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ayybtch · 3 years

Text

Bread

Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader, Baker!AU + Friends to Lovers

Chapter 5 of Made With Love

Word Count: 3,292

Chapter Warnings: Our two favorite idiots are so blind it’s not even funny, lots of yearning, some brief mentions of alcohol consumption towards the end

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for being patient with me on getting this posted. School and work have been crazy, but I’m almost done for the semester so hopefully it won't be as long for the next update. Shout out to my Grandma for sending me her paprikash recipe so I would actually know what I was talking about for this chapter. We literally never speak but she did me a real solid on this one and I will be adding paprikash into my regular cooking schedule once fall hits. Full disclosure though, I literally Googled “What wine pairs with chicken paprikash” and the wines mentioned are what it gave me. Please let me know what you think! I love reading your guys’s comments, it really makes my day.

Hey, so everyone is going to be out on a mission tomorrow night except for me. Any chance I can cash in on that raincheck? There’s a Bewitched marathon happening.

You smiled at Wanda’s message, quickly typing out your response. Definitely! Would you like to join me for bread day tomorrow?

She responded almost immediately. YES!

You couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. She had been wanting to make bread ever since the two of you made snickerdoodles. She brought it up almost constantly, mostly as a joke to get back at you for all of the times you teased her about it.

Up to this point, Wanda refused to accept any of your attempts to say thank you for helping you out through the cupcake debacle, saying that this was the sort of thing that friends were for. It only felt right that this should be the next thing to bake as your own special way of saying thank you.

As excited as you were to spend time with her and teach her how to do this, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly nervous at the same time. Why had Wanda decided to share her sexuality with you after all this time?

Okay, scratch that. You understood why she shared it with you when she did. The real question is what to do with the information now that you had it.

Was it just a general knowledge sort of a deal? Or was this her way of trying to say she was interested?

You groaned and put your head in your hands. This is why you hadn’t dated someone since your last relationship ended. You needed big flashing lights that screamed “I want to date you!” before you’d catch on, and even that didn’t work sometimes. If someone tried to be subtle, you were an absolute lost cause. You did your best to recall every interaction you had with Wanda that could even remotely be considered as her flirting or expressing interest.

She did smile at you a lot, even more than she smiled at Sam and Bucky who she clearly adored. She also certainly didn’t shy away from physical contact and had even initiated it several times. She had also remembered your coffee and bagel order from the one random time it came up weeks ago...

Suddenly, everything started to add up. All of those glances that had left your heart racing, all of those little touches...maybe Wanda was interested in you?

Your heart felt ready to burst out of your chest with joy.

Wanda didn’t arrive at the bakery until almost noon. The majority of the bread had been baked already; the only bread left to make was hers.

The two of you said your hello’s and caught up a bit as she stepped in to put on her apron and began washing her hands. Once the conversation slowed, you started your rundown for today’s bake.

“Bread is actually a lot easier than it looks but there are a couple of points we’re going to need to be careful at. I’ll remind you about them as we go about but I figured it would be good to have them all in your head now.

“We’re going to be very conscientious about temperatures this entire bake in a way we haven’t really needed to before. When we’re dealing with the yeast, we need the milk around 110 to 115o so the yeast activates properly. We also want things to be warm during the rise times, which shouldn’t be too much of an issue given the ovens have been on most of the day. Once it’s in the oven, we aren’t going to mess with it at all until the last couple minutes and that’s only if we need it to brown further.”

Wanda nodded along as you spoke. “I don’t know how much of an actual problem this is because you’re here, but I always hear a lot about overworking or underworking the dough. How do I know if it’s been kneaded enough?”

“Ah, good question! If the dough keeps getting really flat and not holding its shape, it’s underworked. If the dough is overworked, it gets kind of hard and not easy to work with. The good news is that we’re kneading by hand since it’s your first time and it’s a lot less likely to happen that way than in a mixer.”

She looked unconvinced but nodded. “Okay, so where do we begin?”

The first fifteen minutes of the bake flew by quickly. The yeast mixture had been prepared and was almost ready for the rest of the ingredients to be mixed in. Wanda was completely in awe at how the mixture looked.

To be fair to her though, the yeast mixture does look very weird if you’re not used to seeing it.

Once the flour, salt, and eggs were mixed in, the true fun began. Everything was mixed just enough to be combined into a rough, sticky ball of dough before being taken out of the mixer and onto the floured counter. Wanda followed along as you sprinkled some flour on your dough and began to knead, doing her best to mirror your motions.

You watched her out of the corner of your eye as you worked the dough, waiting to see what she would do. It was hard to hold back your giggles as you watched her. She was practically just squeezing the dough in different directions. You gave her a few minutes to see if she would work things out, but eventually, you set your dough down and moved closer to her.

“Here, let me help,” you said. Your hands moved so they were on top of hers, you tried guiding her through the motions, only for things to fail miserably.

“Okay, can I try something that might be a little weird? It’s just that I’m not used to kneading at an angle like that so it’s throwing off my muscle memory.”

She nodded and you adjusted yourself so you were now standing behind her. Your arms slid around either side of her waist and your hands rested on top of hers. This time, your hands knew what they were doing and you were able to help guide her through the motion. Even after she got it, you remained standing behind her, your chin resting against her shoulder.

The feelings that washed over you as you stood there with her were hard to describe. There was nothing necessarily comfortable about the position you were in, but your whole body felt more relaxed than it had all day. At the same time though, everything felt electrifying. You hoped she couldn’t feel the way your heart was thumping against your chest.

It wasn’t until you realized Wanda had paused and turned back slightly to face you slightly that you stepped back. An apology rose up in your throat only to die as you noticed the small smile on her face. You shot a smile back at her before moving back to your spot, turning your attention back to the job at hand.

The rest of the bake went smoothly, despite Wanda’s fretting about if the bread was rising enough. It didn’t take long before you had two perfectly round loaves of bread sitting next to each other on the cooling rack. Wanda had not stopped smiling since they came out of the oven. Even though that was her usual response, this time felt different.

For the second time that day, you were left trying to describe impossible feelings. Was it her eyes that felt different? They were lit beautifully, radiating so much joy it was impossible to not feel just as excited. But how was that any different from usual? Her eyes always captivated you and left you breathless. Maybe it was the new shade of pink lipstick she had on. It was perfectly accentuating the shape of her lips, to the point you couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to feel them pressed against yours.

You may not be able to pinpoint what the look was, all you knew is that you were grateful to be a part of why her smile was so big.

After she finished taking pictures of the loaves, she turned to you. “That was incredible! I had no idea bread could be that simple.”

You nodded along, unable to hold back a smile. “I told you it wasn’t too bad, there are just a couple spots you have to be sure to navigate well. And clearly -” you gestured towards the loaves, “- you did. Maybe I should start worrying about you stealing my job.”

Her laughter filled the kitchen at your teasing.

As her laugher began to die out, her focus turned back on to you. “Okay, so what time were you thinking of coming over? I’m making us dinner and want to try and have it finishing up right around the time you get there.”

You glanced over at the clock and then back to the to-do list written out on the whiteboard above your desk before answering, “I think it’ll probably be close to five if I had to guess. I still have to finish cleaning some stuff here and I promised to go help Charlie work out some menu options for that picnic thing that’s coming up.”

Wanda nodded along, “Are you going to that?”

“I’m working it, so I, unfortunately, don’t have much of a choice.”

She nodded again. “Same here, actually. All of the Avengers are required to be unless there’s some sort of alien invasion again or something…” She trailed off a moment before continuing. “I was planning on making paprikash. Is that okay with you? I don’t know if there’s anything you can’t or don’t like to eat.”

“I’ve actually never had that before so that would be wonderful! I’m pretty easy when it comes to food. The only things I don’t like are mushrooms and zucchini, but I’ll still eat them if I have to.”

Wanda gasped, “You don’t like mushrooms? How do you not like mushrooms?”

You just shrugged, “Okay, I’m actually pretty neutral on mushrooms. I’ll still eat them. I just don’t go out of my way to make them for myself. Zucchini is a firm no, though.”

She gave you a side-eye but relented. “Well, there are no mushrooms or zucchini in this, but just know I’m going to have to keep an eye on you from now on. I don’t know how we’ve made it this far into our friendship without me knowing you’re an anti-mushroom heathen.”

The two of you joked around for a few minutes longer before she left to start preparing for dinner.

Planning the menu with Charlie didn’t take very long, which you were grateful for. He already had a decent idea of what he wanted to do, so the main thing left was to figure out how much food to order to prepare it. The two of you also agreed upon what you needed to make. Most of your responsibilities centered around desserts, specifically pies, though you agreed to make some fresh rolls and soft pretzels as well.

You were thankful for the meeting to end though because it meant the remaining time you had left could be spent getting ready to go see Wanda.

‘Getting ready’ was perhaps a bit dramatic. You were just changing out of your usual work clothes into something a little cuter. It was nothing particularly fancy, but it was an outfit you felt both confident and comfortable in. You had also made sure to pack some toiletries that morning, allowing you to freshen up your deodorant and brush your teeth as well.

As you stepped into the elevator and pressed the button, you couldn’t help but feel a bit jittery. The past few times you’ve made your way to that part of the building you’ve been nervous about the other Avengers not wanting you there. This time though, all of your nerves could be attributed entirely to Wanda. You weren’t sure what to expect of tonight, but you were determined to have a fun night filled with food and good company.

The warm smell of paprika filled the air and made your stomach grumble as soon as you stepped out of the elevator. Once you were inside, you found Wanda in the kitchen, stirring in some additional seasonings.

“This smells incredible,” you said, setting the two loaves of bread down on the counter.

Wanda beamed. “Thanks! This is my great grandmother’s recipe and is one of my favorite things to make.” As she set the spoon down, she walked towards the fridge. “I bought some wine to go along with dinner if you would like some.”

“Yes please, wine sounds amazing right now.”

“I have a chardonnay and a Barolo, which would you prefer?” she asked, turning back towards you.

You shrugged, “Whichever one you want.”

She nodded and pulled out the Barolo. It didn’t take long for the bottle to be opened and to have a glass of wine in your hand.

It wasn’t until you took your first sip that you realized Wanda had also changed. Your breathing hitched as you looked her up and down. Gone were her jeans and old T-shirts, replaced by a pair of cut-off shorts and a stylishly oversized T-shirt. If it weren’t for the fuzzy wool socks on her feet, you’d assume she was camera-ready. Hell, even with the funny socks she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.

You realized you were staring and abruptly began looking around the kitchen, trying to find something to do that would take your mind off of how hot Wanda looked. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Wanda shook her head no. “There’s not really anything to be done, this just needs to simmer for about another five minutes and we’ll be good to go. Why don’t you go have a seat at the table and I’ll be over in just a moment with some bread slices and butter. Once this is ready I’ll bring it in as well.”

You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen and towards the table.

It wasn’t until you were seated that you realized how well the table was set. Both seats had beautiful flatware laid out, with silverware organized neatly to the side. Underneath was a crisp, pure white table cloth. What caught your attention the most though were the two lit candles sitting between your chair and hers. It wasn’t until you noticed the candles that you also noticed the music playing softly in the background.

Everything about the setup screamed ‘fancy first date’.

Before you had much of a chance to dwell on the thought, Wanda arrived with several slices of bread and a small dish of butter. You thanked her before she walked back towards the kitchen. She returned soon after with the pot of paprikash, setting it on the hot pad in the center of the table. She walked around to her seat and soon both of you had your plates filled and began to eat.

It was impossible to hold back a satisfied sigh as you took your first bite. It tasted just as delicious, if not better than it smelled. The chicken was cooked perfectly and all but melted in your mouth. The paprika added a nice rich flavor and added extra depth to the creaminess of the sauce.

“Wanda this is incredible.”

She smiled at you brightly, “If you think it’s good by itself, try dipping the bread with some butter in it.”

You did as she said and this time instead of a satisfied sigh, you let out a satisfied moan. “You are going to have to give me this recipe. This is so good I don’t even know what to say, all I want to do is keep eating.”

Wanda laughed at your enthusiasm. “Tell you what, I’ll teach you how to make it sometime. It’s about time I taught you something in the kitchen.”

Dinner was a blast. The two of you spent more of it laughing and talking than eating. The bottle of Barolo was finished before dinner was done. It didn’t take long before it was replaced by the chardonnay.

Once dinner was over, you fought Wanda to let you help clean up the kitchen. Her argument that guests shouldn’t help was shot down as you pointed out she’s technically a guest in the bakery, yet she always helps clean up after she’s been in there. She grumbled about it but quickly conceded. It didn’t take long for the kitchen to be cleaned up and even less time after that for her to drag you over to the couch.

The first-ever episode of “Bewitched” was halfway finished by the time the two of you had settled into your spots on the couch. Currently, Samantha and Darrin were at his ex-girlfriend's house for a dinner party and the girlfriend was doing everything she could to make Samantha feel inferior. Samantha, of course, wasn’t having it and was willing to fudge her promises of not using magic to level the playing field.

Wanda laughed along perfectly in time with the sitcom track. The more she laughed, the more your attention turned from being on the TV to be on her. This was the most relaxed and happy you had ever seen her. She had a small, almost imperceivable smile that grew as she became more and more emerged into the episode. Each time she laughed, you noticed how her nose would scrunch up in the cutest way and it took everything you had to not lean over and kiss her.

What you wouldn’t give to make her as happy as this show.

It wasn’t until the end credits were about to roll that you forced yourself to look back at the screen, unsure of how she’d respond if she caught you staring.

As the next episode cued up, she reached out and grabbed her glass of wine before turning to face you.“So, what do you think? Could I have been a Samantha in another life?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Definitely, though I can’t see you being willing to hide your powers just because a man wants you to.”

Wanda nearly choked on the sip of wine she had taken. “You got me there.”

She finished the glass and set it back on the table before letting out a loud yawn. “Sorry, I probably should’ve warned you beforehand that wine makes me a little sleepy.” She paused for a moment before she continued, “It also makes me incredibly cuddly…”

A rush of emotions washed over you as you processed her words. Was she asking to come cuddle with you?

The hopeful look in her eye suggested she was.

Pure, unadulterated joy swept over your body and you had to fight the urge to jump up and down from excitement. You did your best to collect yourself before you replied, hoping that the answer was indeed what you were looking for.

“Is that your way of asking if you can come snuggle?”

She smiled at you sheepishly, which made you laugh. You moved over on the couch, moving around some of the throw pillows so you could lay down.

“Well, what are you waiting for then?”

Wanda didn’t hesitate for a moment and soon was laying on top of you, her head resting on your chest. One of your arms wrapped loosely around her back after she settled in.

A comfortable silence fell over you as you laid there together, watching Bewitched until you fell asleep.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff fan fiction

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Note

hey I loved what you wrote for sarahbucky! You are so talented. I was wondering if you are comfortable writing any NSFW content or smut related content for this pairing? If you are I would love you to write something, anything of the sort. If you're not comfortable that's absolutely fine!!

Chasing Water Pumps

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: E Word Count: 5288

Summary: After banishing Sam, Sarah gets Bucky's help reinstalling the boat's water pump.

The water pump sits there on the dock through the morning. It sits there at midday. In the late afternoon, Bucky laughs when Sam almost falls over it as he walks backwards, waving his hands to guide a reversing pickup truck into position. A neighbour bringing spare lumber so they can replace a few rotting boards on the Wilsons’ boat.

Bucky can see—has been able to see all day—that Sam’s itching to just fix the damn pump back into position. Sam’s conscientious, neat, completing one job before moving on to the next, replacing pliers in the toolbox after rewiring the radio, coiling up the cord of a borrowed drill so no one can trip over it. Leaving a hulking piece of machinery just sitting there is killing him. All because Sarah won’t let him touch it.

For Bucky, watching this claim-staking over an old water pump is hilarious. It’s also something he takes absolutely seriously, backing away from the thing the minute Sarah ordered the two of them to quit tinkering and just leave it alone. He’s got no issue ceding to her authority. Oh, he’ll argue with Sam about other parts of the project, but he’s not gonna push back against Sarah. He’s only here for a couple days and she already won his loyalty by letting him bunk on her couch last night. They might be repairing a boat, but Bucky’s not making any waves.

When the sun starts going down and the helpers from the community start heading home to their suppers, almost as many of them shake Bucky’s hand as Sam’s. Bucky feels really good about that. He likes that they’ve become comfortable with him—many of them slapping his Vibranium shoulder as they take his right hand, like it’s just an arm. He likes the lingering warmth of the day and how it’s dried the back of his shirt where he sweat through it. He likes squinting into the sun to watch the vehicles pull away and seeing Sarah standing there, smiling at him. Cupping a hand above his eyes, he smiles back.

“Alright,” Sam says, taking a big step to bring him from boat to land. “Let’s get this water pump back in place.”

Immediately, Sarah comes forward.

“Uh uh, no. That’s not your job.”

“This whole thing is my job,” her brother protests.

Bucky stands on the sidelines, content to witness Sam lose this argument. Getting to study the way the sinking, burning glow of the sun catches on Sarah’s earrings is the equivalent of being handed an ice cream. The breeze that blows her open button-down against her to show him the intimate dip of her waist is the cherry on top of that ice cream. His gaze trails unhurriedly back up to her face and he sees that she’s been watching him admire her. Normally, staring is his default expression, but now his heart hammers with giddy yearning as he holds her eye. She smiles fleetingly before looking back to Sam. Oh right, Sam’s talking. Bucky had kinda tuned him out.

“It won’t take long.”

“No it won’t,” Sarah agrees. “Not if I do it. You’ve messed around with that pump enough for one day.”

“Sarah, come on. Be practical,” Sam pleads. “You can’t do it by yourself.”

“I won’t do it by myself. Bucky here can do the heavy lifting.”

Ok, he’s surprised about that, but when she glances to him, he nods readily. He refuses to meet Sam’s side-eye. He’s sure the message is ‘You traitor.’ Ignoring him, Bucky beams at Sarah.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he tells her.

“And what am I supposed to do?” Sam demands. “Watch?”

“Since you asked,” Sarah informs him, “you’re supposed to go pick your nephews up from AJ’s friend Marco’s house. If they haven’t eaten yet, feed them.”

“But—”

Sam motions indignantly towards Bucky, but Sarah waves away his complaint.

“You asked what I need from you and I told you. Let us get on with what we’ve gotta do here. We’re losing daylight.”

“You heard her, Samuel,” Bucky says, striding to the pump.

The wrench he and Sam passed back and forth while unbolting it is in the top tray of the toolbox when he flips it open. Tucking the wrench into his back pocket, Bucky turns and heaves the pump off the ground. Sarah’s watching. He throws her a smile with a little upward jerk of his chin. She rolls her lips together like she’s hiding her own smile but stands firm until Sam gives up and stalks off across the boatyard.

“You think it’d be cruel to yell after him not to wait up?” Sarah asks Bucky nonchalantly, hand on her hip as the two of them observe her brother’s retreat.

Bucky almost drops the pump before hugging it to himself too tightly, stopping when he hears the metal creak. But he tries to be cool.

“Only if you mean it,” he says.

She spares him a glance that doesn’t tell him either way and walks past, stepping onto the boat.

“You got it?” she asks.

“Yep,” Bucky assures her, adjusting his grip and jumping down onto the deck. Coulda stepped. Wanted to show off. Story of his life since he met Sarah Wilson maybe 36 hours ago.

He follows her into the cabin and she digs through a box of supplies, grabbing a flashlight.

“Might need this soon.”

Her explanation’s unnecessary (the sky’s darkening above them) and Bucky can see the nervousness in it, how she self-consciously plays with the hem of her t-shirt and twists her earring now that they’re together in a semi-enclosed space.

“Unless that arm of yours glows in the dark,” she adds.

“Unfortunately not,” he says with a smile as they duck below deck. His feet clomp sturdily down the steps, but Sarah still looks up at him from the bottom like he might teeter. “You shoulda been there while they were deciding on the specs.”

Sarah laughs, navigating the protruding inner workings of the boat more smoothly than movie spies crossing rooms streaked with red lasers. (Stupidest fucking scenes Bucky’s ever seen.)

“That was in Wakanda, right?”

“Sam told you?”

“He did. I guess you’ve seen a lot. Been a lot of places,” Sarah amends.

For a minute, his throat’s thick. She corrected herself to make sure he knew she wasn’t being nosy about his past. He wouldn’t mind. It’d be fair of her to bring up any worries she had, what with the two of them being alone here. But then, maybe he doesn’t make her nervous in that way. She’s the one who asked him to stay. (Or just told him he was staying more than asked, really.)

“So has Sam,” Bucky points out.

“Yeah, but Sam has to come back here to avoid getting an earful over the phone. Why would you wanna be here? Right here,” she adds, motioning to the spot where the water pump sat until early this morning. Bucky was one of the people who removed it, plus there’s a clear silhouette where the side rests against the boat, inside of which shape the wood’s less weathered, but he’ll be as clueless as Sarah wants if it results in more of this—her hand on his back as she trades places with him to guide him in ahead of her.

“It’s nice here,” he says simply. “Like a holiday.”

The instant he says it, he wants to backtrack. None of this is a holiday for the Wilsons; in spite of the block party atmosphere of the community coming together to restore the boat, they’re doing all this to ensure their livelihood. A good future for Sarah and her boys. She shoots him a benevolent smile like she knows he knows he just put his foot in his mouth. He can only shake his head at himself and carry on.

Squatting, Bucky aligns the holes in the pump’s base with those in the plate it has to mount back onto. They’re a little rusty, but the old blue paint’s just flaking, no problems with the actual integrity of the metal.

“You always do volunteer manual labour on your holidays?” Sarah jokes, putting a hand on his shoulder as she maneuvers around him. She drops to a crouch at his side and directs the beam of the flashlight down onto the pump.

“I like to be busy. I sleep better that way.”

“Until your host’s kids wake you up.”

“Aw, that was no problem.”

“Wrench?” she asks.

“Back pocket.”

Bucky could pass it to her. He could take one hand off the pump, retrieve the wrench, and hold it out for Sarah to grab. Hell, he could take both hands off the pump. The thing’s just sitting here. But he’s selfish, trying to make it look like he has to keep the pump from shifting out of the position he’s put it in, because he wants to find out what Sarah wants. He hasn’t completely thought this through, but some part of him’s saying a good way to find out what Sarah wants is to see if she’ll take the wrench from his back pocket while he’s squatting, jeans hugging his ass.

She laughs softly, looking at the floor.

She slides the wrench out of his pocket.

Now, there’s no actual contact required there, but she has touched him a couple times, so when she asks, “Bolts?” he looks at her in the dim light—flashlight still tilted towards the floor—and tells her, “Front pocket.”

When Sarah elects to maintain the angle of the light by holding the end of the flashlight in her mouth, Bucky thinks she might be capable of cruelty after all; he feels his face go slack at the sight of her lips around a fucking plastic cylinder. The choice leaves her hands free though, which is perfect because she apparently needs to grasp his knee with one for balance while the other goes to his hip, feeling out the line of his pocket. Bucky tries to breathe deep and even. This has gotta be it, the scenario Sam was most worried about when he left them here together.

Mercifully, when Sarah gets her fingers hooked into Bucky’s front pocket, she removes her other hand from his knee and uses it to hold the flashlight. He shifts forward onto his knees so his pocket isn’t pulled so tight and she can get her hand in there. Clearly a bad, terrifying plan now that his dick’s started to stiffen from the lingering image of the flashlight in her mouth and the proximity of her fingers to his crotch. It’s dark. Maybe she won’t see.

“Bolts,” Sarah says, wiggling her fingers deeper. “Nuts too?”

Their eyes meet and she pulls her hand back. Not too fast. Not like she embarrassed herself, saying something she didn’t mean to. Just like she did her bit and now the plan is to see what he’ll do. All he’s really capable of doing for the moment is extracting the nuts and bolts himself, dropping one of each into the raised palm she offers. He takes over with the flashlight and purposely doesn’t touch the end. It’ll drive him crazy if the plastic’s still wet.

“Thanks.”

“Yep.”

He spends three bolts being awkward, just pinching the head of each between his Vibranium fingers to hold them steady while Sarah tightens the nuts with the wrench from underneath the mounting plate. His other hand shines the light right where she needs it. They’re a different team than he and Sam are. Somehow, they can do two parts of the same job in the smallest scale, their hands practically on top of each other without either of them getting in the way. Bucky tries to think about that rather than her leg pressing against his or the fact that the gentle rock of the docked boat reminds him of rocking his hips forward when he… well. Does something he’s trying not to think about.

The wrench is old and though Sarah flicks the adjustment with her thumb to make it grip each nut in turn, it loosens and slips. It makes the task take longer and Sarah have to work harder. With two bolts to go, she sits back and pulls her button-down off, draping it over a pipe. Her t-shirt only catches Bucky’s eye because, even in here, the yellow’s so bright. It’s just the shirt. Absolutely not the shape of Sarah in it.

She leans back in, dropping the second last bolt through the hole. She feels beneath the plate to start the nut up the bolt’s threads with her fingers. With a soft noise of effort, Sarah simultaneously applies the wrench and reawakens Bucky’s erection.

“Sorry for keeping you from dinner,” she says, still tightening in the circle of light he provides. “You must be starving.”

“You have no idea.”

Bucky doesn’t mean for the words to sound the way they do, or maybe he does. Sarah falters, then finishes, but when she leans forward to fit the final bolt in place, the side of her breast presses his arm, and that’s the beginning of the end. Or possibly the end of the middle. Anyway, Bucky lets go of the flashlight and wraps his hand around Sarah’s waist instead. The flashlight must land on its button because the boat goes pitch-black. Why didn’t either of them think to turn the overhead light on? He hears the nut fall from her hand. It’s not one of the nuts he’s concerned with at the moment, so he tells himself they’ll look for it later and focuses on Sarah leaning in to find his lips in the dark.

Kissing her is… Hell, it’s something he’s been thinking about since they met yesterday. When she marched straight over to the boat and then changed her posture the second she spotted him. Bucky appreciates clear body language—it’s something he can do a quick read of and understand. If they’d had more time at that first meeting, of course he would’ve talked to her, flirted with more than a smile, but the smiles they swapped were an effective stopgap until they could end up right here. His mouth on hers. Being careful not to trap her braids under his fingers when he skims them up the back of her neck.

“Um,” Sarah says, breaking away with a shy laugh.

He keeps his hand on her lightly and feels her tilt her head forward like she’s avoiding his eye, even in the dark. Before he can worry that something is wrong, that he’s done something wrong, she lifts her head again and her braids flick, pattering across his forearm like rain.

“You should know,” she says, “since my husband passed, I haven’t really had a lot of time or inclination for this kinda thing, but...”

“That’s ok,” Bucky quickly assures her. “This doesn’t have to be anything. I didn’t mean to push.”

“And you didn’t.”

They sit in silence for a minute before he clears his throat.

“I’ve never… I’ve never had anybody special to me in that way, like your husband was to you, nobody to lose like that. But I do understand… uh, the sort of, um, momentousness… when it’s been a while.”

“You do?”

He can hear humour in her voice. This wasn’t supposed to be a funny conversation. Is he making it that weird?

“Sure. You know about me,” Bucky says quietly. He knows she must. She never asked who he was to Sam to be showing up here, being offered their couch for the night. Never asked about the arm, though he hasn’t tried to hide it. (He can’t remember the last time he just lived like this and the relief is enormous.)

“Tell me about the momentousness.”

He’d like to be able to see her better, but it’s also nice to know she has no idea the way he’s blushing over her request. It’s his own damn fault. Trying to be tactful and generous. Trying to say he knew how she felt, only for Sarah to call him on that. He’s gotta learn that this is not a woman who lets a man speak for her and, if he blunders into doing just that, she doesn’t let him off the hook. And she has a fish business. Who woulda thought.

“Well, it’s, uh…” Bucky rubs the back of his neck with the hand not cupping hers. “It feels like a big deal. Almost like being young all over again.”

“Hey,” she interjects, “some of us are still young.”

He laughs.

“Sorry. I just mean it’s… exciting. You know, thrilling. You wanna do everything at once but you’re also so scared to just…”

“Just…?”

“To just touch her,” he breathes out.

Sarah leans her head back so his hand’s not only touching her neck but holding it up. He laughs again as she straightens. He gets the point; he’s already touching her. So maybe it’s easier than even he thinks it is. Touch. Intimacy. Defiling the belly of a fishing boat with somebody who turned his head so fast he’s the one who needs something bolted back into place. Maybe one on either side of his neck, like Frankenstein’s monster. He sure does feel alive.

“I said I haven’t done this a lot lately,” Sarah says, loosely grasping his wrist. Bucky slips his hand off her neck to line it up with hers, lacing their fingers. “Not that it’s necessarily been that long since the last time I went on a date that ended with more than a kiss at the door.” Abruptly, she laughs. “I’m trying to tell you there’s a condom in the pocket of that shirt I threw over… wherever it got to. If you want this to keep going in a direction where you’d need to use it.”

“Yeah. Yes. I want that.”

“And not just to annoy Sam?”

“Not just.” Bucky smirks in the dark.

“Ok then.”

“I like you, Sarah,” he says as her fingers play with his. He shifts to face her better. “You don’t make things complicated.”

“I think we’ve both had enough of that.”

He can only make a noise of agreement as he comes close enough to feel out her mouth. He’s wishing he’d shaved his face smooth for this—obviously not as certain this encounter was going to happen today, or at all, as the woman who’s been carrying a condom in her pocket—but with a rough tilt of his head as he takes Sarah’s mouth harder, his cheek rubs against hers and she makes a sound into his mouth. A positive sound. An arousing sound. Bucky does something he never does and holds her face in both his hands, metal and skin. Sarah’s go to his hips, hooking into his beltloops, and they both rise up on their knees to press closer.

But she says, “Ouch, kneeled on the wrench,” and Bucky’s only being helpful when he moves his hands to the back of her thighs, running up over her ass as he urges her to her feet with him.

His hands behave themselves a little better when they’re both standing; he keeps them on the small of her back, scrunching her t-shirt in his fingers when she bows into him. He could kiss Sarah for a long time. It’s something he’s always enjoyed, got a lot of practice at when he was young, kissing in the back row of a theatre or savouring every moment until a girl’s curfew with some feverish necking in the alley around the corner from her family’s apartment. Nobody’s counting down the minutes on Bucky’s time with Sarah, so it’s looking like he might be able to just keep dragging his lips across hers for ages, stroking his tongue into her mouth. The geography decides otherwise.

He hears the speedboat’s motor approaching long before he really makes sense of the noise. That happens when the choppy wake hits Sarah’s docked boat, tossing her forward against him.

Alright, tossing him forward. He’s the one whose sea legs are for shit.

It’s evident that she feels his erection against her stomach. She’d have to be really unfamiliar with how this dance went not to notice with the way he’s swelling for her.

“Yeah?” Bucky checks when Sarah digs her fingers into his hips to hold him to her body.

“Yeah.”

He pulls out of her embrace to hunt down that shirt.

“You know, I’ve done this before.”

“I know. I’ve met your kids.” His voice says he’s joking even as his hands move desperately, caressing the boat’s innards in search of soft cotton.

“I mean specifically on this boat,” Sarah confesses, laughing.

Bucky hears a pair of thumps he determines to have been her shoes hitting the floor after the next sound he hears is her unzipping her pants. Wildly, he snatches her shirt from the pipe and dumps the condom out of the pocket and into his hand. He forces himself to calmly replace the shirt where he got it from so she can find it after—just the thought of there being an after has him hardening further.

“It’s startin’ to feel like I’m not so special,” he teases, lurching back to her when the speedboat seemingly swings around upriver and makes a second pass, causing the ground to slope once more.

“You might be,” she teases back. While his legs are tensed to keep his balance, Sarah has to be stretching up on her toes to brush her lips over his. “We’re gonna see about that.”

Her hands curl around the back of his neck as she presses up into the kiss. Bucky groans and gropes for her hips, condom caught between two fingers. His hands run over the sides of her underwear, but it’s mostly skin he touches. Warm and smooth. Kissing Sarah deeply, he traces the soft grooves of stretchmarks, signs of her body’s endurance. She’s given birth twice, lost her partner, come through the Blip and out the other side. This is a survivor’s body. Although she didn’t remove her shirt along with her pants, Bucky breaks the kiss to strip off his. With trembling fingers, he guides her hand from his neck to his shoulder, letting her feel the scars.

Sarah grazes her palm over him. It isn’t hesitant and it isn’t harsh. She touches the place where metal and skin converge the same way she’s touched his neck, his knee. Her other hand strokes over his chest, dawdling to outline his dog tags, then sliding lower. Her fingertips are so light on his abdomen that they almost tickle. The river flows around and against the boat in faint slaps. Sarah’s hand falls to fondle his erection and he gasps into the stillness.

He crowds into her and she presses back against the wall of the boat.

“Is it too cold?” he wonders.

“Cold?” she asks distractedly, popping open the button of his jeans. “No, I’m good.”

Smiling to himself, Bucky ducks his head until they’re almost kissing.

“Ok,” he says. “Well, you let me know.”

His hand wanders from her hip, down, then up her inner thigh. Sarah shivers but doesn’t say anything about being cold, so, breathing harder, Bucky touches his fingers to her underwear between her legs. He can tell she finds his tentativeness a little funny—she exhales a soft laugh—but he needs this short pause to stop him from getting too eager. Though he didn’t want to clarify, he’s figuring that Sarah probably had sex on this boat during her teenage years, and he really doesn’t want his touch to remind her of some adolescent boy’s horny fumblings. Not when the setting’s already bringing up memories for her.

“No heckling,” he jokingly protests.

“I’m not, I swear I’m not.”

He can hear the humour in her voice and he likes the way her words hitch into a panted breath when he relocates his hand to her stomach and nudges his fingers under the band of her underwear.

“Second thoughts?” Bucky asks before he touches her anywhere too interesting.

“Nope. Just a lotta thoughts about you lifting heavy loads off trucks and workin’ a wrench.”

“Yeah?” He pushes his face up under her jaw, kisses there while she tilts her chin to give him room. “You been thinkin’ I might be good with my hands, Sarah?”

He hears her shaky breath when he says her name and thinks there’s a chance he’s not too bad at this. Even now. Not with somebody he seemed to emotionally fall right into step with the instant they clapped eyes on each other.

“No might about it. I’ve been watching you for two days. I know you’re good with your hands.”

Pressing his mouth hard to hers, Bucky slides his fingers down towards warmth and, it turns out, wetness. He groans against her mouth and she jerks his zipper down with demanding fingers. Wedging her hands between his skin and his clothes, Sarah begins forcing his jeans and underwear off together. Even as he’s aching for her to get him naked, he’s gathering her body against his, arm wrapped securely around her back as his fingers slip through her arousal. He curls two fingers inside her and her hips jolt in an apparently automatic attempt to get him deeper. She tries to widen her legs for him, but his hand’s intrusion has stretched her underwear across her upper thighs, so he plucks at them hastily until they fall and she kicks them aside. His own bottom layers are hanging on around his knees. Bucky can’t be fucked to deal with that. He’s punched through a lot of walls rather than going through doors; he knows what is and isn’t a serious obstacle.

Sarah lifts her thigh to his hip and their mouths part with a ragged, shared breath. The Vibranium arm around her supports her—metal fingers clamped tight on the condom between them—as his other hand works her with more pressure when she asks for it in a moan.

“Can I get you off like this, or you want me some other way?” he pants.

It’s like Steve used to say about damn near everything—Bucky could do this all day. He withdraws his fingers from inside her to scrub his fingertips up and down over her clit.

“I’m sure you can,” Sarah says, chest heaving as her hips sway in response to his touch, “but…”

Her hands, which had climbed to his arms after undressing his bottom half, creep lower. The grip of one hand catches in his elbow, thumb to his pulse. The other wraps around his straining cock.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But.”

Insistent on putting on the condom himself, he does it with one arm still encircling Sarah. While he’s tearing it open, he drops his face to her neck again. She sighs as he kisses down her throat and goes mmm when he licks along her collarbone. She’s sweaty, like him.

Though Bucky’s just dying to sink into her, holding her this close is a whole other kind of satisfying. He flicks the condom wrapper away and dips his head, taking hold of the front of Sarah’s yellow t-shirt with his teeth.

“Bucky! What…?”

But her hand pats the back of his head in time with her laughter as he drags the material up until it stays put above her breasts. Tragically, the ghost of Sarah’s horny teenage encounter on this boat possesses him and he’s compelled to mash his face into her cleavage as soon as it’s exposed. He rubs his lips over her breast and she takes the condom from him, reaching between them to roll it down his cock. The feel of her fist makes him grunt into her chest.

“You ready?” Sarah asks him.

Bucky lifts his head and looks at her. It’s dark, but not too dark to judge by her expression that she’s not just asking casually. This isn’t a carefree, youthful hookup—a couple teenagers sneaking onto a parent’s boat or perfecting their hickey-making technique in an alley. Is he ready? He hasn’t been. Not for the occasional assessing stare of a stranger on the sidewalk, or for dating apps and the staggeringly forward pictures people send in response to a simple ‘hi,’ or even for the low-stakes combo of beers and Battleship. But now? For Sarah?

“Yeah,” Bucky states, loud and clear, angling his hips forward when she takes her hands away.

“Alright,” she says, “so am I.”

He kisses her. He believes her.

He grips the underside of her raised thigh with one hand and his dick with the other, bending his knees slightly before pressing up into her. Heat slinks up his chest and twines around his neck like a scarf. Despite the tripping hazard of his pants around his legs, Bucky shuffles forward, holding Sarah so close. She doesn’t make a sound as he fills her, but when he pulls out and thrusts again, an uuuh catches in her throat. God, it feels good to be back in business.

Fingers digging into her leg and her ass, Bucky rocks his hips steadily, huffing sharply through his nose. Sarah’s hands move all over him. They’re on his shoulders, then squeezing his arms; grabbing his hips to encourage him to drive into her harder, then seizing his ass to hold him deep. When he does something good, he feels her tighten on his cock, a quick clutch and release. When he does something really good, she moans so loud the back of his neck tingles and he has to summon every bit of discipline he has not to just let go now.

The feel of the muscles in Sarah’s leg and ass flexing to sync the rhythm of their hips when things get rougher makes Bucky’s eyes roll back. He lifts her off the ground, thighs in his hands as he slings his hips sharply forward. Sarah curls into him, nipping one shoulder as she cups her hand over the metal of the other one. Her breasts bounce against his chest. He pins her between his groin and the boat and feels (and hears) it the second the motion of his hips drags at her clit.

“Bucky!” she gasps. “Don’t—”

“Stop?” he guesses, grinning even as he pants, even as he shifts his feet to make sure they’re gonna stay under him until this is over and he can set her down gently.

Sarah nods rapidly and Bucky keeps the closeness but progresses to fast, shallow thrusts. They should hum, like a machine, like a piston, like a pump, because that’s what it feels like, fucking her and falling for her, doing their dance with just the right friction. How it really sounds is wet, filthy, oh, but her smile is beautiful as she strives, fingers tangled in his dog tags. She comes calling his name. He’s right here, right there with her. She’s clenching so firmly around him that the pleasure might not end and he’ll just have to stay here on this boat, with her, and be Bucky, and get used to the luxury of it making sense again, his name in the mouth of somebody who needs him and wants him and could know him, after a few more nights on her couch and mornings with her kids. He could stand the sound of her name leaving his mouth every single goddamn day, but he’s gonna start with one day, this day, right now.

He says, “Sarah,” and wraps his arms around her, and hopes those arms feel strong.

#Anon you knew what you wanted and you asked for it nicely and I respect that #my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #Sarah Wilson #bucky x sarah #sarahbucky

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 3 years

Text

Let Me Get Close To You

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “wrong number” square. I sat down to write this a couple of days ago & just couldn’t stop - I hope you guys enjoy the cute little verse I created (that I’ll more than likely revisit soon!!). Here’s my bingo card - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 7K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Summary:

Stuck with the worst professor for Nuclear Science, Peter tries to vent his frustrations to Ned - only to send a desperate text message to Tony Stark, instead. When an immediate spark and so many things in common make it easy for Peter to fall further for the elegant genius, what’s the worst that could really happen?

Or: the one where Peter texts the wrong number & romance ensues.

Read on AO3 here.

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Fuming from a frustrating Nuclear Science class, Peter maturely stomped his way out of the engineering building. They were only two weeks into the semester and the old man already had Peter on edge. His major revolved around the class and his ability to get the most out of the information. The dinosaur that stood at the front of the lecture hall every day hadn’t had an original thought since the 90s and refused to see when others did. Much like every old white man, Dr. Milner’s ideas were the be all end all of a science that changed by the millisecond.

Still pretty new to campus after a late sophomore year transfer, Peter didn’t have many people to turn to that weren’t his nerdy and standoffish teammates on the Academic Decathlon team – most of those guys lived in a world a couple steps from the norm, happily keeping to themselves. Though Peter existed there eighty percent of the time, his need to be social and fill a space in the real world made it impossible to commit to that sort of isolation fully. Straddling the line made it difficult to exist on either side – Peter’s favorite pieces of himself were what kept people away, no matter the lifestyle.

With his mind so heavy with all sorts of negativity, Peter suddenly found himself homesick; he spent so much of his life trying to escape the streets of New York – so far from home now, Peter missed them desperately. Thinking about his tangible connection to his favorite urban wasteland, Peter pulled his phone out and hastily typed in Ned’s new number.

Peter Parker [1:23PM]: Hi, I hate it here. Peter Parker [1:24PM]: Dr. Milner is out to get free thinkers. I may not survive the next fourteen weeks.

Peter already felt a little better after typing the words – the mere ability to get one of his many worries off his chest did wonders. Until his phone pinged with a new text message notification, of course.

Nimble fingers pulled the phone from his pocket, his eyes carelessly looking over the screen as it unlocked. Expecting to see Ned’s name there, Peter almost threw the phone to the ground when Siri’s suggestion registered.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:26PM]: Hi stranger! I think this was meant for someone else, but I too think Dr. Milner is out to squash any new idea that doesn’t fit the mold. In his forty-year career, he hasn’t changed a bit.

Another text message was below it, but Peter forced himself to stop reading – his heart felt like it might beat out of his chest already, too much excitement at once couldn’t be good. Out of all the numbers he could’ve accidentally typed, Tony Stark, New York’s genius and resident beauty, Peter’s secret (though not so much) crush, ended up on the other side of the line. The unbelievability of the idea made Peter consider a well thought out prank. Then again, how did any of his fellow classmates know Tony Stark’s personal number?

Sucking in a deep breath, Peter made himself look at the second text message waiting unread.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:27PM]: I’m not sure how you got this number, but I sincerely hope you make it out alive. If you’re in Milner’s class, you’re on the Nuclear track, which means you must be smart. Trust me, the world needs your future contributions, whatever they might be.

Peter gripped the phone a little harder after reading through the second message over and over again. He let his eyes take in each of the words, wondering, if it really was Tony Stark, how anyone ever survived talking to him. In so few sentences, Peter already felt discombobulated, both more confident and turned around than just seconds before. Aside from his infatuation with the man, Peter understood Tony Stark’s contributions to the technology community and the world at large more than most.

It took him a few minutes to convince himself to text back – every time he tried to type something, his fingers froze just centimeters above the screen. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask to make sure he wasn’t getting catfished. Instead, Peter took the direct route, his courage obviously all or nothing in the face of something as big as an accidental interaction with Tony Stark.

Peter Parker [1:35PM]: Holy crap – excuse me for the bluntness, but is this really Tony Stark? Siri doesn’t often get things wrong, especially since I souped her up. But I’m sure you can understand the apprehension. Peter Parker [1:37PM]: Would you be up for answering a few questions just to make sure?

The tip of his finger tapped against the screen impatiently after he hit the send button, his nerves and the not-so-subtle excitement were barely contained under the surface of his skin. He couldn’t remember a time where feeling alive was so prominent.

A smile slipped across his lips when, a moment later, three consecutive texts vibrated Peter’s phone in succession.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:40PM]: You souped up Siri? Steve Jobs is probably turning over in his grave right now. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:41PM]: I think I’m the one that should be asking the questions, don’t you think? How did you even get this number, Peter Parker? It’s a private line. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:42PM]: I am, though – Tony Stark, I mean.

Peter Parker [1:45PM]: Reconfiguring tech is kind of my thing. I used to dumpster dive in high school – you’d be surprised by the cool pieces of technology people put in their trash. Peter Parker [1:46PM]: Oh, bringing out the big guns – I’m happy to see Siri without my latest addition works for others, too. Peter Parker [1:47PM]: It was an accident, sending those first texts to you. My friend in New York just started a new job that came with a paid phone. I still haven’t saved the number. You are one off from him. Peter Parker [1:48PM]: Alright, Tony Stark. Tell me what campus I’m on.

Maybe – Tony Stark [1:53PM]: I’m not surprised by anything human beings do, especially in New York City. Throwing out a perfectly good iPod is certainly not the weirdest thing I’ve heard of. Did you make anything interesting in your trash conversion adventures? Maybe – Tony Stark [1:54PM]: You talk a big game, Mr. Parker. Can you walk the walk, too? Maybe – Tony Stark [1:55PM]: He must be on my payroll, then. The bank of numbers my employees have come from my personal network. Maybe – Tony Stark [1:57PM]: That’s an easy one. You’re at MIT – Milner was there when I was a student. The only thing that’s probably different between then and now is the amount of hair the old bag has.

Peter Parker [2:01PM]: You’re not wrong, Mr. Stark. I made things that helped me be self-sufficient. I grew up really poor and couldn’t afford the things everyone else had – so I figured out how all the tech worked and made my own. I’ve been using a ten-year-old iPhone for ages. Peter Parker [2:03PM]: You bet. Are you challenging me? Peter Parker [2:04PM]: He is, actually. He started in an entry level position two weeks ago. Peter Parker [2:06PM]: It’s gross, isn’t it? I’m glad we’ve moved past projectors in the classroom – the hair on his hand would make for a distracting shadow. Peter Parker [2:07PM]: Okay, okay. I think I’m convinced. One more test, though – send me a picture.

Maybe – Tony Stark [2:14PM]: Oh boy, none of that Mr. Stark shit. As far as you’re concerned, I’m Tony. Only Tony. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:15PM]: You made your own. That’s – impressive. I’m impressed and more than a little curious. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:17PM]: Challenging you, no. Enticing you, yes. I’m visiting Cambridge to do a guest lecture series next week. Come see what Stark Industries is up to – I’d love to hear what you think. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:18PM]: It was as bad as you think. Maybe – Tony Stark [2:20PM]: Okay, Peter Parker. [IMAGE ATTACHED]

A gasp of shock left Peter’s mouth when he opened the last text to find a smirking Tony Stark looking right at him. To prove the time and date, Tony held up the New York Times, his free hand pointing to the headline Peter read on his phone earlier that morning. After the shock of actually talking to Tony Stark wore off, Peter let himself take in the picture and all of its details.

Tony’s desk was largely visible in the shot – pens and stacks of paper littered the surface, a few rogue pieces of tech ready to be fiddled with acted as paper weights and grungy aesthetic. The man himself was breath taking – his glasses were a deep violet, offset beautifully by the crisp white shirt and black waistcoat covering Tony’s upper body. A light purple tie was loosely knotted at his throat, as if he fiddled with it while working just to keep his hands busy.

Without much thought, Peter saved the photo and added Tony to his contacts before replying – there was no reason not to trust the man, the spark in his shiny hazel eyes seemed to genuine and real to even question.

Peter Parker [2:25PM]: Only Tony, got it. Peter Parker [2:26PM]: Curiosity is good – keeps you fresh and on your toes. Peter Parker [2:27PM]: Oh, I see. You want a chance to impress me. I like that. Not sure what my opinion is going to do for you, but I’ll be happy to share it. Peter Parker [2:29PM]: Gross. Peter Parker [2:30PM]: I’m – you’re… Wow. You really are Tony Stark.

Tony Stark [2:37PM]: I think you’ll have no problems keeping me on my toes, Peter. Tony Stark [2:38PM]: I have a feeling your opinion is one that I’ll be very interested in. You’ve been nothing but blunt this entire conversation, I know I’m getting the real deal stuff. Tony Stark [2:40PM]: I am. I really am Tony Stark. Tony Stark [2:41PM]: It’s your turn, Peter Parker. What face belongs to that beautiful brain of yours?

Forcing himself to breath, Peter looked around the room for the best spot to return the favor. The bed was a hard no, he didn’t want to send the wrong vibe to a person who could easily have whomever they wanted. His desk was small, but meticulously organized – his study materials open and ready for a night of reviewing the only thing obscuring the surface. It was obvious Tony appreciated his brain, it seemed pertinent to take advantage.

After a few attempts, Peter found the perfect angle to catch the light in his eyes, making them shine brightly in the camera. He thanked the clothing gods that he chose a well fitted three-button Henley in his haste to get out the door that morning. The feeling of satisfaction was new, but not unwelcome – he wanted to send Tony the photo; for once, he knew it would impress.

Peter Parker [2:55PM]: Keeping implies longevity. Are you planning on sticking around? Peter Parker [2:56PM]: My brain to mouth filter runs at less than 10% at all times. It has brought me more trouble than shutting up ever would. Peter Parker [2:27PM]: You’re gorgeous. Violet is a nice color on you. Peter Parker [2:29PM]: What do you think? [IMAGE ATTACHED]

Tony Stark [ 2:37PM]: Yes. I think that’s the answer to that question. You’ve presented a puzzle I want to solve. Tony Stark [2:38PM]: Shutting up never got anyone anywhere. The noise we create is what shapes us. Tony Stark [2:40PM]: Thank you – I have a lot of it in my wardrobe. Tony Stark [2:44PM]: & you called me gorgeous; Peter Parker, you’re a stunner.

Peter Parker [2:51PM]: You’re a scientist, you do that for a living. What makes me so different? Peter Parker [2:52PM]: That’s a refreshing opinion. I like the way you think, Only Tony. Peter Parker [2:54PM]: That honestly doesn’t surprise me. Peter Parker [2:55PM]: Do you tell the person who made you blush that you’re blushing? I don’t remember that standard operating procedure.

Tony Stark [3:01PM]: My intrigue is of a personal nature only – the puzzle you pose is of a different sort. Usually, I think and think and think until I solve whatever the problem is. With you, I want to gather all the clues and take it apart piece by piece. Tony Stark [3:02PM]: That’s a little heavy for only knowing each other a couple of hours, but when you know, you know. Tony Stark [3:03PM]: Not usually, but I have a feeling you’re an exception to a lot of things, Peter Parker.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Peter continued to exchange flirty text messages back and forth with Tony – the mood stayed open and easy as the time passed. The older man helped Peter get through Nuclear Dynamics and three hours of decathlon practice. For all the brains Tony had, Peter was surprised to find humor and a bit of insecurity, too. Tony let himself go on tangents and make dad jokes that were a step away from being obscene.

That trend continued for the rest of the week and well into the weekend. By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, Peter knew Tony’s schedule, half the newest late-night discoveries, and the way Mr. Sweet Tooth took his sugary coffee. Though a line of attraction and want existed, Peter was happy to know Tony as a person without the ability to act on the obvious tension between them. And while he appreciated the wholistic way they were coming to know each other, Peter couldn’t wait to see Tony throughout the week, either.

The older man seemed to share his sentiment – the shrill notification of a text message received pulled Peter out of his thoughts.

Tony Stark [7:30PM]: Hey, Pete! I present at 5:30 tomorrow afternoon. Want to grab something to eat afterwards? Tony Stark [7:31PM]: I’m impatient to get back to Hogan’s and thought you might appreciate his culinary prowess.

Peter Parker [7:35PM]: Tony – this is the fourth time you’ve reminded me about your presentation. I’ll be there. For dinner, too. Peter Parker [7:36PM]: Culinary prowess; if it merits that title, I’m sure it’ll be worth it.

Tony Stark [7:42PM]: I know – I just get some performance anxiety. It helps to remind myself that you’re going to be there. Tony Stark [7:43PM]: It is. Hap is an old friend of mine. He left MIT to go make his restaurant dreams happen and has been stupidly happy ever since.

Peter Parker [7:47PM]: I get it – I’ll gladly be your security blanket, Tony. Peter Parker [7:48PM]: Something tells me there’s more to that story, but I’m sure you’ll tell me one day. I’m excited to try it. Should I look up the menu beforehand, or let it be a surprise?

Tony Stark [7:55PM]: I like the sound of that. I’ve pictured having you in my arms often. Tony Stark [7:57PM]: There’s always more to the story, Pete. Let it be a surprise! In fact, I’ll order for you to make sure you get the whole newbie experience.

Peter Parker [8:05PM]: I’ll boldly say you can have me in your arms as often as you like. Peter Parker [8:06PM]: The newbie experience – there hasn’t been a time in my life where that’s been a good thing. Peter Parker [8:07PM]: Yet. Surprisingly – I trust you.

The next day went by quickly – Peter took a quiz in Nuclear Science and dug into his other two classes to keep his mind focused on anything other than Tony’s imminent presence. His last class was a core history class, so he gladly tucked into the reading the professor let them loose to do. The chime of his alarm broke through Peter’s fog a couple pages from the end of his assignment. Though he liked to be ahead, Peter gladly took the extra few minutes to get himself together before heading to MIT’s presentation hall.

Decked out in his finest pair of black jeans, a blue denim short-sleeve button down, and solid black high-top Converse on his feet, Peter walked the few minutes it took to get back onto campus from his small apartment. Unsurprisingly, a line was formed out the door of students hoping to get into the presentation last minute. Tony told him earlier in the week that they waited to advertise his appearance until the a few hours before to stop the masses from flocking. To Peter, the time restriction seemed to only make it worse.

In Tony’s excitement to have Peter there, the older man set aside a ticket for him – instead of joining the line like he might’ve without Tony’s insistence, Peter walked straight into the cool auditorium, snagging a seat at the end of a row located dead center in the auditorium. The vantage point was perfect – Peter wouldn’t have any trouble catching Tony’s eye as he spoke. Grinning at his access to such a simple pleasure, Peter relaxed back into the seat, passing the time until Tony took the stage by watching the crowd flood in around him.

It wasn’t long before the lights were dimming and a sweaty, high ranking alumnus gave Tony Stark a mediocre welcome onto the stage. The crowd broke out into a cheer that more than made up for the old man’s subpar words. Tony timed his entrance perfectly; he walked out as the energy rose, the shift in the crowd’s tension working to enhance everyone’s excitement. Peter found himself glued to the man, who until that moment, existed entirely on the other side of the phone – he didn’t want to miss a single second of full-body absorption.

A black suit coat sat snuggly on Tony’s shoulders, a singular button keeping the sides closed. His dark hair was elegantly styled, the bed-head look enhancing the easy-going style Peter knew Tony strived for. The facial hair Peter came to truly appreciate over the last few days of texting drew attention to his sharp cheekbones. Tony seemed genuinely happy to be there if the beaming smile on his face said anything at all. With a few claps and the corniest joke, the older man got the crowd under control, proceeding onto his speech with an effortless transition.

As expected, Peter found himself interested from the very beginning. Tony’s new work on energy and its uses amongst transportation and city overhaul was ingenious – when things got up and running, New York’s power grid would run completely on sustainable energy. So many thoughts flashed across the front of Peter’s mind – he wondered if Tony would let him take a look at the blueprints. He might not have much to contribute, yet Peter understood the opportunity for learning and development when it presented itself.

By the end of Tony’s presentation, Peter was overjoyed to know that he wouldn’t need to feign interest in the topics Tony brought to the table. For a while, Stark Industries went through a slump of working on weapons and junky tech Peter found in the trash more often than he ever wanted to admit. It felt good to be excited about something new coming from the company – Tony Stark was the smartest person in his field, anything less than almost perfect just didn’t do the man and his ideas justice.

After fielding a lot more questions than Peter expected, Tony headed off the stage with a roar of applause – the genius wasn’t a household name for nothing. Smiling at the thought, Peter pulled his phone out; he got to see behind the curtain more than others – he felt a sudden surge of gratefulness at the fact. Every person around him would do anything for the privilege; taking that for granted just wouldn’t do.

Peter Parker [6:45PM]: You’re an incredible public speaker, Tony. Peter Parker [6:46PM]: Thanks for making me come!

Tony Stark [6:49PM]: How inappropriate of me is it to say that this isn’t the only time I plan to make you come?

Peter Parker [6:55PM]: Very, but it’s appreciated, nonetheless. I’ll meet you over by the Engineering building whenever you’re done trying to outrun your fans.

Tony Stark [7:00PM]: You’re fucking hilarious. I’ll meet you there in five.

True to his word, Tony snuck up behind Peter a few minutes later – soft palms that gave way to well-earned callouses pressed against Peter’s cheeks as Tony covered his eyes. The mere fact that Tony was there at all was surprise enough; the touches and softly whispered “Hello, Pete,” in his ear felt like more than enough to cause a coronary.

Shaking his head to clear it, Peter turned in Tony’s arms, a huge grin playing across his lips. With the way they were standing now, Peter’s chest was pressed delightfully against Tony’s – he felt each and every one of Tony’s inhales of oxygen and exhales of carbon dioxide that brought Peter’s attention to the firm muscles pressing and pulling the man’s abdomen. His breath caught when Tony palmed his cheek, their mouths mere inches apart. Despite not actually knowing each other, Peter felt comfortable in Tony’s embrace.

“Hey, Tony,” Peter finally replied after allowing his breath to mingle with Tony’s. As they stood there pressed together, neither could decipher where one started and the other began. The thought made his grin grow a little wider, the courage inside of him pulsing a little more boldly with life. “You were amazing up there.”

Tony remained perfectly still; his limbs seemingly frozen in a clench to keep Peter close to him. His grip was firm, both the hand on Peter’s hip and his late day stubbled cheek. Like the man himself, Tony’s touch left something behind that kept Peter on the hook, always seeking more. He half expected for Tony to lean in and slot their lips together – his deepest desires and tangible wants were starting to collide in such close proximity.

Instead, Peter’s smile was returned with quirked cheeks and bright hazel eyes. “You weren’t too bored?” Tony asked, his voice soft in the small space between them. His thumb swiped constantly across Peter’s cheek, the obvious need to move apparent, even in such an intimate situation.

Chuckling lightly, Peter shook his head. “So far from bored. My thesis research is all about sustainable energy – you had me interested from the very beginning,” Peter replied almost immediately, not caring that his excitement clearly shone through in the pitch of his voice. The way he was leaning into Tony’s touch, Peter didn’t have much of a chance to disguise his truth, anyway.

“You’re so much smarter than you give yourself credit for – I can tell already.” Tony’s words were mumbled almost as if the older man was embarrassed to say them – to hand out such a compliment to someone other than himself. And yet – Tony’s hesitation made the statement mean so much more; the rarity of such kind words (despite being spoken so softly) did nothing but make Peter want to melt into Tony even further.

Before things could get too mushy or physical, Peter took a large step out of Tony’s arms – begrudgingly, the need for space was prominent if they ever wanted the night to continue. Never mind the fact that paparazzi were constantly hounding and following Tony wherever the man went. Though he was deemed an appropriate companion at the time, Peter was more than sure the public would not agree.

With that thought in mind, Peter shot Tony a shy smile – “I’m pretty famished. Want to show me what Hogan’s is all about?”

They spent the ten-minute walk talking about the presentation – Tony grilled Peter about a few of the technical parts, while Peter drooled a little bit over the projected uses of Tony’s new energy storage and production. Like two nerdy peas in a pod, neither could help themselves – geeking out and talking about something they were both interested in made the rest of the world melt away. Peter might’ve kept on his tangent if it weren’t for a tall, thickly built man clearing his throat.

Looking up at the noise, Peter realized they’d walked a few blocks already and were standing in the lobby of a well-maintained hole in the wall that radiated the most delicious smells. Grease and cheese and freshly dropped French fries hit his senses all at once – there was no doubt that whatever they were about to consume would be more than delicious.

Peter was seconds away from wiping drool from his chin when Tony broke out into action. He took the couple of steps between their current position and the hostess stand to wrap who could only be Happy in a firm, breathtaking hug. “Happy, my man. It’s so good to see you,” Tony exclaimed as he stepped away, an adorable look in his eyes. “I’ve been talking this place up to Peter here, thought I’d cash in on your good will.”

Suddenly, all eyes were on Peter – Tony looked at him like something he couldn’t wait to deconstruct, while Happy tilted his head curiously, as if the one glance would tell him all he needed to know about Peter Parker. Unwillingly to stand there like an animal on display, Peter broke through the weird with a soft laugh and a light wave.

“Nice to meet you, Happy. Tony’s been selling me on your food for days now. I can’t wait to try it,” Peter said, his shoulders rolling back to help him stand a little taller. Though he had nothing to prove to the total stranger in front of him, Peter couldn’t help but want to make a good impression – Happy obviously meant something to Tony; their comradery and easy affection said that without much effort.

There was a moment where all three guys seemed to look between each other – Peter watched with bated breath as Tony and Happy carried on a silent conversation with just a few blinks and forehead crinkles. By the time Peter understood what was happening, Happy stepped a little closer to him, his big hand reaching out for what could only be a handshake. Without hesitating, Peter took it – for whatever reason, the handshake felt monumental; like with the one touch, he beat the level boss and gained access to the next one.

“Good to meet you, too. Tony’s good about that sort of advertisement – we probably wouldn’t have made it without his ugly mug around at the beginning,” Happy replied. “You guys know what you want? I’ll get it on the grill personally.”

At that point, Tony stepped back into the spotlight and grabbed the reins – he ordered everything at rapid fire speed, like the menu existed as a hard copy in Tony’s mind. Considering the warmth of the older man’s welcome and Happy’s cryptic words, Peter didn’t doubt that Tony was a regular – more than likely a founding customer, even.

It took no time at all for their food to come out to the small table in the corner Tony led him to. The tray was piled with an abundance of food – cheese steaks, fries, burgers, even a couple of desserts littered the table as Tony unpacked their haul. Peter’s eyes were wide, his mouth watering with a want that only Zap’s Bodega could illicit before. “This – it all looks amazing,” Peter babbled, his stomach both hungry and overwhelmed by everything in front of him.

“Just wait until you taste it. Happy used to crank out these cheesesteaks on the little hot plate we had in our dorm room. They were excellent, but the addition of the flattop has made them unbeatable.”

Unable to decide what smelled the best, Peter grabbed whatever was nearest to him. His fingers wrapped around the greasy paper of the aforementioned cheesesteak, his mouth watering even more. “So, you and Happy were roommates at MIT?” Peter asked around a large bite, the food in his mouth muffling some of the words. It really was good – worth looking like a pig in front of the most beautiful man alive.

“Hap and I go way back. His father worked security at Stark Industries – he was on my dad’s personal protection team for most of my life. When Happy’s mom died and the need for babysitting became a thing, Happy started to spend the evenings with me after school. In a lot of ways, he’s the only family I’ve ever had. When he first opened up this place, I was young and just looking for some investment that would piss my dad off. I knew Happy had talent, but neither of us thought this place would blow up the way it did.” Tony looked up then, a vulnerability in his eyes. “We’ve been in business together ever since.”

Smiling encouragingly, Peter nodded in Tony’s direction – their closeness, Tony’s unwavering advertisement and protectiveness, even some of the food names he could see on the menu; it all made sense. After taking another bite of the cheesesteak, Peter chewed slowly before responding. “There’s always more to the story, right?” he questioned cheekily. “It sounds like your gamble worked out for you – I didn’t look at the menu, but I did Google Hogan’s; there’s ten locations within a 300-mile radius.”

A snort had Peter looking up, his eyebrows quirked. “I should’ve known,” Tony said through a laugh. “Your generation is all about instant gratification.”

Their eyes locked then, Tony’s words and their meaning sitting in the space between them. Peter forced himself not to blink – he wanted to memorize the rich hazel color that barely ringed a growing pupil. Hunger and want and something unrecognizable existed in Tony’s glance; when it was all over and Tony moved on, Peter desperately wanted to remember the genuine rawness he drew out of one of the world’s greatest minds.

“Or just impatience,” Peter countered. He drew his eyes away, needing to break the glance to stop himself from propelling himself across the table and tackle Tony to the ground. Though it looked as if Happy kept the place spick and span, Peter didn’t want to think about Tony’s expensive suit on any other floor aside from his own.

They attempted to pull the small talk back to something a little tamer, but the road of the rest of the evening had already been paved. It became harder to focus on anything other than the thick press of Tony’s thigh against his own under the table. As the minutes passed, Peter noticed Tony staring, and after a while, the older man just never stopped. Every time he looked up, Peter caught hazel eyes taking him in – undressing him button by button with the sheer want in his eyes. A red blush took up permanent residence on Peter’s cheeks and neck, the color following him out of the restaurant and out onto the street where Tony took his hand without hesitation.

Before his mom passed away, Peter remembered a softly mumbled conversation laying across both his parents early, early in the morning. His dad’s big fingers were wrapped so neatly around his mother’s, the embrace tight, despite the hour. Peter reached out to touch the unbreakable seam, his eyes wide with wonder. “They fit,” Peter whispered softly, his finger running reverently over their joint fingers.

His mother pulled him close then, her lips finding that special place on his cheek. “One day, Petey, you’ll find that perfect person whose hands will fit yours just the way your father’s fit mine.”

A warmth settled in Peter’s chest as he slid his hand into Tony’s, their fingers interlacing perfectly with ease. The immaculate fit of Tony’s hand pressing against his own made him snuggle in further – whatever happened between them after this, Peter would forever know how easily he and Tony Stark fit together.

Giving Tony’s fingers a squeeze at the thought, Peter looked up, breaking the silence – “Do you want to see my apartment? I’m sure it’s not nearly as fancy as the hotel you’re staying at, but I’ve got Netflix and a really comfortable couch.”

Tony took a few long strides to answer, his face a little pensive. “I’d love to see your apartment, Pete,” Tony replied easily. They came to a stop at the crosswalk – Tony used his momentum to pull Peter close to his chest while they waited out the light. “I don’t care about fancy. You’ll be there.”

While Peter had lots of things to reply, his words were cut off by slightly chapped lips eagerly pressing against his own. It took Peter a second to recognize what in the glorious hell was happening – when the reality of the situation finally registered, Peter surged forward, tilting his head to not only return the kiss, but deepen it.

Both of Peter’s hands found their way around Tony’s neck to keep him close – he felt like he might pass out from the sheer goodness of Tony surrounding him without the grounding touch. He was far from a virgin, but none of his previous encounters knocked him off his feet in such a way that made Peter feel like a fumbling newbie.

Sipping from each other’s mouths, Peter was surprised by a strange and unrecognizable voice coming from behind them – “the light’s changed, fellas.”

It took an obscene amount of effort to pull away – though the stranger’s words made his face burn with embarrassment, Peter was reluctant to step out of Tony’s embrace and the tantalizing press of warm lips against his own. Regardless of his trepidation, Peter reluctantly moved back.

He made sure to slip his hand into Tony’s before they set off again.

“I’m just another couple of blocks away,” Peter reassured, a hungry smirk on his face. Tony returned the look, their stride all of the sudden lengthening. Their walk turned from a leisurely stroll to a brisk half-run. If it weren’t for the want raging through Peter’s veins, he might’ve found the change hilarious. In all of their time together, Tony never expressed impatience – he always seemed calm, cool, and collected. Yet, in the face of heat and need and the promise of bare skin, Tony let that mask drop.

Happy to know a new something about Tony, Peter reveled in the pent-up silence that carried them back to his apartment. Snagging a ground floor unit close to the entrance, they luckily didn’t have to wait for an elevator or awkwardly pretend that they weren’t about to push the other against the wall and start ravaging whatever pieces of skin they could find. Instead, Peter impatiently pulled Tony behind him as they walked between building 1 and 2 with eager steps.

After some fumbling and a set of dropped keys, Peter finally got his door open and Tony through it. Without missing a beat, Tony pushed him back against the newly closed front door, their lips harshly joining. Groaning at the contact and suddenness of it all, Peter pulled Tony in – any space left between them was unacceptable now that they were in a private space where wandering eyes and clicking cameras couldn’t see. Their obvious passion was too much for the public eye; Peter so desperately wanted to keep Tony to himself – devouring him in a safe space was only the first step.

As Tony traced his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, Peter fumbled his hands down the older man’s chest until he could pull the crisp button-down from well-tailored pants. The second he was able, Peter shoved his hands under the soft fabric, his palms greedily pressing into Tony’s hairy chest. A groan left his mouth – the chest hair under his fingers was soft and teasing. Peter was caught between the urge to tug at the strands and lay his head gently against them just to feel the texture against his skin.

Tony made the decision for him – large hands were suddenly on Peter’s waist, his feet coming up off the ground with little effort. Unable to keep his hands where they were, Peter broke the kiss with a groan and shifted until he could wrap his legs around Tony’s hips. Peter panted for breath while his lips were still free as Tony navigated through the room blindly. Another soft moan left Peter’s lips when his back hit the pliable leather of his couch.

Where just moments before they were standing chest to chest, Peter now had the full weight of Tony against him. The older man fit seamlessly between his splayed thighs, their hips lining up in a way that made Peter’s cock pulse against the confines of his tight jeans. With a bit of shifting, their groins were matched – Tony’s thick cock felt sinful against Peter’s. If his impending orgasm was already upon him, Peter wondered what it’d be like when their clothes hit the floor and he really got to taste what Tony had to offer.

Like he was reading his mind, Tony made quick work of the buttons on Peter’s shirt. Calloused hands dragged up and down Peter’s bare chest as he pushed the navy fabric to the side – his skin was practically hairless, the only exception being a small trail of it leading down to the v of his jeans. Tony let his fingers play through that small amount of hair, his fingers teasing as they got closer to the one spot that Peter wanted him to be the most.

Deciding to take his mind off of the heat in his belly and the closeness of his orgasm, Peter returned the favor. His hands were shaky as he passed button after button through their holes. With a gasp, Peter spread the sides of Tony’s shirt to get the maximum impact of the older man’s torso. He liked what he felt before, but the view was something else – Tony’s chest was chiseled and cut, his pecs and abs straining with effort. Peter noticed throbbing veins and a few scars in his perusal; the evidence of Tony’s life and the way he lived it made Peter pull the man a little closer. Tony Stark drove him absolutely mad – every new thing he learned contributed to the insanity even more.

Before he could get lost in the thought, Tony’s lips were skating along his cheek, only to stop and caress the outer shell of Peter’s ear. “You feel amazing, Pete,” Tony babbled, his tongue peeking out to join in on the fun. “I want to taste you, feel your cock pulse against my tongue. You’re so fucking hard and I can’t fucking wait. Is that okay?”

Peter pulled back then, a soft grin pulling at his lips. In all of his sexual encounters, Peter couldn’t recall someone caring about him so thoroughly, let alone stopping to ask how he felt. Both hands came up to grip Tony’s cheeks until the older man was looking right at him. Through the haze of arousal, Peter recognized that warm spark in Tony’s eye – it was the look in that first picture that kept Peter coming back for more.

“It’s perfect, Tony. I’ll take anything you want to give me,” Peter said breathlessly. He leaned up for a kiss to drive the words home.

Tony looked genuinely happy when Peter pulled away – his cheeks were flushed with obvious arousal, his lips quirked in a saucy smile. Without saying anything, Tony nodded his head and travelled slowly down the length of Peter’s body. Nimble fingers made quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans before Peter could think or even draw his next breath.

Sturdy hands didn’t hesitate to pull at the waistband of Peter’s boxers – his flushed cock was already leaking as it came to rest casually against the firm abs of Peter’s chest. Tony’s calloused fingers immediately wrapped around the length, giving a tight squeeze to the base. The sheer feeling of his crush’s hands on him was almost enough for Peter to jump straight over the edge. Catching Tony’s eyes and biting down on his bottom lip was his only saving grace – the knowing look in beautiful hazel eyes pulled a chuckle from Peter’s chest, the noise distraction enough.

“Okay?” Tony asked again, the words were spoken with his mouth hovering just inches from the pulsing flesh of Peter’s cock. He could feel Tony’s breath against his sensitive skin, everything about the situation making it hard to articulate or think or exist as anything other than a melted puddle of goo against broken-in leather.

Peter took a couple of deep breaths before nodding vigorously. He felt a red flush travel even further down his neck and torso, arousal and embarrassment mixing together to create the ultimate aphrodisiac. He finally found his voice, muttering a choked off “yes” before the motor function of speaking left him once more.

After a heartbeat and then another where neither man moved, Tony gripped the sharp bones of Peter’s hips, pushing his lower body down against the cushions. They shared another look as Tony lowered his head, his pink tongue poking out to lick lightly against the leaky head of Peter’s cock. Hazel eyes stayed on him – Tony continued to lap along his sensitive skin, all while killing Peter slowly with the heat and want reflecting back. By the time Tony had all of Peter in his mouth, Peter was seconds away from being undone.

It’d been so long, and he’d wanted Tony since he understood what attraction was. Being pinned down by the person he desired longer than some of his friendships did nothing but magnify everything that was happening. His skin felt like it was on fire under Tony’s touch – the suction around his cock felt like it was coming from all angles, everywhere, all at once. Unable to stop himself, Peter moaned, panted, and shamelessly shouted Tony’s name as the blissful seconds passed.

The telling zip of a zipper being pushed down, and Tony’s hasty shift told Peter that Tony was similarly affected. He picked up his head to watch Tony suck his cock down while his right hand moved at the same pace – while he took Peter’s cock into his throat, Tony was stroking his own erection with sure strokes. As if the heat around him wasn’t enough, the beautiful visual of Tony taking his own pleasure pushed him those last couple of steps over the edge.

Bubbling heat in his belly boiled over. Peter frantically reached down to grip Tony’s shoulder, his mouth wordlessly shaping around warning words. “I’m – I’m… fuck, Tony. I’m going to cum,” Peter finally managed to gasp out. There was just enough time for Tony to pull away, to let Peter’s pleasure splatter on the blood warm skin of Peter’s stomach. Yet, Tony held fast, instead – he redoubled his efforts, his lips tightening and throat relaxing in invitation.

Unable to stop himself, Peter let go – his hips thrust up into Tony’s enticing heat, the man’s name dripping from his lips as pulse after pulse of cum left his body. Tony moaned around him, swallowing easily without pulling his mouth away or stopping his ministrations. The suction continued until Peter was reaching down halfheartedly to push at Tony’s soft curls.

While he caught his breath, Tony crawled up Peter’s body, a self-satisfied smirk on his red cheeks. Peter grinned at him, happiness and satiation rolling off of him in waves. Without thought, Peter pulled Tony tightly to him, their lips finding each other like opposite poles of magnets drawn together by the sheer force of nature. Tony shared Peter’s taste with him, his talented tongue thrusting into Peter’s mouth with a shared groan between them. It was all so hot; Peter felt his spent cock already starting to come back to life.

With that thought in mind, Peter started to reach down to help Tony finish achieving his own pleasure; yet his hand was batted away with affectionate finesse. Peter shifted until he could meet the honey hazels he was already addicted to, a question in his eye.

“There’s no need,” Tony mumbled, his face tucking into the skin of Peter’s neck. “You’re so sexy, I couldn’t help but touch myself. The way you look in the throes of pleasure – it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“Holy shit.”

Tony chuckled at the awe in Peter’s voice. “My sentiment exactly.”

For a while, they stayed stretched out on Peter’ couch, exchanging kisses and greedy touches on all the bare skin either could reach. Without so much adrenaline coursing through his system, Peter felt himself melting even further into the comfy cushions below him. After a jaw breaking yawn, Peter reached up to cup Tony’s cheek, pulling the man’s attention towards him.

“Want to stay over?” Peter asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Though they were spent and wrapped up in each other, Peter wasn’t sure where Tony stood. There was a big difference between the type of intimacy physical touch and sleeping next to another human being required. The last few days, Peter fell asleep with Tony’s messages open on the bed next to him – actually sleeping side by side, in person, that was a whole new step for them.

Tilting his head to the side, Tony shot Peter a tender smile before nodding and leaning down to press their lips together.

“Yeah, Pete – I want to stay.”

#starker #starkerfestivalsevents #starker festivals summer bingo #bobbie writes #let me get close to #peter parker/tony stark #starker fic #sfsummerbingo21

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nobodylivesson · 3 years

Text

Bad Boy(Pt.2)

Fandom : Marvel

Pairing : Peter Parker x Top! Male Reader

Requested? No

-Previous/Next-

»»————>❃<————««

The incident after that spread through the whole school like a wildfire and everyone were either dumbfounded or fascinated by this but one thing they all decided was that won’t fuck with [Y/N] or his friends.

Flash also started to avoid [Y/N] like a plague.

It was so interesting and shocking to see the all arrogant Flash Thompson to meekly reply back to [Y/N].And everyone else can definitely see how much [Y/N] enjoyed seeing this while face which didn’t seem to hide his smirk.

“You purposely greet him in the corridor every morning right?” MJ asked [Y/N] during lunch causing the male to smirk

“Well it’s so fun watching him squirm under the pressure.My father did got a call from someone trying to apologize but I told him to ignore it~ I’m sure this might have caused Flash to have a very very good talk with his parents~” [Y/N] said with a chuckle

“You are a total sadist” MJ said with an unbelievable look in her eyes but [Y/N] just chuckles before saying “It’s not being called sadist but bringing arrogant filled assholes who think they are the kings to their right place”

“That a very specific line,you have done this kind of stuff before?” Peter says with a chuckle and [Y/N] smiles a little.He really likes seeing Peter smile it just has an effect on him every since he saw it the first time

“Well it seems I’m a really good magnet for assholes but I don’t mind being a sadist just for you if you want Pete” [Y/N] says before bringing out his accent to the last part and ah,how much he enjoys seeing Peter going all red over this face,neck and ears

“WHA-WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!Don’t joke about stuff like that!!Le-let’s go Ned!!” Peter says as his face burns like fire and Ned also quickly gets up before hurriedly saying “By-bye MJ!!You to [Y/N]!!”

Both of the said people waved back while [Y/N] had a teasing grin which Peter surely saw as he seemingly picked up his pace and quickly went out the room while Ned ran after him telling him to slow down

[Y/N] chuckles as he watches this when he sees MJ looking at him with narrowed eyes so says with a confused look “What?”

“Stop teasing Peter we know what you tow are but you don’t need to tease him like that ” MJ says with a sigh to which [Y/N] with a closed eyes smile while crossing his legs and keeping his left hand on his mouth “I don’t know what you mean by knowing “what we two are” but you don’t how much I just love seeing his ears turn all red and he has this cute habit of shuttering and playing with his hands when he is very embarrassed”

[Y/N] opened his eyes and his eyes lingered towards the place where Peter once sat and he just couldn’t help but chuckle more

“Sigh,you don’t need to hide it from us and you don’t understand,Peter is to innocent unlike you” MJ said

“What the fuck are you talking about MJ?Say it clearly cause I really don’t know what you meant by ‘tow of us’” [Y/N] says with a frown as he started to get annoyed now

MJ opens her mouth but after observing [Y/N]’s face shut it with widen eyes

“No actually forget about whatever I said” MJ says while closing his book and getting ready to go from there as she tried not to make eye contact with him

[Y/N] keeps his eyes on her before saying with a shrug “Okay then whatever the fuck that was,I’m outta here.Not in the mood to attend anymore classes today” his annoyance lacing in his voice and he then just took his stuff before going away from there without saying goodbye for MJ

MJ looks at his walking figure of [Y/N] and thinks “Oh god,don’t tell me-No way.I just hope this doesn’t bring any trouble to us” before sighing

»»————>❃<————««

[Y/N] was annoyed for sure

“What the hell is wrong with MJ?? First she asking me about something between me & Pete and then she refuses to say what it is.I know it’s kinda low to tease Peter but he isn’t even gay so what’s the harm and can’t she tell me her reason of being annoyed by it.I just find finding messing with Peter very interesting......” [Y/N] angrily mumbled before he trailed of as he watched the lights of the different buildings in New York turn on

After getting annoyed,[Y/N] decided to ditch school and after searching the city for a while(also with help of the information Peter gave him),he found out a building whose rooftop he could go into without any problems.The building also gave a very decent view of the city

So what better way to blow of some stream than than sorting your thoughts out in front of this beautiful view

So [Y/N] sits at the roof while looking at New York while he started to slowly sort his thoughts one by one

Along with Peter and MJ,[Y/N] mind has been filled with father along with..........his mother and the secret between them

“No need to wreck my brain with school problems,the old man is again eating my head about giving some thoughts to becoming his successor.But I have already told him enough times that I’m not interested in it and that he can find someone more suitable,damn it!Then those bastards had put me in their club performance again without telling me.Maybe I should really have a talk with them.And then eomma’s date is also coming..........Sigh,guess I have to l look after appa and give Mr.Sung a break” [Y/N] thinks with a frown

Mr.Sung was [Y/N] dad’s personal secretary but in the boy’s eyes he looked more like a personal babysitter

[Y/N] was so invested in his thoughts that he didn’t heard the sound of someone slinging to his spot and was really startled when a voice suddenly said “Wasn’t expecting someone here”

[Y/N] looked behind to see a very curious sight of a guy in a red and blue latex suit which also had a black spider logo in his chest.He was also wearing a red mask with white eyes

“Who is this guy?Wait is he-” [Y/N] who was confused at first suddenly realized before saying “Are you The Spider-man?” with a curious voice

“The one and only neighborhood hero at you service.You must be new here,I haven’t saw you before around the city” Spider-man says while taking a seat beside [Y/N] after making sure he was okay with it

[Y/N] chuckles before looking at the hero while leaning back as a smirk adored his face and said “I don’t think you need to know everyone who goes out and in of the town.It seems to much of a work to be added after the amount of work you do”

Spider-man chuckles like he was embarrassed as he says “But as a hero I should remember people of the city I’m trying to protect.And you seemed very familiar with the city to be able find this place.So I thought how I never saw you around as someone like you......really leave a impression”

[Y/N] blinks a little before ends up laughing and puts his index finger under the mask face of the hero making him look towards [Y/N] as he brings his face close to the hero’s

“I didn’t knew that Spider-man thought I was so impressive.I’m happy that the neighborhood hero is saying these kind of things so openly.I like people like those” [Y/N] says while licking his lips making the hero immediately pull back

[Y/N] for some reason felt that the hero would be blushing like crazy and he wanted to just rip of that mask but decided to not do something so stupid

“Y-you shouldn’t tease people like that!A-and I asked to forget but who told you about me?” Spider-man says as he tries to move the conversation to something else

[Y/N] laughs but complies “Well as you had said earlier,I’m not from here and had just moved here along with my dad.And so someone who I’m close with showed me around the city.So then he told me about this new hero who had emerged.It was also because of him that I was able to catch sight of this place.I’m very grateful of him when he showed me around the city and also being a great friend”

“He seems like a good friend” the spider hero quietly says and leans closer to the Asian boy as if expecting some kind of answer which [Y/N] noticed but decided to slid it off

“Good friend......huh?” [Y/N] mumbles as he looks towards the city before with a smile says “I guess so or maybe a little bit more”

Spider-man immediately goes back and in a shuttering voice says “I-I s-see.Al-also shouldn’t you be telling all this stuff so easily?We just meet today”

“My friend told great stuff about you and I believe him,so there’s no need for me to be wary of you” [Y/N] casually says as he goes through his contacts to message Mr.Sung to pick him up later

“I-I see” the hero replies and a silence falls between these two

“I wanted to ask this earlier but don’t you have other important things to do than talk with a teenager?” [Y/N] finally asks with a questioning look making the hero look at him

“Well I had a break and was just looking over the city when I saw you.You looked very concerned and so just wanted to make sure you were alright” Spider-man says making [Y/N] chuckle

“Well some shit has been going on so I was just thinking on how to sort them out” [Y/N] says to which the hero quietly says “Well if you want you can talk with me about it”

“No it’s fine.It’s not that important to involve someone like you to this” [Y/N] says while closing his eyes making the hero quietly look at the boy

“Well then how about your friend?If you trust your friend,I’m sure he would be happy to talk and listen to you.That’s what friends are for” the hero says making [Y/N] look at him with an unreadable look

But before the hero could say anything [Y/N] started to laugh loudly making Spider-man surprised

“Thanks so much.I guess I need something like that.I will see if I want to tell him about it.I guess you are a hero in all sense” [Y/N] says with a grin to which Spider-man replies “Glad could help you”

But Spider-man couldn’t stay anymore as he hear loud noise from a distance making both [Y/N] and the hero look towards that direction

“Looks like duty calls” Spider-man says to which [Y/N] says “I guess I should also get going”

“Well if you ever need a shoulder to cry,a ear to listen and a mouth to talk to.I’m always there” Spider-man says making [Y/N] laugh which confused the hero

“You remind me of that friend for some reason.The way you act,your voice and also you........never mind I might be wrong as well” [Y/N] says with a shrug when he sees the hero becoming a little stiff before relaxing

“Hahaha,don’t joke like that.Well see ya” Spider-man says before saluting towards [Y/N]

The hero then jump from the roof with a flip and then slings toward the direction those noises came from as [Y/N] looked at the retreating figure of the hero

“Well,that was unbelievable.Just meet Spider-man and even though it was odd,he really reminded me of Peter.Well,eh how would be possible?Am I going out of shape these days for slacking at my practice?Guess have to start following my routine again.And talk with my friends,huh?” [Y/N] thinks before looking at the sky which was dark now

»»————>❃<————««

Peter leaned against the wall of the building as he could hear loud booming noise from inside.He just couldn’t believe he agreed to come to this kind of place all for [Y/N]

“Hey Pete!So I have a performance at this club with a bunch of people I know.Don’t worry I would make sure ya don’t drink anything unnecessary and you are safe.The only problem is that Ned and MJ won’t be able to come due to some other stuff,so you up for it?” was all [Y/N] had to say to Peter before the boy with a blush on hi face agreed

Now here he was waiting for that handsome-he meant good looking friend of his!!

Peter just couldn’t help but have a blush creep onto his face for the unknown time just from thinking about [Y/N]

He was really to deep into this thing and he just remembers the conversation he had with Ned and MJ during [Y/N]’s absence

“Dude I think you are being very obvious there” Ned says making Peter ssh him

“Quiet it down Ned!I’m sure if [Y/N] were to see my face he would make more fun of it!An-and I don’t know why I’m like this around him!!” Peter whisper shouts as they make their way towards their next class

But then he sees Ned making an are-you-serious face before saying “I couldn’t believe mate!!You don’t know why?!Me and MJ thought you knew the reason” making Peter stop in his tracks

“Y-you and MJ know my reason of being like this?!!” Peter says with widen eyes before putting his hands on Ned’s shoulder and started shake him

“Come on Ned tell me the reason why” Peter says while still shaking Ned who says “A-ah st-stop sha-shaking m-me first!” before finally breaking free from his grip

“Mate,that was really unnecessary but I don’t know if I should tell this...” Ned didn’t continue when he sees MJ coming towards them making him jump before saying “Great!!MJ is here and [Y/N] is not with her!!Let’s hear this from her yourself!MJ comes here!!”

MJ notices how frantically Ned was calling her so she goes towards them before saying “What are you two idiots-” but couldn’t complete when Ned says “Peter doesn’t realizes what he feels towards [Y/N]”

A long pause came between them but before MJ sighs and says “To the library right now” as she starts walking while Ned drags Peter towards it,their class long forgotten

“I can’t believe both of you’re so dense” MJ immediately starts after they had gotten a area good for private talk

“Why are you scolding me??I just don’t know okay!” Peter hissed to which MJ sighs

“Have you told [Y/N] about you being bisexual?” MJ asks first making Peter widen his eyes before mumbling “No,I didn’t get the right moment to....”

But both Ned and MJ heard it loud and clear so making both just sigh more

“Oh Pete,we both thought you two already became a thing and that’s why so much flirting.We didn’t knew you two were still in the pinning stage” Ned says making Peter choke at air

“WHAT?!!” Peter shouts while standing up only to be sushed by the librarian making him sit down with an embarrassed face

“I meant,what the hell are you thinking about?!Just cause I’m Bisexual doesn’t mean I would have a crush on him!I mean yeah I find him attractive and yeah he is kinda cool when he fights of bullies like a hero.But that’s not gay just friendship.I don’t think his accented voice making me hot is strange cause like who doesn’t get tat way after hearing his voice?Btw I once saw how his veins in the hands were bulging up during gym and that was sexy.But I think his laugh is really cute and contrasting compared to his other stuff-” Peter who started to ramble about [Y/N] immediately stopped and looked at his friends to see MJ with a ‘I told ya’ look while Ned just blushed with wide eyes as if he was talking about him

“That’s actually very gay kid” the librarian who came near them to stack a self was listening to all this,says nonchalantly before walking back towards his desk

Peter’s face just burns the deepest red color possible before he buries his face in his hands as a muffled “I know that was very much gay and shows how much I have a crush on him so I hope the earth swallows me up”

But his friends heard it and MJ says “Before that don’t forget to confess your passionate love to him” making Peter groan more

“But mate isn’t it better than?You seem to have more chance with [Y/N] compared to Liz since [Y/N] flirts with you every time he can” Ned says trying to be helpful

“Ned he just does it just cause of his nature and-and someone like him won’t like a nerd like me!!” Peter says while waving his hands around in the air out of frustration

MJ scoffs at this before saying “He may be a playboy but not towards you Peter.Why do you think we thought you two were a couple.He treats you different than others,it’s quiet evident.Just that [Y/N] himself hasn’t realized it.So don’t be a coward and go with this cause we two don’t want to see this stupid unrealized pining between you two anymore”

Peter blushes and peaks between his fingers before asking “Where is [Y/N]?Wasn’t he with you?”

MJ seemed surprised and thinks a little before saying “It seemed something came up which annoyed [Y/N] so he said he would ditch the rest of the classes” deciding it was good to hide her conversation with [Y/N]

“Oh...I see” Peter getting a little worried and thought he would check on [Y/N] later

“Well leaving that aside,don’t be a fool and just go for it Peter” MJ says with an encouraging smile to which Ned nodded before smiling as well

Peter smiled as his thoughts of yesterday’s conversation but he seemed to have not noticed the boy coming towards him

“Hey Pete” a deep Asian ascent suddenly says in front of him making Peter jump back a little out of shock only to see it was [Y/N] who was chuckling at is reaction

And damn,[Y/N] just looked to hot.He was wearing a low v-cut half sleeve red shirt which gave a sneak peek of his toned chest,finger less black gloves,a black trouser and black combat boots.His neck had three necklaces with them being a cross,a razor and a wire looking one,as he could spot ‘Hell’ tattooed between his collar bones.At last he wore black round retro glasses as a cigarette was between his lips

He looked to hot to be legal to Peter and he could prove it as girls along with boys who were walking pass them definitely looked back once at [Y/N] with blush or if they were bold with lust filled eyes

Not minding them at all,[Y/N] flicked his cigarette towards the side before saying “That jump was really cute and did you wait long?” with a smile

Peter feels his cheeks already getting a little hot before saying “I-I was surprised okay?!And no I didn’t wait long but where are you coming from,dressed like that?” stressing a little bit to much at ‘that’

[Y/N] smirks before asking “Like what you see?” making Peter blush more and looks towards the side causing [Y/N] to laugh

“Ehh went out with some friends of mine on my bike before quickly came here cause didn’t wanted to make you wait long.So ready to go inside?” [Y/N] says while pointing at his cool looking bike(Peter thought was just perfect for [Y/N]) before a playful smile

“I have never been this kind of place [Y/N] so I’m kinda nervous and if Aunt May were to find out about this,I would be dead” Peter mumbles nervously to which [Y/N] chuckles

“Don’t worry Pete.You are going inside under my name,so nobody’s gonna do anything and I would make sure of it along with Aunt May not finding out about it.So just trust me” [Y/N] says with serious eyes now his ascent coming out in the ‘So just trust me’ making Peter suck in some air as his blush seemed to intensify

“Okay,I trust you” Peter finally says and the answer seems to satisfy [Y/N] who smiles before saying “Great,let’s go~”

»»————>❃<————««

True to [Y/N]’s words,nobody came near Peter,he wasn't asked if he wanted alcohol or tried to talk with him in general and Peter was give a place where the stage was totally clear

Peter nervously watched as [Y/N] performance was gonna start any minute and he didn’t knew what to expect

“I heard Foxy was going to perform today” Peter hears and see two girls whispering to which the other girl replied “Yes~Oh how I wished he would sent the night with me but too bad he is gay.I also heard today he came here with another boy!”

“They couldn’t be talking about-” Peter couldn’t finish his thoughts when the lights of the room dimmed before all focused on a the stage as a man came to the stage

“I know you all already heard it but without any further wait let’s welcome today’s special appearance of Foxy with his collab performance with our favorite group Leviathan!!And today they are gonna perform their original ‘Take me to cruch’” the man said and the whole crowd cheered loudly

The curtains of the stage raised and Peter widened his eyes to see [Y/N] sitting behind a drum set which a fox logo drawn in it as some other people with instruments stand on both his sides

My lover's got humor He's the giggle at a funeral Knows everybody's disapproval

“Ehh,Foxy was [Y/N]’s stage name?B-but leaving that aside [Y/N] can sing so nicely along with being able to play the drums?!How much more perfect can he be??” Peter thought as he heard [Y/N]’s accented english through this speaker with a blush on his face.He tuned out all the other’s voices so he can give all his attention towards [Y/N]

I should've worshiped him sooner If the heavens ever did speak He's the last true mouthpiece Every Sunday's getting more bleak A fresh poison each week "We were born sick" You heard them say it My church offers no absolutes He tells me "Worship in the bedroom" The only Heaven I'll be sent to Is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well

[Y/N] finally started to play the drum and people just swayed like it was a concert with this phone flashlight on

Aaa, Amen, Amen, Amen

[Y/N] looked towards the crowd and immediately his eyes made contact with Peter who just felt his body on fire under his gaze

Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life

[Y/N] kept his gaze on Peter and Peter felt as though the song was being dedicated to him.He thought that was a very stupid imagination,making Peter break his contact with [Y/N] as he looked towards the ground

Yet when he again looked up and saw [Y/N] still looking towards him,he felt a tiny bit of himself believing that maybe it could be dedicated to him.”I mean it isn’t a crime to imagine stuff like that” Peter thought as he again made contact with [Y/N]’s deep black eyes

If I'm a pagan of the good times My lover's the sunlight To keep the god on my side He demands a sacrifice Drain the whole sea Get something shiny Something meaty for the main course That's a fine looking high horse What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful That looks tasty That looks plenty This is hungry work

Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife Offer me my deathless death Good God, let me give you my life Take me to church I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife Offer me my deathless death Good God, let me give you my life

No masters or kings when the ritual begins There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene Only then I am human Only then I am clean

Oh, oh Amen, Amen, Amen

The moment [Y/N] hit the line,people went crazy and started to sing along for what seemed as the last part of the song

The entire roared up in people’s shouting and screams which Peter thought was the right thing to do for the performance was crazy and awesome

He was happy he could record that whole thing

But then as he saw how [Y/N] bumped fist with the other people on stage with a smirk,he remembered what MJ told his causing a blush to form at this face

“O-okay Peter!!Y-you are going t-to do this!!You are g-going to co-confess to [Y/N]!” Peter thought inside him before he decided to look for [Y/N]

But sadly [Y/N] seemed to have gone down the stage so picking up his courage,Peter went inside the crowd to look for him

Peter looked aimlessly among the crowd and luckily nobody bothered to stop him

It was tough to go around these sea of kind of drunk bodies without gaining much attention but it was fine with some work all thanks to Peter’s senses

Peter made to near the stage and felt a smile came to his face when he started to see [Y/N] standing near the stage

But as Peter was about to reach [Y/N] felt his breathing stop at the sight in front of him

[Y/N] was leaning against the wall as another shorter boy was leaning on his chest while [Y/N]’s hands were wrapped around the shorter boy’s waist

Peter felt his heart never run as fast as he was feeling now and he definitely stopped breathing when he saw [Y/N] kissing the shorter boy

Peter just stood there as he saw his crush smooch some unknown guy in the club and he freaking didn’t knew what to do

He just wanted to get out of the club but to his misery [Y/N] moves his eyes and low & behold,he made eye contact with Peter

“Peter?” [Y/N] says immediately stopping his kissing session and that prompt was all it took for Peter to start running from that place

“Peter!!” [Y/N]’s voice perfectly reached his ears in the loud club and he hates the fact that he could perfectly hear his voice among others

He didn’t stopped to apologize for bumping with people and made a beeline for the exit before rushing out of the club

Tears started to slowly come out of his eyes and he just bit his lower lips to make sure a sob doesn’t comes out of his mouth as he made his way towards hi apartment

“Of course,‘He has a crush on you’ that’s so stupid and dumb..” Peter thought bitterly as his walked towards his apartment

»»————>❃<————««

Eomma - mother and Appa - Father for those who didn’t knew

Hello everyone!! Finally done with the next chapter,wohoo!! It took time and I think this is longer than the last one?I totally didn’t used this chapter to put ‘Take me to church’,totally not!Nah uh!Lol,well jokes aside if you guys haven’t heard Hozier just check him out cause he is an awesome artist.Anyway the next chapter would definitely take time so please stick with me till then and hope you enjoyed this one

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x male reader #x male reader #Avengers #avenger x male reader #avenger imagine

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kimnjss · 4 years

Text

best friend | loy!smau

⤑ series: less of you

⤑ pairing: fratboy!jimin + dancer!reader

⤑ genre: angst!!

⤑ rating: PG13.

⤑ word count: 3.9K

⤑ warnings: kinda sad idk.

⤑ chapter song: the knowing // the weeknd

⤑ A/N: another written chapter because this just would not!! work as a text part. read it and let me know what you think bc all im gonna say is... yall.....

DECEMBER 23RD, 2019 | 17:34

[17:34] she's my girlfriend: just to push it a few hours... or maybe rain check for tomorrow? promise to make it up to you.

“'We'll go to the place you like this time, hm?'” Jimin reads the thread of messages flooding his phone sent from you out loud. Back slouched against the couch, mind working a mile a minute to figure out what kind of emergency could Miju be having right now. And why were you always so willing to drop everything to be there for her.

Being bitter was the last thing that he wanted. Rocky roads with your best friend are something that takes a long while to sort out for girls, he could see that. Just hoped that you'd soon realize that something's gotta give. That he wouldn't always be so keen on letting Miju shift the plans that he made for the two of you.

All of this could definitely be fueled by the fact he's now pushing telling you what he should have a long while ago until the next time you were both free to spend time together. It won't be that bad, right?

[17:36] to – she's my girlfriend: yeah, baby. it's fine. if things clear up before late, let me know nd ill come pick you up.

The best he could do at this point, he'd just wait for you to have a free moment. He was done pushing this off, knew that speaking to you should've been at the top of his list since he found out about it. Would've been able to do it today if it wasn't for Miju. Would there ever be a time where he wasn't falling second to her?

“What's with the scowl on you face?” Yoongi's voice is breaking through Jimin's thoughts as he crosses the living room, entering the kitchen. He rummages through the cabinets before pulling down a box of cereal, head cocked to be able to see Jimin who's shifting his position on the couch.

“Yn canceled on me.” Saying it out loud made him feel shittier than he had been originally. What kind of boyfriend couldn't buck up when their girl had important matters to tend to? Got sulky because she needed to handle an emergency. At least she had the decency to text him about it, right?

You could've just stood him up.

Yoongi doesn't stop the snorted laughter that falls from his lips, shaking a large amount of cereal into an even larger bowl. He moves toward the fridge to fish out the half-finished carton of milk he hid behind Joonie's growing vegetable collection.

“What she finally get tired of you?” A lighthearted joke directed to his best friend that has Jimin's eyes rolling instantly. He rises to enter the kitchen where his friend had just sat at the island.

See? Why couldn't girls make up like this? Had, had his own dispute with Yoongi weeks ago and they were back on speaking terms – the normal way. No need for some serious sit down that wasted both of their time. Just the understanding of who was in the wrong and the changes that needed to be made to fix it.

Girls were too emotional, always wanted to talk and talk about everything when really?? telling someone when they're being an asshole is the most effective form of friendship counseling in Jimin's opinion.

“Yeah, right. She's crazy about me.” Jimin gloats, reaching for the cereal box Yoongi had left out and pulling a handful out. “That girl had some type of emergency so she wanted to reschedule... help her sort it out,” He shrugs his shoulders, opening his palm to pick out the marshmallow pieces instead.

“Her friend? You mean Miju?” Nodding, Jimin drops the cardboard tasting pieces back into the box, dusting his hands off in front of him. “Wait. Miju told Yn that she had an emergency which made Yn cancel on you?”

With a short laugh and a roll of his eyes, Jimin is nodding again. “Yes, that's what I just said. You feeling alright, buddy?” He teases, not noticing the perplexed look on his best friend's face.

It takes a few short seconds for Yoongi to put the pieces together, eyes widening at his realization. There's no way she'd do anything like that, right? He had been talking to her for weeks and it seemed like she had given up on her whole 'catch them in the act' plan. But this wasn't catching them in the act, this was just... wrong?

And there was Jimin, no the wiser, picking marshmallow pieces out of the cereal box without a care in the world. He had to tell him. That's what any self-respecting best friend would do. Especially with the growing regret in the pit of his belly, the knowledge of the mistake he made with letting the information slip.

The last thing he thought Miju would do was try and ruin this for Yn. Had it set in his mind that if she was able to get through this maturely with his help then she'd start looking at him the way that he had hoped she would. Maybe he was wrong.

That was a conversation for later, though. Right now, he had to prepare Jimin for the shit storm that was coming. The shit storm that he had unintentionally caused when he refused to mind his business.

“I don't think Miju actually has an emergency...”

DECEMBER 23RD, 2019 | 17:49

With a quick tap to your thumb over the blue button, your promise to try and make it tonight was being sent to your boyfriend. Ooh, your boyfriend. Just thinking sent a flutter through your chest.

Your boyfriend. Jimin. Park Jimin was your boyfriend. Yours. And you were his. And finally, you were starting to feel comfortable with him. Despite everything. It was like nothing could put a damper on the shine in your heart.

Not even the walk up to Miju's front door, knowing the conversation you were about to have. The conversation that you were going to have to force onto her no matter how much she tried to fight it. You were done feeling guilty, you were done lying to her. Finally ready to just be at peace with Jimin and if she wanted to support you great, but if not?? too bad.

Definitely, Jeongguk speaking, but you were sticking to it. If she didn't want to support you, then too bad!

The front door is swinging open before you even have the chance to knock. Miju stands opposite of you, wearing a pair of frilly shorts and a tank top despite the chilly weather outside. She greets you with a large smile, waving you into her warm home while stepping out of the way for you to enter.

DECEMBER 23RD, 2019 | 17:47

“You told her!?” Words can't describe how angry... how betrayed Jimin feels right now. Out of all the low things he could imagine someone he had referred to as a close friend doing to him? This had to be the lowest.

It wasn't a secret that he wasn't a huge fan of Miju, so why did Yoongi think that it would be a good idea to share his business with her? All because of his stupid crush? A crush that was pretty much one-sided at this point. The boy needed to open his eyes and realize that she was using him. For this exact purpose.

“Listen, I didn't think-” Yoongi starts, but Jimin is cutting his words. “Didn't think what? That she'd do something irrational with the information you've given her? Use what she knows as a way to hurt Yn, you didn't think she'd do that? And for what reason?”

Jimin was the most laid back in the house, what pissed him off pissed him off but he was never one to raise his voice. Always one to keep a level head in an argument, careful not to let words slip that might ruin things in the long run.

But right now and lately? It's like Yoongi has been testing his patience almost on purpose. For what? He had no clue, but he was starting to get tired of it. And it was starting to show.

Yoongi could see it. That he had royally fucked up. That Miju wasn't the person that he thought she was and it would take a lot more than just a few late night conversations to get her to see the error in her ways.

Her only focus was getting back at Yn for humiliating her and sleeping with Jimin. Nothing else mattered. No one else mattered. He was starting to see that now.

“I've been talking to her and she seemed-” Yoongi stops himself this time, the fact that he's been keeping quiet contact sort of a secret up until this point. Knew that it wouldn't sit well with his friends if they knew he was getting close to them who they all perceived to be the bad guy.

She never seemed all that bad to him, though.

“Jimin, be honest. Do you think she'd really go ahead and tell Yn? I mean, you guys were pretty fucked up for going behind her back – but do you really think she'd stoop that low?” Yoongi's words have Jimin's eyebrows lifting, hiding underneath his bangs.

What type of seed did that girl plant in his best friends head that had his mind all screwed up? Could he not see the blaring signs right in front of him? Was he just that against lying or was he really this pussy whipped?

Level headed, level headed. “Are you really trying to blame me right now?” He tries not to hiss his words but can't help the way they slip through his teeth. “Yes, Yn was wrong for lying about our relationship and I guess I was wrong for going along with it. But-,”

Hit with a sudden headache, Jimin is stopping his words. Hands washing over his face as he paces around the kitchen. A sigh leaves Yoongi's lips, his butt sliding off of his seat to make his way over to his friend.

“Look, Jimin. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything,” It really had been an accident. He didn't agree with how Jimin was going about things, but he would never sell him out like that. They were best friends, it just came out. And he's telling him all of that, Jimin only half-listening past his racing thoughts.

Desperately trying to figure out how he was going to fix the mess that was being made right now as they stood here talking. “I need to call her,” Rushing to find his phone, Jimin is quick to scroll through his messages to find your contact.

DECEMBER 23RD, 2019 | 17:52

“You came fast,” Miju notes with a smile, watching as you loosen the belt of your light coat, pulling it from your shoulders. It falls heavy on the couch with the added weight from your phone in the pocket. “Yeah, you said it was an emergency.” You nod, taking a moment to peak around for any 'emergency signs'.

The air is tense, tight. Suffocating in a way. There's this awkward silence looming over the two of you as she stands there staring with those big accusing eyes of hers. Clearing your throat, you reach your hand up to push your hair back.

“What's the emergency?” You wonder, generally curious what had her texting you 911 when everything seemed fine?

The usual pout that she wears settles on her lips, eyebrows furrowing slightly to add to the whole look. “It's in the kitchen.” She turns without another word, leading you out of the living room and into the kitchen.

And you follow behind her, eyes landing on the mess littering the kitchen counter. “I have nobody to make everything but the kitchen sink cookies with me.” Her arms spread out at all the different ingredients she has laid out, peaking over her shoulder to shoot a large smile in your direction.

“We use to make these all the time when we were younger, remember? And this morning I woke up craving them, which is so weird because I never crave sweets.” She's moved to the other side of the counter, picking up the half beaten bowl of batter she left out. “And who better to share these treats with than my best friend, right?” She smiles, but there's something else written in it.

You don't have a second to analyze it because she's waving you over with a wooden spoon, handing you the utensil once you're close enough.

“Was this really it? I had plans tonight...” Despite the disappointment in your tone, you're still taking the spoon from her hand, reaching for the bowl that she had kindly set out for you.

Miju's ears perk at the mention of your plans, wondering if you'd actually let it slip what you had intended to be doing tonight. “Plans? Who with?” She asked, feigning curiosity, although she knew all the answers to her questions.

“Just plans. And when you said emergency, I didn't imagine you meant baking cookies?” Not paying much attention to your words, Miju busies herself with reaching for the sugar, measuring some out into her bowl.

“It's not about the cookies, it's about our friendship, Yn.” Her attention quickly shifts to you, pinning you with that 'duh' expression that she likes to pull when it seemed like people just weren't getting it.

Your friendship. Right. So right now is as good as time as any. If she had been thinking about your friendship recently, then she'd maybe take the news well, right? Not blow it out of proportion once you're able to give her all the details, remind her how much you thought about your friendship the entire time. How hard it made things for you. Jimin. And that you were done lying and sneaking around, that you were ready to come clean to her. For the sake of your friendship.

“Actually, it's funny you say that, because-”

Her words overlap yours in panicked haste, bowl clambering onto the counter, the large spoon falling suit. “And I've been really sad, lately!” As expected, she's hitting you with a large pair of sad eyes, paired with a pouted lip. She doesn't wait for you to ask what's wrong, she doesn't need to. Know that you'd listen despite the fact you were literally in the middle of a sentence.

“I know we haven't really been talking to each other, about boys and stuff... but I found out earlier that.” She pauses, reaches to push the loose strands out of her face. “Jimin is moving... to New York! And things have been so weird?? with him lately. I'm just- I can't believe he's leaving.” There's a whine in her voice, paired with a stomped foot.

But your mind is so far from whatever fit she's throwing. Eyes blinking slowly as you try to register the words that had just come out of her mouth. Jimin was leaving? Like moving, leaving? Packing up and going to New York... and he didn't tell you?

No way he wouldn't tell you something huge like this. No way he'd leave you clueless for God knows how long until you're finding out in your best friend's messy kitchen in the midst of making cookies. No way he'd do that.

“Jimin's leaving? How do you know that?” She must've got the wrong information, overheard it wrong. Jimin wasn't leaving. He wouldn't just leave and not say a word to you about it.

She's raising her shoulder in a slight shrug, eyes focused on the thickening cookie batter. “Yoongi told me.” Yoongi? As in Jimin's best friend? So if he was saying it then it had to be true, right?

“Yoongi told you? Or you just heard it?”

Miju's sucking her teeth at your pestering, facing you to get a good look at your face. Taking in the distraught crinkle of your brow, the frown on your lips, the widening of your eyes. “He told me. Jimin is moving to New York. Next semester.” She repeats, slowly just in case you couldn't hear.

Her brow furrows in mock confusion, head tilting to the side slightly. “Why do you look like that? Does Jimin moving mean anything to you?” She lets out a laugh to add to her facade. “I should be the one frowning. I mean, it's my crush moving six thousand eight hundred and sixty-three miles away. I looked it up.”

Miju doesn't take her eyes away from your face, lifting her hand to suck the batter from her thumb. You can only imagine how you look right now, could literally feel your heart shattering in your chest at the thought of Jimin being so far away.

Being so far away and not telling you about it. There was no telling the way it showed on your face right now. “You're getting really worked up over a guy that you're not even interested in, Yn.” She pushes, dropping her spoon again to set her hands on her hips, looking at you expectantly.

Jimin was leaving and he didn't tell you. He kept it from you. He lied to you. The two of you didn't lie to each other. Maybe to other people together, but never to each other. And here was Miju, staring at you – enjoying this all too much. She knew, didn't she?

That's why she had invited you over. That's why she made up this whole stupid cookie emergency. What? Did she want to rub it in your face? 'You may have stolen my crush but he's been lying to you this entire time'. Well, she won.

“Are you mad? That's so weird. You're mad?” She continues and you can feel your blood boiling just from the sound of her voice.

Droning on in your ear as if she had no end. Asking if you were mad, wondering why you would be mad about someone that you had no involvement with whatsoever moving away. Why would you even have an opinion on the matter whatsoever? It's not like you're the one that's in the love with him – and that's where you snap.

“God quit it! Alright!? I'm with Jimin, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? He's my boyfriend. Happy?” Voice much louder than you had intended it to be and you see her flinch from the way you're yelling at her.

Yet, you can't stop yourself. Can't find it in you to use your inside voice. “Is that why you called this whole fake emergency? Not two fucks given about 'saving our friendship', or whatever bullshit you made up. Just wanted a chance to get back at me?”

“You've been lying to me for weeks, yn! And you're supposed to be my best friend!? Best friends don't lie to each other.” You don't bother to mask the bitter laugh that falls from your lips.

Best friend. Best friend. The way she threw the word around as if it meant nothing. Treated it like it meant nothing. Just a label. Only close because you lived that way, but all the other best friend elements? Zero to none. The way she went out of your way to do all of this just proved it, more than anything.

“Are you supposed to be mine? Have you ever stopped to think why I felt like I had to hide this from you, huh? Or did you even think about how much it was killing me knowing how badly this would hurt you? Because that's the last thing that I wanted to do.” You're not yelling anymore, voice oddly level. And it's more off-putting than the sound of your shout.

“And I bet you thought I jumped at the chance to be with him, huh? Did you think for a second that I tried to fight my feelings for in, for your sake, and couldn't? Fuck all of that, right? Why would you have to worry about that, it's not like it matters, right? No, fuck the fact that I've actually fallen in love with the guy – which is much more serious than a stupid crush, might I add. Fuck all of that, because it makes you unhappy, right?”

There's more at the tip of your tongue, so much more than you've been holding back for the past seventeen years. Things that you didn't even think had bothered you before, but it's like the list keeps going on and on. You want to lay it all out, but your head is such a mess and it feels like everything is slipping all at once.

Tightness growing in your chest and spreading to your cheeks, eyes feeling heavy like they always do before you start crying. Sad about Jimin. This stupid friendship that you wanted so badly to save. Realizing that you had been the only one that cared that much.

“You don't love him. You were just trying to take him away from me like you always do...” Her words have your eyes bulging out of your head, jaw-dropping in disbelief. This girl really didn't quit, huh?

“What?” You try because maybe you didn't hear her right. Maybe she didn't disregard all of what you had managed to get out, focusing on the one bit that had absolutely nothing to do with her. “Name one thing that I've ever taken from you, Miju. Because how I remember it I've been bending over backward just to keep you from falling apart.”

She scoffs, rolls her big eyes before answering. “Yeah, exactly. You were always looking down on me. 'Ooh, poor little girl can't take care of herself, let me swoop in'. Always two steps behind me all the time, making sure nothing happens, protecting me when I never asked you to!”

“You're mad because I looked out for you?” Disbelief is evident in your tone. Slightly convinced that she might be joking, because if she was really mad about something like that then she should've learned to hold herself up a long time ago.

Not made it seem like she was so needy all the time, acting helpless until you were forced to swoop in and fix everything. Like you always did. Without a moment of hesitation, but not anymore. Way past over it. Over the worrying. Over this fight. Over this conversation. Over her.

“I can't do this,” You're deciding with a shake of your head, a defeated raise of your arms. “I can't even be around your right now.” You're turning to leave the kitchen, scooping up your jacket discarded earlier.

Miju is hot on your trail, flops hitting against the hardwood as she moves to catch up with you. “Wait. Where are you going?” You don't say anything as you pull your jacket back on, her being the least of your worries at this point.

There were more important things than this childish back and forth with her. You had tried to tell her, the right way – maturely. She didn't want that, and instead came up with this whole plan to do what exactly? Hurt you as you had done to her? Make you feel humiliated? Great, she did it.

Got her way like she always did, you just couldn't bring yourself to care like you always do. “I'm going to see my boyfriend.” Eyes piercing as you lift your gaze to her, tightening the bow on your coat before turning and exiting her house.

Letting the door slam behind you without bothering to look back.

PART TWO OUT TOMORROW!

– girl code rule #1: never, ever, under any circumstances fall for your best friend’s crush. but what happens when your best friend’s crush checks all the boxes of your ideal guy… and to make matters worse… he’s crazy about you too.

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

essek!!! honestly anything lol but maybe (i'll try to keep it vague for spoiler reasons) after ep 131 or ep 124, maybe a confession fic? if you aren't caught up just a general how a confession would go please! i love your writing and blog btw, all your caleb stuff is so 👌👌👌

Thank you for your request and yes I am caught up. I hope you enjoy this one.

Warning spoilers for Episode 124

Essek’s betrayal hit you hard. Sure you’d considered the possibility but being faced with that truth so upfront hurt, a lot. You’d been able to avoid him for the longest of times thanks to the Nein being taken in different directions. You simply couldn’t face him. After the party in Nicordanas you put on a brave face and you agreed with Caleb wholeheartedly but you didn’t have the strength to say these words yourself. Any interaction you had between then and now had been cordial and straight to the point whereas before there were plenty of pleasantries, some flirting even and the realisation your flirting was rooted within your own feelings. You’re a good enough people reader to know that his, at the very least were rooted in affection and before Nicodranas you might have seen a possible bright future for the both of you. Even after his betrayal was revealed your feelings remained but they were overshadowed by your pain. It felt like your heart was ripped from your chest.

The trust, kindness, his affections for you, were they all just something to be exploited in a bigger plot. He said at first he was using the Nein but he grew attached so had you just been a pawn in a bigger ploy he felt sorry for? So many questions you had asked yourself over the last weeks, months even at this point and none of them you dared to answer so you didn’t. You pushed them aside and moved on. You pushed Essek out of your mind because it was easier than dealing with the pain. Pushing something away only works for so long. He’d come back into your life sooner rather than later. Aeor came closer in view and after the absolute shit show with the Tombtakers all of you were at your wits end. You didn’t want to pull anyone along into this chaos and especially not a certain wizard who’s proven himself to be prone to his desires for pursuit of knowledge and power; a thing you’d be serving on a silver platter but you really had no better options at this point.

The closer to your destination you got the more closed off you became. Face devoid of emotion and voice monotone, direct and without a single break you’d begun to mentally prepare yourself for your upcoming encounter to the point where you were seriously considering you might actually prefer another encounter with the Tombtakers over facing Essek. Your gradual shift in behaviour must have caught some attention as you quickly had a Jester at your side attempting to make happy conversation and lift your spirit and provide distraction. You tried to play along but the pitying smile from Caleb told you about how good a job you were doing. Nevermind the tiefling never quit and you could appreciate that. Jester cares and you were hurting so she did whatever she could to make it better.

You eventually made it to the outpost and your ‘official’ mode kicked in taking over for Beau when she started butchering Undercommon. You presented yourself with an air of authority and purpose and that seemed to do the job very well. And there he was in all his miserable glory putting on a similar face as yours. He was caught off guard by Jester running in and hugging him and while he looked at you his eyes quickly avoided. Even though the conversations that followed you had no problem looking at him, sure he could feel your eyes burning but your gaze remained cold and distant; the way he had seen you face an enemy and the way you study when in company you don’t trust, watching the danger like a hawk for every single twitch. In this conversation it was very clear he had a hard time keeping eye contact but he was straight up avoiding both you and Caleb and you could put two and two together; shame. He was ashamed of everything he did and caused that much was sure.

In a more private setting without the continuous presence of Dynasty soldiers the Nein told him everything that had occurred the past few weeks and slowly but surely his facade faltered, the gravity of the situation kicking in and him contemplating, taking in all the information you provided. You didn’t speak to him directly and only gave your input when it came to queries among the Nein having nothing to add directed at Essek.

“I’ve spent so much of my life focussed on myself, my climb, all of my selfish needs. I’ve never really been trusted and so I did not trust. And I never let anyone close. I have been clouded in my judgement many times for a lot of my life. When I- when you gave me trust, it gave me a perspective that was so agonisingly striking. So easy to see that I refused to acknowledge it at first, even. I would be lying if I said that our paths crossing hasn’t shaken me to the core and I’m appreciative and thankful for this perspective, but you do not owe me trust for what I’ve done.” Those words hit hard and you found yourself biting down on your lip to prevent yourself from speaking. All the feelings you tried to push away so hard came back up and you were fighting to hold them at bay to prevent yourself from saying something you’d regret. Luckily the others jumped in allowing you to keep your silence.

The conversation continued and Caleb made some good points making sure to make eye contact with you every so often to make sure you were alright and in agreement. You were interrupted after the mentions of Dagen and some shouting outside. You’d say you were surprised but really you weren’t though the sight of the man holding onto one of the Aurora Watch soldiers while presenting the letter he was told to deliver was quite the sight and made you quickly cover up a snort. Not quick enough apparently as some did catch on. Eventually back inside Jester began to insinuate Caleb should show the red eyes on his skin but you quickly shut that down, the first words you had spoken since you got here.

“What are we talking about?” Essek asks confused.

“Nothing you need concern yourself with.” Your words were colder than you intended but got the message across clear it seemed. They quickly shifted the subject back to Lucien, Aeor, the Somnovum, Vess being indisposed, gathering further allies until you landed on possibly considering bringing Astrid and Eadwulf into this opposed to Trent himself it was revealed or more like confirmed Essek had had dealings with the man in the past, persuading you all not to go to the Assembly. And because Veth slipped up you had to come clean about Vess’ actual state; dead in the hands of Lucien who killed her without as much as the blink of an eye. You were very much aware he was on the brink of a mental breakdown and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

Hot cocoa was passed around and you did not refuse Beau’s offer of a good pour of whiskey while the conversation continued in regards to the Beacons and some choice of words and theories around the Beacons that could be considered sacrilege among the Dynasty. You were planning out the delve into the ruins Essek suggesting it would be best to go your separate ways until you were ready to traverse Aeor. The conversation ends and you are about to go your separate ways bedding down for the night until you would travel to gather allies and supplies. Caleb stays at your side aware of how you’re handling things but he stops with you before you leave catching Essek by the forearm.

“Breathe. Just.. breathe that fresh air mindful of the people about. Time. Time. Not weeks. Not years. It takes time.” He was speaking to Essek but you knew the words were directed at you as well. For the first time you deliberately meet eyes looking over your shoulder as you join the rest of the Nein. You were lead to a reasonably sized room, small for all of you but much more preferable to the ice and snow outside. You take time to settle down and eventually sit down with Beau and Caleb.

“I don’t trust any of this.” You tell them hugging your knees to your chest.

“I’m with you. It’s just too much. Too many risks. To many cards not yet in play that could shake this whole game up.” Beau agrees.

“But we have to make a choice and Essek is our safest and most certain bet. Every option is risky.” Caleb has a point and it’s one you’ve been using to justify and be at peace with all of this.

“I’m afraid that he’s going to realise the pressure is too much and he’ll bolt. Or the Assembly catches up to him before we get back and they’ll rat him out but my biggest concern right now is for the Tombtakers to travel faster than we’re expecting. What if they get here? Our advantage will be gone.” The rest of the Nein having turned into the conversation had to agree with you there. If your or Essek’s enemies somehow got involved you’d be screwed.

“You got a point. So how do we solve this? Essek said it’s best to go our separate ways until we got our stuff sorted so we can’t really stick around and we’d still be traceable if we split up. It’s a risk we’ll have to take as it’s the safest for both of us now.” Beau contemplates trying to formulate a better plan. You already had a plan and you didn’t like it for one minute but it was all you got.

“I know how we solve this. You give me the amulet and I stay behind. That way they can’t scry on me as long as I’m here. They can scry on us when we’re together anyway and with only one amulet we’re not going to get very far. You gather everything we need, get whatever help we can get and come back here when you’re ready to leave.” You can hardly believe your own mind could make the decision regardless of your personal opinions.

“And you’re okay staying behind with Essek to keep an eye on him? What if Lucien and his gang shows up?”

“Beau, I’ll manage. My personal feelings don’t matter in the bigger picture for now. I can get over myself. As for the Tombtakers, Essek’s gonna be a fat load of good when he can’t use his magic. If they get here before you return I’ll get him out of here and to Aeor myself if I have to. Can’t defeat them but I sure as hell can outrun them for a while.” You assured them, a couple of nods and attempts to protest eventually resulted in the agreement. You’d stay behind. One final rest and everyone would be finishing their unfinished business, say their goodbyes and hellos, get their closure and prepare for the worst. Yet you couldn’t see yourself anywhere but here. Sure you wanted to be there for your friends but they could do without you. You were needed here so maybe your own unfinished business had to conclude right here where you are.

You said your goodbyes and the Nein were off leaving you alone in the makeshift chamber. You inhale deeply and exhale slowly counting to ten in your head and leave the room. The back of your mind tells you this was a mistake and you definitely couldn’t do this but there’s no way back now so you put on your brave face and make your way to Essek’s chambers. In front of the door you wait, count to ten again and put on your brave face before you knock on the door. The door swings open.

“Y/n. I was not expecting to see you. Please come in.” He speaks glancing around you for any of the guard that could possibly hear him. The moment you force yourself to enter the door closes behind you and you can see him deflate just a little, all manner of composure dropping for a moment before he looks up at you from behind his desk. Up front he may appear composed once more but his eyes tell a different story. Panic, surprise, questions, fear and shame.

“Have you come to say goodbye?” A slight break of his voice at the last word. Oh Essek you really dropped the ball haven’t you, you think to yourself.

“No actually. I came to tell you the others have left and I’ll be staying behind.” He goes to protest getting up from his seat. Fear, concern and something you can’t identify peak through.

“So unless you’re planning to take me to wherever they have gone yourself resulting in you having to get back here with all the potential risks you’ve priorly described, I’m staying here and there’s nothing you can do about it so suck it up, darling.” You mentally kick yourself for using that last word. You didn’t mean to but you slipped up falling back in old habits.

“You’re putting yourself at great risk by staying here so please let me take you back to the others.” He comes closer to you and you stay your ground.

“Sorry. Not going to happen, Essek. I’m staying. I can’t be scried upon so I’ll be fine.”

“There’s many more dangers than the risk of being scried upon.”

“Which ones would you be referring to? The assassins after you? Or maybe the risk of you being discovered? The person who sent the assassins getting antsy and exposing you to the Dynasty?Being a traitor to your nation and a catalyst in a bigger plot you have no control over? The Tombtakers and their shenanigans? Literally anything to do with Aeor? The alleged death and or plotting of the demise of extremely powerful mages? Keeping secrets and being prepared to find or create a scapegoat to cover up the fact that the peace agreement between two nations which is already hanging by a single thread was based on the lies and deceit of another? Or perhaps it’s your uncanny ability to pursuit the path to your own destruction and your terrible sense of judgement and eye for consequences? Oh or maybe the fact that if we don’t stop all of this the world like we know it will possibly come to an end and we’ll could just end up dealing with yet another Calamity scale event? Take your pick because I’m pretty sure I’m already involved in what? All of them? But please be my guest and pick one!” You lost all composure you had but the more you talk the more you realise you couldn’t keep all of this pent up. It does you no good.

“My apologies. I won’t ask for your forgiveness as-“ You cut him off. You’re on a roll so you’re gonna get this over with while you’re at it; speak your mind openly without restrained.

“Yet you still have it! For some stupid reason I find it within myself to forgive you for all horrible thing you’ve done but the one; I can’t seem to get over the fact you betrayed my trust. That you didn’t trust me when it mattered and that I was nothing but a pawn in your game and you discarded the trust I put in you so easily.” You can feel your voice crack multiple times throughout your words and you curse yourself for doing so. Essek looks at his feet lips tightly pushed together.

“Perhaps my expectations were too high.” You spat about to storm out of the room but the door remained closed.

“Essek let me go.” You glared at him. He couldn’t even give you that? A departure with dignity before you broke down?

“You’ve said your part I think it’s only fair I say mine. Though if you wish to leave I won’t hold you here. You’re free to set foot where you please. I know I have no right to but I ask only a moment.” You brace yourself already mentally kicking yourself for coming to this decision so quickly and not even being able to tell yourself why you shouldn’t.

“Fine. I’ll hear what you have to say.” You cross your arms and take a few steps back in his direction.

“From the moment I’ve met you I’ve been captivated by you but I simply couldn’t get over myself and admit to myself that maybe what I’m doing isn’t worth the collateral. You made me feel guilt and regret but I pushed that aside because I there was no way back from what I had already set into motion. I meant what i said, I have grown attached to your little group and I would even go as far as to call them friends something I haven’t been able to call anyone. Not truly without ulterior motives. But you’ve always been something more. I know I will repent for my sins but I will not drag you down that path with me. I love you too much to allow that to happen. So I beg of you, do not put yourself at risk for my sake.” Finally he looks at you without looking away or avoiding your direct gaze.

“I refuse to let you become collateral in my actions. No matter how much I want you at my side I know you simply cannot be and I have come to accept that. Please grant me the dignity of excluding you from my own demise.”

“What you want and what you get are two very different things Essek.” You definitely heard the proclamation of love but it was said in the heat of the moment so you let it go for now choosing to ignore it.

“Believe me I am very much aware. Just as I am aware I have ruined what we had and perhaps even the chance of one day earning your love should you ever give it to me. While I may wish I could change the past I would never change meeting you and the moments we shared. The mere thought of your smile makes me feel a fraction of your warmth in this cold wasteland and I could die a happy man should it be the last thing I see. I believe my worst fear to have come true when it became clear I may never see that smile of yours again. I cannot deny my feelings for you so I won’t and I will assure you I am honest and open when I say that I love you. I’d rather say it now before we both walk into our deaths when we set foot in those ruins.”

“I know I have no right to and I will admit I am a selfish man when I hope you will at least tell me that you might have shared my feelings were the circumstances different.” His feet touch the ground and he studies you for any response but finds none.

“You are a fool. Hopeless. You are selfish and hardly ever look out for anyone but yourself. You would betray anyone if it were to further your own interests or save your own hide. You’d sacrifice anything and anyone to get what you want, price be damned.” You begin stepping closer to him and you can see him break just a little on the inside.

“That’s what I want to believe but I simply can’t. My own mind argues against all the things it reasonably tries to claim you to be. Yes you are a fool but you are also one of the cleverest and most intriguing people I’ve ever met. You’re not hopeless. You are selfish but your selfishness knows boundaries as displayed by your guilt and regret and shame. You would betray anyone but only if it meant you it allowed you to save what you care about and you’d sacrifice anything and everything to protect it. But I still wonder. Was it worth it? Making the choices you did was it worth putting yourself in this place?”

“No. Most of the results while desired were not worth the cost.” Again the guilt and shame rises.

“Then you have learned. So I will give you what you need; my honestly. We both know that these flirtations we’ve had are more than just that. Back then I could have seen a future where you and I could have had something beautiful but I will also admit I have not seen the same thing ever since our last meeting. I do not see a future not because my feelings for you have disappeared but simply because it is unpredictable. It’s fickle much like the Dunamancy you study. And that’s exactly how a future should be, right? Uncertain and unpredictable. What we’re walking into is just that. So if we do make it out alive I’m sure that future will be much clearer once we’re no longer on the brink of destruction.” You step up close enough and put a hand on his cheek making him look you in the eye.

“I don’t understand.” He begins.

“Let me spell it out for you.” You move your lips closer to his and when he doesn’t pull away you place your lips on his in a chaste kiss.

“Do you get it now?” You say as you pull apart.

“I think I may need another explanation to make sure I caught that right.” He stumbles a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks so you oblige and kiss him again.

“I love you.” You say leaning your forehead against his.

“I love you too.” Both of you laugh taking in the craziness of the situation. You went from being upset to arguing to honesty and a confession of love. This truly must be something recorded in some romance novel in Jester’s collection. Ridiculous but true.

“You may be a fool Essek Thelyss, but you are my fool and don’t you forget.”

#critical role x reader #mighty nein x reader #essek x reader #essek theyless #critrole x reader

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bludhavents · 3 years

Note

hiii ☺️ whenever you want/can, could you do random/fluff prompt 11 with Cedric?

11. “just trust me on this one” reader x cedric.

omg i loved writing this i’m sorry it took an extra day for me to post, i wanted to make sure i was really proud of it before i sent it out. thank you so much for the request i hope you enjoy reading🤎

Felix Fly-icis: Cedric Diggory x reader

“Bloody hell, y/n i’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you heard Ron yell through the hallway. You turned around with a puzzled look on your face; Don’t be mistaken, Ron was a sweet boy who you’d talked to on occasion, but by no means were the two of you friends. You had no idea why he’d be looking for you, nevermind what could be so important he felt the need to shout it out in the hallway.

“Oh, uh. Sorry, Ron, I didn’t know you were looking for me, what’s going on?” You spoke once he was caught up to you. His eyes opened wide and he took a deep breath and began speaking.

“Well Cedric told Cho who told Luna who told Neville who told Dean who told Harry who told me to tell you,” Ron gasped for air before continuing, “Cedric wants you to meet him at the Quidditch field for lunch. Something about Liquid Luck. Or maybe it was Felix Felicis, I don’t remember,” his eyebrows drew together as he tried to think back to what Harry told him. “Either way, I’m almost positive he said the Quidditch field. Almost. You won’t be mad if I’m wrong, will you?” The expression on his face was nothing short of terror.

You let out a small laugh, “Ron, it’s okay. Liquid Luck and Felix Felicis are the same thing, genius. And I promise I won’t be mad. Thank you for passing the message on, see you later.”

With that, Ron turned around and made his way down the opposite side of the hallway, leaving you to ponder why in Merlin’s name Cedric would choose to meet at the Quidditch field. He knew how you felt about the sport.

Quidditch certainly was not for everyone. Neither was flying in general, for that matter. Despite the countless times Professor Sprout had tried her best to convince you that flying on a broomstick isn’t as terrifying as it seems, you refused to try and had no intention of ever doing so.

Poor Professor Sprout had truly done everything she could think of to help you overcome your fear of heights, but it was no use. The thought of not being able to put your feet on the ground, the possibility of falling, and the rare—but possible owl collisions always instilled the idea that flying was dangerous and had every right to be feared. Quite honestly you were surprised to be the only one in your class who was afraid of heights, in the Muggle world it’s a very common fear, almost every Muggle was some degree of acrophobic, but it’s no surprise that the Wizards werent afraid to defy the laws of nature.

You often didn’t even attend Quidditch matches even though you’d be tucked away safe in the bleachers; Seeing your housemates gliding through the air and trying to knock the opponent off their respective broom made you queasy. You thought Quidditch was a fine sport, in fact you always wished you could overcome your fear and learn to play, but the idea itself was laughable. Everyone at Hogwarts knew that you were afraid of flying.

So to say Cedric’s invitation to meet at the Quidditch field was strange would be the understatement of the century. Not to mention the Liquid Luck, it took six months to brew for goodness sake. Despite his own self-doubt, you were sure Ron got the right potion name. If he could remember the long list of people the message had gone through before it reached you, you were sure he could remember the message itself.

After you pushed your curiosity aside, you were excited to spend time with Cedric. You made your way through the corridor and sat in the back of the DADA classroom replaying the day you became friends with Ced.

You’d properly met him at the beginning of the semester after someone told him about your acrophobia. With this new information, Cedric had taken it upon himself to ask if you wanted him to teach you. He was very kind about it all, and you could tell he genuinely wanted to help you; There was no judgement or teasing in his tone. He was always a very admirable person in your eyes, and was without a doubt the most hufflepuffely Hufflepuff you’d ever met. Being a Hufflepuff yourself, you knew what true loyalty and compassion looked like, and Cedric was a shining example.

Your hesitation was seemingly very clear to Cedric after he proposed the idea of lessons. He spent almost an hour in the Common Room assuring you that he didn’t mind going as slow as you needed to, telling you that he wouldn’t pressure you to do anything you didn’t want to do, and saying that you could quit whenever you pleased. He just wanted to help you and get to know you.

The first lesson was absolutely dreadful. The typical anxiety you felt about flying was now paired with the nervousness that comes with being alone with a very handsome boy. Despite him being as empathetic and careful as possible, Cedric couldn’t get you to even watch him fly for more than sixty seconds at a time. Needless to say the first lesson was also your last. Cedric didn’t want you to quit, but he understood where you were coming from. The two of you got along really well, though, and he was the first person who made you laugh through your anxiety. After the two of you hit it off so well that day, Cedric proposed a lunch at the Black Lake.

So for the past six months you and Cedric spent four days a week eating, laughing, and sometimes even swimming at the Black Lake during lunch hour. It was easy with him. He made you feel comfortable, understood, and carefree, and you did the same for him. The two of you enjoyed each other’s company more than anything else; It was almost addictive. A lot of the moments shared between the two of you could’ve easily been considered romantic, and although neither of you had ever had a conversation about wanting to date, there was a sort of unspoken agreement that you each had feelings for the other. It wasn’t hard to miss, either. Cedric and you had such an intense chemistry that one would have to be a fool to not recognize it as love.

Professor Lupin pulled you out of your thoughts as he dismissed the class and sent you on your way to lunch. You were careful to blend in with the hallway traffic flow, so you headed towards the Dining Hall with the rest of the students before you broke away from the crowd and hurried off into the girl’s quidditch locker room. You knew all of the players would be off to lunch already, but that didn’t stop you from rushing across the room and leaving through the back exit that led straight to the field. When you stepped into the bright sunlight you didn’t see Cedric anywhere, and a quick moment of panic struck you at the thought that maybe Ron had relayed the message wrong and Cedric was waiting for you somewhere else. Your worries quickly dissipated when Cedric seemingly appeared out of thin air. He was barely hovering on his brand new nimbus 2000 over the grass in the middle of the field. His smile was as charming as ever and in his hands he held his old broom and a tiny potion bottle.

“Y/n!” He quickly flew to your side and landed on one knee next to you. Cedric held the potion bottle in his hand like a wedding ring, “Hi.”

You laughed, he surely could be extra cute when he tried, “Hi, Cedric.” You gave him a gentle pat on the top of the head.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “Oh Y/n dearest, I come today to present you with one bottle of liquid luck,” he was talking like Dumbledore, and his dorky grin grew bigger as he kept going. “The day we met you wouldn’t even touch a broom, and I made it my personal duty to have you try. So today, as I present you with the magic potion, you will fly.” By the end of his speech you were so lost in his sparkling eyes it took you a minute to process his words.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah! Come on, it’ll be okay,” He reached for your hand and you helped him back to his feet.

“I don’t really understand what you mean,” you let out a nervous laugh as he handed you his old broomstick.

“I was thinking, you just have to take some liquid luck and you’ll have no chance of falling!” The excitement was evident across his features.

“Oh, uh-,” you stammered. “I don’t know how i feel about this.” His plan was good, but there was no way you were going to be able to talk yourself up onto the broom. You felt bad, he’d probably been brewing this since the week you met and you didn’t want to let him down.

“I promise I’ll be right there with you. Please, just trust me on this one,” you searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, and before you could think about it you grabbed the bottle out of his hand and drank the liquid luck.

“Yes!” Cedric threw his arms in the air and hopped back on his broom, flying straight up and doing a backflip in celebration of your sudden boost in confidence.

The potion tasted terrible, but you didn’t have much time to think of your regrets before it took affect. Your whole body felt lighter and you became giddy with excitement before tightening your grip on his old broom. Cedric came back down to the ground and shook your shoulders, you thought he might’ve been more excited than you were.

“Okay, are you ready to try this?” He calmed down a tad and made direct eye contact. You responded without a moment’s hesitation.

“So ready.”

He cheered in excitement before taking both of the brooms and setting them on the ground, just a little bit apart from eachother. He moved to stand over his broom and you did the same to yours. The two of you simultaneously lifted your brooms into the air and shared a look of pure joy.

“On the count of three, okay?” Cedric reached out to hold your hand. “One. Two. Three!”

You let go of his hand as you both took off into the air, laughter ringing in your ears as you experienced the thrill of flying for the first time ever. Luckily you’d known how to fly, so the liquid luck was only calming your nerves, the rest was your talent.

“Cedric I’m doing it!” You looked beside you and saw how much fun he was having, the proudness overcoming his features as you conquered your biggest fear.

“You’re really doing it, you’re flying, y/n!” He shouted back.

The two of you were in the air for hours, forgetting about the rest of your classes and messing with eachother above the quidditch field. When the sun started to set, the two of you headed back down to the field and landed.

“Thank you, Cedric. This was the best day of my life,” you breathed out, wrapping Cedric in a tight hug.

“Mine too,” he said, hugging you back and resting his chin on top of your head. “You know that I have feelings for you right?” Cedric blurted out.

“Yeah, I know,” you spoke into his chest. “I have feelings for you too, Ced.”

#harry potter #cedric imagine #cedric x reader #cedric x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #cedric diggory #cedric diggory fanfiction #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x you #hufflepuff!reader

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wouldduskwood · 3 years

Text

Jake's POV Descendants of Despair Part 59

Though having a purpose helped to distract me from what could have been, I still could not shake the mixture of feelings. The fact that she loved me so much she would commit herself to me, it was something I never really imagined would happen. Especially not with someone that genuinely loved and trusted me. I didn't deserve her. I wanted to be strong enough to leave her, before I hurt her. I was making myself miserable with it. I forced myself to focus on what we were doing, temporarily forget what had happened, but it was tough.

Finally, I was drawn into the nuances of human behaviour. As I read, the lies, the deceit..it was no wonder she had never trusted anyone. They all had a hidden agenda. Usually it was for an entirely selfish reason. Where MC and I had both been selfish in ways, they had usually been either for survival or to protect each other. The selfishness I saw on these websites were all purely to protect the self from their own lies and betrayals. So many people cheating on the people they supposedly loved. When I considered my relationship with MC, there was no way in hell I could see myself ever wanting anyone else. I knew she felt the same. It was inconceivable to me that this many people thought it was okay to have sex with whomever they pleased.

“Jake...uh...I’m glad you’re not a real boy...if being a real boy means this shit.” She sighed as she indicated the screen. “I’m not sure we are going to be able to pull this off too well. I won’t be able to see her reaction to things so won’t be able to know whether she is lying or shielding things and you won’t be able to tell me what your thoughts are. I think our best bet is going to have to be to make the meeting as short and to the point as possible.”

I nodded, both perplexed and horrified at what I was reading on the screen. “I guess this is one reason I am glad I went into hacking...the other people that are hacking as well all know that we are hiding stuff and very likely lying to each other. It’s like an unwritten social code. But this…” I groaned, indicating the screen with disgust. “We may have to do this soon so I don’t have too much time to freak out.”

“How quickly can you get an earpiece sorted?” She asked. My mind quickly drifted to the pieces I already had. I was relatively sure I had everything I'd need. “That won’t take long, I think I can piece one together myself. Can you sort out a meeting. Uh...I’m not sure where to take her that doesn’t look like a murder house.” I replied hesitantly and was somewhat taken aback when she giggled in response. “It’s nothing, just you didn’t mind giving Dan the illusion of a murder house, taking him to the abandoned warehouse,” She grinned. “Dan needed a good dose of fear,” I snickered. It was unfortunate that the surroundings hadn't seemed to get through to him. I'd have to try harder next time. “Can you sort a place? I trust you to find somewhere that won’t terrify her or out me.” I suggested.

I began to work, examining the small pieces I had as well as the tech that I could connect remotely to it. As I worked, I glanced at her every now and then. “Wait...I’m thinking about this all wrong,” She stated, breaking the silence and causing me to pause in my work. “I was thinking of a building that would give the illusion of comfort for Lilly and security for us, but I realised that is just stupid. What about the lake in Duskwood. We take an offshoot away from the main area and wait there. There won’t be cameras and it’s highly unlikely anyone will be around.”

“Hm, as long as we stay away from the forest, although if we go near it we could possibly run into the man without the face and then we may get a chance to end it once and for all.” I grinned, then forced myself to stop. Knowing her, somehow the man without a face would track her down and I'd be stuck with Lilly somewhere else. There was no way I should have been joking about it. “You’re right, that’s probably the most comforting place for Lilly. If we leave quickly we won’t be too likely to strike anyone else. Can you set it up?”

She grabbed her phone and as she looked for Lilly's contact, I quickly pulled up the mirror of her phone and Lilly's on my screen.

Lilly

MC: Hey Lilly

Lilly is online

Lilly: OMG where have you been?

MC: Something happened so I had to leave where I was staying, but I’m good now.

Lilly: Really? Is there something that you aren’t telling me MC?

I wondered briefly how she would tackle this. Would she tell Lilly the truth? Would she talk about me? Would she mention her love? Logically I knew that it was much safer if she was vague, but still I couldn't help but hope.

MC: Yes actually, Jake has asked me to set up a meeting with you. He was a bit nervous reaching out himself in case you refused.

Lilly: OMG really, he wants to meet up? Oh I’m so nervous!

MC: Listen, it won’t be a long meeting, you know how his life is. Just don’t get too excited for something he may not be able to provide for you.

Lilly: OH yes I do understand but still...I’m going to meet my big brother!

MC: I will contact you soon with timing, but it will be at Duskwood lake. Can you find a private area somewhere around there and then give Jake the coordinates or let him track you?

Lilly: Yes I think I know a place. I’ll do that. I’ll be waiting by my phone!

As I watched Lilly's phone, I saw she had disconnected too. That gave me a bit more faith in my half sister. She hadn't told anyone of the impending meeting. I hoped that it would stay that way. I closed MC's screen and kept Lilly's open, just incase.

She had disconnected quickly, cutting Lilly off before she could ask anything more that might elicit too much information being shared. I turned to her with a smile. “Nicely done.” I partially expected an angry reprimand at breaching her privacy, but to my pleasure she just continued speaking. She really did want me to know her as much as I wanted her to know myself. “Sorry I lied a bit. I thought it was best that she didn’t know too much.” She murmured. I smiled. “It’s fine, you did well. I’ll have this up and running soon. Do you want to sort out some food? It’s been a while since we last ate and we should still have something in the car.” She nodded thankfully, which pleased me too. I was getting good at taking care of her...and myself in the process. Maybe I was the nurturing type.

I busied myself with the fine art of piecing together an ear piece out of bits and pieces I had pulled out from a small pouch I kept amongst my tech gear. It was a tedious process but it felt good to be doing something worthwhile. I was interrupted in my work when she carried a meal over to me. She had put a fair bit of effort into her presentation, was I was thankful for. It made the unappealing array of food somewhat more palatable. We ate in silence then I began working again while she watched. When I glanced at her, she was looking at me.

“Okay, I’m going to test this. So, I have managed to hook up a rudimentary microphone as well as the ear piece. It will transmit okay, but it may be staticky so you will need to be aware it may be hard to hear things. I should be able to hear you fine from this part here.” I said, indicating various parts of the creation. Her expression confused me. “Uh, I’m pretty sure it will work…” I mumbled, suddenly self conscious.

“You’re incredible,” She murmured, instantly wiping away my self conscious feeling and replacing it with joy. I became oddly proud of the small part I played in this. “Let’s give it a go then I’ll message Lilly. We will try and do this tomorrow!” I smiled nervously then gave her a quick kiss, attempting to refrain from pouncing on her then and there. Together we tested my equipment. I walked various distances away to test the range. It seemed pretty reliable, and it was probably the best we had anyway. “Contact Lilly. Set it up,” I mumbled into the microphone, nervous about the direction my future would take now that my half sister would be involved. Maybe she could talk some sense into me. Help me save MC from pain...

Part 60

#duskwood jake x #duskwood jake pov #duskwood jakexplayer #duskwood jake x player #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fanfic #duskwood jakexmc fanfic #duskwood #duskwood jakexmc #fanfiction #fanfic #duskwood jake #jake x mc #jakexmc

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irreplaceable-ecstasyy · 4 years

Note

maryalene, running away together

“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble?”

“You’re only in trouble if you get caught, my dear...” A pause. “This is very uncharacteristic of you, Lena. You were always the daredevil.”

“This is different, Marya. If you were me, would you be daring enough to run away when you’re betrothed?”

“If it’s to be with the one I love, then yes.”

“Oh...”

“We’re going to be alright, Hélène. Do you trust me?”

“...Yes.”

Hélène clutched two letters within clenched her clenched fists, both addressed to her but sent by two different senders. The parchment littered in neatly written cursive handwriting with a very faint smell of roses was sent from her lover, Marya; whereas the other scribbled in illegible writing and decorated in clumsy ink stains and smudges was from Pierre. Both had been sent at the same time which was certainly not a coincidence. Hélène had read Marya’s one first to prepare herself for the contents of Pierre’s letter. The first question that came in mind was whether he knew about their plans and if he did, did he agree with them or not?

In Marya’s letter, she had written to tell Hélène about the escape plan she had cleverly devised with the help of an anonymous assistant. There was no mention of Pierre or of anyone else, just directions of what to do and how to carry out the plan effectively so that neither of them got caught if they were caught out of the instructions. It was a brilliant plan indeed but before Hélène could delve any further into the plan, she had to read Pierre’s letter first. There was still time to refuse running away if the odds were against her in Pierre’s letter or any sort of sign! If she received a signal of some sorts to reject the plan, she would take it. It was better than taking this great leap but now, she wanted nothing more than to flee from the life she was going to be chained to with a wedding band.

Opening the letter was painful and reading it only became more agonizing by the minute. However, as she skimmed through the letter the pain subsided into nothing but warmth, and her shoulders fell. Reading the letter to confirm the words that she had read with her own two eyes, she held it to her chest and closed her eyes, tears welling up in the corners. It was a short and simple message, one that pointed to the answers she needed. She was going to run away.

The message read: ‘Hélène, I am writing to you to inform you that I am aware of Marya’s plans to steal you away but you needn’t worry. I helped with the plan and made sure that it was fool-proof. I know my ways around your father and if anything happens, I will be there to answer his questions. I hope you find your happiness. We knew that neither of us would ever find it with each other so, please, take this chance to pursue yours. Don’t worry about me for I too have found my happiness. Feel free to write to me whenever you wish or if you require any help. Or Marya could do it. Take care of yourselves and be careful, alright? Yours, Pierre.’

Thrilled by this blessing that whichever God had blessed her with, she began to pack her things. According to Marya’s better, she suggested travelling light for they had many stops before they reach their destination. Poland. They would hide away, disappear from the public eye and take on new identities to prevent anyone from interfering with the life that they planned to have together. Being the terrible dragon of Moscow, Marya had contacts, several strings she could tug and the power to obtain what she wanted with a single command. Hélène truly had nothing to worry about for everything was mapped out in front of her. It was the matter of executing all that Marya had written in the plan. She packed the most convenient clothes for herself, none of which were the expensive layered dresses that she so often wore. Instead, she packed pants, blouses and simple undergarments. Not only were the clothes convenient, they were different from Hélène’s usual wardrobe which made it difficult to identify her in the covert escape by any watchful eyes.

Upon completion of her packing, she sat by the window and waited patiently for Marya. It only made sense to travel in the night for there would be no one awake to catch them and the darkness would obscure their faces from being spotted. Being two of the most prestigious women in Moscow, it heightened the challenge that they faced in their escape as it played a disadvantage of being recognized easily. They would make the most that they could with the resources that they had, even if it meant utilizing what the world had to offer. If all went well, then it was fate that sealed their plans to be a success.

A tap on her window was enough to send Hélène tiptoeing down the dimmed hallways with Anatole hot on her heels so that he could send his sister off with a proper goodbye. Anatole carried his sister’s bag while she led him through the dark. The padding of their footsteps was muffled by socks, an idea that Pierre had contributed to the fool-proof plan which Hélène had initially thought to be ridiculous. However, it was proven to be incredibly effective. They managed to sneak down the hallways without causing anyone to stir awake and once they reached the vestibule, they darted towards the doors without hesitation.

Dolokhov was already standing at the door, attending to a very displeased Marya who had expected Hélène to answer the door. The assassin leaned against the doorframe, grinning as he tried his best to entertain the redheaded woman until his friends arrived. When Marya saw Hélène advancing towards the door, she pushed Dolokhov aside and caught the smaller woman in her arms, lifting her up with child-like glee. Marya pressed a kiss to Hélène’s forehead and her arms enveloped her in a secured hug. It took little effort for Marya to lift the Kuragina up, much to the surprise of both the men who watched them from the side. Hélène wrapped her arms around Marya’s neck, muffling her giggles by burying her face in her neck while the other relished in the taste of freedom that they would soon be living in. The men were immediately ignored but they did not mind the lack of attention for once.

Anatole sniffled. “Oh, my sweet, sweet sister. I’ll miss you very much. I’m so proud that you’ve found your happiness.”

“Tolya… Don’t cry. We’ll meet again for sure.” Marya placed Hélène down so that she could embrace her brother who was reduced to tears. “I’ll miss you too. So much.”

“Don’t forget me, alright?” Producing a photo of himself, he placed it in Hélène’s hand. “To remember me.”

“Stop being so overdramatic, you little idiot. I will never forget you. And don’t worry about photographs, I’ve got my album packed up,” Hélène laughed softly as she nudged Anatole who managed a smile.

“Just in case, you know?” Anatole jested.

Dolokhov stepped in, bumping Anatole to the side. “Alrighty, my turn. Hélène, you were always a free soul but I’m so happy that you’ve found someone to love and someone who loves you the same.”

“Thank you, Fedya… Like you said, it was all a matter of time,” Hélène murmured before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Someone lucky was bound to sweep you off your feet. But I never thought that it would be the Grand Dame of Moscow.” He motioned Marya who scowled at him.

“Love is just strange. I never thought it would be her either but here we are,” Hélène sighed.

“Just take care of yourself, alright? I wish the both of you a wonderful life. And don’t you ever forget to write to us. If you do, we’re coming there personally to find the both of you,” Dolokhov threatened with a mock glare.

“Yes, sir!”

“So, shall we go now? I doubt that Balaga can wait any longer,” Marya called out from where where stood.

Dolokhov pulled Hélène into a final hug, patting her head before pulling away to look at Marya. “Take care of her, will you, Marya?”

Taking Hélène’s hand in hers and picking up her bag with a free hand, Marya nodded. “I will. I promise.”

“Is this a proposal?” Anatole swooned as he leaned against Hélène.

“Perhaps it is,” Marya hummed, raising a brow at Hélène whose eyes glittered underneath the midnight moon. “Farewell to the both of you and take care of yourselves.”

“That might be the kindest thing you’ve ever said to us,” Dolokhov teased which earned him a nudge in the ribs from Hélène. “I meant to say thank you.”

After another round of hugs, Marya ushered Hélène out of the house. They could barely hear the door click shut behind them or the tapping of footsteps rushing back to their bedrooms. The gift of stealth did come to good use for once in their lives. Trudging through a blanket of snow, the women made it to the troika safely, just a little soaked at the cuffs of their travelling pants and the soles of their shoes from the melted snow. While Marya handled the baggage, she urged Hélène to get comfortable in their carriage. It was unlike Balaga to use a carriage but he had insisted as opposed to riding a troika due to how revealing the form of transportation was.

Hélène greeted Balaga before entering the carriage and she waited in there until Marya boarded the vehicle. Once the door closed, the were off. The horses galloped down the snowy path, the sight of the Kuragin estate growing smaller behind them then disappearing out of sight. Soon enough, they were encapsuled by a landscape of ice and blurry shades of grey and white, with the occasional yellow glimmer of the streetlamps. The night sky was freckled with stars that shone brightly, the moon at its zen which indicated that it was still somewhat early in the night. There was still time to marvel at the beauties they missed at night. But, Hélène resorted to enjoying the rest of her night marvelling at the woman beside her whose arms were wrapped around her waist.

Marya had draped her shawl over Hélène as a blanket while she sought warmth from her lover’s body that was pressed up against hers. Gazing at Marya, it was as though the entire world disappeared around Hélène, save for the halo of moonlight that pooled around the older woman. She noticed the smallest details that she had not before, details that she could even see without much light. Marya did not tie her hair up into its usual intricate style. They cascaded down her shoulders in locks of curls that tickled Hélène’s neck from where she laid against Marya’s chest and she could see red streaks whitening into a paler orange. Instead of a dress, she had worn a white blouse paired with a mahogany pair of pants, and for shoes, she had donned a set of black boots suitable for the winter. Hélène had never seen Marya like this. It was uncharacteristic of her to be out of the formalities but it was the same for Hélène. Had they already settled into their new identities? Yes, as free women.

Marya caught Hélène staring at her and extended a hand to brush a few tendrils of hair out of her eyes. She craned her neck to press a loving kiss to her lips, smiling when it was reciprocated. Hélène clung onto Marya with no intention of letting and it was not like Marya would let her go any time soon.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” Marya asked quietly.

“Excited but nervous… But over it all, excited,” Hélène mumbled as she rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I can’t believe it either. It feels so surreal,” Marya admitted with a light laugh.

Silence befell over them for a moment before Hélène spoke. “Masha… What did you mean about the proposal just now?”

“Hm?”

“When Anatole asked?”

Marya clicked her tongue. “Ah… I’m afraid he ruined the surprise then. Sniffed me out immediately.”

“Oh… Wait. What?”

Marya dug through the pocket of her pants and produced a miniature box. Flipping it open with one hand, she took the ring out and Hélène sat upright, eyes widened into the size of saucers as she stared at the accessory. “I was going to propose to you but I didn’t know when would be the right time. I don’t suppose a troika is a wonderful place to do it but since you asked and I can’t wait any longer…” Marya, with what little space the troika had, knelt down carefully. “Hélène, will you be my wife?”

“I…” Hélène faltered slightly. “Mashenka, you know that we can’t be married… Not in this world.”

“I know, but even if our love and bonding is defined by this ring… It’s all I want and it’s enough for me.”

“And you would want to be bound to me forever?”

“In this life and the next… Yes.”

“Then, yes!”

Hélène wept as she threw her arms around Marya’s neck, falling on her knees beside Marya who fell back against the seat. Marya slid the ring onto Hélène’s finger then tipped her head upwards to kiss her lovingly. Fingers were intertwined, foreheads pressed together and the distance between them was rid of. They pulled away after a long, heated kiss, arms enveloping each other in a secured hold. Hélène combed her hands through Marya’s long locks of hair, peppering kisses along her face affectionately.

“I love you, Marya. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Kuragina.”

They remained on the floor throughout the length of the ride, contented to be seated on there as long as they were in each other’s arms. Even though Marya’s legs were getting numb, she did not mind it, just as long as Hélène was perfectly comfortable seated there. There they slept. Hélène’s head rested on Marya’s chest, her arms hanging loosely by Marya’s sides and Marya’s head rested atop of Hélène’s. They huddled up underneath Marya’s shawl for warmth as the carriage rode on to their destination where their new life laid ahead of them...

#the great comet #Natasha pierre & the great comet of 1812 #natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812 #the great comet of 1812 #helene kuragina #marya dmitryevna akhrosimova #marya dimitrievna #marya dmitryevna #marlene #maryalene #this has been in my ask box for so long and voila #runaway fic #nat.writes

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theres-no-protocol-for-this · 4 years

Text

Necessary Repairs

Part III. I don’t even know if you have to read any of the other parts. SecUnit should probably have slept through most of its own healing, but that’s not this machine’s luck.

Part I | Part II

At some indeterminate point later, I woke up.

I was receiving minimal sensory data, and none of it was sight-related. A diagnostic subroutine spun up and casually began sending me bursts of error messages I couldn't even begin to translate.

Oh, and the world was pitch black.

It took me more than five seconds to determine that the darkness was self-inflicted and open my eyes. Longer still for the random noise to resolve into sounds I could understand -- the hum of an air circulation system, at least two distinct voices, and an automated warning system. My connection to the feed stabilized, but the walls that normally guarded my mind against its onslaught were conspicuously absent.

Something else was shielding me, something big and surprisingly gentle.

Friend?

I could feel cold metal under my back and head, probably the medical suite platform. My internal temperature refused to rise, so I was shivering and couldn't stop. It felt like I was still leaking, and the pain ebbed and flowed with each passing moment.

“Would you like me to turn up the heat?” Transport asked.

Yes. Where the hell am I?

I felt a mild shock as the governor kicked in. It hadn't liked my tone, apparently, or the phrasing of my answer, and wasn't shy about letting me know. The standard code read, "you're outside of protocol and need to adjust your attitude."

Silently, I cursed the damn thing. I was getting used to life without it.

A moment later, Transport answered, "SecUnit, you're still in medical, and your performance rating, while stable, remains abysmally low."

The ship paused and sent me a couple of data packets that succinctly described all the things still wrong -- which was most of them. I should've probably remained in stasis, but the medical unit was calibrated for humans. So, it hadn't given me nearly enough sedative to knock out the organic parts of a construct for any appreciable amount of time.

I was awake, kind of.

"I'm waiting for your vital signs to improve," Transport added. "Until then, would you like to watch an episode of that one show you liked?"

Yes, please.

The ship's calm tone reassured me, even though everything else looked like shit. My diagnostics were coming back with nonsense, still. The governor couldn't find a SecSystem to connect with. The Traveler didn't have or need one of those; it had a skeleton HubSystem instead managed security, life support, and logistics. My inflexible governor couldn't figure out how to interface with it.

Surprise, surprise...

It fell back on some preprogrammed garbage, complete with a minimal set of actions and responses. "Yes, please" and "No, thank you" was probably the best I could manage at the moment without incurring its wrath. I'd try poking at it later when my performance no longer looked quite so dramatically sad.

Captain Owens pulled up a chair and sat down where she could see me. Transport shared the view from one of its cameras, so now I could see her, too. It also queued up an episode of a long-running serial and waited for the captain before it started playing. I wanted to ask about the hostiles but couldn't -- thanks governor -- and Transport didn't seem inclined to enlighten me.

I suppose it was only fair; it was doing its best to keep me calm.

MedSystem sorted out the sleeping issue in the meantime and had injected more sedatives into my resupply channel, so sleep was happening shortly, whether I liked it or not. I could practically feel my diagnostics slowing down to a crawl since they relied on data from my organic parts, which were affected by the drugs.

"Good afternoon, SecUnit. I'm glad to see you're awake." The captain nodded in my direction and then turned toward someone I couldn't see. "As I mentioned, thanks to SecUnit, we came out of the boarding attempt in one piece. I'm sorry to hear your ship wasn't as lucky."

A stranger in formal wear came into camera view as he approached Owens. I figured he was the owner of that second voice I hadn't been able to identify earlier. The logo on his tunic looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. Parts of my memory felt like tangled network cables.

"Indeed, but this is still better than nothing. I don't suppose you've already contacted your bonding company?"

The captain's face scrunched up in confusion. "We're insured outside of the Corporation Rim," she explained. "I've sent a message, but I'm here pretty much on my own."

Outside of the Rim, everything appeared to work in ways that were incompatible with corporation control. A lot of the propaganda around freehold planets implied they were a complete shitshow. Except, clearly, the Traveler was doing just fine.

I had a sudden burst of "bad feeling" in my organic neural tissue. Something about the newcomer didn't sit right with me. I thought it might be unwise for the captain to tell him anything about herself or her ship.

"No, thank you." It sounded like my voice, but I didn't remember speaking. Hi buffer, I thought I'd never see you again.

The newcomer gave me a puzzled glance. "So, where'd you get your unit then?"

Owens shrugged and schooled her expression. I'd seen that face before when she'd spoken to her daughter before our first jump. "I rented it from a friend, as a security consultant. It's doing a great job."

I was?

I mean, the human was alive, and the Traveler had an intact hull, so I guess things weren't terrible. I could practically hear the Transport laughing on a private channel. If I could roll my eyes, I probably would have, but the governor frowned on that sort of thing, and my eyes had closed minutes ago.

"I see. Well, if you wouldn't mind giving us a hand with repairs, we can both be on our way." The man watched the captain like a hawk. "I would also recommend getting your unit checked out at a licensed repair station when you get a chance. With this level of damage, there's no telling what other problems are hiding under the surface."

As far as statements go, it was polite enough, but I didn't like it. It sounded to me like a threat.

Performance rating dropping. Initiating emergency shutdown.

I really would prefer you didn't.

***

Memory fragment:

The mining installation doesn't inspire confidence. There are eight of us and two combat models. Ten security units should be enough to keep a workforce of 153 miners and a dozen more supervisors in line. Everything looks worn and rundown, including the humans.

Protocol dictates that we take shifts. A human has created a schedule to which we adhere. The two combat units are mixed in with the rest of us.

It's my patrol shift. I walk through one of the mining shafts and stop at the far end. I can hear a supervisor arguing with two of her employees—something about the rocks they've uncovered. I turn around, ready to head back to the primary installation, when one of the combat units walks up to the three humans.

It has been summoned by the supervisor.

The supervisor tells it to fire on the workers. It does, without question. Bodies crumple to the floor. Then, the supervisor notices me.

***

Transport popped into my feed. "Wake up, SecUnit. How're you feeling?"

"Like I got shot."

The words were out before I could consider the consequences, and I braced for an electric shock -- or worse. Nothing happened. Performance reliability was at 87% and rising steadily. My diagnostics routines had run several times, and the results looked promising. I was also no longer leaking, and most of my organic parts had grown back.

I had two arms again. That was nice.

Transport shared a smiling sigil. Reason unknown. "You did get shot, silly. MedSystem patched you up pretty well. If you're up to it, my captain and I could use your help." It paused and added, "Captain suggested that you might want payment in exchange for services rendered. That's how it works in CR, right?"

I had my doubts about anything actually working in the Corporation Rim. Still, arguing with a clearly sentient ship about theoretical economics didn't sound appealing. I'd rather get shocked again.

"OK," I said aloud and sat up. "Priority question: who was here earlier?"

"Dr. Alexander Soren is the current captain of an ArialHydra exploration vessel. They are stranded in this sector after a pirate attack. Captain Owens speculates that it may be the same group of pirates. We were lucky to have you on board."

Lucky. Right.

I shoved off the platform and crumpled to the floor in a pile of arms and legs. Hi there, limbs. A few minutes later, I managed to get up and stumble around under my own power. I admit to sitting on the floor and trying out my new arm. It didn't have a cannon -- MedSystem didn't have the required parts -- but it was fully functional, otherwise.

"I've seen Dr. Soren before." I couldn't remember where. That bothered me.

"Perhaps you were deployed on one of his survey missions?"

"I don't know."

One of the ship's drones floated into the room, carrying spare clothing, which it dropped directly on my head. I grabbed at the falling fabric and started getting dressed. It was the Traveler's standard-issue uniform, beige and blue and generally not hideous. I missed the protective qualities of armor, but it would've been weird to wander through the ship's pristine, carpeted halls with it on.

Captain Owens walked into the medical room and waved at me and the drone. "I see you're both here and scheming."

"We're not scheming, and technically, I'm everywhere," Transport informed us.

"I don't think you should trust Dr. Soren," I blurted out.

Owens narrowed her eyes. "Do you know anything you'd care to share?"

I shook my head. Constructs don't get gut feelings -- we don't even have a gut to have them with -- and my memories of any encounters with the doctor had been removed. Memory wipes aren't typical, but occasionally, a bonding company or a manufacturer/repair company decides they're necessary. I've had at least one that I know about. I also had no idea how to explain that my organic neurons probably remembered things the rest of me didn't.

"Well, in that case, has Trav told you what we need?" At my puzzled expression, the captain said, "We gave the other ship supplies, and they're almost ready to depart. And they're making a fuss about..." She sighed. "Something. I really don't care. They'll be coming back aboard in a few hours to discuss whatever it is. And I would feel much better if you were there. Just in case. And only if you're feeling up to it."

Protecting humans was literally the only thing I liked about my job. "OK."

"Great. Do you want a weapon?"

"Depends on how threatening you want me to look." Any weapon I wielded would be for show unless the human was in danger. And if she was, I had a miniature cannon hidden inside an arm.

The captain pondered this for a moment. Her face went through a range of expressions that Transport interpreted for me as "Captain Owens thinks the other ship's posturing is stupid and would like to be on her way, but it would be impolite to leave, so here we are." I agreed with the captain's assessment.

Finally, she said, "Let's try without any extra threats and see what happens. The quicker we get this over with, the better."

Transport suggested we spend the time between now and the upcoming meeting watching more of its favorite shows. I agreed.

#the murderbot diaries #SecUnit #let me sleep #into the unknown #fanfiction

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sierraraeck · 4 years

Text

Prison (Pt.2)

BAU x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Prison arc reimagined. Aundreya goes to visit Spencer and gives him some advice on how to survive in there. Story thirteen.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Mentions of drugs and homicide. Someone gets stabbed.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Just a reminder that this is all fiction and I don’t actually know anything about prisons.

Garcia visited him first.

Sure, she made the chart, but Derek, Aaron and Aundreya all agreed it was a good idea to have her visit first because there would be a lower likelihood that Reid would look disheveled or beaten up. They all knew she wouldn’t be able to handle that well, and for him, it would only make him feel worse to upset her.

Next was Hotch. He could help talk logical next steps. Then Derek because, well, Derek. They’d been super close since the beginning of time it seemed like, and he could try to get Reid to talk to him while helping him stay strong.

The prison buzzer went off and the line of prisoners were brought into the visiting room. Spencer immediately spotted Derek and relief filled his body. As he approached the booth, Derek stood up and surveyed him.

He had cuts below his eye, on his brow, and one even on his neck. He had bruises littering pretty much the rest of his face, the place between his temple and cheekbone swelling with a deep purple color. The marks on his throat were self-explanatory.

Spencer had never been much of the hugging type, but right now, all both men wanted to do was hug. All they needed to do was hug. But of course, now was the only time they couldn’t.

They both sat down and just looked at each other for a while before Derek started, “Kid-”

“I’m okay,” Spencer cut him off, but his voice was already shaky.

“We are making progress in our investigations. We all really miss having you around. Who’s supposed to give us all of the stats we need now?” Morgan said, attempting to lighten the mood.

Reid gave a soft smile at that, which was the best Morgan could hope for. “I guess you will just have to rely on Garcia to get you all that information.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“How is she, anyway?” Reid asked.

“She’s okay, actually. We are all having a bit of a tough time but we are all still keeping it together,” Derek answered.

“Good, good. What about everyone else?”

“Yeah, they’re managing. We all just really want you out, that’s all,” Derek attempted.

Reid gave him an incredulous look, “How are they really?”

Derek sighed. “JJ is worried, as we all knew she would be, Prentiss is deep breathing, but trying to keep herself all in the logistics of it. Rossi is helping everyone else, including Hotch who is just being Hotch. Level headed, linear thinking, determined Hotch,” Derek listed off. He would have mentioned Aundreya, except for the fact that she wasn’t exactly falling into the ‘somewhat-healthy-coping’ portion of the group, and he wanted to keep Spencer feeling positive without lying to him. But he knew the question was coming.

“And Chambers?” Reid asked, hesitant.

“She’s okay. Working hard but she’s doing fine,” Derek said, which was true if you were only looking at her from afar. She was composed, calm, and very determined to fix this. But no one was quite sure if she was sleeping or not. She seemed to be slowly withering away into a delirious state.

Of course, Spencer could read all of the context on Derek’s face and questioned, “Is that code for ‘she’s not doing well at all but is pretending like she is?’”

“Yeah,” Derek admitted. He couldn’t lie to Spencer, even if he wanted to, “How did Hotch put it that one time?”

“Struggling in silence,” Spencer answered. “Is she sleeping at all?”

The rest of them knew when to stop. They knew that at some point, after 24 hours awake had come and gone, they were so tired that continuing to work wouldn’t even be beneficial anymore.

Aundreya knew no such boundary. She worked until she passed out from exhaustion, and even then, set alarms to keep her awake. Everyone had tried everything in the book, but she wouldn’t have it. They all knew it was because she knew more than she was letting on, but they allowed her to chalk it up to ‘the message was left for me’ and no one argued. They say that love and fear are the two strongest emotions, both of which the entire team was using to fuel them, but she was running on an extra emotion. One that for her, was probably one of the most powerful. She was running on self-blame. Self-loathing. And once she went down that path, there was nothing and no one that could pull her back until the problem was solved and she could move past it herself.

“Not really,” Morgan tried to keep his answers as short and simple as possible.

“Tell her to take a moment and take care of herself. I’ll be fine for the few hours she sleeps,” Reid said.

“We’ve tried, but honestly, I don’t blame her. None of us are getting much sleep and for good reason. You’re not fine,” Derek said, and Spencer looked down, “And if I had the ability to go that long without sleep, just constantly trying to put things together to help you, I would.”

“I appreciate that,” he said shyly.

“So is there anyone in here you have made connections with? Anyone who can help you?” Derek asked. It was his main concern at the moment.

“Sort of, there’s this one gu-”

The buzzer went off again, signaling the end of their meeting. “Time’s up!”

“-we’re trying to look out for each other,” Spencer quickly finished.

“Okay, well just keep your head down. You are your first priority,” Morgan reminded him. He sounded like Aundreya, and it made Reid smile just a bit.

Spencer nodded and was shoved back in line and escorted out of the visitor room.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When Morgan returned to us from the visit, I could literally feel the worry radiating off of him. He headed straight for Hotch’s office, and I tagged along solely based on the intense eye contact he gave me as he walked by.

I shut the door behind us.

“It’s bad, Hotch,” Morgan stated, “It’s really bad.”

“What happened?” Hotch asked.

“He’s taken a hard one recently. Maybe two,” Derek said. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was about to choke up. “You should have seen him. I’ve never seen him look so … broken.”

“Let me talk to him,” I said. Hotch was resistant to the idea because I was well known among prisons and prisoners.

“I still don’t know, Chambers,” he said.

“I’m telling you, I can help,” I pleaded.

“We aren’t going to do anything outside of the law,” Hotch said sternly, lowering his voice. As much as I wanted to convince him that wasn’t where I wanted to go with this, I couldn’t, because he knew me better than that.

“You’re right. We are not going to do anything of the sort,” I emphasized.

He gave me a knowing look.

“Come on, Aaron. Right now, all I want to do is talk to him. He needs someone with inside knowledge helping him out.”

“Hotch, she’s right. He desperately needs that sort of help right now, and this is our best avenue,” Derek spoke up.

“Fine. Go. Keep us updated. Derek, grab the rest of the team and have them meet us in the briefing room, we have a new case,” Hotch said, nodding at both of us, “But I don’t want either of you sharing this new information about Reid to anyone else. We need them in their best state of mind if we are going to continue to get work done.”

We both nodded and raced out of the room. I quickly grabbed my stuff, barely turning to wave to the rest of the team before scampering into the elevator.

The drive over to the prison was agonizing, by far the longest 25 minutes of my life. Luckily, I had already prepared myself for when I would get to see him, so I had everything ready.

When I walked into the visitors room, he was waiting for me.

I almost allowed my focus to be completely consumed by him, but there were multiple other jobs I had to complete. I scanned the room and identified all of the guards. Some I recognized, others I didn’t. Then I examined the prisoners and came up with the same result, but it was good to pin-point possible allies and possible threats.

I walked over to my side of the table and he stood up to greet me. I leaned over and gave him a hug.

“No physical contact!” one of the guards hollard. Spencer’s figure was stiff but I gave him a squeeze before I freed him, not even bothering to look in the guard’s direction, let alone apologize like I’d seen so many others do. I knew the rules. But I also knew my rules.

We sat down and the first thing I thought was that Morgan was right.

He had taken a hard one recently, and based off of his slight grimace at my embrace, the evidence wasn’t only subjected to his face. I think the worst thing about it was seeing his eyes; they were dull, a gray sort of brown. Not anywhere near the usual shiny hazel or chocolate I admired on the daily.

“So who was it?” I asked after I finished my survey of him. I refused to ask how he was doing. We were both tired of that question, especially since we both already knew the answer.

“What?” It wasn’t the opening he was accustomed to.

“Who or whom was it that marked up that pretty face of yours?” I rephrased.

“Darrell and his group,” Reid answered.

“Ah, Darrell. Fairchild, right?”

“Yeah. Ironic last name,” Spencer commented.

“No kidding. Derek tells me that there aren’t a ton of friends in here?”

“No, not really. There’s one,” he informed.

“We’re gonna change that, eh?” I posed it as a question but if things went my way, it was soon to be a statement.

“How?”

“First thing’s first, I need you to drop the innocent act,” I said matter-of-factly.

“No. I can’t do that,” he defended. It was the reaction I’d expected.

“I know you don’t want to, and I know that it’s one of the only things keeping you sane in here, but if you are going to survive for as long as it takes us to clear your name, I need you to do it.”

He leaned in. “What are you suggesting?”

I met him halfway, his gaze on me intent, “Own it. Your charge right now is murder. That immediately puts you on a higher playing field than a lot of the rest of them. Own it. You don’t ever have to admit to killing anyone, maybe you shouldn’t, but you need to act like you did. Yes, try to stay under the radar, but when you walk, walk confidently. Shoulders back, chin up, as if someone just reminded you that your title is Doctor Genius Spencer Reid.”

He smiled slightly at that and I pointed it out. “Exactly. You get a bit cockier whenever you hear it, so keep that in mind. Other thing, you need-”

“Time’s up!” the same guard from before yelled.

Spencer looked regretful as he went to stand up. I reached over the divider and grabbed his forearm. “Sit down.”

His eyes got wide. “What?”

“No physical contact!”

I didn’t release my grip on him and just stared him down with an arched eyebrow.

His eyes rapidly flicked between me and the guard. At this point, the straggling prisoners were just loitering, preparing for a show.

“You need to get in line right now!” a different guard yelled as he approached us.

Spencer turned to go but I held his arm down firmer and snarled, “Sit. Down.”

To my surprise, it was enough to get him to slowly lower himself back into the chair.

“I swear to god Reid!” the guard ramped up. It’s never good when the guard already knows your name within the first few weeks. “Lady, I need you to remove your hand from him.”

I didn’t respond. All I did was cock my head to the side as if I was cracking my neck, exposing my beloved tattoos there. I then lifted my other hand up and set it down on the table, the weight of the bracelets and rings making for a satisfying ‘plop’.

I smiled up at the guard whose fiery feet were now frozen in their path. “We’d like a few more minutes.”

He gulped. “Uh, ma’am we can’t-”

“You know what my name is so use it. Also, you can, and you will. Thanks,” I hissed, flashing another toothy smile and narrowing my eyes. The prisoners in the back looked astonished and I winked at one of the ones I recognized.

“Sure thing, Aundreya,” the guard said with a nod, carefully retrating.

I turned back to Spencer, and it looked like somebody’d hit him on the side of the head with a pan. The level of confusion radiating off of him was almost amusing.

“What just-”

“Not now. We have more important things to discuss.”

“You have got to teach me that.”

“Teach you what?”

“How to act crazy and disturbed while also being in charge.”

I laughed. “Oh, Spencer, you already are crazy and disturbed. We all are. You just have to hone yours in, that’s all. And after the confidence boost you are about to receive from inmates and guards alike, you just have to feed off of it and walk around like you own the damn joint.”

He was looking at me with the most focus I’d seen in a while. “What else?”

“Take these,” I said, handing over half of my bracelets and both of my rings. The guards were eyeballing them like their life depended on it.

He observed them, then looked up at me.

“Put them on,” I instructed. He did as I said and I wanted to smile at how fitting they actually looked on him. “Anyone tries to touch you, show them these. They will either back off, or ask you a variety of questions. All you need to tell them is that you know me and you know me well. A handful of the prisoners already saw us talking and a lot more will know by the time we are done.”

“What else?” he repeated.

“I wanted you to get a tattoo of my ring, but I figured that wouldn’t exactly be the avenue you’d like to take so make sure that the bracelets are always in sight. Never take them off and don’t let anyone touch them. Other thing: they’re gonna draw a lot of attention, so you have to start acting confident and you have to do it now. If you are timid with them on, people will talk and wonder if they are fake or if you are ‘unworthy,’ so be smart about it.”

“What do I tell people if they ask how I know you?”

“You have two options. Tell them the truth…” I started.

“Or?” He was always fast at picking up on how things worked. And here, everything had to be a lie.

“Or you tell them that I was the one who caught you. That you were causing problems for me and were able to track down a lot of my connections and I didn’t like that, so I decided to hunt you down. It took me a while and a lot of my effort to get you. During that time we got infatuated with each other because we were so evenly matched and actually enjoyed the challenge the other offered, that’s why I still visit you. Tell them I want to break you out and initiate you into my ring. Tell them I have eyes on you at all times and will personally pay anyone who hurts you a visit.”

“What? I don’t think-”

“Do you trust me?” I interrupted.

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.

“Good. Then tell them that and they will leave you alone. I will be visiting you at least once a week, and will make sure to make a show of it every now and then. But if we are going to make this work, you have to utilize all of the information I just gave you. And please, for the love of Lucifer, own your crazy,” I leaned even closer to him and looked right through his eyes, enunciating each word carefully, “That is the only way this works.”

I pushed back out of my chair and he mirrored me. I placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed them back slightly. With my index finger I tilted his chin up. I hooked a hand behind his neck and brought him to me, whispering in his ear, “You’re going to get through this, Doctor.”

I released him and turned to walk toward the visitor exit. I peered over my shoulder at his gaze following me out. I gave him one strong nod before turning back around and leaving him with what I considered to be the best I could manage at the moment.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Seven weeks and two days.

That’s how long Spencer had been in prison for.

Five weeks and six days.

That’s how long Aundreya’s bracelets protected him.

He did exactly as she said. He started to own his crazy. He started acting like he wasn’t as innocent as he claimed and he did his best to act confident while also keeping his head down. And she was right. Anyone that approached him quickly identified the chains he was now sporting and left him alone. They did draw a lot of attention though, and when he gave the false backstory of them hunting each other, becoming infatuated, her eventually winning but wanting to break him out to join her ring, it was like he immediately gained respect. He never thought he’d be so thankful for jewelry and lying.

But it only worked for so long.

Some of the guys thought that because Aundreya would be so caught up working cases, and because she’d ‘gone soft’ helping the FBI out, they could get back at her by hurting him. Surely she would no longer have the guts or the freedom to come after them. Plus, if she really enjoyed this new life, this fresh start, she couldn’t be caught ‘paying them a visit’ knowing how that ended, now could she?

Four cell doors didn’t get locked that night.

Must’ve been a security malfunction or something. At least, that was the explanation given the next morning.

But knowing Spencer’s luck, he was one of the four cell doors that remained open. The other three? None other than Darrell Fairchild and his two bloodhounds.

The small blade could have been smuggled in. One of them could have been crafty enough to make it. However it got there didn’t really matter. What mattered, was that it hurt like a bitch.

Twice.

The blade easily penetrated through his flesh, was brought out just far enough so that Spencer could see his own blood dripping from the blade onto his shoes, then plunged right back in. The second time came with a twist and a forceful yank upwards.

The rough concrete floor stung his knee caps and sent a wave of pins and needles up his legs. He put his hands over his stomach and had a wave of deja vu wash over him.

He’d done this before. Unfortunately, this time there wasn’t someone ready and willing to help him.

He looked toward his still open cell door, realizing that any evidence of Darrell and his possy being there was already gone.

Reid croaked out for anyone to help him, but no one came. He yelled a little bit louder, hearing a faint echo off of the concrete down the hall, but still, no one was around. Half crawling, half dragging himself toward the hallway, he continued calling out for help. His eyes drooped shut, collapsing only halfway out of his cell before he was able to identify the footsteps coming his way. His last thought was one of pleading, hoping that it was someone, anyone, who would help him. He wasn’t ready to die.

Taglist (open)

@justanothetfangirl

@kris-stuff

@blameitonthenight21

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yuvon-writes-letters · 3 years

Note

To all,

In the few hours of planning, I have witnessed a letter appear in our shared mailbox, on a Tuesday.

For the record, I do not believe any of this nonsense, you could very easily be lying, both Yu, and whoever that “entity” is.

But Rai insists that it is all true, and despite his fragility, he always had this uncanny ability to tell when someone is spreading falsehoods or not, a knack for feeling if something is going wrong. The fact that he hasn’t quit sending these letters means that he wholeheartedly believes this, sci-fi narrative.

I trust him, so I’ll play along for now.

Trust me, this does not mean I trust you. For the time being, Rai will not be sending any letters, because he has apparently made himself a target, I cannot have that.

My name is. Actually, you don’t get to know my full name, it’s bad enough that you know my first anyways.

To, the entity, the letter that that was sent was matted in dirt, the words “I see you” were written in what is most likely blood, it was stuffed in an envelope along with the lily.

To Yu, Yuvon, thank you for being there for Rai these past few weeks, and fuck you, for making his life so much harder than it needs to be. He should be worried about portioning his time right to get more sleep, and doing his best to earn a living, not trying to keep a cursed pen-pal alive. Unfortunately, if what you do say is true, then I cannot blame you for his woes, you reached out, and like the hero he is, he takes the call for help.

I am currently in the process of reading the letters that were sent between you all, but, if you want to be in my good graces, a summary would help much more than hours of reading, I will not take kindly to secrets (Jake).

I will await a response.

Skie

Skie,

Most of the evidence I'd usually offer to assure people I'm not lying doesn't apply to you. It'll be a little more clear why when I get into the summary later, but I'm reeling a bit and I'm trying to take things one thing at a time.

Yeah. It's probably best if Rai at least isn't the first one to open these letters for a while. Please be careful too. I seriously don't know what this thing is capable of or what it wants, but it's very clearly violent. And entities (that's what we call these things, for lack of a better word) getting violent ends very, very poorly.

Best if we don't do full names, I agree. We've all sort of set a precedent where we use nicknames or screen names instead of our actual names.

(The ink turns dark enough that it seems to suck in the light around it.) My thanks for the description.

...Right. That just happened. I'm never going to get used to that.

You're welcome and I'm sorry. Truthfully, I've been pretty worried about Rai as well, and I sincerely apologize for any and all parts I played in Rai's problems.

Alright. Recap. This is gonna be long.

One day before I sent my first letter, I woke up in a clearing in a forest, with a note that told me that I could send letters to alternate universes with other people in the same situation I had left before arriving to the clearing on the ground in front of me. I marked the direction I was facing when I appeared and arbitrarily declared it "north". I did some exploring, and discovered that there was an invisible barrier all around the clearing, and that there were trees as far as the eye could see when I climbed a tree inside the barrier. After the first day, I sent my first letter.

Rai, though he went by Rainer then, was actually the first person to write to me, two days later. He was doubtful, obviously, but I shared specific details of the shared experiences that connect us across universes, and so did he, so we believed each other. We talked metaphysics and theories about what was going on for a bit, and Rai asked for details about my circumstances. I learned there were eight rooms off the central clearing, but five disturbed me so much that I lied and said that only three existed: a library (south), a game room (east), and a "comfy room" (west) with pillows and mattresses and blankets, etc.

Eventually, I realized there was an anomaly we've tentatively been calling the stasis over my version of the Duskwood group, where they went on with their lives but nothing actually changed. They didn't start to come to terms with emotional events that happened, they made no progress in their investigations, they didn't talk about anything important. Things were happening, but nothing HAPPENED, if that makes sense.

Rai encouraged me to tell one particular person from the Duskwood group I trust whole-heartedly, Jake, about my circumstances. That broke the stasis on him, and from then on, he and I started to work together.

We determined that the trees around my clearing are elder trees (symbolic of life/death/rebirth cycle) and completely generic trees. I theorized that I was stuck between a symbolic "death" and "rebirth", in a stasis of my own. I remain convinced of this theory.

On Father's Day, I spoke to the Duskwood group and lied to them in the process of cancelling an event I'd planned on that day for fear of giving myself away. Unbeknownst to me, that began to shake them out of their stasis slowly.

Someone named Liska contacted me then, informing me that they were sort of in an inverse situation as my own: They had normal contact with their friends and family outside of Duskwood, and they hadn't been kidnapped like I was, but Duskwood itself was almost completely frozen. There was some other weird stuff happening with the stasis, but that's not so relevant.

Lis started to get threatening calls from the perpetrator in the Duskwood case, worrying pretty much everyone, plus she didn't trust me, though I cleared the distrust up fairly quickly.

This is about when Rai started having issues, and warned us he wouldn't be able to write letters as often.

I sorta got stuck for a while, and Lis kept getting threatened. I figured out that someone would eventually join me in the clearing, but not who, how, or when, so I was obsessing over that. About then, Lis pointed out a small detail that showed I was lying about something, and that turned into a confession about the other five rooms. In brief:

North: A room with a countdown to when I can leave

Northwest: Another clearing where everything was dead with a silver goblet at the end, whole area gave off a magical sense of dread, I left without investigating further

Southeast: Altar w/ bloodstains, symbolism and text suggesting I could sacrifice my life to kill the ass terrorizing my version of the group (an alternate version of the asshole stalking Lis)

Northeast: Knife in the middle of a glade, can cut almost anything in here but the invisible barrier.

Southwest: 3 upside-down torches, one on each wall that wasn't an entrance, floor was a field of white lilies. Refused to enter initially due to overdose of symbols of death.

I discovered that my old family and my few non-Duskwood friends had all completely forgotten who I was. They still haven't remembered, but that's besides the point. I'm not just whining here, this becomes important later.

Anyhow, I started getting really worried about Rai, because he mentioned his head feeling fuzzy, he was having trouble understanding things, and his writing was disjointed. You probably know about when that was on the recent timeline.

Lis's next letter was concerning, and I asked in a cipher I won't disclose because at least one entity can't seem to understand it whether she was alright and offered a code for her to tell us if she was being watched.

Lis then sent two letters back to back: one where she used the code, and one when she wasn't being watched: she had been kidnapped by the stalker. We also made first contact with an entity we're calling "Goldie" or "Aur" (first few letters of their name) who is benevolent and has done their utmost to help Lis.

In addition, her Jake spoke to her over Tumblr, promising to help find her, and I got print-outs of the screenshots in an envelope. I contacted him as well, offering what advice I could, especially as we'd begun to theorize there was an entity working against Lis as well.

It wasn't enough. Lis was shot. And died.

And then her entity sent her back in time, alive, and with her Jake freed from the stasis much earlier.

As Lis started recovering mentally from that, I started messing on this plane again. Lis convinced me to test out the death symbol room and see if it was actually dangerous, so I first tried cutting my way out of the barrier with the knife (it failed) and then I started sorta using the Robin Crusoe method of testing the room for death, which meant I went very slowly.

During this, Rai finally admitted he hadn't been sleeping enough, and I tried to encourage him to actually fucking sleep and not worry so much about writing the damn letters.

Then

Okay, I'm not proud of this bit. Behind one of the torches in the room with the lilies and torches I'd been testing, there was a sheet of paper with a blood ritual on it. It promised an end result I'd like, and none of the other schmuck baits up to that point had actually hurt me, so I gave it a try. Imagine my shock when Jake appeared in the clearing. He's still here, by the way, we don't know how to get him back any more than me.

Rai brought up a theory (later confirmed) that the ritual brought Jake because he was what I most wanted to have with me right then. I began to work on trying to deconstruct the ritual and understand how it worked so I could confirm or deny, but was interrupted when I discovered that the Duskwood group had broken out of stasis, and I had to play damage control. They also became semi-aware the stasis had happened.

Lis sent another letter, and Jake came to the conclusion that her workplace is unsafe, and urged her to take a vacation, especially in the wake of further threats from the kidnapper. Also, Lis's stasis started to weaken, and she began passing messages between my version of Jake and her's. They proved to be surprisingly different.

At that point, someone named Jessy sent a letter in, who is one of the Duskwood crew. She was from a year in my future, shortly after her version of me, named Matt, was killed by the kidnapper and Jake was framed for it.

At this point, Jake raised the theory that Rai, Lis, Matt, myself, and all other counterparts across universes are somehow cursed, or gain more attention than we should from entities, and that's why so many horrible things happen to us. It... makes a lot of sense, honestly.

About here is when I started getting together a plan to get out. I was worried I might be mindread, though, so I went to slightly extreme measures to make sure my thoughts wouldn't give me away.

Then Jessy wrote again, and tried to convince Lis and I to run away from our respective Jakes out of concern. Along the way, she accidentally implied that her universe's Jake was being tortured in his incarceration, and I admittedly lashed out at her a bit in my response to her letter. It made me furious, obviously, and scared and upset, so I used those emotions to focus.

Lis grew concerned when I denied I had a plan. Repeatedly. And unconvincingly. Okay, it was more of a mantra. I sort of wrote "I have no plan" all over the paper and then didn't erase well enough, so you can see why she was concerned.

Now, I don't know everything that went down right there, but I'll take a guess. The entity, unable to interpret the ciphered messages I'd sent to Lis explaining why I was so insistent that I had no plan, asked Lis what my plan was, pretending to be benevolent like Goldie. Lis didn't believe it, and annoyed the entity in the process. It taunted her, claiming that Jake and I would be hurt because of her noncompliance, which was bullshit because the entity would've done what it did anyhow. Lis tried to send us warnings, but the entity blocked them and taunted her more publicly.

Unless it's essential, I'd rather not go into detail about what exactly happened when I tried to execute my plan. There's a letter that describes most of it somewhere in the past two weeks or more. Suffice it to say, I fell into a probably magic-induced coma for a few days, my face is still scarred to hell, and there's a small chunk missing from my right arm, though that's filling in because enhanced/faster healing here.

After the incident, while I was unconscious, everyone wrote in letters asking after me or offering advice, including Lis's Jake and Jessy, and Jake pretended to be me to keep the Duskwood group from suspecting anything. One of them figured it out, but she was sympathetic to both Jake and myself, so she kept the secret. In the meantime, Lis took a vacation and got out of danger, hopefully.

When I woke up, I was able to just... know a few minor facts about the entity. I still don't know how or why.

Anyway, I just sorta recovered and caught up for a bit.

Max contacted us to basically let us know that Lis was doing better (she was really torn up with guilt over the incident :( )

Very recently, Jessy contacted my parents, trying to determine if I was alright, and discovered that they didn't know who I was. That spawned a confession from me when I was confronted; that whole group is now in the know. Jake is still not entirely pleased with my decision, but I think he's mostly over it.

Then that new entity apparently sent out the letter, you contacted us for the first time, and now we’re back to the present moment.

Oh. One more thing that seems pretty important in hindsight. Rai sent me a crayon as an experiment. It arrived three different colors in one crayon: brown, green, and white. Take a wild guess what it was called.

Yep. White lily.

This is sort of reminding me of a character I made a million years ago, but the powers don't match up. It doesn't sound like the M.O. does either. Still, that character was a nasty piece of work. I hope it's all just a coincidence.

Anyhow. That's all for now. Talk to you later. Write to you later. Whatever.

—Yuvon

(The letter tucks itself in the paper clip with the others.)

#duskwood letter game #yuvon writes letters #duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #duskwood jessy #rai #skie #lis #lis's jake #lis's entity #jessy #the entity #lily #recap

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hawkbucks · 4 years

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16. the one where anything written on your skin appears on your soulmate's skin as well. I just imagine MIT tony falling asleep and rhodey drawing a dick on his face which also appears on Bucky aka the winter soldier one of the most deadly Assassins

This really got away from me. Somewhat angsty? Idk hgjfkdls I go from talking about a dick on Bucky’s face to… well, a certain date. It sorta ends happy.

The Asset stares blankly at the concrete wall in front of him, shoulders stiff and knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the steel slab they have the audacity to call a bed. He breathes in and out, in and out, long, deep lungfuls of air. The taste of ice still lingers on his tongue, and there’s a chill in his bones that aches.

His Handler circles around him, hands clasped behind their back as they relay the details of his mission. “Do you understand?” they ask, snappish, barely glancing at him out of the corners of their eyes. He isn’t important enough for direct eye contact; he’s learned that a long time ago.

Before he can respond, his Handler does a double-take, looking at him with widening eyes. “What,” they start, “in the fuck is that.”

He makes no noise as they hoist him up and drag him in front of a stained mirror, their clipped fingernails digging into the flesh of his right bicep. Right in the middle of his forehead is a rather… phallic looking symbol drawn in black marker. Still dazed, he looks confusedly at his Handler, unsure if this is some sort of test.

An irritated growl rips itself from his Handler’s throat before he finds himself being shoved back into his cryostasis chamber. Before he slips back into the darkness, he picks up bits and pieces of harshly spoken Russian. Something to do with a “soulmate”? Whatever it is, he’s sure that he won’t be woken up again until that problem is solved.

Thankfully, the next time he’s up to bat, there are no phallic symbols drawn anywhere on his body. In fact, nothing appears on his skin the entire time his Handler gives him information on another mission. He’s noticed, though, that the once-clean concrete wall is now stained with mottled red, greens, and blacks. The light in the back right of the room–which flickered the last time he was here–now seems to have been ripped out, if the copper wires dangling from its previously occupied hole in the ceiling is any indication.

He can’t help but to wonder if they remember what happened last time. Or maybe they do, and they’re just desperate. It’s not like he’s going to ask; that’s a quick way for him to get disciplined for speaking out of turn.

A manila folder is pressed into his hands. He understands what he has to do.

He sits on a rather uncomfortable plastic chair behind the counter in a convenience store. The actual cashier is conked out in the backroom, their name tag currently decorating the front of his shirt. A cheesy pop song blares from the radio sitting on a black table behind him, of which the audio quality is not the greatest.

There’s really nothing to be done as he waits for his target to come in, besides reading a battered pile of magazines sitting in a cardboard box by his feet. The top one doesn’t even seem socially acceptable to be read in public. He absentmindedly drums his fingers on the surface of the counter along with the beat of the song, reading the far away labels of Doritos bags and Red Bull cans. Out of all the places for his target to frequent…

As he studies a mole on the heel of his palm, blocky–yet elegant–writing starts to form across its surface.

Call Jan – need help for lab tmrw

His brows knit together, and he clenches and unclenches his fist, watching as the words roll and crinkle on his skin. If he sees what they write on their skin, could they see what he writes on his? Curiosity bubbles up in him like a volcano waiting to explode.

Biting his bottom lip, he reaches for a ballpoint pen sitting on the edge of the counter. He presses the cool tip against his wrist and writes. Hello. His letters are lopsided and decidedly ugly compared to the other’s, but at least it’s legible. He hopes.

Holy shit, is hastily scribbled below his greeting. All these years, and now you answer?

Yes. Sorry.

You should be! I’ve been sending you messages ever since I knew what a soulmate was, but you never wrote back! I just assumed I didn’t have one.

Something like guilt stirs at the bottom of his stomach, but his attention is drawn to that word: Soulmate?

For the next few minutes, no new words appear. He’s on the verge of giving up and scrubbing away the pen ink on his wrist before he gets a reply. You aren’t joking.

Why would I be?

I don’t know. To screw with me or something? Have you been living under a rock?

Kinda. That’s close enough to the truth.

Yeah, you must have been if you haven’t replied to my messages for the past 9 years. What’s your name?

He frowns. It changes. One day he’s Nicholai and the other he’s David. He’s been called Matthieu and he’s been called Sebastian. He doesn’t have a true, solid name. Then, one pops in his head. One that feels vaguely familiar, comforting in a way that he can’t put a finger on. James.

Cool. My best friend is named James, too. My name is Anthony, but you can call me Tony.

Hello, Tony.

Hi, James! A small smiley face appears next to the exclamation point.

The bell above the door rings, bringing him back to reality. He snaps his head up, recognizing his target’s face from the dossier. I have to go now, Tony, but I’ll talk to you soon.

He doesn’t get to see Tony’s reply before he throws the pen with devastating accuracy.

By the time he was finished dispatching his target, Tony’s messages have all disappeared. He feels a twinge of disappointment in his chest when he realizes that he never got to see what Tony said after he bid him farewell, and only God knows how long it’ll be before he’s taken back out.

He scrubs any and all traces of the ink off of his arm, not wanting his Handler to demand an explanation should they see even a faint mark. If he were to mention this soulmate of his… well, he has no doubt that what they would put him through would make him wish he never even picked up that pen.

Throwing the pen into the cardboard box from earlier, he makes his way out of the store with no more than a passing glance at the now bloodied floor.

The walls are stainless steel now, not concrete, and the lights are all a harsh white that wash the room in its fluorescence. His Handler is different–younger and crueler in the way the corners of their mouth turn up.

Instead of a folder, he’s handed some black device, molded perfectly to fit in his ear. They motion at him to put it on. With shaky hands, he does.

A voice booms in his ear, much too loud for how sensitive his senses are, but he manages to keep his face schooled. He grits his teeth, jaw clenching. His Handler looks him straight in the eye. “You keep this on you at all times, do you understand?” He realizes right then that it’s their voice that he’s hearing.

He nods stiffly, glaring up at them.

They grin, looking almost wolf-like. “Good.”

He stops by a convenience store like the one before to buy himself a couple of granola bars and energy drinks. If this mission is going to go the way he thinks it’s going to go, he’s going to be camping at that place for a while, and what his Handler packed for him can barely be considered food.

His Handler also doesn’t seem to keep that close of an eye on their wallet.

“I know you took some money,” they say, although they don’t sound that annoyed.

He rolls his eyes, picking up a small bag of chips. He can’t exactly reply, not without a microphone. As he walks to the checkout, a pack of pens catches his eye.

Without hesitation, adds it to his basket.

Hello, Tony, he writes over his pulsepoint, sitting in a tree next to a craggly, old street. Underneath him lies a motorcycle, covered up by the bushes. The night sky above him is a gradient of hazy blues and blacks, with the only light being provided by the flashlight he has pinned to the front of his vest.

Asshole, is all he gets back. You and I have a very different definition of “soon.”

I’m sorry.

It’s been 2 years, James. He sucks in a breath. 2 years? He’s sure that he’s been out for longer than that before, but when put it in the perspective of someone who doesn’t know who he is… Where have you been?

My job is very demanding. It’s not a lie, but it’s not the truth either.

What are you? The President of some foreign country?

No.

A spy? An assassin? A soldier?

I can’t tell you.

Great, that means you’re some sort of super secret government spy. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Can you at least tell me how old you are? I didn’t get to ask you that last time.

Using the bottom of the pen, he scratches at his temple. His age? Like his name, it fluctuates, but he settles on a number that feels right. 26.

Oh. You’re only 5 years older than me. Thank god, I thought you were like… 45.

5 years. So, Tony’s 21? I’m not.

Yeah, I know that now… so, how are you?

I’m bored. Waiting.

For what?

It’s for my job.

…Okay. I’m kind of waiting, too.

For what?

My parents. They’re out somewhere, and I wanted to surprise them.

We can talk. It’ll be less boring.

Tony draws another smiley face. Okay!

From their chat, he learns that Tony is wicked smart. He attended M.I.T, made a functioning robot, and obtained 2 master’s degrees before he was even able to drink. His best friend is in the Air Force, and he has this butler he loves like a father. He likes shrimp carbonara and refuses to touch green beans unless they’re shoved down his throat. Tony, he concludes, is utterly fascinating, and he makes that clear in all the sentences he writes back.

What about you? Tony writes after going on a paragraph-long rant about some movie series called Star Wars. (They both had to wait for some messages to disappear lest they start taking off their pants for more writing space.)

What do you mean?

Do you like Star Wars?

I’ve never watched it.

Tony’s next response takes up a good chunk of his arm: BLASPHEMY!

Can you give me your number? We need to arrange a meetup, and it gets exhausting to write.

His hand freezes. Number? I don’t have one.

A few seconds pass. Then: You can’t be serious, James.

I’m being serious.

Yeah. You’re the same guy who didn’t know what a soulmate was. I believe you.

Thank you.

You know what you can do? I’ll give you an address. You in New York?

Yes.

Good. What’s your last name?

God, he really wishes Tony would stop asking these kinds of questions. He settles on the first one that pops in his head. Barnes.

Okay. Go here–an address is scribbled across the crook of his elbow–say your name is James Barnes, and ask for Tony.

Tony what?

Tony Stark.

He drops his pen. Stark. There’s no way. Except that his Handler gave him all of the information on his target, including the fact that they have a son named Anthony, but he preferred to be called Tony. Anthony’s birth date matches up with his Tony’s age. Anthony went to M.I.T, too. Anthony reported having made contact with his soulmate 2 years ago, having previously thought he had none.

In the distance, he hears the purring of a car’s engine.

He switches off his flashlight and jumps down.

James, are you there? appears on his right palm as he smashes Howard Stark’s face in. You didn’t even say bye. Kinda rude.

He finds himself scrubbing away all evidence of conversation on his arm again, this time using boiling hot water and going until his skin is pink and raw.

Back in the base, his Handler grabs at his forearm, gripping him so tightly that the skin around their hand turns a pale white. “We know you’ve been writing to someone,” they whisper, low and dangerous. “Stop. Now.”

He nods.

My parents are dead, is scribbled over the middle of his right forearm. The glass in front of him fogs up with ice. If you’re there, I really need to talk to someone right now.

James?

Where are you?

I thought we were going to watch Star Wars together. I’ve asked, and no one’s said that you’ve visited, and I told everyone that you pretty much get priority. There are only two James Barnes that I know of: you and Captain America’s old war buddy. Were you named after him?

I liked talking to you. You can’t just pull another 2 years on me. First time I didn’t mind that much, because we didn’t really know each other, and I didn’t want to seem clingy, but I really like you, James.

It gets hard to ignore. There’s a tugging sensation in his gut every time he allows one of Tony’s messages to go unanswered. He manages to shake off the tail he has on his next mission. They must’ve assigned a more inexperienced person. Who knew they were accepting amateurs these days?

He swipes a pen from an office supply store. Hello, Tony.

You. It’s amazing how such a short word can hold so much bitterness.

I’m sorry.

What the fuck is up with you?

Has it been that long? Sure, the world seems far more technologically advanced than it did when he talked to Tony a 2nd time, but he figures it can’t be more than 8, 10 years.

It’s been 30 fucking years, James. Oh.

…I’m really sorry.

Don’t be. But he feels like he should be. Listen, I can’t write that much right now. I’m on my way to Afghanistan for a demonstration. We can try again later. Bye.

Bye. I’m sorry, again.

Sure.

TONY STARK: MISSING?

Three months later, and, for some reason, he’s still out in the field. Something his Handler–another new one–said about another target having cropped up during the tail end of his original mission.

Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the news.

Quickly, he dips into a store along the street and asks to use their bathroom. He fishes the very same pen he took from the supply store out of his jacket pocket. I have. Are you okay?

I’ve been better.

As long as–he’s cut off by Tony’s writing overlapping his own. Where are you?

In a bathroom, which is inside a store.

Smartass. Where’s the store? Give me the address.

Why?

I’m coming to see you. Right now.

What if I’m on the other side of the country?

I have a private jet… of sorts.

But by the time you arrive, I won’t be in that store anymore.

Just give me the goddamn address.

So he does. Meet me inside.

As he rifles through a rack of leather jackets that cost an obscene amount of money, he feels a tap on his shoulder.

He whirls around quickly, eyes flaring, before he comes face to face with the most expensive-looking man he’s ever seen. They don’t seem the type to be working with his, er, employers, and with that sling around their arm, he doubts they could do much damage to him. So, he relaxes. Just a little.

“Are you James?” they ask. “Please be James. I’ve asked at least 4 other guys already and they’ve all looked at me weird.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“It’s me. Tony.”

WOO, I ACTUALLY MADE THEM MEET AT THE END. I was actually going to end it right after Tony leaves for Afghanistan, but I decided to let them meet ‘cause y’all deserve that after the last fill.

Tony still doesn’t know James killed his parents. He doesn’t know James is the Winter Soldier. But I had to stop or else this really would’ve… turned into its own monster.

Thank you for reading!

#old posts #filled #anon

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theginger-patrick · 4 years

Text

ART 311 - May 11, 2020 The Heroes’ Journey

The Heroes’ Journey is an extremely prolific narrative structure that we see everywhere around is entertainment media. In one of my previous posts, I listed some of my favourite authors and their works which are particularly important to me because of their effective world-building and foreshadowing. Many of these authors’ bodies of work feature stories which are solidly set within the Heroes’ Journey structure, but there’s one story not listed there that I would like to focus on specifically. That would be Contact by Carl Sagan, my single favourite stand-alone novel. As it was first published in 1985 and a movie adaptation starring Jodie Foster and Matthew McConaughey being released in 1997, I shouldn’t have to worry about spoilers, but here’s a spoiler warning: SPOILERS BELOW!

The premise of Contact is relatively simple. It’s a story about an astrophysicist performing SETI (Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence) research at an radio-telescope array who receives what turns out to be a message from extraterrestrials, first contact, and the resultant reactions . As soon as most people hear that premise, they’ll assume that it’s either an apocalyptic armageddon style story, a science fiction horror story, or some sort of Star Trek First Contact style story where the aliens come to Earth and peacefully usher humanity into a new era. This story is none of the above. Instead, it’s a breathtakingly beautiful, moving, and awe-inspiring narrative supported by hard science fiction. Hard science fiction is science fiction which is soundly routed in factual science and mathematics. Anyone who comes to know me knows that I am hardly a religious or spiritual person, in fact I’m an outright atheist, however, this novel expresses in better form than I ever could in words the sense of the numinous which I feel when I see images like that of the Eagle Nebula’s Pillars of Creation (taken by the Hubble Telescope and released to the public in 2015), when I read papers on the research done at the LHC (CERN’s Large Hadron Collider in Europe), or when I read about advancements in technology and our understanding of the universe which can be used for the betterment of our species.

There are three acts to Contact much like any traditional Heroes’ Journey narrative: The Message, The Machine, and The Galaxy.

The Message:

Our protagonist, Eleanor “Ellie” Arroway, spends her early childhood being raised by supportive and loving parents, though her father Theodore “Ted” is the most influential on her life. He is her first mentor on her Heroes’ Journey, and helps to promote and develop her love of learning. From a young age Ellie is intensely inquisitive and devours new knowledge with a voracious appetite; she becomes particularly infatuated with the constant of π , known as “Pi”. This is of particular importance, so take note, and I would argue that this is Ellie’s call to adventure and is never refused or ignored. Unfortunately, while in sixth grade, her mentor and father Ted passes away to be replaced with her step-father John Staughton who is decidedly not supportive of Ellie’s non-feminine interests. Their acrimonious relationship is an important part to her characters development, though it was difficult for me to see it when I first read this novel as a teen.

The novel proceeds quickly through her middle and high school years, primarily using these years to highlight the sexism which was (and still is to a degree) wildly rampant in the STEM fields at the time. I viewed much of this to be further motivation for our hero to pursue her goals, though now with the added motivation of proving her step-father's opinion of her interests to be wrong. Her post-secondary education furthers her love and interest of science, gives her experiences in more social pursuits (*cough* sexual et cetera *cough*), and introduces her to ETI (just look at SETI and guess), and two mentors: two role models with one also being an antagonist of sorts. All of this concludes with her graduation and employment with SETI.

The first sign of extraterrestrial life is shown in the form Ellie discovering a repeating message of sequential prime numbers directed at Earth; this is not something that could randomly occur in nature. This is where the meat of the story begins; the crossing of the threshold. At first there’s skepticism among the scientific community, as there should be, but the message is received by unassociated and independent facilities. As the scientific community works through political channels to ensure redundant monitoring (this is set during the Cold War era) humanity is temporarily united in this realization that we’re not alone in the universe and a desire for further knowledge. This all culminates in the discovery of humanity’s first ever high-powered radio broadcast embedded in the message being returned to us, and industrial innovations and schematics needed to create a machine of unknown purpose embedded even deeper. Thus ends Act 1.

The Machine:

Tests, allies, and enemies are abundant in this part of the novel. Honestly, this is one of the most exciting parts of the entire story for me with all of the political machinations, discussions of about the new technology imparted to humanity by the extraterrestrials (nearly all of which are theoretically possible and grounded in real science), and discussions surrounding the philosophical implications and dilemmas of this new reality. I will glaze over most of it because otherwise this post would truly become a short novel in its own right.

The most important bits to take from this act (in my opinion) are the tests and enemies and approaching the inmost cave. The tests of Ellie’s dedication to following through with her life’s work in finding new funding and conquering adversity in the form of unnecessarily contrarian colleagues and critics, personal relationship, and physical and psychological recovery after a traumatic event. The enemies of this act are primarily the extremist religious and political groups which oppose the construction of The Machine and/or want to bring on the rapture, and . They ultimately destroy The Machine which is being built and funded by the government of the United States in a terrorist attack, and this appears to be the nail in the coffin of the project. The only way in which this is salvaged is through the efforts of an ally Ellie, who has a back-up machine in the works that was being used for “testing” components. The ordeal of this movie is undoubtedly the moment of activation of the machine, when the passengers and the world are witnessing the processes taking place from the opposing perspectives of the interior and exterior. The five passengers within the machine were confronting their fear of the absolute unknown considering this is a machine of foreign origin and technology never before used. Here ends Act 2.

(I am aware that this is Interstellar, not Contact. I just couldn’t find a GIF from Contact)

The Galaxy:

Approaching the inmost cave is what the story transitions into after The Machine activates as the passengers pass into the wormhole network which transports them to The Station. This would also likely cover the Reward (Seizing the Sword) phase. Throughout this sequence in the novel Ellie and the rest of the passengers are getting their first real reward to years of work and dedication with The Message and The Machine, but it’s obvious to the characters and audience that they’re currently in transit somewhere which has further implications on the story/mission. The trip to the station is an endless montage of breathtaking and mind-blowing scenes showing the depth and breadth of the capabilities of the extraterrestrials. Upon arrival, the passengers experience isolation and we later learn that the extraterrestrials were inspecting their memories. They used this data to put each passenger through a highly emotional and cathartic experience which was used to teach each passenger something about themselves of value. It is also when the most beautiful and numinous piece of information is given to Ellie when she asks the alien, who has appeared before her as her dead father Ted, how they experience when they create the numinous (she learned from the alien that the aliens are currently building a freaking galaxy, Cygnus A, using Sagittarius A which is the supermassive black hole in the center of our Galaxy, and is a massively powerful source of radio signals. Already a freaking numinous feat). It answers with Pi. Imagine how this would impact Ellie. Her "discovery” of Pi was one of the most formative experiences of Ellie’s early life. Specifically, the alien states that buried in Pi’s decimals is an encoded message. Imagine. Pi is a universal constant. It is something determined by physical and mathematical relations that just exist; you can’t “build” or “encode” Pi. The alien goes on to describe how they found this message in vague detail and directs Ellie on where to look.This entire combination of phases only concludes once the passengers have returned to Earth.

Their return could likely be classified as combination of the Roadblock phase. Upon their return to Earth, rather than Ellie and the other passengers having a triumphant and joyous return no time appears to have passed on Earth, despite them having spent hours if not days on The Station. They are questioned. There are Inquiries. Politicians and the public are furious that billions of dollars were “wasted” on something that apparently just spun up to a specific speed in place, then stopped. None of the instruments of human origin attached to The Machine recorded anything; there was no sense of movement, no great amount of time had passed just mere moments, no radiation, nothing. Eventually, all of the inquiries “determine” that it was all a big hoax perpetrated by some evil capitalist (the ally that Ellie secured funding and the backup machine from) in order to amass wealth and develop a monopoly on many of the associated technologies and emerging industries. The detection of The Message was all done via the coordination of desperate SETI scientists with this man and his satellites up in space to defraud the world. Fortunately none of the passengers are punished in any way, despite many of them having been scientists deeply involved with the discovery, decoding, and understand of The Message and the construction of The Machine.

The Return of the Elixir phase in this novel is both a phase to be celebrated and mourned. Ellie discovers that her father Ted wasn’t her biological father and that instead the man she thought was her step-father was her biological father. This is a loss of identity that she mourns deeply, but with the experience, perspective, and humility she has gained through this whole journey she is able to forgive her mother’s infidelity and come to terms with this bit of knowledge. She is also able to conduct research regarding Pi to help confirm her story regarding their journey in The Machine and discovers the message hidden in Pi’s decimals. A perfect circle. Ironic as hell and yet an absolutely beautiful impossibility thrown in by Carl Sagan that elicits a sense of the numinous in anyone I know who has read the novel. In closing, not only has Ellie’s Heroes’ Journey given her more wisdom and grace as a human, but also a powerful piece of knowledge that validates her entire experience and does the very thing scientists hunger for the most: she expanded humanity’s understand of the universe and of how much there is more to discover.

I know that that was one hell of a lot of word vomit on the blog, so if you read it all the way then thank you.

#Pi #Contact #Carl Sagan #Interstellar #science fiction #sci-fi #heroes' journey

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writingbymel · 5 years

Text

Syndicate - Part 3

Author’s Note: Thanks for all the lovely messages and comments so far! Sorry for the kinda slow start to this story there’s a lot of background information I need to set up for this haha! Enjoy! As always feel free to shoot me a message with feedback!

Date Posted: 11/05/2019

Summary: Klaus, Y/N, and Damon set off on a road trip to Mystic Falls. Damon has questions about Klaus’s and Y/N’s past.

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 2,500+

Parts: Part 1 - Part 2

SYNDICATE MASTERLIST

“So how did you guys meet?” Damon asks not taking his eyes off the road. Klaus shifts uncomfortably in the front seat. I sigh a bit not in the mood to take a trip down memory lane. I look out the window watching the trees pass by. Silence. “Alright forget I asked,” Damon responds. I feel Klaus’s eyes on me but I continue to look out the window refusing to make eye contact. It was so hard to see him again after all these years. After what I did to him.

“Y/N needed my help one day and I saved her,” Klaus begins. “I didn’t even know her at the time.”

“You and I both know that’s not the full story Klaus,” I say with my arms crossed. I hear him laugh a little.

“Well that’s how I know this is going to be a good story do tell Y/N,” Damon says.

“Klaus’s hybrids kidnapped me because they thought I was someone else,” I sigh.

“Alright Y/N,” my friend Sami states holding up two dresses. “Pink or blue?” She holds up both to herself looking in the mirror.

“You’d look good in either Sami,” I tell her. “Do I really have to go to this dance?”

“Come on Y/N,” Sami replies tossing the blue dress to the side. “Do it for me and the super cute guy who invited me to this. Plus it’s a masquerade ball you’re a sucker for those.”

“Knock knock!” I hear at the bedroom door. I open door to see Leo in a mask and a fitted purple suit. He removed his intricate mask. “Almost didn’t recognize me huh.”

“Sure Leo,” I say laughing.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet Y/N?” Leo asks. Sami throws on her pink dress which fit her like a glove. She looked like a real life princess with her blonde curls.

“Don’t you guys find it suspicious that this random family we don’t know invited the whole city to a party?” I ask rifling through the dresses that Sami laid out on the bed for me to choose from.

“Come on Y/N,” Leo says. “Don’t try to make an excuse not to party at one of the largest homes in New Orleans.”

“You never know Y/N you could meet the one,” Sami chimes in.

“Fine fine I’ll get ready,” I laugh feeling defeated. I knew there was no way to talk my way out of this. I grabbed a light cream dress off the bed and ran to the restroom to change. I walk back into the room, doing a little twirl. Leo and Sami start clapping and I roll my eyes at them. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Come on let’s drink to this joyous occasion! Y/N going out at night for the first time in months,” Leo hands me a drink and we all do a quick cheers before heading out for the night. I gulp the champagne. Boy was it strong.

After a short walk, we make our way to the huge house that I always walked past. I’ve always been curious what it looked like inside and now I was finally going to see. As we walk in we are met by a huge crowd of people talking and enjoying their time.

“Cute guy 5 o’clock,” Leo says in a sing-song voice. He quickly runs off towards that direction, but not before grabbing a drink off a table nearby.

“Typical Leo,” Sami and I say in unison. Before Sami can say anything else, a mysterious guy appears seemingly out of thin air.

“Sami you made it,” he exclaims.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world Kol,” Sami flirts. “This is my friend Y/N.” Kol extends his hand to me to shake it.

“Nice to meet you Y/N,” he says.

“You as well,” I reply with a smile. “Go have fun you two,” I shoo them away as they disappear into the crowd.

I sigh being left alone. I wander through the crowds of people attempting to find some sort of food. I look at the table of appetizers and I grab a small piece of what looked to be quiche. I take a bite and it was one of the best things I have ever tasted.

“There you are,” I hear a voice behind me. “Klaus will be so pleased.” I turn around to see a man whose eyes start to turn a bright yellow.

“Who are you?” I ask. He grabs me and covers my mouth before everything goes black.

Klaus’s POV

“I met this girl the other day, she’s absolutely stunning,” Kol continues to go on and on about some girl he met at the bar.

“Drink, brother?” I ask pouring myself a drink into my glass.

“No thank you,” Kol responded. I roll my eyes at him. He never did know how to let loose. “I invited her to the ball.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I ask turning around to face him. “You know what I’m planning tonight.”

“Don’t you worry older brother I won’t interfere with your plans,” Kol says. “I believe we should tend to our guests downstairs.” Kol gets up and walks downstairs. I set my drink down only to hear a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I respond.

“We’ve found her Klaus she just came in,” one of my hybrids tell me.

“Well you know what you have to do,” I tell him.

“Yes Klaus,” he says walking out the door. I follow suite shortly making my way to the festivities that were about to unfold.

Y/N’s POV

I slowly wake up to a room with a fire place and tons of antiques adorning the walls. I look down to my hands and noticed they were tied. Where was I? One second I was downstairs enjoying the appetizers, the next I was kidnapped. The man I recognized as the one who grabbed me came into the room.

“Klaus will be here soon,” he tells me.

“I’m sorry who?” I ask irritated.

“Don’t play dumb,” he continues. “There’s no way out of this.”

“Look I don’t know who you think you are, but I think you have the wrong girl,” I say angrily. He speeds over to me unnaturally grabbing my neck.

“I would shut my mouth if I were you little girl,” he growls.

“What the heck dude what are you? Besides crazy,” I ask.

“That’s quite enough Kyle,” I hear another voice at the door. “I told you I needed her alive didn’t I?” The guy quickly rushes out of the door only to be stopped by the man at the door. “Where do you think you’re going?” The man pushes Kyle back into the room and he lands on the ground roughly.

“You said you’d let me go Klaus once I found her,” Kyle says. “I found her now let me go.” Kyle attempts to get up again but Klaus pushed him against the wall.

“I’ll let you know when you can leave,” Klaus growls. Kyle sits down feeling defeated. I looked up at Klaus. Something about him made me feel nervous. More nervous than I have ever felt in my whole life. He slowly approaches me placing his hand under my chin to take a closer look at me. He lets go and slowly walks over to Kyle. “You’re free to go Kyle.” Kyle tries to rush out the door, but Klaus stops him pushing his hand into his chest and pulling his heart out. Kyle collapses to the ground.

“You’re dreaming Y/N,” I say. “You’re dreaming.” Klaus approaches me again with his bloodied hands. I flinch when he reaches out for me before untying the ropes around my wrists.

“Sorry…” Klaus trails off not sure what my name is.

“Y/N,” I finish.

“Yes, Sorry Y/N, I’m Klaus,” Klaus says. “There appears to have been a mix up love. Go downstairs and forget what you saw.” He stares deeply into my eyes.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “Are you crazy I just saw you murder a guy in front of me with no problem and you’re asking me to forget what I saw? You psychopath I’m gonna call the police.”

Klaus’s face is flooded with confusion, “You can’t be compelled?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask trying to leave the room. He rushes in front of me.

“I’m sorry I can’t let you back out there if you don’t promise me you won’t tell anyone,” Klaus pleads.

“How did you do that?” I ask referring to how fast he ran towards the door. Was everyone in this house just super athletic or something?

“Look that doesn’t matter,” Klaus says. “Please.” I feel his breath on my face which causes me to blush.

“Fine whatever,” I say. “Just let me go.”

“Promise Y/N,” he says. I sigh.

“I promise,” I say rushing down the stairs. I quickly scan the room for any sign of Leo or Sami. I needed to get out of this place as soon as possible. I see Sami slow dancing with Kol and I didn’t want to interrupt. I decided to just leave without them. They would understand. I made my way out into the dark of the night. I take a few steps.

“It’s not safe to be out in these parts alone at night,” I hear a voice behind me. Great first witnessing a murder and getting kidnapped. Now some creepy guy was following me.

“Just kill me and get it over with,” I groan. I turn around to see Klaus with a smirk on his face. “Don’t you have a party to host?”

“I’m not going to kill you love,” Klaus says with a smile. He takes a few steps to catch up with me. “I’m going to walk you home.”

“Why do I feel like I don’t have a choice?” I ask annoyed.

“You really don’t,” Klaus replies. “I’m glad you understand.” We both continue walking down the streets.

“Who did Kyle think I was?” I ask breaking the silence.

“That doesn’t matter Y/N,” Klaus says.

“It kind of does I was kidnapped,” I reply. Klaus stops in his tracks.

“Do you want to tell me why you can’t be compelled? You must know something surely?” Klaus asks. What was he talking about?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say honestly. He searches my body for something. “My eyes are up here.” Klaus sheepishly grins at the comment.

“Sorry I’m just looking for any sign of vervain on you,” Klaus says.

“Ver-what?” I ask. This guy was getting on my nerves now.

“Look, just thank you for not telling anyone,” Klaus replies.

“Again, you didn’t give me much choice,” I say. “And based on how you killed that guy I’m not taking any risks with you.”

“I’d never hurt you,” Klaus tells me. I scoff.

“You barely know me,” I respond. The rest of the walk Klaus and I walked in silence looking over at one another for no more than a second. Once I reached my doorstep I sighed, “Thank you for walking me.” I say kindly. He smiles widely.

“Anytime,” Klaus states. “And remember it isn’t safe around these parts at night.”

“Okay,” I respond searching my bag for my keys.

“Again sorry for the mixup,” Klaus says.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “Just don’t kill my family.”

Klaus laughs, “Goodnight Y/N.” Before I could respond he vanishes into the night. Once I made it back into my apartment I grabbed my laptop. I opened Google and typed in “Vervain” in the search bar. The next word that popped up next to it sent chills down my spine “Vampire.”

“Dang that’s one romantic story,” Damon says with a smirk.

“Shut up Damon,” Klaus and I say in unison. He catches my eye in the rearview mirror, but quickly look away.

“Well have no fear lovebirds we made it to Mystic Falls,” Damon says pulling up to a nice house. “Our first destination: The Gilbert House.” We all exit the car making our way to the front door. Damon gives a little knock. I see Elena open the door with a wide smile on her face giving Damon a hug.

“Oh my gosh you’re back,” Elena gushes. “I thought Klaus killed you or something for sure.”

“Right here Elena dear,” Klaus says. I laugh a little.

“Wait Y/N?” Elena asks. “It can’t be…”

“Elena what’s with all the commotion?” I see Bonnie appear behind Elena followed by Caroline. They both stop in their tracks when they recognize me. Before I knew it I was attacked in hugs.

“How are you here?” Caroline asks. “I thought you disappeared for good…” Caroline trails off before she gives a knowing look between me and Klaus. “Oh I see what helped you come out of the shadows.”

“It’s not like that Car—” I start.

“While this reunion is all fun and games,” Damon says. “There won’t be much celebrating when half the vampires in town are dead because of this hunter.”

We all file into Elena’s house.

“So this hunter is a girl,” Stefan explains. “She’s super strong, but she isn’t supernatural, not that we know of.”

“Do you guys have a name or anything to go off of?” I ask.

“No name, but we know she’s staying at a bed and breakfast in town,” Stefan responds.

“Well let’s go there then,” I say.

“We can’t just march up there, Y/N,” Klaus responds.

“Well do you have a better plan?” I ask.

“Actually I do,” Klaus states.

Three Hours Later

“I can’t believe you all convinced me to do this,” I say looking down at my costume posing as a mail carrier. Klaus attempts to stifle a laugh.

“Something funny Niklaus?” I ask earning a few “Oos” from the crowd.

“Look Y/N you are new to town,” Bonnie says. “She won’t recognize you or even suspect anything. This way you could get more information about her like a name or anything.”

“You all owe me big time,” I say. “I come back from hiding after centuries and this is how you guys repay me?”

I make my way up to the bed and breakfast and compel the front desk attendant to let me in. I look down at the piece of paper with the room number #342 scrawled on it. I quickly knock on the door holding my breath. I hope this hunter couldn’t smell the fact that I was a vampire. I hear the locks clicking behind the door. The girl opens the door slightly only to open it all the way.

“Sami?” I ask in shock seeing my old friend after years.

“Y/N?” she responds. “What are you doing here? What are you wearing?”

“I thought you died Sami,” I say. “You refused to complete the transition and you died.”

“You should come inside Y/N,” Sami says slowly opening the door for me. I hesitantly step inside the room nervous for my life.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus x reader #y/n

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