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#im only going to go on that school bus to school about thirty more times and its only gonna be to write the exams

quirkless-accident · 2 years

Note

Teacher Danny is the real teacher of hero basic training, all might is just the teachers assistant, and he is absolutely livid when all might skipped weeks ahead of the syllabus while he was away on a mission.

Danny: im sorry, which one of us has a teaching license?... Thats what i thought.

Since All Might didn't have his teaching license yet, he was reduced to a teaching assistant. Not that it mattered to him either way, not when none of the students would know. The only ones who were aware of this was the staff-more specifically pro hero Phantom who taught foundational heroics. And since All Might had forty years of experience-at least twenty to thirty more than Phantom had-it only made sense that foundational heroics was where he was placed.

This worked out well, though. At the beginning of the school year, Danny was nowhere to be found. According to Nezu, he was caught up in a sensitive mission overseas, and wouldn't be back for another day or two. So the first lesson would be under All Might's care.

And he's really beating himself up now.

Danny had wanted to go over the syllabus before his mission, and All Might had more or less blown him off, and they didn't get the chance to reschedule before Danny left. It's fine, though. What kind of hero would he be if he couldn't improvise?

Battle trials were something they did often enough at All Might's time in UA. Surely they would be fine. And what a way to start the year, too! They could have another one in a few months to check their improvement. Yes, that would work. Perhaps he could speak to Danny about it.

-----

So, the battle trials hadn't gone quite as planned. Everybody did fine, and they were pretty tame, bar the fight between Midoriya and Bakugou. Midoriya was the only one with any serious injury, so All Might counted that as a win. He knew his successor was smart and driven, and would in no time find a way to control his newfound power. And who knows? Maybe Bakugou might mellow out a bit.

----------

"Hey, All Might," Danny greeted as he walked into the teacher's lounge. He looked tired, like he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.

"What time did you fly in?" Aizawa asks him as he hands the tired hero a mug of coffee. It was still steaming, but Danny didn't seem to care as he downed it like a shot and had Aizawa get him a refill.

"Few hours ago. All the planes were delayed because of the attack, so I just. Flew here. I'll probably catch a nap during lunch or something."

"You flew all the way here from America by yourself?" All Might asked, impressed. Danny just shrugged.

"I was excited. I wanted to see how the kids all did yesterday. I've been waiting to gauge their martial arts abilities since the entrance exam. I have high hopes for Ojiro, though with the skill he's shown he might just put me out of a job," he chuckled as he took another cup of coffee from Aizawa. He took a gentle sip this time before turning to All Might. "How did they do?"

"Midoriya got pretty beat up," Aizawa answered for All Might, essentially throwing him under the bus. "Had to go to Recovery Girl."

"There's no reason he should have been that beat up," Danny said, frowning into his mug. "Not if they were just doing some quirkless sparring."

He looked over at All Might, who's heart was stuttering nervously. He couldn't keep a secret to save his life, bar the one about his quirk. Plus, there was video footage of all of the fights that he had wanted to go over later. There was no way he'd be able to keep it from Danny. But he was their colleague, and a pro with thrice the experience as Danny. This shouldn't be too bad, just a minor misunderstanding.

"Well," he said, hating how nervous his voice sounded. "We didn't do quirkless sparring."

Danny's brows furrowed in confusion as he stood up a bit straighter. With his tired features and the fact he's clearly at the end of his rope in terms of patience, he looked twice as scary as his usual self. It also didn't help that he was a brick shithouse in both of his forms, unlike All Might.

"What did they do yesterday?" Danny asked. He didn't sound super threatening yet. But he knew that he was going to, here in just a second when All Might gave him his answer.

"We did battle trials."

Danny closed his eyes and took in a deep breath to calm himself as his rage spiked. He heard the faint sound of ceramic being compressed, and Aizawa quickly took the mug out of his hand before he could shatter it with nothing but his grip. His hands opened and closed, and All Might watched as he bobbed his head up and down ten times, likely counting backwards, before opening his eyes again. Instead of the calming blue he had been looking at, he was met with a terrifying green that sent shivers down his spine.

"All Might," Danny said through his teeth. "Why did you not follow the syllabus?"

"Well, we never got a chance to talk about it-"

"-I emailed it to you," Danny hissed, stepping forward. "You didn't bother to look? And you-re just-you're perfectly okay with sending a bunch of untrained teenagers without proper control of their powers to beat the shit out of each other?"

Danny's voice was rising with every word, right along with his temper. All might audibly gulped, hyper aware that the remaining teachers, save for Aizawa, were quickly leaving to avoid his wrath. And he's pretty sure Aizawa was there to prevent Danny from genuinely committing homicide.

"Not only that, but if there was a student who got hurt enough to go to Recovery Girl then that means the fight should have stopped way sooner than it had. That kind of injury takes buildup. Which means you more than likely had plenty of opportunity to stop it.

"How dare you endanger the lives of these fucking kids, All Might. And for what? Because you've suddenly become illiterate? Computers are as old as you are, I thought you would know how to function with one."

"Now, listen, Danny-"

"-No, All Might, you listen," Danny was absolutely seething now. The air around them was much more cold than it had been a minute ago, and there was a subtle layer of frost starting to build up on Danny's clothes-a sure sign that he was seeing red right now. "You do not get to dictate what happens in my classes. You do not walk into that classroom unsupervised. You do not get to call the shots. I don't care how many decades you've been the number one hero. That doesn't mean anything at a school when you don't have a fucking teaching license. And if I'm gone, someone else will take over. And the syllabus. Will. Be. Followed. Do I make myself clear?"

All Might opened his mouth to say something, but at the glare Danny sent him, he quickly snapped his mouth shut, and nodded. Danny leaned back, and seemed much more calm than he had a second ago. Still very visibly pissed off, but easier to manage. He leveled All Might with another glare.

"I will be talking to Nezu about this."

Then he took his mug from Aizawa, and walked out the door. Aizawa shot a tired glare his way.

"Just so you know, if he hadn't ripped you a new one I would have. And I don't have the same restraint he does. So count your lucky stars, All Might."

And he walked away too.

Maybe...Maybe he was a bit over his head with this teaching thing after all.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #pro hero danny phantom #all might #toshinori yagi #shouta aizawa #eraserhead #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

410 notes · View notes

quokkacore · 3 years

Text

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday.

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00.

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak.

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM]

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM]

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid.

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me.

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range.

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life.

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly.

[7:57 AM]

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took.

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School.

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.”

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation.

A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.”

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement.

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.”

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon.

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking.

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored.

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him.

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you.

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry.

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.”

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front.

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since.

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her.

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today.

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

“I don’t like her, Yeeun.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

��Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken.

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.”

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club.

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you.

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice.

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?”

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled.

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately.

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?”

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?”

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’.

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag.

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.”

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch.

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy.

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time.

Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord.

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends.

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?"

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!”

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months.

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung.

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung.

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history.

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since.

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything.

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration.

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to.

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel.

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face.

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also.

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college.

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing.

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!”

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss.

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either.

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only.

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters.

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked.

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—”

The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit.

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here."

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things.

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious.

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Perfect.”

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things.

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed.

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?”

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!”

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.”

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?”

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.”

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out.

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry."

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me."

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change."

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult. You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?"

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year."

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal."

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist.

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether.

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly.

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed.

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

“Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.”

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them.

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was.

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before.

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped.

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him.

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered.

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came.

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground.

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!”

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths.

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault.

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station.

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could.

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up.

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs @crescentjen

#kwritersworldnet #nct angst #nct x reader #jeno x reader #jeno angst #jeno fluff #nct au #jeno au #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop imagines #nct dream x reader #lee jeno x reader #my writing

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

No Boyfriend’s

Masterlist

Henry comes home to find out his three year old princess has a boyfriend, whats a dad to do?

Warnings: swearing, fluff

A/n: so I had so much fun wrighting this fluff piece! Thank you to @jessevans for requesting it.

No Boyfriend's

You walked up to the preschool to pick up your daughter from her afternoon session. You had to admit when Henry had first sugested moving out of the city You had been a little skeptical. He had been adamant that he wanted your child to have a childhood much like his. Out of the hustle and bustle moving out into 'the sticks' as many londoners would call it. You'd settled in a quaint picturesque little village near Canterbury in Kent the location was perfect for henry's work with the port of dover thirty minutes away and the center of london with all the airports around an hours drive in the opposite direction it was ideal. And best of all it was out of the way and had all the amenities within the village itself a post office, shop,pub, Doctors surgery and pharmacy the local primary school and pre school was literally a five minute walk from your house and the closest secondary schools were a ten minute bus ride into canterbury itself and when the time came you had six to choose from.

The reason for the move? Your now three year old Daughter the apple of her daddies eye. You remebered the day you'd told your boyfriend you were pregnant, you'd been terrified as much as he said he wanted a family you couldnt help that twinge of doubt. But he was exstatic within moments he had darted out of the room when he returned he was clumsily trying to dial his mothers number with shaking hands tears streaming down his face as he kept asking if you were sure even when his mother picked up, you could here her laughs of joy as he told her. He paced the room leaving you to sit on the bed giggling as he refused to sit down whilst on the phone with his family every time he walked past you he move his hand pressing on Your flat tummy asif trying to feel the child already that or he was trying to imagine you with a bump and that grin? You'd never seen him smile like that before it truly melted your heart seeing him so happy. He was always and attentive boyfriend but once you was pregnant he was..Incredible always by your side when he was at home tending to your every need and he somehow managed not to be over bearing.

It was when you went to the first scan that he had proposed some might say it wasn't the most romantic but for you it was perfect! Leaving with the first photos of your little jellybean and a fiance. Fuck yes! You thought that you couldnt get any happier but then came the gender scan. You knew he didnt mind what they were but you also knew deep deep down you both wanted a little girl to coddle over and buhe wanted a daddies girl someone who he could be their knight in shining armour. He could bearly keep still beside you holding your hand tight watching the screen trying to get a look at your little 'nugget' as he had called them he couldn't keep quiet either with every swipe of the ultrasound wand he was changing his mind.

"Girl? Is that? I can see? nope Boy definatly boy"

"Henry babe...dont get to excited that's the umbilical cord...I think?" They were being a little bugger crossing their legs making the sonographer work hard to move them around as you had to move again and again trying to get the little one to move. Finally they spoke.

"And you two are about to have... Little....Princess! You have a baby girl on the way congratulations" you both froze looking at the screen seeing your baby...your daughter. Immediately you both burst into tears.

"A-a girl your sure?" Henry asked in a quiet shaky voice the woman smiled nodding handing you both tissues then moved slower over the child showing you exactly what she saw then printed off some of the photos for you. Once home Henry began refering to her as 'little lady' on account of her 'protecting her modesty' by crossing her legs.

It wasnt long after youd began talking about moving seroiusly, the house was big enough sure but now you knew the baby was a girl it all seemed much more real. Sure you'd both spoke about buying a house together on and off as youd moved in to his place earlier in the relationship but this time it was more feasible the idea of raising your precious little girl in the middle of london didn't bode well for Henry he was also concerned about haveing photos of her taken he was an actor hell your relationship was posted all over social media by your third date! He didn't want that attention on his daughter so you both started seriously looking. It only took another nine weeks to find a place you both fell in love with the Georgian detached house it looked like a mini manor with its decorative columns and tall windows had a huge garden to for kal it was perfect.

At six months you had a small private wedding and it was then that he anounced your marriage and baby Cavill, potsing your favourite wedding photo of you in you and Henry facing each other laughing witb your foreheads together, you were wrapped around each other as close as ou could get considering the bumb that had seemingly grown overnight his hand resting on the cute bump you were laughing because she had just kicked him when he had told you he loved you. Almost like 'dont forget about me!', Kal had photo bombed to his head poking out between your an Henry's legs smiling , a part of your flowy dress caught up on the bears ear head tilted the only one looking at the camera and in the same post he added an ultrasound of your baby girl. You got congratulations from many of yours freinds and family. And Henry's freinds and costars each wondering the same thing 'how the fuck did Henry keep it quiet?'. You wondered that as well, the hole pregnancy was just memory after memory. Henry made sure you did everything you could to document your daughters creation, you did the photo of your bump once a week the last one being you in the hospital in the middle of slow labour holding the gown tight around you a mere half hour before she was born. He had made sure you did the belly casting which had been tidied up and trimmed painted pink and was in the cupboard, then the 4d scans expensive tho they were nothing and you mean nothing compared to seeing her little face for the first time, it was then you realised she looked nothing like you! She was all her father although a slightly more feminine and less sharp and it was also there you were told she had lots od hair...Curls you felt like you'd hit the jackpot. At the birth he had been incredibly supportive until he wasn't, well you disagreed he wanted to film it and not just your face he wanted to film it you said no but regretted it after as it would have been solid proof of what happened. You see one moment he was there then mid contraction....you heard quiet 'nope' a huge thump is what alerted you to his fall.... there was an alarm pressed and nurses came running in each giggleing, it was rare now days to have a fainter.

"Are you FUCKING KIDING ME?! HENRY?! OI! HERNY? CAVILL GET YOUR ASS UP!" You had to stop shouting and started breathing heavy as another contraction pulled at you once over you began barking orders to the nurses.

"KICK HIM...KICK HIM IN THE NUTS! DONT WORRY ABOUT STERILISING SUPERMAN HERE! NEVER AGAIN! HE WONT THEM TRUST ME... HENRY GET UP! ARE YOU LISTENING? STOP BEING A LITTLE BITCH! I AM NOT DOING THIS AGAIN COS HE FUCKING MISSED IT! LOOKING WHEN I TOLD HIM NOT TO!" The nurses didn't know what to do it took three of them to place im in the chair each trying desperately not to laugh as you had a melt down screaming at him to 'wake the fuck up' You swore you even heard laugher from outside signaling that his family had heard. Yes your wonderfully supportive husband had fainted through stress? Excitment? Anxiety? Low blood sugar? Each time you asked him it had been different answer but and to quote him 'it was definitely not because I looked' which neither you or his brothers will ever believe or let him forget. Luckily he came to as you finally birthed his daughter. A stunning screaming little dark haired bundle. He sobbed when he held her for the first time leaning over her cradeling her so gently leaning over her kissing her as many time he possibly could he was the first one to hold her, hug her kiss her and change her. The photo of his first cuddle hung proudly in the hallway ,you will never forget that moment, the moment when Henry's whole world changed you could see then just how much he had wanted this. Your daughter was going to be the luckiest little girl in the world.

Paige had grown into a daddies girl, through and through which made today much better. Henry was coming home from filming man from u.n.c.l.e he had been away for months and you had kept his arrival home a secret. Henry was going to make it home in about twenty five minutes. You stopped just before the colourfull gates unable to go in with Kal, you could see the kids lining up in twos underneath the oak tree in the small garden. You smile moving to stroke Kals ears hushing him as he barked loudly vibrating with exciment his tail thumping on the floor as he sat like the good boy he was. At his bark you could hear the kids all squeal with excitment, they loved it when you brought the 'wolf' to the preschool. It was funny hearing Paige whine to them that 'his name is Kal and he's a bear'. He was quite the spoilt pup when he helped you pick up his sister getting hugs and kisses of all the Paige's class mates. Finally the small class was walked out of the garden one of the teachers holding the gate lettjng them leave to their parents. Paige waited in line pointing to you then was let out you ducked down hugging her kissing between her her curly little pigtails.

"Hey baby! Have a good day?" She nodded passing you her small bag and a small potted plant? You looked at her confused but said nothing. She turned and giggled hugging kal smoshing her face in his chest making him stand up she pulled back and squealed as he latherd her with kisses three hours away from her was apparently to long!

"Oh no Kal! Stop it silly bear!" You laughed watching her push weakly at kal who began to settle down now that his 'pup' was with him. You noticed the other parents hovering there kids all pulljng itching to come get Kal cuddles. You smiled to them nodding suddenly they came over all giving him pets and love which he lapped up. You also used it as a sort of lesson the do's and donts of petting dogs, which did some of the other parents a favour. Kal wagged his tail and droped to the floor he couldnt roll over fast enough directing the tiny hands to scratch his belly mouth open tongue lolling about as he panted one happy little bear. After you were sure all the kids got there cuddles you moved calling kal he huffed at you ignoring you instead wanting more love. You smirked down at him sighing as the children giggled. Finally after much coaxing from the other parents you and Paige managed to heave kal away with promises of chicken and snuggles at home. Soon you was on your way home kal padding beside you happy as can be.

Paige took he spot beside you holding his lead with you she was talking about her 'boyfriend' a little boy who she had taken a shine to. It was really sweet he had just moved to the area a little asian boy who paige had bonded with quickly. Really they were just best freinds but he was the first boy she had made freinds with hence she had opted to call him her boyfriend.

"So then Micah played let me play and-and he let me be a knight!" You smiled at her as she beamed excited.

"Really? A knight?" She stopped at the road with you looking both ways then crossed quickly.

"Yeah! Like in daddy's games!! And he gave me some of the bany tomatoes in his lunch...did you he grew them in his own garden!!" You gasped sown at her.

"Really? Oh my, sound like a little dream boat!" she scrunched up her nose lookjng up at you placing a tiny hand to he forehed sheildjngnher eyea from the afternoon sun

"Wha?" You chuckled shaking your head at her.

"Never mind jummy is just being silly" nodded to you her lightl blue eyes sparkling at you then Continued talking about her day mostly about Micah and the games they played.

When you reached home you watched as kal began barking and whining which could only mean one thing. Henry was home already, you unlocked the gate and released the dog with a quiet 'go get daddy' he tore off whining running to the door scratching and pouncing barking the whole time.

"Mummy whats wrong with kal?" You looked down at her knowingly"I'm not sure why don't you go see to him?" She nodded her head biting her lip then licking it, she looked so much like her father doing that. Then she was off running to the house just as Henry opened the door. She froze then screamed for him quickly falling to pieces with grabby hands wantjng her daddy. You watched all choked up as always she was bawling her eyes out by the time he had jumped the steps to the house scooping her up in his huge arms. He clutched her to his chest shushing and rocking her as she cried into him fisting her small hands in his shirt just calling him over and over. He moved his head kissing her trying to calm her, he hated and loved this. He hated her getting so upset when her returned but secretly loved that she missed him. The first few times he left he was worried she wouldnt remember him but juste as youd promised him she had.

The first time he came home you’d taken her to the airport to meet him...He had ended hup having to sit in the back with her as she refused to let him go getting hysterical each time he tried to pry her off of him. She had gotten better as she got older understanding that daddy had to work and now she was older she could speak to him on the phone and video chat. Each time after the initial crying and snuggles she would stay stuck to his side weather she was sitting on the sofa between his legs when he was playing games or in the makeshift gym with him useing his reps to practice her counting...even if in five mineuts he managed two hundred by her count they were always together. Hell sometimes he even read a new script as a bed time story, which not even you were privvy to!

You laughed walking up to him winding your arms around them both cuddling your daughter between you he leaned in kissing ou on the lips.

"God its good to be home" you smiled smoothing one of paiges high pigtails she whined calming down kicking her little legs wrapping an arm around his neck and moved suckling her thumb a little. He moved you all into the house patting her bottom lightly somthing he had done since she was born it always soothed her. You moved to the kitchen opening the back door letting air in it was to hot, you placed the small plant on the windosill by the sinck giving it a tiny bit of water as you noticed the siol had dried out. Henry stayed close behind you wanting to be around you, you moved to the slow cooker flicking it on to warm up the already cooked casserole. He came up behinde you movijng to have Paige on one hip still rocking her slightly even tho she had calmed down.

"Ohh look baby chicken casserole...Did you help mummy with that today before school? " She giggled peering over the pot.

"Yes daddy! I putted in the veggies! And tatoes! Daddy!" He smiled at her gasping.

"You did the veggies and the potatoes?! Such a clever girl making daddies favourite dinner" she giggled at the praise nodding.

"And-and I tasted it to!" he gasped at her as she got all excited

"And what do you think?" She grinned and 'whispered'

"Needed salt" you spun round and gasped at her offended.

"You little!" You chased her and Henry around the kitchen island wriggling your fingers as if to tickle her.

"AHH HAHAHa NOOO! DADDY RUN RUN!" you giggled as he scarperd out of the kitchen hovering by the door and moved all you saw was the tops of their heads peering into the kitchen. You rolled your eyes as they made a 'plan of attack' you turned back to the pit placeing the lid back on.

Suddeny Henry had you, arms pinning yours to the sides as Paige 'tickled' you making you laugh.

"Oh my god! Stop I give I give!" Finally Paige relented koala climbing Henry who quickly scooped her up to his hip.You moved in kissing her cheek then henry as he wrapped his free arm around you nuzzling in to your neck giving a quick nip before licking at your skin.You giggled trying to escape yet all he did was grab you around your waist and hoist you up.

"HAHA! I have you both now!" You laughed and Paige squealed as he spun around holding you both before making his way to the living room you wriggled free pretendingnto run from him making paige call out to you for help as he threw her up in the air holding her with 'slam dunking' paige to the sofa making her laugh and scream as he followed lifting her littl tshirt blowing rasberries on her tummy makeing her squeal and laugh louder. You smiled at the two, this is what you missed when he was away, the laughter of a full house. You sat down in Henry's armchair as he and Paige 'wrestled' soon attracting kals attention who like the loyal steed he was came to paiges aid pouncing henry making him groan and roll off her givingnher and kal the chance to escape to the garden, you both let them the garden was safe and having kal around was like a live in nanny he wont let anything happen to her.

Henry rolled over on the sofa lounging back panting crooking a finger at you. You crept over moving to sit in his lap, he tugged you down to him pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He moved sitting up more cupping your ass smirking.

"Soo? Did you think about what I mentioned?" You grinned and pretended to think for a second making him groan leaning in leaving kisses on your neck and jaw.

"I did" you finally replied, you felt him hold his breath as his nose ghosted your ear.

"I stopped them that night~ all back to normal now" he pulled back staring at you

"Really? You mean it?" You nodded them brought you forward for a deep kiss. He had mentioned trying for another child when he came back, youd always intended to give Paige a sibling but not when she aas still a baby baby. Now that Paige was older and going to be in school next year you had felt ready to try again and had be over the moon whne henry had suggested it in a video chat instantly stopping your contraception so eveything would be back to normal and you could start trying asap asfterall you knly had him home for a few months then he was off to play superman again. He smiled lunging forward pinning you below him devouring your mouth you moaned as things got heated.

You felt them. Eyes. Blue eyes to be exact. You both sighed and turned to Paige who was staring unblinking at the two of you from the door. You moved pushing him up.

"Mummy? Wheres my plant I wana show daddy what I grew!" He looked at you and sighed a little, you could tell he was a bit dissapointed but you waved him off as he stood pulling you up with him you moved in whispering.

"Tonight love" he grinned and jumped up a bounce in his step holding his hand out to paige who took it.

"Its on the windowsill in the kitchen" Henry nodded left the room letting you relax for a while already knowing you were picking up your kindle to read. Once in the kitchen he lifted Paige placing her on the counter and pulled over the small plant.

"So whats this then?" She smiled touchingnthe leaves softly

"Its a strawberry plant daddy...I did it from a tiny seed!" He smiled at her looking to the plant it wasnt half bad small but alive which is more then he could say for his when he tried.

"Oh you did this? At school?" She nodded at him and moved the leaves about.

"Yes and it will get bigger and grow pretty flowers...And the flowers will grow a strawberry! Miss bou said we cant pick em till they are a bright red like in the shops... and we can take pictures in to show em off!" He nodded to her

"So your gardening at school now? Is it fun?" She giggled putting the plant down

"Yeah we got lots in our vegetable patch...we got some lettuce and peppers and spinach and and tomatoes! But they not ready yet...Micahs is! Micah grows the at home... can we grow some veggies daddy?" He smiled at her

"We certainly can...Besides we will need to plant your strawberries in the garden...I will make your ownn little growing patch amd we can grow anything you want how does that sound?" She squealed and bounced on her bottom making him smile.

"Lets make a list and we can go get them tomorrow" she nodded in agreement. You walked in the kitchen as henry and Paige leaned over the counter making a list

"Whats going on here then?" Paige quickly riped the paper from under Henry's nose.

"List mummy! Of palnts for my veggie patch! Daddy wants to help!" You smiled peaking over the paper seeing two halves one side had strange 'paige writing' the other a list Henry had written. Compost, tools, string, pots then lots of different fruit and veg. You chuckled shaking your head.

"You missed watering can...maybe we could get a waterbutt? And one of thows plastice green houses to start the seedling off?" He smiled nodding addjng them to the list as you went and checked dinner. You nodded then turned to the other two."Right you tow dinners done wash up then go wait at the table...Had it in the slow cooker all day just needed to be heated up" he leaned over kissing you once again thanking you then helped Paige was her hands leaving to the dining room with Paige.

You did this everytime he came home early dinner meant an early bedtime for Paige and then You could give Henry a proper homecoming. You dished up the dinner home made chicken casserole you moved quickly with the three bowles placing them on the table then sat down ready to eat as Henry began talking about work. you smiled letting him gush about his work, you loved seeing him like this he blushed slightly.

"Any way enough about that, how have my two girls been?" You watched at Paige grinned across the table to him.

"I made a new friend daddy!" You swallowed your mouthfull choosing to keep quiet you knew where this was going you grinned into you bowl. He smiled at her leaning over to wipe her mouth quickly making her giggle at him as he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Oh really? And whats her name?"

"Haha nooo! Daddy its not a girl...I've got a boyfriend!" Henry choked onhis mouthfull paiges face dropped and she looked to you worriedly you smiled reassuringly at her. Henry hit his chest coughing finally getting himslef under control, he looked at you shocked and terrified you nodded at him chuckling.

"A-a boyfriend? Poppet dont you think your a bit err young for that?" She frowned at him shaking her head.

"No daddy! He is really nice! He lets me be a knight! And today we had lunch together and he fed-ed me his tomatoes."

"Gave paige he gave you his tomatoes" you corrected as Henry gaped at her unsure what to make of it.

"So he is just a friend?....he better be" he grumbled the last part under his breath.

"He is a friend...My boyfriend I love him daddy... he gives me hugs! And Kal likes him to! He's my hero" You giggled as Henry was panicked and at a loss.

"Really....love I thought daddy was your hero?" Creased up he actually looked a bit hurt from her words she gave him a sympathetic look.

"Yes daddy you are...But Micah is to! He is soo pretty and fun and he don't make me be the princess all the time...And he shares his colours"

"Okay so you love this boy Micah?" She nodded pushing her food around in her bowl.

"What do you love about him?"

"His hair! Its black and shiney! And and he is cute!"

"Aha but you do know he isnt your boy friend right? Your not aloud boyfriends yet....No boyfriends untill your older." He said she looked at him wide eyed then you her bottom lip quivering.

"What? But but I love him!" Henry crossed his arms at her she mimicked him scowling

"No absolutly not baby" .she whined and smaked the table in a huff

"NOOO! MY BOYFRIEND!" He raised a brow at her as she had a paddy.

"No boyfreinds untill your 21 and thats final ittle lady"

"No! Micah is mine! My boyfriend! A-and you cant stop us from playing! So there!" Henry rose a brow trying to ignor your quiet chuckles as Paige made huffed and stuck her nose in the air being a right little madame. You watched givjng Henry the stink eye as a grin crawled across his face. Here we go.

"Its illegal...he could get in trouble, daddy could get in trouble" Henry tilted his head at her as she gasped trying to read him, you could see her mind trying to work him out. Is he lying? Or not? but her father was an actor...And a damn good one he had a poker face like no other. You knew where this was going, you knew you should stop it but his was gold! You had a feeling that henry was not gojng to ckme out on top.as she opend her mouth.

"W-well we wont tell..Keep it a secret!" She said holding a finger to her lips Henry tutted shaking his head.

"Oh poppet...Do you know where daddy has been these past months?" You squinted at him trying to see exactly where this was going knowing you were going to have to pick up the pieces. She nodded then shook her head no. He smiled devilishly at her. Oh shit here he goes.

"Daddy has been to spy school" you gasped at him oh hell no he wouldnt...yes he fucking would you could see the twinkle in his deep blues.

"Spy school?" She spoke in a small voice then turned to you looking fro one to the other he nodded at he

"Y-your a spy?" He nodded and she gave him a sa look.

"Yes, and I made friends with lots of spies" she twitched slightly shaking her head.

"And they told me that the spy rules says that a spy's little girl isn't allowed a boyfriend until they are twenty one....If they did find out daddy could get in trouble...You dont want daddy to be in trouble do you?" She shook her head bottom lip trembling as she was torn. She looked like she would explode as she tried weighting up her 'options'.

Suddenly Henry dropped his smug look and looked more like a deer in the headlights as Paige began wailing moving her arms making grabby hands to you. You sighed and hoisted her into your arms rocking her trying so hard not to laugh.

"W-why is da-daddy mean?....I ju-just want to pl-play with my boyfreind!" You patted her back rocking her.

"No-now D-daddy will get i-in trouble! But I-I just w-wana plaayy!" She cried harder hicupping between her words.

"Oh sweety come here shh shh" you gave Henry a look as he leaned back in his chair crossing his arms at you shaking his head. Stubborn and protective of his little lady.

"Nope..Not having it" you hissed at him knowing you had to spell this one out for the big idiot.

"Daddy didn't mean it,he wont get in trouble at all baby girl"

"Yes I did"

"HENRY!" he shut up at your hiss

"Bu-but d-daddy said-"

"Hey look at me...Dont listen to daddy he is an idiot and just jealous of Micah" she sniffled an nodded

"Y-yeah cos he-he's got pretty Shiney hair... D-daddies just got stupid curls!" You giggled as Henry looked aghast at her not believing wht ha was hearing

"Exactly daddy is just being a grump! you can still play with Micah...He is your best friend isn't he?" She nodded sniffling

"and you love his like a friend right?" Henry now realised his mistake blinked at you as you rolled your eyes shaking your head at him like 'what the fuck? Really? Shes three' .oh. She pulled away wipinng her eyes looking to henry's matching blues.

"Really daddy? C-can I still play w-with micah?"

"Yes of course...I'm sorry baby...you and mummy was right I just got jealous...daddy is used to being your only hero." Smooth cavill real smooth. She bought it tho nodding he tilted his head down.

"Yo-you wont be in tr-trouble" he shook his head at her

"A-and Micah wo-wont be in t-trouble?" Again he shook his head and reached for her.

"No baby daddy was just being silly...Come here Can you forgive me poppet?" She thlught about it then nodded lunging for him cuddling him he mouthed a sorry to you but you just rolled your eyes at him. Idiot.

It was later that night when Henry returned to your bedroom after reading Paige to sleep,. You both flitted about one another getting ready for bed ou was brushing your teeth when he brought it up.

"So who is this micah then?" You rolled your eyes still hearing a little hostility there...To a fucking three year old. You spat out the toothpaste and looked to henry leaning on the door.

"A little boy...He moved to the village just after you left...Paige was instantly taken with him, he is asian so was avoided by the other kids...you know what she's like with hair and shes never seen straight pitch black hair before... she gushed about him for a few days then they became best freinds....And she call's him her boyfriend because he is the first male friend shes made! God henry really shes three! There none of that shit yet...not for a good few years!" You turned away from your sheepish husband.

"So? nothing i need to know? theres nothing going on? whats his parents like?" You blinked at him..

"Seriously? Like are you being serious now? Ok well fuck it his dad has taken over the doctors surgery and is actually your and my doctor now that dr marsh has retired! His mother is a stay at home wife, they have a cat called fuji; cos he is fat and a gold fish called mino because its a mino...he is a sweet polite boy ...his favourite colour is green he grows fruit and veg in his garden and you know what Henry he fucking loves batman! and whne he batman versus superman comes out he is gonna want batman to kick your ass! there you happy Jesus fucking christ almighty!" Henry smirked moving towards you slowly stalking towards you really.

"Fuck off" he just chuckled quickly wrappjng himself around you.

"God your so sexy when our mad come here~" you blinked at him

"Oh hell no You did not get me riled up to have rough sex.....Henry I!....you little shit!" He laughed knowing you’d caught onto him making you more irritated and dragged you to the bed kissing at your neck along the way.

"Come on love time for number two...A boy to keep and eye on Paige for me when I'm away!" You chuckled relenting as he laid you down on your bed.

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill x daughter #henry cavill x child

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wienerbarnes · 4 years

Text

Stressor

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,622

Warnings: murder lol, mentions of gore/blood, mentions of rape (its described in like two sentences and theres a short non-graphic flashback, but pls pls pls message me if you dont wanna read and ill give u a sparknotes version), so theres angst but also some nice parts like bucky meditating okay

A/N: wrote this while procrastinating my art commissions but i bought my first laptop BY MYSELF after saving for months and im v excited :) lmk what yall think of this, i promise next part will be goofier/happier lol

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“Shit… Fuck… Fuck! He’s gonna fucking kill me… fuck…”

The mumbles spill from your lips as you take in the scene in front of you. Puddles and puddles of blood covered the floor of your apartment, dirtying your beige tile and all the other surfaces with splatters. David lays in the middle, with about thirty-six stab wounds in his body.

When you and Bucky started the arrangement regarding your list, there were two rules you two agreed to follow - no matter what. First rule: Kills are never completed alone. You two are to complete the list together and help each other with everything that involves the person. Second rule: Bucky is to know everything about the person they’re killing. What they did to you, their name, their remaining family, where they live, what they eat for breakfast; everything.

And here you were breaking both of those rules.

It was too good of an opportunity, you try and convince yourself. Bucky will understand, he’s always so understanding, he never yells, he’s always so nice to you; a choked sob escaped your body as your dirty hands fly to cover your face, tears flowing down your cheeks mixing with the blood now smeared across your skin.

…

TWO HOURS EARLIER

Bucky always told you to be extremely cautious when leaving the apartment. Even though it had been well over a year, almost two, since your prison escape, you never knew who could be watching. Every few weeks or so, your name pops up in the news, Whatever happened to one of the worst killers in modern history, How did she pull off such an escape from such a high security facility, Is she even still alive, etc.

But as soon as your name appears, it vanishes once more, replaced by some other injustice happening in the world.

Your feet take you inside a small bar, the musky scent intrigues you along with the copious amounts of peanut shells littering the floor. You take a seat on the stool and try not to pay attention to the fact that every single person in the room is staring at you right now. But you can’t blame them; you’ve dyed your hair a pastel pink now, body covered in baggy jeans and baby blue long-sleeved milkmaid top, a gift from Bucky. “You can’t wear that one t-shirt, that’s mine, by the way, forever.” He’d told you. Your rainbow painted toes and fingernails stand out under the dimmed lights of the place.

An older man behind the bar approaches you and places a napkin in front of you, “What can I get ya’?” You order some beer plastered on the wall because as far as you know, you’ve never even tried alcohol before, let alone know enough about it to have any kind of preference.

You take sips of the beer for a while, aimlessly watching the sports game playing on the TV, every once in a while glancing at the pool table where a group of older men play a game together. Suddenly, the stool beside you becomes occupied. You know it’s not Bucky, he doesn’t know you’re here and it’s not his cologne, but for a second you were hoping it was. A parallel to when you sat with him in that cafe all that time ago. When he bought you that apple pie and hot chocolate. I miss him…

You refuse to look over at the man sitting next to you, but you can feel his eyes blatantly staring at you.

“So… what’s your name?” He breaks the silence and asks you. You don’t respond, simply just continue sipping away at your beer.

“My name is David.” He offers. A chill runs up your spine at the name and you look over at him. He looks so familiar… Where do I know him from? Have I seen him at the food market before? Is he Hydra? Did we go to school together? Were we in the Marines-

“Hey officer,” A deep voice curls into your ear, causing a chill to run up your spine.

“Fuck off, David. I’m trying to do my hair.” You don’t bother glancing at him in the mirror as you scoop more gel into your hands and smooth it onto the top of your head. You’ve let your hair grow to long and the strands keep sticking out of the bun, but the thought of asking any of the other women, or worse - the men, for help cutting it terrifies you. You’re still too new.

“Now, is that any way to talk to your higher up?” A large hand wraps around your middle and gropes your breast.

“I said fuck off.” A pointy elbow slams back into his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

“I’ll get you for that, just you wait. Fresh meat.”

Your body runs cold as you make the connection and you feel as though your entire body has shut down. You can feel the cold sweat gathering in your palms and your lower back. A lump forms in your throat and you want to cry; you want to scream. But something takes over, and although you feel terrified, you keep yourself composed; hide your anxiety.

“Do you want to get out of here? My place is only a few blocks away.” You ask, false sultriness dripping from your voice. David smirks at you, clearly not recognizing you from nearly a decade ago.

He takes out some cash and places it on the bar, grabbing your beer from your hands and placing it on top, grabbing your hands after and leading you out of the bar.

…

Bucky sits on the floor of his living room, practicing his twenty minutes of meditation before bed. Alpine rubs her cheek against the bare top of his foot that’s crossed under his knee, but eventually gets bored before trotting around behind him to start climbing her way up his back. Bucky tries his best to ignore her tiny nails digging through his shirt, but can’t help but chuckle as she makes herself comfortable in the curve of his neck. “Guess meditation time is over, huh baby?” He whispers before gathering her in his hands and plopping her on his bed. He reaches down to roll up his yoga mat when he hears a silent buzzing from his kitchen.

Confused on who would be calling him this late, knowing that Sharon’s visiting a college friend over in SoHo and Sam’s on a date, he sees a number he doesn’t recognize flash on the screen. Bucky hesitates answering, but he knows telemarketers rarely call this late.

“Hello?” Bucky answers.

“B-Bucky?” Your shaky voice sounds on the other end. The sound is watery and raspy, like you've been sobbing your eyes out and screaming for hours.

“Bucky, I-I-I need y-your help… I fucked up,” Your voice is cut off by a hiccup as Bucky goes to grab his closest pair of pants to go over his boxers and he pulls on sneakers before grabbing the keys to his bike.

“Hey, sweetheart? Do me a favor and relax, okay? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Bucky rushes out as he locks his door behind him before making his way to the staircase.

“I’m so so so sorry, Bucky… please don’t be mad at me-e… I broke t-the rules,” Choked sobs escape you and Bucky has never heard you cry like that before.

“Listen, I’m already on my way, okay? I’ll be at yours in twenty minutes, okay?” You don’t respond as Bucky listens to your crying and you eventually hang up.

Broke the rules? What does she mean by… oh. She couldn’t have… we had our next hit planned for a few days from now. Did she do someone else on the list? Bucky tries not to think too much about it until he can get to yours and figure out what’s going on, his motorcycle screaming through the quiet night.

…

You’ve been sitting in David’s blood for about an hour now. The liquid is cold, his body is cold, the phone in your hand is cold. Nice going, you’ve really done it now. Not only have you probably just cost yourself your freedom, but you’ve ruined your jeans and the top Bucky bought you. He’s going to be so mad at you; he’s going to be so mad that he’s going to have no choice but to bring you in. He’ll be laughing as the cops drag you away-

Your thoughts are interrupted by a frantic knock on your door, Bucky’s voice calling your name on the other side.

“If you don’t open the door, I’m breaking it down!” He calls.

You slowly stand, trying not to slip in the puddle, before walking over to the door and opening it about halfway. Bucky’s eyes widen and his brows furrowed together as he looks your body up and down.

The blood on your clothes is starting to brown and you’re covered up to your forearms in blood. Splatters decorate your face, neck and hair, and your eyes are puffy from crying.

“I-I-” You begin to stutter. Bucky silently pushes his way inside to see the bloodbath waiting for him. He pushes the door closed behind him and stares at the body laying in the middle of the floor. Your knife still sits standing out of his face.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Bu-Bucky- I can,”

“What, you-you can explain?!” Bucky snaps, turning to face you, and you’ve never seen him look at you like this. You flinch and take a half-step backwards, bumping into the door behind you.

Bucky turns back around, a flesh and silver hand running through his hair and roughly over his face.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” He begins, voice eerily even, still staring at the body. “You're going to go shower and wash all of the blood off your body. Then you’re going to make sure this apartment is spotless. I’ll take care of… him. And then we’ll talk when I get back. Are we understood?”

You can’t seem to make any words come out so you quickly make your way to your bathroom and close the door behind you softly.

You shower until the water runs cold and your skin is tinted red. Either from the blood or how hard you were scrubbing, you’re not sure, you just didn’t want Bucky to still be in your apartment when you stepped out.

It’s not that you were scared of him, because you weren’t. You knew that Bucky would never intentionally harm you, both physically or mentally. You were more angry at yourself. Bucky's done nothing but protect you; he’s kept you a secret, helped you indirectly work through your trauma, stitched you up, made you smile and laugh when you didn’t even think that was ever going to be possible for you anymore. You broke the only rules he asked of you. You disappointed him. You’ve put him in an even worse position than he’s already in by protecting your existence.

You turn the knob of the water to the right before stepping out and wrapping your fluffy yellow robe around your body, tying it at the waist. Your apartment is empty when you step out of the bathroom, Bucky nor David occupying the space. Your walk over to your sink and open the cabinet on the bottom to take out your cleaning supplies before getting to work.

…

Bucky’s calmed down significantly by the time he gets back to your apartment. He checks his phone to see that it’s almost five in the morning before reaching in his other pocket for your keys that he took off the table, slipping the key into the lock and jiggling it until pushing the door open.

He’s not mad at you. Perhaps he was for a bit, but he realized that anger was just fear. Had anyone seen you? Did this guy do something to you? Did he recognize you and that’s why you needed to kill him? Did you kill him because you actually wanted to experience that again? He really hoped it wasn’t the last one.

You're sitting on your bed in the corner of the apartment, splatters still visible on the sheets but the floors are clean. The room doesn’t have an overpowering smell of bleach or cleaner, but there is no trace of a body here, besides the small splatters, but those can be passed off as splashes of wine. You did good.

Your feet are stretched out in front of your as your hands are planted behind your back, propping you up. Your yellow robe is tied around your waist but the edges sit high up on your thighs.

He sets your keys on your table, kicks off his shoes, and walks over to take a seat next to you.

“Did you know I was a Marine before all of this? When I was, like, eighteen?” You break the silence, still staring at the wall in front of you.

“Yes.”

“The guy was my unit chief. He raped me twice during my first week there.”

Bucky remains quiet as you explain, watching your face and it’s calm expression. You hesitate, opening and closing your mouth before opening it once more to continue.

“I went to some bar tonight and he hit on me. He didn’t recognize me, and… I don’t know. I thought I’d scare him or something, remind him what he’d done. But then he was here and he kept trying to feel me up even though I’d push him away. I didn’t have a plan yet. And then he snapped at me and then I snapped back…” You trailed off.

“After I realized what happened, I panicked and I used his phone to call you.”

“I’m really sorry, Bucky.” You say, softer now. You bring your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your shins.

“Okay. I forgive you.” Bucky responds after a moment.

The two of you sit in silence next to each other on the thin sheets. You’re staring at the passing cars out the window. He’s staring at your plant that’s sitting on the small night stand next to your mattress. You’ve changed out the silver tin it was sitting in to a light blue one covered in green polka dots.

You tilt your head to meet his eyes and look away briefly before meeting them again.

“Can… Can I have a hug, Bucky?” You ask, with the smallest voice in the world, your sentence ending in a small crack.

Bucky doesn’t answer and instead scoots closer to you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap, your thighs on either side of him, chests touching. His left arm wraps around your back and drags slowly up and down while his right hand rests on the back of your head, softly scratching through your still damp hair. Your hands are tucked close between both your chests and your breath fans softly against his neck where your head is tucked into. He silently breathes in your scent, the children’s strawberry soap you use mixed with a homey, warm small that’s just you. He watches out the window as the sky turns from a dark blue to a deep orange; it should be about five-thirty right about now and the morning traffic is about to start.

“There’s a ton of white cat hair on your shoulder, Buck.” He hears you whisper against him, voice slurring a bit with drowsiness, the last bits of adrenaline wearing off.

He smiles to himself and holds you until you're fast asleep, and then stays for a while after that, too.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanficiton #bucky x criminal!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes series

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gynecologistmsfrizzle · 4 years

Photo

asshole otp prompts (but jester’s a sweetheart so i took some Liberties with this one)

thank you @roguestorm once again i owe you my life!! have 1.6k words of college au beaujester, everyone. im kind of in love with this concept

Beauregard Lionett was not having a good day.

She'd missed her bus and had to run to campus to make her eleven o'clock lecture, and had found out that class was cancelled when she showed up, wheezing and sweat-soaked, to an empty room. That would have been bad enough— even if she hadn’t pulled an all-nighter to finish an essay by a deadline that just got extended— but when she went to pull out her water bottle she found the cap on crooked and half her backpack soaked. On its own, that would have been enraging. With everything else, it was enough to make Beau wheel around and punch the wall with a shout. The wall was unmoved. Beau swore loud enough to take the rust off a bike chain, and shook out her knuckles.

She went down to the cafeteria to beg one of the staff for a bag of ice, but was met by a line stretching a good thirty feet out the caf door— so that was a bust. She rerouted to the athletic center, where she asked for the icepack out of their first aid kit, but was politely stonewalled by a handsome butch who Beau might have asked out if she hadn’t been so pissed off about her busted hand. Finally, she gave up and made for the showers, where she scrubbed off the worst of the sweat and changed into the only spare clothes she had on campus— a ratty set of gym shorts and a shirt that was more stain than fabric. She looked like shit, which seemed about right for how she felt.

By the time two o’clock finally rolled around, Beau had resigned herself to the fact that her life was dissolving into a steaming, irredeemable pile of garbage. Her fingers were starting to swell up in a way that made her think she might’ve actually broken a couple of them, and she winced at the thought of cramming them into a boxing glove at practice tomorrow. One way or another, though, she was due at work. Her shift started at two-thirty, so she made her way morosely to the library and plodded to the elevator for the eighth floor.

Beau usually liked the library. Architecturally, it was a bit of a postmodernist nightmare… all concrete and steel, slapped together to make a building that was taller than it needed to be and twice as ugly. But Beau didn’t tend to judge on appearances, and the energy of the place was great. Full of the hum of people chatting and studying and asking questions. Busy, but quiet. Sometimes she’d go deep into the stacks and just inhale the smell of the old paper for a few minutes. It always calmed her down.

What she didn’t like, though, were how fucking slow the elevators were. It took them thirty seconds to make it up or down a single story, like they were getting towed by goddamn snails. There were two of them, because that’s what accessibility laws dictated, but whatever money the school had put into quantity had clearly come out of the quality budget. Getting to the rare books section on the eighth floor took five minutes, more if anyone else got on or off. People rarely did. It was faster to take the stairs. Usually, Beau would be right there with them and call it cardio, but today she felt sorry for herself, so she grumbled something incoherent and mashed the close door button until the doors began to slide shut.

Began.

They were stopped by another student clutching an armful of art supplies, who fucking skipped in the door and flashed Beau an infuriatingly wide smile. She was pretty— on the short side and a little chubby, wearing a frilly dress and so much jewelry that Beau was surprised she didn’t rattle every time she took a step. She radiated positivity. It was tremendously irritating.

Beau scowled at her, and started mashing the button again.

The girl pursed her lips. “You know, you seem very cranky.” She had a strong accent— probably an international student. Somehow, she even made the insult sound bubbly.

Then she grinned, and with surprising speed, reached out a hand and pressed the button for the seventh floor. Then the sixth. Then the fifth. Beau realized what she was doing and tried to swat the girl’s hand out of the way, but she was much stronger than Beau had been expecting, and managed to fend her off for long enough to hit the remaining buttons before the elevator doors finally shut.

The elevator began its agonizingly slow climb upwards.

“Fuck you,” muttered Beau, which she wouldn’t usually have said to a stranger, but this was a bad day.

“Don’t be like that,” said the girl brightly. “It’s a prank. Pranks are funny!”

“It’s not fucking funny,” said Beau, but there wasn’t much heart in it.

The girl seemed chronically incapable of taking a hint, and stuck her hand out to shake. “I’m Jester! Nice to meet you.”

Beau very pointedly did not shake her hand. Jester, at least, had the good grace to look a little bit hurt, and dropped her hand back to her side.

“I’m not your friend,” snapped Beau. “I don’t know what you were thinking. What an asshole move. We’re gonna be stuck in here for ages now.”

There was a long, awkward silence. The doors opened, then closed on the second floor.

“Sorry,” mumbled Jester.

Beau looked up. The girl looked genuinely sad, hugging her sketchbooks close to her chest like they were a teddy bear. The brief catharsis Beau had gotten from yelling at her curdled into guilt.

“Aw, shit,” said Beau. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” said Jester.

“Fuck, just— I’m sorry, you’re not an asshole, or whatever.”

Jester sniffled, just a bit. “You just seemed grumpy. I thought it might make you laugh.”

“Why would you want to make me laugh?”

Jester looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “Because you were sad, obviously! But I got it wrong, and now I’m an asshole.”

Beau squinted at her. “What do you care if I’m sad?”

The doors opened on the third floor. A couple of guys walked past the elevators before the doors shut again, and the elevator resumed its climb.

“I don’t like it when people are sad,” said Jester. “I know it’s important and all, and— and— well, whatever, but sometimes I’m good at making people smile. And everyone likes smiling.”

“I’m awful at smiling,” said Beau. “It makes me look like I’m, like, super constipated.”

“Nobody’s bad at smiling,” said Jester with all the confidence of a white boy in a first-year politics class. “Everyone is beautiful when they smile. Only when they mean it, though. Only when they’re actually happy. Fake smiles aren’t the same.”

“You think nobody’s bad at smiling? You’ve never seen me smile,” Beau countered.

Fourth floor. One of the librarians got on, nose buried in an old paperback. Neither of them said anything until the librarian got off at the next floor, and it was just the two of them again.

Jester picked back up like they’d never paused the conversation, and said with a shrug: “I bet you have a pretty smile. Maybe you just don’t show it to people very often. That’s okay. It makes it precious. Like a diamond, or a ruby. It’s rare, so it’s special.”

Beau was a little taken aback. “Did you really come running onto this elevator and push all the buttons because you thought it might make me laugh?”

Jester’s face clouded over again. “It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it—” Beau snorted. “It was stupid, but it’s, uh, kinda sweet. I’ve never known someone who’d just do that because they saw a stranger having a bad day.”

Sixth floor.

“I’m Beau,” said Beau finally, and held out her hand to shake. Jester smiled widely and went to grab it, before she stopped and her eyes went wide. “Oh man, your hand is super broken!”

Beau winced. “Uh, yeah. I had a disagreement with a concrete wall.”

“You should go to the hospital,” Jester said. “That is really swollen. I bet they give you a cast. They make them in any colour you want now, you know.”

Beau shrugged. “I have work. I’ll call a walk-in clinic later.”

Jester looked like she was about to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, she shifted her sketchbooks to her other arm, and held out her left hand instead. Beau reached out with her good hand and gave it a shake.

“Sorry for pushing all the buttons,” Jester said.

Despite herself, Beau cracked a smile. “No, it’s okay. I guess you did it for the right reasons.”

Jester grinned. “I told you so!”

“Told me what?”

“That you had a cute smile! This is my floor,” she said as the elevator came to a stop on the seventh. “I gotta meet my study buddy. Maybe I’ll see you around, Beau! That means handsome in French, you know.”

The doors opened, and Jester skipped out, and they started to close. Beau watched her go, not entirely sure of what had just happened. The elevator suddenly felt very lonely.

Beau whacked the Door Open button, and ran out after her. “Wait!”

Jester spun around. “Hi!”

“I, uh—” Beau fumbled through her pockets, looking for a pen. “Can I— can I give you my number?”

And Jester smiled, a big, bright, real smile, and in that moment Beau understood what she’d meant when she said people were beautiful when they were happy.

“Here!” Jester said, and pulled out a glittery gel pen with a pom-pom on the top. “I’ll give you mine.”

#critical role #cr2 #beaujester #beauregard lionett #jester lavorre #rhi talks #prompts #asks #roguestorm #my writing #*#WHEW thats a lotta tags #oh and #beauregard #for my personal System

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spookysanta · 5 years

Text

daddy’s girl. (e.d.)

Summary: he's been watching her and she knows it. He's yearning for her, and he’ll have her, but she has to finish high school first.

Pairing: Ethan Dolan xReader

WARNINGS: age gap (38 vs 18), creep shit

SAY NOTHING IM WRITING A NEW SERIES JUST READ IT AND TELL ME IF IT SUCKS

DISCLAIMER! PLEASE READ: in this, the girl (cairo) is of LEGAL age. he (ethan) refers to her as a child bc yanno.... he's almost 40 here. this isn't on any pedophile stuff, okay? just for clarification. AND as i was writing this i got jake gyllenhaal vibes from this, but then i figured ethan could be the “sexy dad” in the future (so to speak)—which is what i was kinda going for; like a man that’s older but is so irresistibly gorgeous, even young girls swoon over him.

UNEDITED

****

******

She'd caught his eye.

And he doesn't know how it came to be this way; he thought he was done messing around like this ages ago. But here he was, a thirty-eight-year-old man, watching an eighteen-year-old girl cheer at his neice's high school's football game.

She sees him though; as if he's staring into her soul. As she finishes her tumbling routine in the halftime show, her eyes dart in his direction and his never leave her. She shivers slightly--

Who is that man? she wondered, walking away from the field to distract herself.

She stands at the cash register, swiping his items across the scanner. "Did you find everything okay?" she asked in a monotone voice, looking at the clock on the register's screen.

"Yes, I did. Thank you." the man responded, fishing in his wallet for cash as he already knew how much two bottles of red wine cost. "Do you need to see ID?"

"Yes, I--" she paused, looking at the man for the first time during their interaction. This was the man from the football game! She couldn't have forgotten those pearly eyes that bore into hers, and definitely didn't forget the way he ironically made her feel when their eyes locked. "I-I do."

"You okay?" he asked with a chuckle as he handed her his driver's license. He knew exactly who she was, and after a bit of research, he knows that she's what he wants. And, likewise, he knew that she remembered him. That in itself was exciting because now he knew where she was from 9-2 every Saturday--which meant he'd be seeing her a lot more. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She glanced at the line forming behind him and shook her head at the idea of her confrontation. She took the card and read the birthdate carefully. "1980." she muttered, handing it back to him. "Your total's $18.20."

He handed her a $20, grabbing the bottles of wine by their necks and smirking. "Keep the change."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Cairo. See you around."

She lay in her bed, wondering why this man clouded her thoughts. What was it about him that made him so intriguing? Yes, he was attractive, but he was more than twice her age--shouldn't that mean that he was repulsive to her? Should she shy away from this man and his beauty?

Ethan.

If there's anything she knew about men, it's that older men (well, boys, in her case) don't usually have the girl's best interest in mind. But no matter how many cons appear on this list, the only pro she seems to think of is the fact that he looked at her like he knew her already. His hazel eyes were almost magnetizing her brown ones to his gaze, and the energy was too strong to pull it away.

He's come to the realization that he's hooked on her.

He wants her, no--needs her.

And he knows how crazy that sounds with all of the odds stacked against him (namely, her being a child by his comparison) but he'll admit they'd look absolutely perfect together.

And there's nothing he won't do until they're in love.

day one.

She walked home from school every day. Three-fifteen on the dot, Monday through Friday. Sometimes, she takes the after-school bus after her cheer practices, and that drops her off on the same corner but at five-thirty. He sees her walk down Linden Avenue, then make a left on Conch Street, and then go into the tiny brick house at the end of the lively culdesac. Sometimes he sees her through her window at night, laying in her bed soundly. It takes everything in him each night to not climb up the big pine tree to the second floor, open the already unlocked window—she doesn't lock it anymore because the lock can get finicky at times and it can get quite hot in San Bernadino in May—and breathe in the same air as her.

Just once.

Just once, he wants to be there for her—hold her, kiss her, smell her, taste her.

Is that too much to ask?

Just one more month, he reminds himself as he perches himself on his porch chair, watching her walk into her home with her friend, Janelle.

He does not like Janelle.

Janelle has a tendency to be a bit manipulative when it comes to Cairo; she wants the best for her, of course. But she's always making Cairo go to parties that she doesn't want to go to, or do things that Cairo doesn't typically do.

Cairo's a good girl who doesn't need to be bombarded with social...ick.

"She's a good girl," he mumbled, palms set on his knees with white fingertips. "My good girl."

***

She continued her walk to the store like she usually does on Sunday mornings in the spring. Yes, she does work at the store, but why not stop by and visit her favorite co-workers while she picked up her favorite ice cream?

"Good morning, Edith!" she greeted to the elderly woman stood behind the customer service desk. She resembled Jane Goodall in a way; caring, generous, kind. "How are you today?"

"Hey, sweetie! I'm alright, hope you're doing well. Say 'hi' to Katherine for me!" she replied with a wave, going into the employee's lounge.

"Will do!" she wandered to the frozen food section, her coffee brown eyes set on the cookie dough ice cream in the freezer. With happy alarms blaring in her head, she grabbed a pint from the shelf, going immediately to the checkout line to pay for her dessert. "Hey Ricky." she said to the cashier.

"Hey, Cai." he responded, ringing up her ice cream and setting it on the counter. "$4.68. Got your employee ID on you?"

She fished through her wallet and came up emptyhanded. "Shoot. I must've left it at home." she sighed. "It's cool, I'll pay full price."

"Nah, I got you." he took a card out of his front pocket, swiped it, and put in his pin. "There ya go. $2.27."

"Thanks, Ky. I owe you one." She handed him a five dollar bill, keeping the cash fold of her wallet open so she could put her change in it.

"You know what you could do for me so we're even?" he opened the cash drawer, taking out her change and handing it to her.

"What?"

"Go to dinner with me." he wrote on her freshly printed receipt. "It doesn't have to be fancy, but if you're interested, you should hit me up sometime."

"Sure. I'd love to." she smiled, putting the receipt with her change and grabbing her ice cream off the counter. "We'll talk tonight?"

"Totally. See you around."

"See you!"

She entered the house again and put her ice cream in the fridge. "Ma!" she yelled into her mother's office as she passed it. "Ms. Edith at Ben's said 'hi'!"

"Aw, how sweet of her to think of me!" she said with a smile. "I'll have to send you by her house with a plate of cookies this week."

She groaned inwardly. Edith's a nice woman, but Cairo's mother, Katherine, does not conjure up her life-changing cookies on any given day. Which means that she would make a small batch—just enough for Edith and her husband, Clarke—and then, poof! No-one's going to see those cookies until Christmastime. Bounding up the staircase and into her bedroom, practically leaping onto her bed with a sigh.

Meanwhile, he was watching her still. He didn't even think to consider the idea of someone catching him stare at this girl, sat in the rocking chair on his front porch, watching her intently through a pair of zooming binoculars while she boredly scrolled through her phone. Quite frankly, he wouldn't care at all. If someone were to walk by and ask him what he was doing, he'd merely say: "Protecting my girl."

He doesn't give a damn if she took a glance out her window and saw a man—that man—staring back at her. Knowing her, which obviously he does, she'd probably scream for her mom and tell her mom to come and look because "there's a strange man" looking at her through her window. And then her mom would come and look but by then he'd be back in his home across the way from hers, in his bedroom, watching her panic through the telescope he'd set up.

That'd be a gift to himself, really. Because he knows deep within that she thinks about him. Even though maybe the thoughts are of worry or panic and not ones of admiration, all he cares about is the fact that he's invaded her thoughts just like she's invaded his.

#dolan twins #dolan fandom #dolan tuesday #dolan imagines #ethan dolan #planet dolan #grayson and ethan #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan imagine #ethan imagine #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan series #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan x poc #ethan dolan x black girl #stalker!ethan

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outrowings · 5 years

Text

#1 - mrs. lee

stories about kim seokjin and his two brothers that run the convenience store down the street

「 chapter index 」

pairing : kim seokjin x reader genre : fluff wordcount : 939

Every day started the exact same way for Kim Seokjin and that can be taken as a blessing or a curse, but Seokjin decided a long time ago to make that distinction only on how the rest of the day went. Sometimes he hated it.

Seokjin gets out of bed, gets dressed, and flips the sign on the door from closed to open at seven am. At eight, Taehyung clambers down the stairs from their flat and makes his way through the store, swiping a bag of chips from the counter on the way to meet the bus to school. At nine fifteen, Namjoon makes his way down the same stairs, two times as fast and tripping over his feet, mumbling under his breath about being late for his jazz performance class. He’s just about through the door when Seokjin yells, “Kim Namjoon!” The lanky man whips around in the doorway to find a banana and a juicebox flying towards him.

He mumbles, “Thanks,” to his older brother before turning back, nearly smacking his face into the glass door before fumbling for the handle and making it outside safely.

Seokjin lets out a sigh at the telltale click of the door. The store is quiet at nine twenty in the morning and it’s just another Tuesday. Silently he takes a seat at the cash register and pulls a textbook out from under the counter. At least while it’s quiet, he can study for his upcoming Microeconomics midterm. But just as he’s getting into the rhythm and finally flipping to the second chapter, the bell on the door jingles, signifying a customer.

A shrill voice reaches Seokjin’s ears. “Oh Seokjin! It’s good you’re here. Let me just grab some orange juice and then we can chat.” Seokjin closes his textbook, knowing there’s absolutely no hope of getting any work done knowing that his most frequent customer has arrived.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee!” he returns, as cheerily as he possibly can so early in the morning, knowing he’s in for a long meaningless chat. The short woman makes her way from the far corner of the store to the counter with remarkable speed and places a gallon of orange juice in front of him to ring up.

She hands him a crisp five dollar bill and as Seokjin is collecting her change from the drawer, she begins. “Seokjin, have you met my daughter? She’d really be perfect for you, you know. She can cook really-”

“Here you go Mrs. Lee!” he interrupts, careful to maintain the smile on his face as he shoves the change in to her open hand. “Oh! I think I’m getting a text message,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket to stare at the blank screen. “Hmm,” he says, pretending to read it, “it’s my classmate. We have an upcoming test and she’s having some difficulty,” he tells Mrs. Lee and unlocks his phone.

“No problem. I have all day,” she says, smiling sweetly, though panic is starting to set in for Seokjin. He cannot handle longer than thirty minutes with Mrs. Lee and Namjoon won’t be back until 2 pm, so he does what he must.

[9:30 am] best binch jin: mrs. lee is here and wants me 2 date her daughter… send help

[9:30 am] best binch jin: ASAP

[9:30 am] y/n bestest friend: lmao sounds like a you problem

[9:30 am] best binch jin: PL E AS E IM BEGGING

[9:31 am] y/n bestest friend: omw be there in 5

It was 15 minutes before the door jingled again and Seokjin let out a sigh of relief at seeing your face. But he was not one to call you a liar for being 10 minutes late to saving his life.

“Oh Jin! Didn’t you remember that we have that appointment with our professor?” you ask, slightly out of breath having run from your apartment to the store. You only see the panic in his eyes after you’ve finished posing the question. His eyes dart back and forth between you and Mrs. Lee who is now turned to look at you. His lips form a thin line as if he needs to yell at you but is using all his willpower to hold himself back.

“Wait, I thought you needed help for an exam?” Mrs. Lee questions, one eyebrow raised in accusation.

“Yes, of course!” you respond without hesitation. “I just wanted Jin’s help before we meet with our professor so I can ask more relevant questions for our test,” you say with a large fake grin plastered on your face.

Mrs. Lee seems to accept this explanation and grabs her orange juice from the counter with a sigh. “Alright then. Let me know when you would like to meet my daughter,” she says, making her way out of the store. You side step the doorway to give her a clear path. “She can cook you dinner!” she yells over her shoulder before the bell over the door jingles, signaling that Mrs. Lee is gone and Jin is finally safe.

He lets out a deep breath. “You were ten minutes late,” he says pointedly.

You scoff, making your way behind the counter and dumping your backpack on the ground. “Maybe I should be an hour late next time.”

The color drains from his face. “Oh god please no.”

“That’s what I thought.” You smile at Jin triumphantly, reaching over him to swipe a candy bar from a display case on the counter. “Oh, but I actually do need help for the microecon test,” you tell him.

#hyunglinenetwork #kreativewritersnet #networkbangtan #jin x reader #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts #kim seokjin #jin fluff

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taylor-on-fire · 5 years

Text

Cigarettes and Alcohol (one)

She was told to never get involved with three things; Cigarettes, Alcohol and Rock Stars.

Obviously, something fate never intended for her to live by.

Pairing: ? x Reader

Series Rating: Mature

Chapter Rating: Teen

Chapter Warnings: Swearing

~/-*•|•*-\~

The remainder of the summer had disappeared within the blink of an eye. If unpacking the rest of my belongings and furnishing the flat hadn't consumed the vast majority of my free time, my newly accumulated job had.

I had walked into Regency Cafe on my third day in London, resume in hand and extraordinarily low expectations. It was stationed five streets away from my flat, and a hub that I had scoped out soon after arriving. Because of this, I assumed that it was too good to be true, and being as popular as it was, would have copious amounts of workers and applicants alike. But, I had seemingly hit the jackpot that day. As soon as I walked into the cafe and spotted the only waitress behind the counter - a gray-haired, flustered woman in her late fifties - and mentioned the ‘Help Wanted’ sign stuck on the glass window.

‘You here for the job, Honey?’ I nodded, and she immediately thew an apron my way and hustled back to the till.

“Rose.” The woman nodded to me and slid over a tray. “That’s for table 7.”

“Y/N. Great to meet you, Rose.” I threw a tea towel over my shoulder, smiled, and picked up the tray to serve.

Ever since then, I had been working ten hour shifts at the Cafe. The crowds only ever thinned out at around the three ‘o’clock mark, when it was too late to be considered lunch, and too early to be considered tea. But, even then, there was never a moment to take a breather, let alone have a smoke. I wouldn't complain though - It kept my days occupied and helped me save extra money for when the next semester started. And Rose was lovely.

After we had locked up the cafe that first night - a pretty successful day as per usual - We had gotten talking about everything and anything over a cup of Coffee. Rose’s other two waitresses had called in sick, and with no available family to help, she was forced to fight the rush head on. Obviously that's where I came in.

Coffee after lock-up had become some sort of ritual after I was hired, and after the hour or so chatting with the grandmother I never had over pastries, I would walk to my flat and go straight to bed. I rarely went back out once I got home, and thus hadn't scoped the area as much as I usually would. I mean, I knew of a few pubs and student clubs nearer to the university campus, and a few clothing stores, but London was huge. It would take longer than a night to discover all there was to see.

Undoubtedly, now I’d have less time to dedicate to finding the hot-spots of the city. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was awake again - Pulling on jeans and a plaid jacket haphazardly. Apparently snoozing an alarm clock six or so times eventually added up to an hour. So, now I was 65 minutes behind schedule, and would be inevitably late to the first lecture of my first semester at Uni.

Way to make an impression, Y/N.

I checked the clock again, simultaneously buckling my sandals, and true to the time, I had 40 minutes to complete a half an hour bus ride and trek to the other side of the campus.

Luckily, Imperial was by far the closest Uni in the area. God forbid i had applied to another college instead - I would hands down, never make it to the campus on time. Being rejected fro the course for numerous lates wouldn't come as a shock to say the least.

I made my way outside and lit up a smoke, securing my bag on my shoulder and making my way towards the near-empty bus stop. It was fairly cold outside, despite it not being too early. It was the middle of September although, and despite the summer feeling very recent, it was slowly fading out into a chilly autumn.

However, I wasn't exposed to the British temperatures for too long, as in a few minutes, I was seated at the back of the bus, willing it to go quicker to ensure that I wouldn't be late to class.

I had constructed a whole plan on how my mornings would go from now on, and sorted a precise routine to avoid this one situation. I didn't imagine it being disregarded so early into the school year. Yet, I was notorious for being late back home, despite my best efforts. It was evidently not a good trait.

As I hurried across the campus, barely navigating the way from memory and already five minutes late, I hoped that this wasn't an omen for what my life would be like here.

The corridors were quiet, a few groups of people scattered around - obviously early and awaiting their first lecture - and all of their faces blending into one. I paid no heed due to the sheer rush I was attempting to downplay in the presence of other students.

The lecture hall seemed abnormally distant. But, as this thought flashed through my brain, a large notice on the wall displayed the word I was desperately searching for in black, block letters. I heaved a sigh of relief and searched for the class number.

EB1.1...EB1.3...EB1.7...EB1.15

Seeing that I had arrived at my designated room, I paused momentarily, glancing down to check my wrist watch. Fifteen minutes late. Fifteen used to be my lucky number, but after this, I'm not too sure. I turned to walk towards the door, not looking up, and immediately came into contact with something solid.

Before I could comprehend what was happening and steady myself, I was falling backwards, the notes in my hand and bag falling everywhere.

“Im sorry! Im so, sorry. I completely missed you there! I was just late and...” A boys flustered voice cut me from my internal monologue of how great the day was turning out to be. He immediately dropped to his knees to collect up the newly created mess, whilst simultaneously glancing back towards me. Presumably to see if I was fatally injured.

“Its fine. Im sorry. It was probably my fault.” I laughed, moving to my knees and picking up a pile of notes scattered to the left of me. “I have a terrible habit of being late to everything.”

“I should have seen you though. Are you okay? Not hurt are you?”

“I’m completely fine. despite my pride, obviously. Are you okay? I completely barrelled into you.”

We both continued to pick up the notes scattered around the corridor together, and finished rearranging ourselves in seconds flat. The man quickly stood up, holding out his free hand to me, which I grasped firmly. I let go, and he clutched his notes, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, a red blush overtaking his features.

“I’m completely okay. I must apologise again.” he spoke, still anxiously rubbing his neck. A small smile was playing on his red features.

I paused for a second and adjusted the strap on my bag.

“You said you were late to class. Whats your major?” I questioned, not much left to lose considering over a third of the first lecture was over. I looked towards the class door, knowing that I was obviously more than a quarter hour late now. This couldn't be good.

“Engineering. Electrical, more specifically. But Engineering is apparently just one big degree here.”

“Im majoring in that too. But, I prefer the Aerospace branch.”

The man smiled at that, before adjusting his shirt collar and swinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder..

“I have a friend that would love that. An Astrophysics Major.” He turned and pointed to the room EB1.15. “I guess we're headed to the same place, then?”

I nodded, smiling back.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” I raised my right hand out to the boy.

“John Deacon. Lovely to meet you.” He grasped my hand, and we shook, before splitting and turning to enter the classroom. John took the lead, entering the class before me, and holding the door open for me to enter too.

I guess chivalry isn't dead.

We both stood there momentarily, well aware of thirty or so sets of eyes turning in our direction. Under any other positive circumstances, I wouldn't be fazed, but knowing that I was in the wrong and destined to be given fails for the next academic year - and in front of so many strangers - I was uncharacteristically nervous.

From the looks of it, John also wasn't one for being thrusted under the limelight. He shot me a short, wide-eyed look, before hesitantly making his way to the lecturers desk at the front centre of the hall. I trailed behind him, probably appearing like a lost puppy, but in reality, unsure what the protocol was for such a situation.

Do i just sit down and ignore the fact that I missed half of the lecture? Or apologise profusely? At this point I’m ready to just leave campus, drop the course and move back home. Although, nothing worse than moving home immediately comes to mind.

However, John quickly spoke, explaining the issues he faced with his travel this morning etcetera, etcetera, and luckily, he included me within this tale. Apparently, we had gotten scheduled 8:15 AM bus, and due to a road-traffic accident, we were diverted for over three quarters of an hour. Credit to him for elaborating so. I was almost convinced myself that I hadn't overslept this morning.

As he concluded his tale, John took a step backwards, next to me, and awaited a response. The lecturer nodded, a blank expression on his face. He waited a second before responding.

“Ive already assigned the Initial Assignment. I want a 2,000 word essay on your reasons behind choosing Engineering as your major, the branch you major in, and the gateways this degree opens for you. Any other details are on the board.” The man held his stoic expression, and we nodded back at him, awaiting a sign to take our seats. “Michael Ford.”

I muttered my name in response, as did John, as we turned to take the only two free seats at the back of the lecture hall. We were stopped abruptly.

“Next time, don't let your romantic life come in the way of your studies.”

I froze, unsure of what to reply, other than a quick nod. I went to hurry off once again, but glanced at John who was beet red - even redder than before in the corridor - a wide-eyed expression on his face. It took all I had in me to not burst out laughing.

#queen fanfiction #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor fanfic #john deacon fanfic #john deacon x reader #roger taylor fanfiction #john deacon fanfiction #queen fanfic

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adelinadelmar-blog · 5 years

Photo

( kristine froseth, cis-female, she/her ) — - ̗̀ it was great seeing ADELINA DELMAR around barcelona today! the TWENTY year old is originally from perpignan, france but they’re here to study chemical engineering as a LOCAL STUDENT. i heard the SECOND YEAR got into barcelona university because they’re radiant, but some say they can also be insincere. no wonder people are starting to call them THE MISSIONARY.

When reflecting upon her childhood, Adelina can’t remember anything more than the warmth of her adoptive family’s love and the weight of a cross hanging firmly upon her neck. Graced with angelic features and doll like eyes, the Delmar’s were sure that Adelina was heaven sent. With God as their pillar, the Delmar’s were permanently knelt at their heavenly Father’s alter. The Delmar’s relationship with God ran deeper than the veins in Adelina’s body. Hours upon hours were dedicated to praying and spending time at the local church but with every holy breath Adelina took, she couldn’t help but feel wrong. Her parents described having a beautiful relationship with God but no matter how hard Adelina squeezed her eyes shut, she only found emptiness.

Adelina never mentioned her lack of belief, she could obviously see how much attending church meant to her parents, and she was so thankful to be apart of their lives. And so Adelina breezed through the sacraments of her church and excelled in every course in private religious schooling and she was on the track to attend a university in England. But just a few months before she was to leave for university, things took a turn for the worse. Adelina and her childhood best friend were drunkenly celebrating finishing their schooling when Adelina revealed she was thrilled to no longer have a religious obligation. Within the blink of an eye, it was the next morning and who Adelina considered to be her best friend informed the Delmar’s about Adelina’s drunken confession. With emotions high and a slight hangover, Adelina confessed her unholy truth. Her parents were more calm than she had ever seen them when they gave her two options; she could leave or she could attend Barcelona University and continue her studies as a chemical engineering student. She had no other options and so Little Adelina worked at church for the rest of the summer and when the time came she packed up her bags and relocated to the dorms in Barcelona.

With her aunt as a professor at the university, Adelina has been kept under a close eye for the past year. But quickly into her second semester of schooling Adelina discovered a new, raw passion of art. While attending the class, Adelina found herself challenged in way that she hadn’t ever been before. With this new found expression of her emotions, Adelina is torn knowing that she is unable to study her passion. Adelina can hide her art classes with the excuse of just completing her prerequisites but she isn’t how much longer that excuse will work before her aunt catches on and reports back to her parents.

Adelina’s parents act almost as if the whole ordeal never happened, but she sees a deep sadness within her mother’s eyes and disapproval within her father’s gaze. Her emotions have been thrown into overdrive after she overheard a conversation between her parents and her aunt; they were considering no longer financially supporting Adelina. With the stench of desperation following her every move, Adelina has organized a club for students looking to strengthen their relationship with God. But as the only steady member of the club, Adelina was ironical enough, praying for a miracle… until she found one, a group of thirty exchange students were coming to Barcelona. She would sweep a couple of the students under her wing and get them to join her religious club. Adelina would get them to fall in love with Barcelona and because she will have created a beautiful community, they’d never want to leave. As much as Adelina longs to be free and not have to go through the charades of convincing new students to join her religious club, she knows that she has no choice. A dainty cross presses against Adelina’s chest, pulsating with every heartbeat as a reminder that her chains are still bound.

PINTEREST BOARD;

hi i’m lili and i’m in the CST!

this is my lil child adelina/lina. adelina is a pisces sun, aquarius moon and cancer rising.

im going to be working on connections for adelina but currently there’s an open spot of adelina’s childhood best friend (local) who told her parents about adelina’s disbelief in god. this would entail some great angst of betrayal.

adelina needs friends but she’s also trying to save her ass by getting students to join her religious club in order to continue her time studying at BU. PM me if you want to plot bc i always want to plot!

#abroad.intro #biography

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jcnnas · 5 years

Text

is that JENNA SLOANE ( cisfemale + she/her ) i see wandering around sterling ? isn’t that the thirty year old detective who lives over in tate / #506 ? they are known to be very + discerning and - capricious. you know what they remind me of ? early morning runs in the summer, uncapped black sharpies straight from the pack to use for the very first time, and spending sundays on the couch with a messy bun, sweatpants, and coffee.

hi there lovelies ! my name’s taylor (she/her pronouns), i’m 21 and i’m in the est timezone, i’m so looking forward to this beautiful little group and am biting at the bit to get the plots going —— do people still do intros like these anymore? i’m honestly clueless —— that said, i figure a few bullet points never hurt anyone ! expect a more comprehensive stats page to follow in the days to come, i literally slapped this all together between one of my least favorite classes this semester and writing a lesson plan about fish. the struggle bus is here and i’m on it, peeps.

growing up it was just jenna and her dad in the house. her mom left the two of them when jenna was still very little, she and jenna never had any sort of relationship and it’s never been an avenue jenna was interested in pursuing despite her dad leaving the door open. it was her and her dad, the “dream team” in a sense ; they had each other and that was all they needed. she’s always been incredibly independent as a result of it, mostly because her dad would be off at work or traveling a fair amount and it would leave her to her own devices, but it was never bothersome?? she was okay if she was her only form of company and because of it, she never was one to succumb to the crowd mentality or try to fit in. she did her own thing and didn’t really give a fuck who liked/approved of it or not

jenna grew up in new york ; went to college in sterling, got a degree in criminal justice. wound up staying in town after graduation and has been here ever since

jenna is a detective — it wasn’t a path she saw herself taking but it was the right fit for her; she needed a job that was different every day, with a time crunch, something that made her truly think and didn’t allow her to stagnate. she likes to constantly be thinking and doing and moving and striving to be all the things, essentially and with her job even the dull moments aren’t fully dull

jenna identifies as bisexual ; she had her first boyfriend and first girlfriend in high school within six months of one another. her father was supportive when she came out, and her sexuality is something that she’s always been pretty comfortable with, very much so at this point in her life

jenna’s the type of person you want in your corner, not the kind of person you want opposing you because she shows no mercy

she’s good at charming the pants off people. she comes across as very go-with-the-flow, all encompassing, and it’s easy to feel comfortable when in her company. if she says she’s got you, she’s got you, but all she needs is the slightest bit of doubt thrown into the mix and she’ll back right off

strategic, take no prisoners kinda woman who will sometimes have the tendency to ask questions after she acts; opinionated, pretty fiery, and often doesn’t have a filter, and her big heart can sometimes be overshadowed by all the steel / she’s not the most stable person there is. her mood is easy to flip, she’s often impulsive, her mind is constantly changing and the only guns that she’ll stick to is the fact she will stick to whatever gun she gets her hand on. she’ll change her mind a lot but she’ll remain just as firm in one viewpoint as she is the other which either makes it super easy or incredibly difficult for her to see reason. she’s an all or nothing kinda woman, lmao

stubborn, will bulldoze over someone with her opinion if they don’t put up some kind of resistance against her. that said, she doesn’t like yes men who will just always go with whatever she says; part of her enjoys the argument and challenge because it keeps her on her toes

occasionally emotionally detached, but this is usually a result of her just not caring

loves running; she’s done a few marathons over the course of the last few years because it’s the closest she can get to the same feeling of getting high ever since nixing smoking weed

as far as plots and connections go, i already have a little page thrown together here if you’re interested and wanna take a look, see if anything sparks your interest ! they’re all just ideas, of course, i’m certainly not limited just to the things on that page — give this post a lil like and i can come invade your ims for all the plotting love. so, so, so fuckin excited to get started writing with all of you and your beautiful muses! x

#sterlingintro

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swampgallows · 5 years

Text

today was really fucked up and i dont really fully have the energy to write about it but i haven’t written about anything in a while.

i went back to my old, old stomping grounds for the interview. i thought they were in the same location as ten years ago, but they’ve since moved. the things around their new location, though, haven’t. the same target is there. the same old navy. the same chuck e cheese, even. the interiors were contemporary but so much of it jogged ancient memories. actual childhood memories that i thought i didnt have anymore. i saw the old navy and missed my yia yia. i went in the target trying to try on bras (there is no fucking way i’m a C now, is there? i had only brought Bs into the dressing room and i was too embarrassed to come back, so i’ll have to try on more another day) but i immediately thought of the old food court and the icees. i think i remember my sister saying she felt like an adult when she realized she could just walk in and purchase her own icee and drink it while she shopped. i’m only recently having thoughts like that, especially now that i’m driving more.

i resisted going by the old house. it was genuinely very spooky to be in that area again. there were a lot of ghosts. the medical center, the mcdonalds with the giant playplace, the spudnuts. unmoving monoliths that have shadowed the outer limits of the scope of my childhood. but beyond that, what is there?

i remembered the old bus route. the boar’s head market. things like how the other middle school looked more autumnal than mine. like their halloween was better, more movie-like. the leaves are always crunchier on the other side, i suppose.

i fucking bombed the interview in my opinion. it started out strong but i really dropped the ball and fizzled out toward the end. i misinterpreted everything. i didnt practice, i was too nervous.

swear to god the fucking cranefly in the bathroom was the worst goddamn omen ever. i was still on time but it was really a fucking shard of glass in my whole day. i wasnt feeling too excited about it anyway. it’s quite a drive to get back there (at least for a daily job, ugh) and i truthfully wasnt too psyched about getting back into retail type shit.

i dont know what im supposed to do.

im terrified about my appointment on friday. i had to have the conversation with her in the dressing room at target, looking at my lumpy sagging body (all thirty ancient years of me sighing sadly toward the floor) and saying as quiet but as legible as i could muster, “they’re not going to take me anywhere, are they?” and i couldnt help but feel like it was a threat: not unless youre a danger to yourself or others. like, if you had a plan.

i’m absolutely fucking terrified. it’s some off-campus shit, i dont know this location, i dont know these doctors, and i dont feel confident in going to these strangers and having them figure out what i need to do instead of people in my own network (at the VERY LEAST) where they can be held accountable. and it’s fucking medi-cal too. i have to be very careful with what i say but i also want sufficient treatment. i dont want to sit in another 6 week course learning about what anxiety is and going over the same four grounding techniques. i need to talk to a therapist. i need someone to help me work through my trauma. i need guidance and a direction. i dont need to be sealed away anymore. an asylum is not a vacation, and i dont want to slather a tinfoil silver lining on it to try to paint it that way.

i dont want to get committed. not anymore. not while im so close to crawling out of the pit.

#blathering

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taizi · 5 years

Text

the way you move ain’t fair, you know

final fantasy xv pairing: promnis word count: 1595 summary: Ignis and Prompto, and three times they danced. read on ao3

It doesn’t help that their audience is laughing. Ignis levers a stern look at them and tightens his grip on his dancing partner’s waist before the inevitable escape attempt can be made.

“Ignore them, Prompto,” he says. “Don’t go slinking off now, you’ve almost got the hang of it.”

“The hang of stomping on your feet?” Prompto says miserably. “Yeah, I’ve got that down.”

There’s a ball coming up, the first one that Prompto will attend as the prince’s royal guard rather than the prince’s personal guest. There’s a certain level of etiquette he was trained in already, along with the other recruits that were going into regular Crownsguard services, but with higher clearance comes additional requirements.

At least, that’s how Clarus pitched it. It was a kinder, more professional way of saying “your best friend threw you under the bus.” Because if Noctis had to dance, by Shiva, so did Prom.

He’s not the clumsy teenager he was in high school. He’s grown into his wide shoulders and long limbs, leanly muscled from training, lithe and flexible and strong. Ignis is certain he’ll be a beautiful dancer, if only he manages to learn the steps.

“You’re much better at this than Noctis,” Ignis says plainly, making no effort to lower his voice. It carries easily across the polished surfaces of the airy ballroom. “It took him weeks to learn a simple waltz, and that was with a handful of royal tutors. He may appear graceful now, but appearances are deceiving.”

It surprises Prompto into laughter, the first unselfconscious sound he’s made all evening. Noctis looks betrayed. Gladio looks as though he’s happy just to be alive in this moment. At least they’ve stopped making fun.

“Well,” Prompto says, “I guess I can think of worse ways to spend my time.”

His posture is relaxed, his body radiating warmth against Ignis’ hands where they’re holding him. He’s been sized for a formal tux for the event, and generally Ignis has a proclivity for the sharp and elegant lines of suits and gowns-- but Prompto looks good like this, in paint-stained sweats and one of Gladio’s T-shirts. Ignis almost prefers it to the tailcoat he’ll wear at the ball.

“As can I,” Ignis says, and he signals Noctis to start the music again, and away they whirl.

“Aw, come on, Iggy,” Prompto says, “I know you’ve gone clubbing before. Don’t lie to me.”

Twenty-four and ludicrously charming, Prompto leans languidly across Ignis’ desk like a cat that caught a canary. There’s a smile tugging at his mouth that is almost a smirk, knowing and self-satisfied.

Ignis shuffles paperwork around for something to do with his hands, well aware of their friends’ hawk-like eyes following the verbal volleys.

“It’s been several years,” he says stiffly. It’s the wrong thing to say when Prompto shoots upright, hands planted on the edge of Ignis’ desk, victory in every light and line of his body.

“So you have gone!”

Gladio is looking at Ignis like Ignis just did a backflip over his desk. Sometimes the prince and the Shield seem to forget that he does have a personal life outside of his professional one. It’s just that the lines between personal and professional are perpetually blurred, considering how much of his heart his comrades and his liege take up.

“Prompto, no.” Ignis uses the tone he usually uses to shut things down. It usually works. “I’m much too busy to take a weekend off for no other reason than you want an excuse to make me wear eyeliner.”

The silence that follows is weighted. Prompto blinks, and looks at Noctis, who gently palms his face as though he can’t bear to look at them. Gladio says, “You know your birthday is on Saturday, right, Specs?”

Ignis pauses. Glances down at his ever-present planner, open to the current month, and finds the unmarked date looming back at him.

“Ah,” he says.

“So, you realize you just rendered your entire argument obsolete now, and there's no way you're getting out of this?” Prompto asks gently.

“Yes, I realize that.”

Which is how Ignis finds himself at a club on Saturday, with Sunday off as well. Ignis has to wonder how in the hell his friends managed that, because he hasn’t had two consecutive days free in-- frankly, he doesn’t want to think how many years.

Prompto, at least, is in his element. He’s confident here the way he isn’t in most other places. The neon lights of the club wash over his pale skin and fair hair, turn him technicolor and violet-eyed, and he attracts more than one lingering look as he walks backwards toward the dance floor, fingers curled stubbornly in the belt loops of Ignis’ jeans to pull him along.

“Just one song,” Prompto shouts over the thumping bass, a beat Ignis can feel in the soles of his shoes. “No, two. Three.” He grins crookedly, at himself or at the two of them or at their friends drinking themselves stupid at the bar or at the ridiculousness of all of it combined.

He’s lovely, Ignis thinks, not for the first time. Vivid and wild when he forgets to box himself in. Built for movement, for action, a runner’s body and an artist’s core. His eyes are fixed points in the dark room, like a path for Ignis to follow through the gyrating crowd and dizzying music. His hands are a constant warmth, searing through the thin material of Ignis’ borrowed shirt.

And a strange shiver of delight shoots through Ignis’ stomach at their closeness, when Prompto presses in to say, “Dance with me, Iggy! It’s your birthday!”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Ignis says, and holds Prompto where he is, where there’s barely inches between them. “I’ll follow your lead.”

By the end of the night, Ignis’ feet are sore and his eyes feel bruised from the strobing lights and there’s a headache forming at his temples; but none of these things stop him from following Prompto’s gentle tug on his collar, and leaning in to kiss him while they wait for the valet to bring around the car.

“Thank the Six you’re so persistent,” he says. “I’d hate to have missed this.”

“I’d’ve gotten you one way or another,” Prompto assures him, grinning. Ignis believes him.

Noctis and Prompto are spinning around in circles on the dance floor, both of them turning thirty this year and behaving like the children they were when they first met. They haven’t knocked anyone else over, by the grace of Shiva, but it probably has more to do with the wide berth other dancers are giving them than their own observational skills.

“It’s nice to see the two of them behaving with the due dignity and decorum of their offices,” Ignis remarks mildly, setting aside his champagne.

Gladio claims the chair beside him, since most of the organized seating has gone out the window at this point in the evening, looking a happy mix of amused and proud. He’s a little pink from the alcohol, and his eyes are still a little puffy from his emotional speech at dinner. The glance Ignis gives him is unrelentingly fond. He figures he can get away with that today, of all days.

“This is the rest of your life,” the Shield says. “Aren’t you glad you signed up for this?”

“I signed up for this when I was six,” Ignis replies dryly. “Had I had any idea then what my future would look like, that might have influenced my decision.”

Gladio huffs out a laugh, not buying it. They’ve been friends for too long. “Yeah, influenced you to sign up faster. You wouldn’t trade a second of this for all the Michelin stars in the world. And that’s not what I was talking about.”

Ignis lets his eyes wander across the rolling garden. The lanterns and string lights are a warm glow, rocked gently by the summer breeze, and the clinking of cutlery and glasses is a pleasant backdrop, and the live band was replaced by an energetic DJ hours ago, a friend of Prompto’s from his favorite nightclub. The music is energetic, and the people on the dancefloor are having a good time, and Ignis has suddenly had quite enough of his cake and champagne.

He stands, folding his napkin over his plate politely.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says, with playful severity, and heads away from one of his closest friends and towards the two of them currently making a nuisance of themselves among people too polite to say so.

“Specs!” Noctis cries gladly, without the good grace to look apologetic. He and Prompto both are shining with joy, they have been all night. “Here to steal your husband back?”

The word sends a thrill through him, and he smiles inwardly. What he says is, “Here to stop the two of you from mowing down everyone within a five foot radius, yes. Now hand him over.”

Prompto’s hair is a mess, and his tie is undone, and his suit jacket is gone to parts unknown and probably won’t ever be recovered, and Ignis has never loved anyone more.

“How much longer do we have the DJ?” Ignis asks against his hair. Prompto hums, muffled in Ignis’ chest.

“Ace’ll stay all night if I ask ‘im to. Why?”

“That’s how long I want to dance with you,” Ignis says.

Prompto looks up at him, eyes shining. “Everyone else’ll probably get bored and go home.”

“All the better,” Ignis says, and Prompto laughs, and they dance.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #promnis #prompto argentum #ignis scientia #my writing #ffxv fic

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wheresmaldo865 · 5 years

Text

ShinsoXReader Valentine Day Special Featuring Song Dead Girl walking from the Heathers

Happy Valentines day! I got this idea in my head and decided to type this up. I originally wanted to do it for Bokugo but wanted to extend my characters palette... since my inbox is always empty :(

But any way, full steam ahead! I didn’t really get the chance to do detailed editing so please forgive me if theres any errors. Also the song is a little out of order so that some things make more sense.

Also, someone please tell me how to properly spell this kids name. I seen it boths ways with and without a u 😭

There a little doodle of Shinsou at the end 😉

Warning: Vanilla smut (Nothing detailed)

Word Count: 1752

‘The Demon queen of high school has decreed it, she says Monday, 8am I will be deleted. They’ll hunt me down in study hall. Stuff and mount me on the wall. Thirty hours to live, how shall I spend them?’

Standing there in a ghostly empty party room was the worst nightmare anyone could have imagined. A ruptured friendship. Three ugly sisters with more power then they deserved. Yet, she forgot.

She had put herself into this whole mess. She had wanted to be part of the ugly sister comment. The bitter sweet sensation had brought her satisfaction and acceptance between her other peers.

Now it was… only bitter.

Because (Y/n) had even had the audacity to stand against them. They made it a public statement to make her live a living hell. As if the room hadn’t already been hot before.

Her palms were sweaty from the wild night she had. Her school uniform stuck to her cold skin a bit to tightly. (Y/n) collar seemed to squeeze tighter, and tighter as the night went on.

I don’t have to stay and die like cattle. I could change my name and ride up to Seattle. But I don’t own a motorbike.

(Y/n) contemplated the endless options she could muster. Running away to the next town… or a town across the seas. Her parents didn’t need to know. No one needed to know anything. However, the more she thought upon one idea. The more ridiculous it ended up sounding. Even in her own head.

So, she continued on her way home. The summer night was overwhelmingly stuffy. Large beads of sweat formed on her forehead and rolled down her red cheeks. Right about now she wished for nothing more than a cold shower to run down her spine.

Y/n) spotted a window spilling light onto the side walk. Her eyes followed the beam of light to a room seated on a two-story building. She could a shadow of a figure walk by. Long spoffy hair poking out from all angles of his head. (Y/n) chuckled to herself.

She knew who the lavender purple hair belonged to.

There was suddenly an interrupting thought that came into her mind. Something devious, something… naughty. The liquor in her blood burned and set her body a flame. Desire hit her with a bus, especially in the lower area. The more she played with the idea. The wetter she became.

Wait, here an option that I like. Spend these thirty hours getting freaky!

Yeah!

I need it hard. I’m a dead girl walking!

(Y/n) marched her pretty little face right up to the door of Shinsou’s house. The blood in her veins mixed with the alcohol pumped excitedly. She was feeling too good to turn back. There was no hesitation in her hands as she lifted it to ring the doorbell twice.

She waited patiently for the door to open.

I’m in your yeard. I’m a dead girling walking. Before they punch my clock. I’m snapping off your window lock. Got no time to knock. I’m a dead girl walking…

The door finally opened. She was greated by the man himself, Hitoshi Shinsou. Someone she saw frequently in her life and had… affections toward. One could say the feelings were returned. There was only one way to find out now.

“(Y/n)? What’re you doing in my house?”

She smiled innocently. She took her pointer finger and pressed it gently onto Shinsou lips. She found it amusing the way his eyes went wide. A blush slowly creeping its way onto his face.

“Shhhh.”

Once Shinsou had finally regained his courage, he took her by the hand and led her inside. To him it was evident she wasn’t all put together, as she usually was. Before she could say anything more, he sat her up in his room. Giving her some water and medicine to replace the hangover pain she may have in the morning.

“Better?” He asked with a soft smile.

She nodded. Though the courage in her heart did not disappeared with the buzz. (Y/n) scooted her body closer to his. Their shoulders, legs, and arms bumping in several places. The blushed rushed back to his, but he didn’t move away from her. Her perfume flooded his senses. Rooting him in his place.

Sorry, but I really had to wake you. See, I decided I must ride you ‘til I break you.

The blush on Shinsou’s cheeks traveled evenly to the rest of his face. He was completely blown away by the words that had just come out of his dear friends’ mouth.

Of course, he adored his friend. He would risk life and limb for the women before him. On the other hand, this hadn’t been the way he had planned to confess to such a lovely girl.

She was rubbing up against him in a way he almost couldn’t say no. Shinsou gently grabbed her by the shoulders and forced himself to pause for a moment. He had to be sincere now. For her sake.

“Wait, wait! What has gotten into you?”

‘Cause Heather says I gots to go. You’re my last meal on death row. Shut your mouth and lose them tighty whiteys”

(Y/n) turned the table on him. She wiggled her way around him. Pinning him underneath her on his bed. There was her scent again, intoxicating his mind. The way she moved to sit upon his waist did the unimaginable to him. He was beginning to feel tight in the jeans he wore.

He shot up again. As much as Shinsou wanted this. The desire for her consent grew bigger than anything poking in his pants. He would hate himself for several eternities if she regretted this in the end.

“Wait.” The word fell firmly to (Y/n) ears. Her giggles became put aside. She starred wide eyes and locked eyes with Shinsou Listening attentively to what he had to say to her.

Shinsou’s eyes closed for a moment. He simply let himself be present in her presence. Allowing him to short his desires and feelings.

“I…” He started but couldn’t finished until another second passed. “I have cherished you… for what seems like forever now. Watching you become such a powerful hero and wonderful friend. I would do anything to protect you from any harm. Even if that means it’s from myself. So, I have to know. You have to be certain.”

Shinsou toned shifted from his love filled admiration to an urgent one. What he said next was a serious matter to him.

“You have to be certain this is what you want. With me. A life and a future with someone like me. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

Shinsou’s room became painfully silent for a few moments. (Y/n) eyes traveled to his chest. Perhaps trying to dissect his rapidly beat heart for sincerity. When she came back to meet his gaze… Shinsou had a feeling she had her answer.

A soft smile graced her lips. Her face was so close to his he could taste the drink she had on his tongue.

And you know, you know, you know. Its cause you’re beautiful. You say you’re numb inside, but I can’t agree. So the worlds unfair. Keep it locked out there. In Here it’s beautiful. Let’s make this beautiful!”

Her lips were on his in an instant. Her hands slide across his chest and up to his neck. Losing themselves in his wild hair. It took him a moment to register what was finally happening. Once he knew, boy. Did he respond. His arms found their way around (Y/n) waist and brought her closer to him. It didn’t take long before the grinding became heated. Kisses became hastily sloppy. Hands were slipping into places never touched by anyone else.

One by one, clothes were beginning to come off.

Tonight, I’m yours. I’m your dead girl walking! Get on all fours! Kiss this dead girl walking. Let’s, go you know the drill. I’m hot and pissed and on the pill. Bow down to the will- Of a dead girl walking!

Shinsou had (Y/n) pinned down to his bed. His pillowed framing her face perfect, though her hair was already becoming a mess. The face she was giving him still droves his desire. He wanted you immediately. It was only a matter of time before Shinsou had his thumb hooked on the pants and panties (Y/n) had chosen to wear. Sliding them off her smooth (S/c) legs. The new cool air rubbing against her sex produced a whimper from her throat. Shinsou chuckled lighty at the reaction.

He then removed his own shirt. Moving to then remove hers. He plucked the buttons one by one. The bra she wore was gone in a second. Revealing her total naked body to him. A sculpture he could marvel in for hours if he was given the time.

Full steam ahead. Take this dead girl walking! Lets break the bed. Rock this dead girl walking. No sleep tonight for you. Better chug that Mountain Dew! Get your ass in gear. Make this whole town disappear.

(Y/n) rose up from her place. Starling Shinsou slightly. He let out a small yelp when he found himself on his back again. His face turned red again when (Y/n) undid the buckle of his pants and ran them down impatiently. As if he would run away when the clock struck 12.

Her mouth found his member way too quickly for Shinsou to take. A loud groan caught him off guard as her wet lips wrapped around him. Her tongue swirling in all the right spots. Another growl ripped through his teeth when the full length of him hit the back of her throat. Combined with rhythmic pumping of her mouth and hand was almost too much for him. Shinsou had to protest for a stop before he would be completely spent.

Sitting up and looking into (Y/n). He couldn’t be filled with anymore lust before her burst. It only took another minute for (Y/n) to lay on her back. Shinsou nestling himself between her legs. Teasing her wet entrance.

A single push at the hip was all it took for him to be completely inside her.

The rest of the night Shinsou and (Y/n) spent their new-found time tangled in each other. Pleasure and it each touch filled with loving passion. They shared every moment they could. Hot breathes, moans and kisses coming from their lips.

#my hero academia #shinso hitoshi #shinsō hitoshi #shinsou x reader #mha shinsou #bnha shinsou

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ohlovelywar · 6 years

Text

Leaves, Camera, Distraction! I p.p.

a/n: for cori cause SHE HIT 5K GO HER @starksmile LOVE YOU CONGRATS AGAIN also this is so late and shitty lmfao IM SO SORRY I TRIED OKAY

summary: distraction: noun a diversion or recreation

paring: peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: cursing (MBLEH ITS ME!!), shitty writing cause i’m so tired cori sweetie i’m so sorry, unedited cause last point, iw spoilers, if you tilt your head and squint you’ll find some angst, mentions of anxiety, fluff

word count: 1,739 words | flash backs are italics and prompt is in bold

Something felt off. It wasn't the fact that Tony was stabbed. Or that Stephan had given up the time stone. Or even that Thanos got away. No, it was something different. Something...wrong. Peter felt it, deep within him. It felt as if he was fading, fading into the air, into the unknown. His breathing picked up ever so slightly as he rubbed his hands, arms, neck. I'm still here. I'm still here. Everything's going to be okay. Mr. Stark is here. He'll know what to do. Everything's o-

"Something's happening." Each head turned to Mantis, hoping to get an explanation when she turned to ash. Quill and Drax's eyes widened as what was left of their team mate floated away into the air in the deserted planet.

"Quill?" Drax called out, turning to ash before Quill could even turn to him. The feeling in Peter became more intense as the seconds passed by.

"Steady Quill," Stark called out, already making his way over to the man left behind.

"Oh man-" Nebula looked down as the last Guardian of the Galaxy on Titian vanished.

"Tony," Strange caught the remainder of the group's attention, "there was no other way." And he joined the others, leaving no trace behind. The feeling took over Peter's body and he suddenly knew what was happening.

"Mr. Stark? I don't feel so good." He was dying.

"You're alright-"

"Save me!" Peter cried, collapsing into his mentor's arms. "I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go." He couldn't die. There were people that needed him, people that he needed. May, Ned, Mj-no matter how many times she pretended not to care-, y/n. He couldn't leave them behind. Not without saying goodbye. And Tony. Oh god, Tony. Tony would blame himself, just like he told Peter a year ago.

"I'm sorry." Peter wanted to say more. He wanted to apologize for not listening to Tony. For getting on the ship. For getting off the bus. For not getting the gauntlet off sooner. He wanted to thank him for the suits. For K.A.R.E.N. For being the father figure he needed. But most importantly, he wanted to tell Tony that he did have a heart, and he wanted to make sure that he wouldn't lose it. But he didn't get to. He turned to ash and was enveloped in darkness.

Peter woke up in a cold sweat, panting as he tried to ground himself. He was alive. he was safe. The snap was reversed. Everything is fine now. He let out a long sigh before checking the time on his phone. 7:05 am. She was going to kill him for calling at such an early hour, but he really needed to hear her voice.

"Hello?" an muffled groan responded after a few rings.

"Get changed."

"What?"

"Get changed! We're going somewhere today."

"Peter, it's like *yawn* five in the morning." Peter grinned as he imagined her y/h/c hair sprawled out over her pillow, eyes closed as she laid content in her bed on this cool, autumn morning.

"That's where you're wrong my sweet girlfriend. It's actually 7:08."

"Shut up jerk." He laughed, not even phased by her sleepy insults.

"Come on! A little early morning adventure never hurt anyone."

"Just because it doesn't actually hurt anyone doesn't mean that we should do it."

"Jake would be so disappointed in you."

"Jake would agree with me!"

"Ya boring!" The sound of his girlfriend's giggles filled his ears, making his anxious heart flutter.

"Come on, please?" he whined. But not his sweet little "I want and need your affection right now" whine. This one was needy. Like a scared child woken up by a nightmare in the middle of the night who's parents won't let him find solace in their bed. She recognized this whine, and it killed her to hear it again.

"Okay," she whispered, upset that she didn't catch on sooner. "Meet you in fifteen." The soothing voice of Peter's girlfriend replaced by the electronic beeps, signaling that she had hung up. Peter let out a sigh, his facade dropping. He slowly tried to get out of bed, afraid his shaky limbs would give away.

Calm down Peter. You're fine now. Just fine.

Time moved slowly to him as he got changed into his Mid-Town sweatshirt and blue jeans.

Everything's fine. Just fine.

He walked out to the kitchen, relieved to not find his aunt there. Deciding against eating, he grabbed a cup of water, hoping the cool liquid would help him snap out of his anxiety.

I'm fine. I'm fine.

He didn't know how long he was in the kitchen for before he heard the faint knock that his girlfriend always makes. He opened up the apartment door and was instantly greeted with her warm smile.

"Hey you. Ready to go?" he simply nodded his head, leading her out of the apartment and locking the door behind him.

The two walked in silence; Peter's anxiety radiating off of him as his girlfriend struggled with what to say. He's been different for a couple months now. She didn't know what it was, he never wanted to talk about it. It was as if something happened to him that day he disappeared from the school bus.

"You know," she broke the silence, gaining the brunette's attention, "you can always talk to me Peter. Doesn't matter what's bothering you, I'm always here for you. And I would never judge you."

"Thanks y/n, but I'm fine, really." He sent her an unconvincing smile. He wanted to tell her, he really did. He wanted to tell her how he can't sleep without thinking he's back on Titian. How he can't close his eyes without feeling like he was back in the soul stone, separated from his loved ones. How Mr. Stark wouldn't let him go on patrol for the past two months because every time Peter would put on his suit, he'd have a panic attack and wouldn't calm down till hours later. How he's falling behind in school because though the world hasn't felt any time pass from the day Peter went missing on the bus, he did. How the only thing that feels even remotely normal to him was his relationship with her. Bu he couldn't. Not yet at least.

"Are you sure?" y/n asked, worried about her boyfriend.

"Yeah. I just...I need a distraction."

"A distraction, huh?" It wasn't long before a small smile found her face, "Do you have your camera with you?"

"Of course. I never leave home without it."

"Perfect!" She grabbed his hand, leading him to a small, fairly deserted park.

"Y/N/N, where are we going?"

"You said you needed a distraction so," she paused, stopping in the center of the park, "we're having a mini photo shoot!" Peter rose his eyebrows.

"But you hate getting your picture taken."

"One: that's cause either your grade rides on it or you're taking it from an unflattering angle or time...or both. And two: yeah I do, but you said you needed a distraction soo.."

"You sure?" he double checked, getting excited as this was a rarity.

"I'm sure," she smiled at him, a little nervous. But hey. It's Peter. You trust him.

The next thirty minutes flew by as Peter directed her on where to go and what to do, utilizing the numerous amounts of fallen leaves in their photos. The couple shared many laughs as they threw leaves at each other in between shots.

"Just one more!" Peter exclaimed, wanting to capture as many photos of the amazing girl in front of him as possible.

"We've already done everything we can!" y/n laughed, glad that her boyfriend was feeling better. Peter looked around, determined to get one last photo.

"How do you feel about being one of those insta-famous people for five minutes?"

"What are you planning Parker?"

"Follow me." He led her to the vacant street beside the park.

"Peter?"

"Sit right here."

"Are you crazy!"

"What?" Y/N's eyes widened as she gestured to their surroundings. "Oh! My bad. May we please sit out in the middle of the street for a picture, my lady?"

"No we cannot sit out in the middle of the street for a picture!!"

"Come on! No one's driving here right not. Besides, I wouldn't let anyone run you over." She pondered over it for a moment before ultimately deciding fuck it.

"You're lucky I love and trust you," she grumbled. She positioned herself on the pavement, looking over her shoulder anxiously for any incoming cars.

"Relax y/n/n," Peter told her. She took a deep breath.

It's fine. I'll be fine. Peter's got this.

"Take the damn picture Peter."

"Smile then!"

"I am!"

"You look like you're being held hostage." She rolled her eyes then gave a small, closed mouth smile. "Now you look like you're being forced to be here."

"I am being forced to be here. Quite literally."

"The longer you take to actually smile, the longer we're gonna be here and the more chances you have of being run over."

"I thought you said you weren't going to let me get run over!"

"I won't! But I'm also not going to lie to you."

"Okay fair."

"Just smile y/n. It's really not that hard. You've been doing it this whole time."

"But could I have almost died taking any of those photos?"

"Okay fair point." Peter looked around again, thinking of things that would make her laugh. "Remember how, on our first date, this old lady tried to hit on me?"

"Oh my god, yeah!" She started giggling. "She was like eighty and trying to get you to take her to brunch the week after and her husband wasn't having it!!" He captured as many photos as he could, making sure to do her genuine smile justice.

"Anddd done!" Y/N stopped howling and went over to Peter to look at the finished products. Suddenly, Peter's spider-senses kicked in, alarming him that something was coming.

"Watch out!" he pulled his girlfriend a side before the racing car could hit the two of them. Y/N gave Peter a look, "See, I told you I wouldn't let you get hit by a car."

"Yeah yeah whatever Parker. Come on, our early morning adventure's not over yet," she said, skipping away as Peter laughed, his anxiety long forgotten about.

Everybody needs a distraction, and Peter was lucky enough to have her be his.

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