard with a dead snake she’d found on a stick.

Fenton turns, painstakingly, back to her and pastes an entirely fake-looking smile on his face. “I-I’m sorry. We’re being pretty rude, huh?”

“Fenton,” Gosalyn bites out, after what feels like a small eternity. Her hands are sweaty and shaking around the wrench she’s still hiding behind her back, useless and heavy. “What the hell is going on?”

Fenton is the world’s biggest hypocrite, capable of swearing up a storm and still chiding her for bad language. But this time he just laughs, a broken burst of sound that seems to surprise him.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” He walks over to the nearby window, where boxed up equipment is piled on top of tarp-covered tables. He starts clearing space, placing boxes down and to the side. “Gosalyn, you...Can you tell me how you got here?” he asks, not looking up at her. Dust motes swirl in the pale light glimmering through the ocean’s surface.

A heavy feeling, not unlike dread but more potent, settles over her like two heavy hands pressing down on her shoulders. She lets her hand holding the wrench drop as she moves closer to him, taking a seat on the least fragile looking box. She watches Fenton glance down at the wrench but he doesn’t react at the sight of it.

“We were testing the Super-Collider for the first time,” she explains woodenly. Fenton should know this. He was just there. “We were gonna finally find my grandpa. And-and I saw him. I know I did.” Her voice breaks, and the next breath she takes shudders . Dropping the wrench on the ground, she crosses her arms over her chest, feeling like she’ll fly apart if she doesn’t hold herself together. “I don’t know what happened after that. Maybe I got too close. But the portal went crazy, knocked me out, and I woke up on the floor here.”

Fenton sits down on the other side of the cluttered table as she talks, leaning forward on his elbows with his hands pressed against his beak. Above his interlocked fingers, his eyes are pained.

“So the Super-Collider does work. And it sent you here,” he says quietly. In the pale blue glow of the window, the lines of gray in his long hair shine silver.

Gosalyn makes a show of looking around. The lab is as unchanging as ever. She isn’t even sure if it’s night or day on the surface. She tightens her grip on her sweatshirt. “Uh yeah, where’s ‘here?’”

Her ears are ringing before Fenton even responds, each word laboriously slow, pulled out of him like teeth.

“To our dimension. Here, it’s the year 2035. ”

“How d’you know this is another dimension? Cause it seems like the future to me, with you being old and Huey being…less old.” Falling back onto jokes is easy. Safe. She can almost pretend her heart isn’t slamming against her ribcage, trying to burst out of her chest like something out of a bad B-movie.

Fenton’s answering smile is sad. She’d be inclined to call it pitying (there’s that old chip on her shoulder, hard at work) but she knows him too well for that.

“Well, we never activated the Super-Collider in this dimension,” he says. And there’s some of his familiar sass, but it’s not enough to hide how shaken he still is. His hands are trembling and his eyes keep flitting over her face without meeting her eyes.

Gosalyn shakes her head. “That’s not it. It has something to do with me, doesn’t it? What, am I supervillain in this dimension?”

She’s aiming for a laugh, something to ease the tension. She’s good at making Fenton laugh, high-pitched and snorting. Gandra made fun of him for ages the first time she heard it.

Fenton doesn’t laugh this time. He looks gutted, to be honest.

“What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Seriously?” Gosalyn scoffs. “Cuz the way the two of you look at me, it’s like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The words are innocuous on her tongue, but the moment they leave her beak, plummeting out of the air like stones, she feels impossibly cold, like they wrenched all the heat from her body and left a block of ice in her ribcage instead. Gosalyn isn’t sure her heart’s beating. She can’t even hear her breath.

This version of Fenton looks older than the one she knows, obviously. Moreso with the scar under his eye. But right then, as his shoulders slump and old grief carves new lines in his face, he looks like he’s aged thirty years instead of the fifteen he claimed.

Fenton looks away, raising a trembling hand to his beak. “I forgot how smart you are,” he murmurs. Gosalyn watches him swallow thickly, gearing himself up to speak. He hasn’t looked at her again.

“A week and fifteen years ago, our Gosalyn…well, she…she died. She was on—”

“On patrol,” Gosalyn finishes for him, out of some terrible, instinctive understanding. There’s a roaring in her ears, like she’s plummeting off the side of the McDuck Lab building again, even as her feet are firmly planted.

Fenton’s head jerks up. His eyes are wide when he gapes at her, hope and disbelief mingling on his open face. “It-it already happened for you?”

Gosalyn feels like she’s gonna be sick. She wishes, like a dumb little kid, that this was all just a bad dream.

“Yeah,” she hears herself say. “A week ago. Darkwing…Drake saved me.”

Fenton gives her a trembling smile. “Our Darkwing tried.”

#ant writes #dt au #darkwarrior duck #gosalyn mallard #gosalyn waddlemeyer #fenton crackshell cabrera #huey duck #dimension-hopping shenanigans #bad future au

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divinebunni · 10 months

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How did you meet your husband and fall for each other?

~ we actually met in highschool ~ long story long woop woop

i got on the wrong bus my junior year bc we had just moved houses meaning i had to go to a whole new school. on the first day i was told to find my bus route and take the bus home that afternoon, but the office gave me the wrong bus. the driver, a sweet older lady, said this but then said i’ll make you a stop for this week while they figure it out, never figured it out, and she ended up letting me use her bus as mine.

so a whole year goes by and i sit at the very back, my depression was really really bad, i hardly spoke to anyone and was just super intimidating to try and keep others away. we finally met in August 2013, my senior year and the end of his life as a normal kid / person (he developed a neurological brain-eating virus that made him disabled). one of his friends had a class with him this year and decided since they rode the same bus - to invite my love to the back to meet all of us. (He still tells me to this day all of junior year he would watch me because he already knew he loved me like broooo i lov u)

so we all meet, and that day, the first day i met him, i was so flustered and nervous and i never got like that around people so it was so strange for me. he had these rosy lil cheeks and these deep sad brown eyes and we just connected. i stole his composition book he was holding in his lap and wrote my name and number on the front with a lil heart and we started talking that night (another something i never did, i didn’t date really so i avoided text and call convos, plus i was under constant strict supervision from my abusive parents so my phone was always being taken for months at a time)

SO ! i graduate, we had become close but not relationship close because my life was steady falling apart at that point, and that summer right before i left for college we met up at like 2AM at my neighborhood pool and he begged me to come home with him because i was a mess just talking mad crazy. a whole lot of words and another person showing up unexpectedly later, we are separated and dont talk again for almost 6 months.

i spent 5 of those months in college, my depression getting the better of me and failing out of everything because i just wouldn’t get out of bed. i get a text a month before i drop out - from him. he spills his whole beans, confesses he has loved me for all these years and that he was moving states and wanted to send a final goodbye. i was literally on the toilet crying my eyes out because it finally clicked in my chest that people can love without boundaries or expectations or conditions. i begged him not to leave, a week later tried to take my life and ended up in hospitals for another month. when i finally got out, i knew what my problems were, and i knew what i wanted finally.

i called him hundreds of times to try and convince him to let me spend a weekend with him, a lil sleepover. reluctantly he said yes because he was worried about my mental health but it was the weekend that changed it all permanently. just a few more months later, July 10, i escape my abusive family and move in with him and his family. everyone told us we weren’t ready or that we wouldn’t last, and damn are they all so wrong ~

#ask #bunni answers #i lov my sweet man

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demons-and-demigods · 1 month

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Demons and Demigods Part Eight: Context Before More Plot

Alright, so we're gonna hop back to Sally, Paul, and the Winchester boys for a bit here! Yay!

This part is to give some context about who knows what and kinda what's been going on with these guys while we've been focusing on the demigods along with backing it up a bit to talk about Paul.

Sally had not been told about Dean’s deal and the fact that he only had a year left to live and what-not. Telling Bobby and having Sam find out had been hard enough, and with everything she was going through with her son being missing and then being sent on a deadly quest to try and save the world, Dean figured she had enough to worry about without putting his impending doom on her shoulders too. He made Sam and Bobby swear that if they couldn’t save him, they would tell her it was just a hunt gone wrong, that they wouldn’t tell her about the deal, ever. They did, but only because Dean begged them to. He also begged Sam to stay with Bobby and/or Sally when he was gone, to help them and him deal with his death without doing anything stupid. Sam promised, but only because he insisted that it wouldn’t come to that.

Further down the road, when it does, indeed, come to that, Sam keeps his word and he and Bobby tell Sally that Dean died hunting a werewolf and she makes them both stay with her and Paul since Percy is still at Camp helping rebuild. Ruby doesn’t get her hooks into Sam and so there’s no demon blood junkie arc and no killing Lilith and no Apocalypse gets triggered, and Lucifer doesn’t get free, etc, etc. The angels and demons are still fighting over seals and trying to start the apocalypse, but Sam and Dean don’t go for it. Cas still saves Dean from Hell and rebels against Heaven for him, but he tells Sam and Dean what the angels are trying to do and about the last seal being killing Lilith so they just nope outta that plotline because I said so. But we’re not quite there yet. Gotta finish up some other stuff first.

Now, for Paul and some mortal Thoughts on Percy:

When Percy first went missing, Paul tried to cash in like, all his vacation days at the school to stay with Sally and do what he can to help find Percy and support her and Annabeth, but Goode is the best (because this is my au and I do what I want) and just gave him paid leave after hearing that his step-son had gone missing and likely been kidnapped (again, from the mortal world’s perspective). So the school was just like oh shit yeah no take all the time you need, we’ll keep paying you, we hope you find your step-son and that he’s okay. His colleagues call to check in every now and then, because they’re his friends and are genuinely worried for him and his family and want to make sure they’re holding up okay and they hope that it’s all figured out soon so that he can have his kid safe at home again. Some of them even stop by the apartment with casseroles or other homemade meals to spend some time with him and Sally to support them. 

They both appreciate this very much. And their friends who haven’t met Percy (most of them, because they’re mostly fellow teachers at Goode and most of them either have him in their class but aren’t aware that Paul’s-step-son-Percy is also The Percy Jackson or have never had him in their class) ask Paul and Sally to tell them about him which they are both more than happy to do, they love talking about Percy. More than a few of the teachers however have gone home afterward, googled Percy Jackson, and had a crisis. Because, like, the google results are all over the place. There are articles calling him a delinquent kid and a terrorist suspected of blowing up a couple of buses and also the St. Lewis arch and possibly killing his mother, but other articles say that he was actually kidnapped along with two other kids and the bus and arch incidents were him and the other kids trying to escape. But then obviously Sally is still alive, and her and Paul both talk about Percy like he is the sweetest, kindest kid out there who’s had a really rough life but really he’s just a sweetheart and such a good kid and they couldn’t be prouder of him. Some of them even look through Percy’s school records and find all the schools he’s been kicked out of for fights and explosions and other weird situations that he always seems to be at the center of and the fact that on paper he is clearly a troubled kid with all sorts of issues and a long list of disciplinary problems and they just can’t make it match up with the smiling boy with eyes that look too old on such young features in all the pictures Sally and Paul showed them or with all the stories Sally and Paul shared. 

Look, I just think it’s really funny when Sally and Paul talk about Percy and only off-handedly mention some of the wild shit he’s done that’s literally been on the news and they’re talking about him all ‘oh he’s just so sweet and caring, he’s a counselor at the summer camp he goes to and all the little kids love him,’ and etc. And then, because one of them made an off-hand comment about like, ‘oh yeah, he started going to camp when he was twelve after he got kidnapped and it was a whole thing where the media kept calling him a terrorist even though he was just trying to escape this awful man,’ or whatever and so the friend goes home and googles Percy Jackson and ends up just like, staring at their screen like holy fuck what the hell is this kid. And if they’ve never seen him, from the way Sally and Paul describe him, they’re expecting Percy to be, yknow, a normal looking kid, maybe on the taller end around 5’10 or so, probably with a bright, sunny grin and soft features. And then they meet him and he’s six feet tall at least made of solid muscle and covered in weird looking scars with an rbf that would make the bravest soldier shit their pants. He looks like he was carved from marble with his high cheekbones and sharp jawline and his eyes are unreal in their vivid intensity. His smile is crooked and in the glimpse they catch, his teeth seem too sharp, just a little too perfect. And he has a presence that fills the whole room as soon as he enters it, drawing their attention as their basest instincts begin screaming at them to either run or try to hide. But Sally and Paul are just like ‘hey, kiddo, how was camp,’ completely nonplussed like he’s not a fictional character with a dark past and even darker secrets come to life, like he’s not a manifestation of some dark god from the myths of times forgotten. Godsdammit sorry I got off track talking and thinking about demigods and especially kids of the big three being eldritched.

Anyway, little off track there, but this is my au and my post and my blog so I get to say what I want and I wanted to talk about Percy being Unnerving as Fuck to mortals for a bit because it tickles me.

#dndv #dndv lore #demons and demigods verse #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #sally jackson #paul blofis #percy jackson #goode high school (pjo)

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petri808 · 5 months

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@bkdksecretsanta giftee Doodle_cakess on Twitter or Ig 🎁🤶🏻🎄

First day of Freshman year at a University in Tokyo, Katsuki Bakugou is ready to throw off the image of a child and embrace this new step. He wasn’t always the most mature… and yeah, he did have a reputation as a bully. That all ended in high school, but the label followed him all three years because he was surrounded by people who knew him all his life. Not anymore. This is his chance to start fresh in a new city hundreds of miles away from home and anyone that really knows him.

“Hey, Baku-bro, wait up!” Eijiro Kirishima waves as he gets closer.

Bakugou stops so the man can catch up, then the two continue towards the bus stop. He’d found an apartment close to the campus, but it was a little out of his price range, so he put up an ad on the school’s blog for a roommate and Kirishima had answered. They’d moved in just under a month ago, and so far, the arrangement works. The guy is a bit chatty for Bakugou, but in a way that’s comforting because it reminds him of someone else, he once knew. “I think I’m gonna like my classes,” Bakugou opens the dialogue. “You?”

Kirishima drops his school bag next to the door as he takes his shoes off. “I was worried ‘bout linear algebra, but the guy I sit next to seems super smart nerdy, said he’d help me if I need it.”

“Lucky you,” not that Bakugou really cares, but he is happy for his friend.

College is supposed to include having fun, you know, the whole spreading one’s wings, trying new things, the last hurrah before settling into a career. Each weekend, Kirishima harasses Bakugou to go out with him to the bar, or an izakaya restaurant, or just get out in general instead of being a hermit. Sometimes he relents, but mostly stays cooped up in his room studying if he’s not at his part-time job at the nearby convenience store. Having to work and go to school is rough around test times, but he’s lucky the boss is flexible with his hours. Kirishima also has a part-time job at a restaurant as a line cook. The benefit for the two were the leftovers he’d bring home that helped with their monthly food budgeting.

Kirishima knocks on the door frame of Bakugou’s bedroom. “A couple friends’n I are gonna go to Shiono for drinks, come with us Katsuki,” he coaxes. “I wanna intro you to someone.”

“Who?” Bakugou asks without looking up from his phone.

“The guy from my class,” Kirishima answers, “the one I told you about.”

Bakugou groans. “Why?” What’s so interesting about this nerdy math whiz that requires him to leave the warmth of their apartment?

“Why? Ugh!” Kirishima whines, “why not! Come on, midterm’s over, it’s the holiday season, so let’s celebrate a little. My treat.”

If this conversation is like all the others, his roommate is not going to let up easily. But Kirishima must really want him to go out this time, because he rarely offers to treat. Bakugou rolls his eyes, “okay, fine! But I’m not staying out till super late, I gotta work in the morning.”

“Cool, cool,” Kirishima throws him his coat he’s been holding as if he already knew his roommate will say yes, “let’s go!”

As soon as they step out of the heated apartment building into the winter night, Bakugou pulls the collar up tighter around his neck to block out the cold. Powdery flurries float around, so light and delicate, they don’t last long enough to blanket the ground, but they surely send a chill as they melt down the back of your neck. The izakaya Shiono is a mere three blocks away, through sidewalks lined with lighted trees and cheerful pedestrians snapping selfies to celebrate that time of year. Kirishima chattered away, talking about some kind of amazing donburi bowl with the most succulent pork that melts in the mouth that Bakugou just must try when they get to the restaurant. It did sound good… and he hasn’t eaten dinner yet, so maybe he’ll get that for dinner.

Bakugou knows two of the people that are likely going to be at the restaurant, so the only stranger will be this classmate Kirishima sings praises for. After they step into the restaurant and hand over their coats, the server guides them to a large booth at the back of the room. He admits this is a cozy place, no wonder Kirishima likes it. The atmosphere feels mellow and welcoming, not to mention the air alone smells delicious. Bakugou follows behind his roommate and braces for the meeting. He’ll just have a couple of beers then go home.

“What’up guys!” Kirishima boisterously makes their presence known by posing with his chest puffed out at the front of the table.

The three men in a high-spirited conversation in the booth all turn at the same time, answering back with various responses, smiles, and gestures— that is until one of the men sees Bakugou, and Bakugou sees who the man is. Suddenly, all the air in the room is sucked out leaving a strange void with only the sound of white noise ringing in his ears taking him back in time to a past he’s trying to run from. His eyes widen in a mixture of fear and surprise, voice cracking from the drying throat, “Izu—ku?” Bakugou questions the green-haired young man in the booth. He hasn’t seen Izuku Midoriya in four years.

The night started out so well with the interesting and humorous topic the guys were just talking about. Midoriya instantly deflates into the booth chair with a quiver in his tone. “K-Kaachan?”

Suddenly, Bakugou feels like he’s taken a knockout punch to the gut. Why, of all the people… the one person he never thought he’d see again or rather was afraid to and based on Midoriya’s body language, he’s not thrilled to see him either.

“Whoa! You two know each other?” Kirishima queries in excitement as his attention swings back and forth between the two men.

Ugh! Of course, his roommate doesn’t read the room. “Uh, yeah…” Bakugou mumbles, averting his eyes to the ground. “We were close as kids, but I haven’t seen Izuku since middle.” Kirishima hasn’t picked up on the tension, but the other two people sitting silently in the booth next to Midoriya clearly has if the side-glances to each other are a giveaway.

Kirishima turns to his classmate. “Dude, it’s so crazy that you know my roommate! I’m so glad he finally came out with me!”

“Yeah…” Midoriya’s eyes immediately dart around like a cornered animal looking for a way out. “I used to know him.” He then suddenly looks at the imaginary watch on his wrist. “Oh, shucks, I totally forgot I have to be somewhere…” he gets up from the booth and tosses some money onto the table for the drink he’d purchased. “I… I’ll see you guys later.” Midoriya feigns an excuse and immediately leaves the restaurant.

Shocked, Kirishima turns back to his roommate. “What just happened? Did something happen between you two or something?! Dude I’ve never seen Izu react like that.”

“You could say that…” Bakugou responds gruffly not wanting to go into detail.

“No way, dude!” Kirishima grabs Bakugou by the shoulders. “Well, whatever it is you gotta fix it then! Because it’s bad to lose a childhood friend!” He physically turns his roommate around, points him towards the exit and shoves. “Go after him!”

Bakugou stumbles a step, then half turns to confront Kirishima. “Why?!” He growls. “It’s obvious he doesn’t wanna be around me and I don’t blame him ‘cause I was a complete asshole back then.”

“I don’t care.” Unafraid or phased by his roommate’s gruff attitude, “don’t argue, just go,” Kirishima pushes Bakugou again. “I’d hate it if my roommate and friend can’t get along together over something that happened as dumb young kids. You’re adults now, solve it like adults!”

With a growl, Bakugou relents and stomps out of the restaurant so quickly that he forgets to grab his coat. Damn that Kirishima for being right! But he doesn’t even know where Midoriya is heading, so how is he supposed to find him?! That argument dies when he sees the man standing at the bus stop. Bakugou looks up at the sky for a moment. Is fate just aligning tonight to force his hand? Kirishima didn’t even ask the reason why they haven’t been in contact before making him chase after Midoriya. Doesn’t know how badly he’d hurt his childhood friend, bullied him for three years and how he couldn’t blame the man for leaving and going to a high school in a whole ‘nother city to get away from him. If he’d wanted to make amends, he would’ve looked for Midoriya back then, but he felt like he didn’t have a right to, didn’t deserve to ask for forgiveness, especially when he still didn’t understand at the time why he’d been such a dick. Now he does, or at least he’s accepted the reason and he hoped to lock that away for the rest of his life rather than admit it.

“Fuck…” Bakugou growls under the heated breath of mist. The cold starts to bite without his coat, but if he went back to retrieve it, Izuku might be gone when he returns. He crosses his arms and walks quickly towards the bus stop where Izuku stood unaware that he’s followed. “Izuku!” He calls out once he’s within just a few more steps. “Izuku, I need to talk to you.”

Midoriya whips around with wild eyes and takes a step back with his hands raised in front of him. “Go away Kaachan! I don’t wanna see you!”

Bakugou takes another tentative step forward. “Eijiro told me to chase after—”

The man’s body instantly stiffens in anger, hackles raised like a cat warning off an enemy. Oh, that really pisses Midoriya off. “If that’s the only reason!—”

His hands gesture wildly in exasperation, “Fuck, it’s… It’s not!” Bakugou snaps. He takes a step forward as he lowers his tone of cracking desperation. “I-I… he’s right! I need to apolo—”

Midoriya takes another step back. “Don’t, Kaachan!” He intensifies the stop gesture with both hands raised. “I don’t. Wanna. Hear it! Just leave me alone!”

“No!” Bakugou stomps forward a step. “I’m not leaving!”

“Why is it so important?!” Groaning, Midoriya throws up his hands in exasperation. “I don’t need your apology; I just want to continue to forget like I’ve done for the last four years!”

“Because…”

“Because what?!” Frustrated, Midoriya fixes a hardened glare straight into Bakugou’s eyes. “If it took Eijiro telling you to apologize, clearly you didn’t figure it out on your own! Do you really understand just how much you hurt me?!”

“I know it was wrong to bully you…”

“Pfft! Hahahaha,” Midoriya suddenly raises his gaze to the sky as he bursts into sarcastic laughter. “Is that why you think I felt hurt?” He turns his back to shun Bakugou as he starts walking away again. “You haven’t figured out anything. Goodbye, Kaachan.”

That reaction catches him completely by surprise and the shock keeps his feet planted while he processes the situation. He’s never seen Izuku like this, so sarcastic and punchy. As Bakugou watches the distance between them grow, he notices how much broader Midoriya’s back has become. No longer the skinny twerp, his old friend has filled out— looks good. Because of his childish stupidity, he lost the chance to watch him become a man, to grow into an even cuter version of the freckle-faced, curly green-haired boy that meant too much to him, and now as that back slowly fades into the wintry flurries, he’s about to squander this second chance. But maybe he should just let this go. If Midoriya is happy now and his presence is only causing him pain, perhaps he should leave… leave this university, this city, just go away as his consequence?

“Fuck that!” Bakugou growls beneath his breath. He musters up the courage he was missing all those years ago. “I fucking love you, okay?!” He screams at the top of his lungs. “I don't want to, but I fucking do— can’t help it! That’s why I was so dumb, that’s why I was an ass, but I was 12! I didn’t know shit at that age!”

Midoriya stops dead in his tracks but doesn’t turn around just yet. In a low tone he responds inquisitively yet with a snarky undercurrent. He knows Bakugou was never one to lie about something like this, so he knows there’s truth to his words but, “that sounds ridiculous. Why would you hurt the person you say you love?”

Bakugou’s body and voice deflates, it’s a fair question which hurts to admit. “Back then I didn’t understand what I felt was love. It just felt weird— made me feel awkward around you, so I drove you away instead.” He sighs, “when I finally figured it all out, it was too late. You’d moved away and I didn’t know where you went.” He snorts a depressing laugh. “Know how I figured it out? One of the girls in a class dropped a manga under their desk, so I picked it up and it was one of those boy’s love manga’s. I felt so stupid.”

“You could’ve asked my mom.” Midoriya’s voice softens to the teary tone of the man’s words. “She would’ve told you.”

“I didn’t think I deserved you. I still don’t think I deserve you.” Bakugou drops down into a squat with his head in his hands. “You’re such a cinnamon roll, everyone loves you, so smart, while I’m a dick who people steer clear of… I’m glad I got that out finally, it’s enough for me. I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.”

“Kaachan…” Midoriya sighs and leans down in front of the man. “Have you figured out why I was so hurt when you pushed me away?” Bakugou shakes his head without looking up. “Sure, the bullying hurt, but it’s because I loved you so much, you are more than just a friend to me, and to have my crush treat me like a stranger, I couldn’t bear it.”

“Even more reason I don’t deserve you,” Bakugou mumbles.

Midoriya forces Bakugou’s chin up. “Do you still love me?”

“Yes.” He states matter of fact.

“Then I’ll decide what you deserve or not,” Midoriya smiles. “What was the chance of ending up at the same school, with the same classmate in common? Fate gave us a second chance, so shouldn’t we take it?”

Bakugou’s head is spinning, and heart is soaring. Never in a million years would he have seen this coming. Midoriya really is too good for him. “I swear I’ll never hurt you again.”

Midoriya smiles wide but narrows his eyes, “I know, but if you do,” he open-hand taps Bakugou’s cheek sternly, “I’ll make your life a living hell…”

#bakudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bnha #modern au #college au #angst with a happy ending

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