#thought hey maybe someone will actually acknowledge my existence but she fucking ignored me and went to next person like why the fuck
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you ever just see a post and just
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#Worst emoji combo ever but it’s gon be such big depression hours down here so scroll if you want im on the brink of throwing up#don’t you just bloody love it how over the past 3 years you’ve only seen people the large total of…. 4 times!!! An average of seeing someon#outside of school 1.3 times per year!! What a bloody fantastic way to spend your teenage years!#Don’t you also just love it when people talk right to you about how they all went out together over the weekend and like did some stupid#shit like your average high schooler would do and you’re just like “oh. I went to my 1 and a half hour long dance class and got ignored the#entire time and when you did try to talk they just spoke over you” oh my fucking god I hate that place so much even the teacher fucking#ignores me once we were going in a circle and she was asking everyone what they got for Christmas and I was in the middle of the circle so#thought hey maybe someone will actually acknowledge my existence but she fucking ignored me and went to next person like why the fuck#And now I’m debating staying in that shithole bc I was invited to a gc for that class and I stupidly thought that someone might want me#There. I wasn’t even invited I secretly scanned the qr code to join over someone else’s shoulder#everyone else there is the best of bloody friends and I’m just there talking to one friend who I don’t even think is my friend#“Hey man I’m really fucking sad rn can I talk to you” “womp womp have you heard stupid fact no.3848594 about my ocs while I ignore you when#you talk about anything else about me” oh my god shut up literally no one else sane would see someone like that their closest friend rn#At least someone wants to talk to me#Like what is it that makes people not want to see my please just tell me I’ll change I’m amazing at changing my personality to fit others#promise me on that I’ve done it my entire life#Even just messaging me more than once every year and I’d consider you my best friend this is how bad I’m getting#What is so bloody bad about me that no one else likes I don’t care how badly you fucking word it just something#It shouldn’t be normal to wish death on people you call your mates bc you heard about them all going out together without you#Oh dear did the gc’s without me in it there’s one for every friend group I’ve ever been in why isn’t there one for the main group I’m in rn#Idfc anymore just tell me what I’m doing wrong I keep asking people if they want to go out or how far away they live from some place#And it’s always met with ignoring me talking over me or immediately changing the subject#Please if you’re someone I know irl what the fuck am I doing fucking wrong I can’t fucking do this anymore be as mean as you like#Why the fuck does no one ever want to be around me why do I hear so much about stuff others are doing together but never me#It shouldn’t be normal to prefer being in a toxic relationship than what I’m in rn#I fucking hate everything
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Chapter 6
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5
“Oh would you look who decided to acknowledge I exist?”
Steve didn’t hold back his eye roll at Robin’s words since she couldn’t see him. He’d decided to call her on the walk to his car after work, just to update her on things and make sure she was okay if he wasn’t home right after work.
“We just saw each other yesterday.”
“More than 24 hours ago, Steve.”
“We are two separate humans, Robin.”
“But only one brain. Look at you separating a whole brain. This is why I couldn’t concentrate today. You took it with you.”
“Are you done?” Steve sighed. “If you’re done, I need to talk to my best friend.”
“What’s wrong?” Robin’s tone went from slightly annoyed to concerned, which meant she’d never actually been that annoyed to begin with.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be home late.”
Please don’t ask, please just accept it, don’t ask, don’t ask.
“Why?”
Fuck.
“Just stopping by Eddie’s for a bit.”
He was met with complete silence. He pulled his phone away to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped. It hadn’t.
“Robs?”
“Steve. I’m saying this because I love you.” Oh boy, here we go. “I’m worried.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. I’m just hanging out for a bit and then coming home.”
“You’ve practically lived with him since Saturday!”
“Okay, just because I slept over…”
“Twice! In a row!”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Uh huh. It doesn’t mean anything except you have barely been home and you literally went to subspace and dropped and probably subspace again with this stranger who did one nice tattoo and suddenly you’re ready to fly to Vegas and forget me!”
Ah. Steve let himself feel guilty for a moment before he remembered her insistence just a few weeks before that he needed to find other friends besides her, be social, maybe find a boyfriend.
Well, now he was doing some of that and she had a problem?
“I’m just enjoying my time with someone new. This is what you’ve wanted me to do forever, right?”
“Not like this!”
“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not following your rules for my friendships.”
“This isn’t a friendship, this is some weird sexual situation that’s gonna end up messy and you’re gonna end up hurt. It’ll be Nancy all over again.”
That hurt. Robin had been the one to get him through the Nancy heartbreak, always offering whatever support he needed while he worked through his disappointment that turned into an identity crisis that turned into a bit of a change of personality. She never judged him for his response to it. She was the perfect friend.
Having her throw it at him like this left a sour taste in his mouth and a hollowness in his chest.
She’d never spoken to him like this, not even when they got into stupid little arguments about cleaning the common areas of the apartment that sometimes escalated more than they should. This felt like she was jealous and taking it out on him.
Jealous of what though? She never seemed interested in having an actual relationship, and she was out all the time, leaving him to fend for himself in their apartment.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Steve.”
“Yeah, well. I appreciate the concern.”
Steve hung up. It wasn’t the mature thing to do, he knew that. But he was hurt, and he didn’t want to make things worse by letting the hurt out on her. He would talk to her when he got back home.
They were best friends, platonic soulmates. They’d get past this.
But for now, Steve turned his notifications off on his phone, got in his car, and drove to Eddie’s house.
– - – – – –
He made it inside with no issues, putting the key back under the mat once the front door was unlocked.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket once he was inside, ignoring the many texts from Robin to send a quick text to Eddie.
Made it home. Gonna make spaghetti. That okay?
He was looking around the kitchen to find all of the things he’d need when his phone started buzzing.
Eddie was calling.
“Hey, thought you’d be with the client.”
“I am, but it’s a friend. She’s taking a break. How was the rest of your day?”
Steve didn’t want him to know about his fight with Robin, not when most of it revolved around how quickly he was becoming attached to him.
“It was fine. Um, spaghetti’s okay? I just figured you probably had stuff for it.”
Eddie didn’t immediately respond, and Steve tried not to let himself worry.
“Spaghetti’s perfect. What happened, sunshine?”
How did he know? Steve was notorious for hiding his feelings from people, he’d been a champion for most of his life out of self-preservation.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” Steve was putting everything into being convincing.
Eddie was at work, he didn’t need to deal with Steve’s problems.
“Stevie, did something upset you? Do you need me to come home?”
God, of course he would offer to hurry back. He was so nice and Steve didn’t deserve it.
“Steve. I will leave right now and come back, just say the word.”
“No, no. I’m okay. Just had an argument with Robin. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry, sunshine. What will help?”
He didn’t know. He didn’t think he could really talk about it right now. He didn’t want Eddie to feel like he had to talk him through it when he was with a client.
He started to feel worse.
“I think maybe I should head back early tonight. Make sure I see her before she goes to bed.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be done here in an hour. You don’t have to cook anything, I’ll just grab us something on the way.”
“No. It’ll keep me busy. Can I cook please?”
He didn’t mean to sound so whiny, or practically beg, but it must have worked because Eddie gave in.
“If you really want to, you can cook. But I want you to go change into my clothes first, okay?”
Thank God Eddie couldn’t see the redness of his cheeks spreading down his neck.
“Okay. Can I wear your hoodie?”
He knew it would smell like him, and he knew it was soft, and he knew it would make him feel a million times better.
“Yeah, sweetheart. It’s on the bed. I’ll text you when I leave here, but call me if you need me before that.”
“I will.”
“Good boy. See you soon, sunshine.”
Steve felt warmer, lighter, more like he could handle the feelings Robin brought up. He knew if he could feel like this for a little bit, he could easily handle whatever conversation they’d have when he got home.
— — — — — —
Steve was so focused on the sauce he was making, he didn’t hear the front door open or footsteps come through the living room and into the kitchen or Eddie walking up behind him.
He felt strong arms wrap around his chest from behind, a soft kiss placed on his temple.
He leaned back against the warmth of Eddie, the calm he exuded taking over the whole kitchen.
“Welcome home, Eds.”
“Mm. Could get used to that,” Eddie said as he kissed Steve’s cheek, then his jaw, his neck.
Steve was doing his best to stay focused. He was cooking dinner, right.
He started to lean forward, but Eddie pulled him back again.
“Babe, I have to cook,” Steve giggled.
“Not done,” Eddie said against his neck, teeth barely scraping against Steve’s pulse point and causing him to let out a moan.
“I don’t.” Kiss. “Want this.” Kiss. “To.” Tongue.
Fuck.
“You keep cooking, sunshine. I’m just gonna enjoy my appetizer.”
“But I made garlic bread,” Steve pouted, pulling away as much as Eddie would let him. “For an appetizer.”
Eddie pulled away and looked at Steve, blinking at him as if he were confused.
Then he broke out in a huge smile.
“You’re trouble, sunshine.”
And to Steve, that sounded like he was saying something entirely different.
— — — — — — —
They didn’t talk about Robin.
Steve put their food on plates while Eddie grabbed some beers from the fridge.
It was very domestic. Comfortable. Nice.
Eddie insisted on sitting right next to Steve, one hand on his thigh for the entire dinner. His thumb was rubbing back and forth, his fingers sometimes drew designs on his knee, and he tapped rhythms into his skin until it felt like Steve was part of the song.
It was easy.
They talked about their days. Steve gave him the full play-by-play of his meeting with Will and Eddie kissed his cheek when he was done and told him how happy he was that Will liked it.
Eddie told him about his appointment, Chrissy, who he’d been good friends with since high school. He’d shown her that tattooing was a way to love her body when she’d been diagnosed with an eating disorder. He promised her he’d do any tattoo she wanted for free if she went through the intensive rehab and therapy process, and four months later, she came by his shop and became his favorite client on top of one of his best friends.
Steve leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he spoke, smiling to himself as he realized that Eddie was just a caring person.
He cared about everyone in his life in a way that Steve had not been familiar with before Robin.
He cared the way Steve cared, and he made Steve want to show it more.
He made Steve want to be bright in a way he’d never wanted to be before.
Eddie made him feel like he could shine.
He felt the impending rain cloud of leaving his side, though. Facing Robin would be a storm he didn’t want to weather tonight, feeling a bit overwhelmed already from his day of emotions.
It had started so good. It felt good right now.
“You got quiet on me, sunshine. What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”
A lot. So much. He didn’t know how to answer without putting everything on the table, and he knew he couldn’t do that right now. He didn’t want to cry either and that was getting more likely the more tired he got.
“Just thinking.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Anywhere you want is fine with me, sweetheart.”
Steve could tell him a little. Maybe talk about how much he wanted to stay by Eddie’s side. Or how he didn’t know how he was already so attached, but the thought of not having Eddie around was already devastating.
How much he could love him if he was given the chance.
“I’m scared that Robin’s right.”
Well, that’ll spark a conversation he didn’t want to have.
Nice job, idiot. You’re gonna end up spilling your secrets.
“Right about what?”
Eddie’s arm was now wrapped around Steve’s shoulder, hand resting against his arm where his fingers were tracing designs that Steve would tattoo on his skin.
“She said this is gonna end bad. I’ll get hurt. She didn’t want me to come tonight.”
Yeah, that’s not giving too much away.
Eddie’s fingers froze against his arm.
“She thinks I’d hurt you?”
“I guess.”
And a part of Steve believed it too. That was part of why he felt so shitty. Eddie already held the power to hurt him and he didn’t even realize it.
“Stevie, look at me for a minute.”
Steve pulled away, letting Eddie’s arm fall, but quickly finding his hand to lace their fingers together for extra comfort.
“I know this is gonna sound crazy, and it’s okay if you don’t wanna stick around after, but,” Eddie’s eyes were shining. Was he going to cry? “I’ve never felt like this with anyone. I’ve never wanted to spend every moment with someone before you. I missed you so much today, it was like I was being torn in half. I know it’s crazy. I know. But you’re important to me. I don’t know what will happen, I don’t know what you want, I just know that I wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you.”
Steve could feel his lip quivering. He knew he had tears in his eyes.
He was in deep and the only way out was through.
“I don’t know how to explain how much being around you has changed me. Just in the last two days I’ve felt like someone I didn’t even know I could be. Robin’s worried because,” Steve took a deep, steadying breath. He had to be honest. Eddie deserved it. “I jump into things quickly. I’ve always been like that. I commit hard and fast and I end up hurt every time. She was around for the worst one with my ex-girlfriend. She’s worried this will be like that and thinks you’re just using me for the sexual aspect of it. Well, she thinks we’re using each other, I think. And maybe if you were different, I would be. I’m not always a great guy. But it’s just that you’re you. You’re the kind of person who will always get the best me because you deserve someone who makes you feel the way you make other people feel.”
The words just didn’t stop coming.
Steve would’ve been more nervous about it if he wasn’t watching the fondness seep out of Eddie’s pores.
His every movement revolved around Steve’s own, his touches gentle and electric.
His hand was cupping the side of Steve’s neck, his eyes staring into Steve’s soul, even though he’d just laid it out on the table in front of them.
“You deserve to be the best you because it makes you feel good. But if I can help you find that, then I’m all yours, sunshine. As long as you want me.”
Steve leaned forward, resting his forehead against Eddie’s.
He closed his eyes.
His phone started ringing.
He planned to ignore it. He knew it was Robin and he wasn’t quite ready to face her yet.
But he knew if he didn’t answer, she’d worry. Maybe dramatically call 911 to do a wellness check.
He didn’t want to put Eddie through all that.
He grabbed his phone and answered, letting his head rest against Eddie’s chest.
“Yeah?”
“Steve. Listen. I’m sorry about earlier, okay? I didn’t mean that. I’m just worried about you. I want you to have someone who makes you happy, but I want you to be safe and-“
“Robs, I know. I’m sorry I freaked out.”
Eddie’s hands were moving up and down his back slowly, adding pressure to his shoulders where he was most tense.
“Are you gonna be home soon?”
Steve resisted saying that he was home.
He realized he’d said it twice to Eddie; This felt like home. He’d never really had somewhere that felt like home. Even with Robin, he knew they were roommates because neither of them could afford rent on their own.
But here, he felt like he could safely recharge, relax, be himself, float away and find his way back. And he could do it all with Eddie.
“Yeah. I’ll head out soon.”
Robin was silent as Eddie started playing with the hem of Steve’s shirt.
“You could just stay. If you wanted. I mean I have your location and you’ll text me in the morning so I know you’re alive.”
Steve considered that this might be a test, that Robin was seeing if he’d give in easily and not explain anything else.
But Robin isn’t the type of friend to test him like that. She was never anything but honest and straightforward, never would expect him to make a choice like that to win her love. That’s just not who she was.
“I could stay tonight.”
Steve looked up at Eddie, who was smiling and nodding down at him, hands never stopping their comforting movements on his back.
“I’m gonna stay tonight.” Steve smiled into the phone as if Robin was able to see. “But tomorrow, I’m coming home after work and we’re having a long talk. We’re gonna order pizza and we’re gonna drink enough cheap wine to have the worst hangover ever on Wednesday morning. Okay?”
Robin let out a quiet chuckle. Good. Laughter is good.
“Okay, dingus. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You got it, Robs.”
When Steve hung up the phone, Eddie pulled him tight against his chest, letting Steve find his place with his nose against his collarbone.
He breathed in his scent, smiling to himself at how quickly he relaxed into it.
“Sounds like things went well.”
“Mhm. Things’ll be good.”
Eddie kissed the top of his head.
“Let me clean up the dishes and then we can go to bed.”
“No, wanna stay here.”
“Here, in this chair?” Eddie snorted. “I don’t think either of us actually want that, sunshine.”
“Don’t wanna move.”
“How about I carry you?”
“Yes, please.”
For some reason, Steve didn’t exactly expect him to actually lift him in his arms and carry him. But he did.
He had him in his arms like he was a new bride being carried over the threshold, and Steve was blushing from his head to his toes.
Steve looked up at his face, taking in the way Eddie had a near-constant smirk when he was doing things like this. Like he was having fun and liked doing it.
Eddie dropped him in bed, laughing at the ‘oof’ Steve let out from the impact of hitting the mattress and pillows.
He stared down at Steve with that soft look he gave him before. Like Steve was actually making his life brighter, like it was a beautiful thing to have and know Steve.
No one has ever looked at him like that.
“Stevie.”
“Hm?”
“I really want to kiss you.”
Steve gulped.
“I really want you to kiss me.”
Eddie didn’t question it or wait, and his wet lips were against his with a passion Steve had never experienced in his life.
He forgot about everything except the way Eddie’s lips fit perfectly against his, slowly opening his own up so he could lick into his mouth.
He ran his tongue along Steve’s bottom lip, smiling into the kiss when Steve let out a loud moan.
Eddie’s hand was in his hair, tugging on the ends just enough to keep Steve present as his other hand ghosted down his side and squeezed his hip.
Steve could stay just like this forever and it wouldn’t be long enough.
He’d never have enough of Eddie touching him, kissing him, caring for him.
He wanted it always.
He let out another moan when Eddie’s teeth bit down on his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth and lips like he was trying to eat him.
Steve would let him.
But just when he thought he was going to stay like this all night, Eddie pulled away, nipping at his bottom lip one more time before he separated from him completely and stood up.
“Gonna go clean up. Be a good boy for me and stay right here. No touching yourself.”
Steve hadn’t really thought about doing so until he watched Eddie walk away and glanced down to see that he was hard. Incredibly so.
Suddenly, his only focus was on getting relief from how hard he was. How had he gotten there from a kiss?
It was like every touch from Eddie was equal to 1000 touches from anyone else. If Eddie touched his cock, he was done for. He’d embarrass himself beyond belief.
Maybe if Steve didn’t think about it, it would go away and it’d be fine.
Maybe he could just give himself a little touch. Eddie wouldn’t know. It’s not like he was watching.
But Eddie said not to.
Steve had to listen to Eddie.
He could distantly hear Eddie washing dishes in the kitchen, dishes clanking around while the water ran from the faucet.
He could feel the heat of the sweatpants and hoodie he was wearing, causing him to break out in a sweat.
Eddie didn’t say he couldn’t take his clothes off. He just said he couldn’t touch himself.
So Steve removed the hoodie and sweatpants in record time, unable to focus on anything except the cool sheets under him and the hard length nearly poking out of his boxers.
He hoped Eddie would touch him when he got back. He couldn’t sleep like this.
Too on edge, too close to falling the wrong way off the cliff.
He didn’t even register when Eddie entered the room again, his thoughts stuck on how good it would feel to have Eddie’s hands on him again.
Then Eddie’s hands were on him again. They were cupping his cheeks and forcing him to make eye contact with him.
Eddie was shirtless already, straddling his lap.
Steve didn’t care how he got there, just that he was.
He couldn’t help the whine he let out when Eddie’s cock brushed against his.
Oh, he wasn’t wearing pants either.
Steve hoped this was going where he wanted it to.
“You look so beautiful like this, sweet thing. Like I could eat you right up,” Eddie said before leaning in to leave a trail of kisses down his neck.
He paused right where Steve knew his freckles were and let out a small laugh against his skin.
“These are the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”
Steve whined. He needed Eddie to kiss them, kiss him, kiss anywhere. He needed his lips on him every second of every day.
As if he could read his mind, Eddie gently kissed his freckles. Steve could feel his smile against his skin.
“Please kiss me,” he let out, needy whimper following his words.
“Am kissing you, sweet thing.”
And he was. Technically. But Steve needed to taste him again, needed their mouths connected so he could feel his breath in his own lungs, taking and giving oxygen Steve so desperately wanted to give and receive.
“Need you, please,” Steve added, as if that would make Eddie do anything else. “Please, please.”
Begging was not what he thought would happen tonight, but his mouth no longer had a filter as he felt Eddie’s hips roll against him.
The friction was almost too much.
Steve was going to cum. Right there in his boxers after barely making out and like, two barely there touches against his cock.
“Love hearing you beg,” Eddie said as he trailed his lips and tongue and teeth down Steve’s chest. He licked at one of his nipples, blowing cold air on it after. Steve shivered, but not from the cold.
“Feels so good,” Steve managed to get out.
He could tell he was becoming more incoherent, his moans getting louder despite Eddie hardly doing anything at all to him. He’d be embarrassed if he didn’t know how hard Eddie was above him.
Suddenly, Eddie’s lips were back on his own. He sighed into it, relief at being given what he wanted letting him relax further into the bed.
The relief only lasted for a moment, though.
Eddie was pulling away and laying down next to Steve.
No.
“No,” Steve said, turning his head to pout at him. “More.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows at him.
“That doesn’t sound very polite, Stevie. I can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask nicely,” Eddie sounded bored. Was he bored?
No, he wouldn’t have gone from interest to bored that quickly. Would he?
“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You listening?”
“Mhm.”
“Good boy. You’re gonna get on my lap and you’re gonna get yourself off. No hands.” Steve was already moving, but Eddie put his hand on his chest to hold him still. “No boxers. You use your safe word if it gets too much.”
Steve didn’t know how this could be too much, but he was too far gone to do anything but agree.
“Okay.”
Eddie removed his hand and didn’t stop Steve this time when he got up and straddled Eddie’s thighs, the reverse position they’d been in before giving Steve a head rush. He helped push Steve’s boxers off, holding him steady when his legs nearly gave out when he kicked them off.
Eddie didn’t touch him at first, letting Steve find the position that worked best for him and watching as he tried to find the perfect level of contact.
He couldn’t though.
“Oh, sweet thing, you can’t get it right can you?”
Steve whined and shook his head, feeling tears of frustration building behind his eyes.
“You want me to help you?”
“Please, yes, help,” Steve got out between pants.
Eddie’s hands were on his hips, warmth spreading from the place they touched Steve’s skin throughout his body. His grip was strong, nearly leaving fingerprint bruises in his skin. Steve wished he would.
“More.”
“More what?”
“Fingers. Harder.”
Finding the right words was hard. Steve was doing all he could to keep his eyes locked on Eddie’s face, vision going a bit blurry from the cloudiness in his head.
Eddie understood though.
His fingers gripped harder, and Steve knew he’d be done for soon regardless of the friction on his cock.
“You want help getting started, sweet thing?”
“Mhm. Mmm,” Steve was incoherent. He knew it, but he couldn’t do anything but let Eddie have full control.
Eddie used his strong grip to move Steve’s hips back and forth a few times, the feeling of Steve’s bare cock against Eddie’s clothed one nearly enough to send him over the edge right away.
He was moaning uncontrollably.
“I’m not doing it all for you,” Eddie said, letting go of Steve’s hips and watching as Steve stuttered in his movements. “C’mon. You were so desperate for it before.”
Steve didn’t think about how he was naked and Eddie wasn’t, how his dripping cock was getting Eddie’s boxers messy, how Eddie was smirking at him as he struggled to keep up the pace Eddie had started.
He only thought about how he had to get relief and make Eddie proud of him for doing what he asked.
Steve’s hips moved back and forth, rolling down every time he pushed forward so he could feel Eddie’s length against his own.
It was too much and not enough and Steve didn’t know how long he could keep this up.
Eddie was watching him, talking him through it, but not touching him.
“That’s it, sweet thing. Doing so good for me,” Eddie let out a moan when he started moving faster. “That’s it, sweetheart. Making me feel so fucking good.”
Steve wasn’t even registering his own pleasure anymore, only able to hear the way Eddie’s words were getting breathier, moans louder.
“Gonna cum for me? Want you to make me messy, sunshine. C’mon,” Eddie started tilting his hips up to meet Steve every time he rolled his hips down.
It was so much.
There was nothing but Eddie. His voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket as Steve felt the pull in his stomach letting him know he was close.
“Mm, Eddie, Eddie-“ Steve was babbling and he couldn’t stop. He didn’t care. He didn’t think Eddie did either. “Gonna. Gonna be good.”
Eddie let out a loud moan and sat up enough to kiss Steve’s lips.
Steve was done for.
He came so hard he almost couldn’t even feel it, the pleasure making his vision go black and his body go numb.
He could feel Eddie rut against him a few more times before he let out a groan.
He couldn’t open his eyes to see, but he knew Eddie must’ve finished too.
“So good, sunshine. Did so good for me, can’t believe I’m so lucky,” Eddie was whispering into his ear, soft breaths making Steve shiver against him.
Steve felt Eddie moving him so he was laying down in bed.
Then cold air shocked him into opening his eyes and letting out a pained whimper.
“Shhh, sweet thing. Just grabbing a washcloth. Gotta clean you up and take care of you, yeah? You did so good for me,” Eddie said as he pecked a kiss to his forehead.
Steve wasn’t quite floating now, but he recognized that he’d been on the cusp of it before Eddie walked away. He still wasn’t aware of most of what was going on, just that he’d never felt so good in his life and he hadn’t even had hands on him.
Whatever Eddie had done to take Steve apart was incredible.
When Eddie came back with the washcloth and gently wiped his stomach and chest, Steve tried to speak.
“Love that,” was all he was capable of, but it was a start. Eddie would get the gist of it.
“I’m glad. Loved doing that with you,” Eddie said softly as he got into bed next to Steve. He immediately pulled Steve on top of him, and Steve nearly gasped at Eddie being naked under him. “Feeling okay?”
Steve nodded against his chest.
He’d never felt better.
As he drifted to sleep to Eddie’s soft whispers, Steve thought about how he could possibly love someone so much so quickly.
Chapter 7
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#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#grumpy sunshine trope#tattoo artist eddie munson#guidance counselor steve harrington#dom eddie munson#sub steve harrington#ao3fic#myfic#chapter 6
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ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ || ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄᴡʜʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Isaacwhy x f!reader
Warnings: all fictional not how I think Isaac would actually act ! language, break up, happy ending <3
summary: Y/n and Isaac break up :0
requested?: no !
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Y/n muttered under her breath, ready to up and leave.
She stood up, standing in front of Isaac, her neck craning to meet his eyes.
Her eyes pleaded for Isaac to look up and meet them, and for him to understand.
Y/n hated herself for reacting as she was; she hated being human and having sensitive moments. Though she could not stop it.
He finally met eyes with his girlfriend, a flash of regret washed over his face, but only for a split second, "I’m sorry."
There was pity in Isaac’s eyes and she didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to look at the man that had turned her world upside down. Those eyes once held a breathtaking adoration and now they merely gazed at her as though they had never met.
It had happened so fast- yet she couldn’t say she didn’t see it coming. Not with his youtube career and being so taxing with all the attention coming in.
He was a different person to her- he was a person she did not like. His YouTube persona seemed to have leaked into his real self and he became cocky. Unaware of his girlfriends feelings.
Even when him and the boys decided to move into each other he didn’t take her into consideration- in fact he didn’t even consider to tell her until the move was already being made.
She felt like he was choosing his career over her. She’d been pushed aside.
"Fuck you, Isaac." She held back a sob, willing herself not to cry
--
The following weeks and even months Isaac was his usual self while Y/n spent most of her time avoiding him.
It was hard to avoid someone when you lived in the same house, however.
One day Y/n was in the over, grabbing a quick snack before she started to stream, when the guys had gotten back home from the gym - including Isaac
Y/n crossed her arms as Isaac peered over the shoulders of Nick to peek at her, striding into the kitchen
"hey, what's up." His eyes wandered her for a quick second before turning to the opened fridge, a smile on his face the whole time.
"I should get going, see you later, guys." She cleared her throat, collecting her things and exiting the room.
—
Y/n had not even acknowledged his existence; he could tell she was actively ignoring him, yet that didn't stop him from acting as if he had no clue as to why she would be angry with him whenever they crossed paths. Every time he would enter a room, she would abruptly leave-- it made encounters in the house awkward. He could tell she was staring him down; eyes narrowed with annoyance, yet every time he would look at her, she averted her gaze and acted as if she wasn’t watching him.
Did it hurt? Maybe, but he wasn’t about to let her know that it was getting to him.
She knew deep down that she shouldn’t be upset about his abrasiveness. He didn’t owe her anything; they hadn’t even spoken since their breakup.
He knew she wanted nothing to do with her, but he didn't want to accept it.
Eventually, Isaac got sick of her leaving every time he so as much as breathed near her, chasing her out of the living room and up the stairs, "Come back, babe."
She cringed at his nonchalant tone, shaking her head, quickly picking up her pace and pretending she hadn’t heard anything.
This kept up until she reached her roome, only to finally turn around to face the boy, a look of relief washed over him before his usual camera ready look came back and grabbing her wrist.
"Do not fucking touch me!" She shoved him and watched as he stumbled back
"I thought I could trust you, Isaac. You looked me in my fucking eyes and basically told me to go fuck myself." She exhaled, blinking back tears and avoiding eye contact with him.
With a shit eating grin he composed himself, "I miss you."
"keep up this fucking act and I'll never speak to you again." She was agitated by his little act, no one was around - no cameras were on, She wasn’t one of the boys- so he had no reason to keep it up.
"I wanna get back together." For a second Y/n thought she heard his act break, genuine regret for betraying her.
"Tell me you love me." She felt her throat run dry, lip quivering as she looked up at the boy, keeping up her stern look.
He cocked an eyebrow, "what?"
"Tell me you love me." She repeated, not breaking eye contact with him.
They've never told each other that before, it was always implied, though, so they felt no need to. Of course she loved him, but she needed to know he was serious about them.
"I'm sorry for whatever I did to you." He apologized, rubbing his face nervously.
Of course he wouldn't say it; he had a newfound ego too big for his own good.
"I hope it was worth it, then." She sighed, turning on her heel and without another word sliding into her room, leaving Isaac alone with his pride-- although he didn't feel very prideful right then.
—
Y/n was relieved to find out Isaac wasn't home when she had got back, having promised she'd help prepare dinner; the boys couldn't get enough of her cooking.
The house was empty, though, and that's when she received a text from Larry telling her they were running a little late.
It didn't bother her, she'd simply begin without them.
She sighed deeply as she collected ingredients, allowing her tense shoulders to relax just slightly. She wasted no time and began preparing the meal.
She heard the door being thrown open, and in came Isaac saying something obnoxiously loud. He felt himself freeze under her gaze. She felt like a deer in headlights.
The two of them just stared at each other for longer than necessary.
She turned her back to him again. She'd learned to just ignore his existence instead of removing herself from whatever room he was in.
"Y/n," He started, his accent completely dropped, "I'm sorry."
She kept her back to him, showing no sign she was listening, but he had caught her interest.
"I'm done with all this bullshit, I promise." He pleaded and she believed him for a second-- just a second.
An awkward silence settled between them. Neither wanted to be the first to move, yet neither made a move to leave. There was a couple of seconds of this that seemed to drag on before y/n cleared her throat and straightened up.
"Why? Not because you give a shit about how I felt about anything, right?" She spoke confidently, working away at cutting up some vegetables.
"No-"
She cut him off, "I don't care nor want your bullshit excuses." A sigh left her lips.
"Because I love you."
“Wh-what?” She questioned, more taken aback than actually confused.
"I love you, y/n. I never stopped since starting all this YouTube shit and I don't wanna die before I could tell you that." He repeated, taking the few steps from the door to where she stood
Y/n suddenly felt hyper-aware of every nerve of her body as she finally faced him, unable to talk.
She wasted no time leaning forward to capture a kiss from him. It was everything he had fantasized about since their break off; her lips were soft, and her skin smelt of strawberries.
Their arms wrapped around each other and he lifted her up onto the counter, her legs wrapping around his waist and letting the contents clash as they fell against the counter and the floor.
He pulled away from her, taking in all her features that he wasn't able to admire before. He changed since the beginning of all this, but she did too- and he didn't know she could get any prettier.
She let her hands slide down his neck and then wrapped her arms around her shoulders, "I love you, Isaac."
"You guys friends again?" Tanner spoke from the door, Larry and Nick close behind.
"We're at peace- for now." She smiled, scrunching her nose at Isaac, which he thought was the cutest thing ever. "For now?" He questioned, but she was already gone into the kitchen.
"what do you mean for now?" He chased after her, earning a laugh y/n as they shared a look.
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guns and gifts
carl gallagher x fem!reader
request: Hey! I hope I can send you a request for Karl Gallagher of Shameless. Maybe Karl and y / n were a couple before jail, and after leaving jail he came to her to ask her for forgiveness. y / n doesn't forgive him and he starts giving her gifts and apologizing every day. Then everything is at your discretion. Happy ending please💛 from @powerpuffluuvv
genere: fluff + angst
word count: 2.1k
warnings: swearing, ooc carl
posted on april 18, 2021
puppy love. thirteen year-olds holding hands and sharing stolen kisses. it was a sweet relationship that could’ve grown and matured with the two teens as they did. instead carl found himself a job on the corner and when he got caught y/n was done. fiona tried to get through to the boy, asking him to apologize but he brushed her off.
“can i please just talk to him? maybe he’ll listen to me.” y/n pleaded with the lawyer.
fiona stepped in, “it wouldn’t hurt to try it.”
“five minutes.” the lawyer relented.
y/n thanked him and rushed into the room where he sat. he squinted at her through the glasses fiona gave him. “i’m not fuckin’ sorry. i wish i was smarter about it. i wouldn’t have used chuckie as a mule.”
“you know what. if you don’t tell that judge you’re fucking sorry and that you’ve learned from your mistakes i will never speak to you again.” y/n exited the room quickly letting the ultimatum hang in the air as the door slammed behind her.
during the hearing her eyes were trained on the back of his head, hoping she could somehow will him to do the right thing. she kept her arms crossed as she leaned back. kev and v were sat next to her, waiting anxiously to see what he’d say.
“i’m going to make juvie my bitch.” as soon as he said those words, y/n sighed, getting up from her seat, shouldering her back and slipping out of the courtroom as they hauled carl away. he caught her eye before she left, she froze for a moment before shaking her head and making her exit.
time passed and she still spent time with the rest of the gallaghers, she lived across the street so it would have been hard not too. she helped take care of liam when needed and she got a job at patsy’s with fiona’s help.
the day carl came back had been a surprise for everyone, y/n was helping fiona with making dinner after a shift at patsy’s. the front door had slammed shut and, thinking it was debbie, fiona asked if she got a message about hamburger buns. y/n’s eyes shot up when a much deeper voice responded, “nah, it’s just me.”
excited, fiona rushed towards the boy, wrapping him up in a hug. hugging back, he looked up throwing a wave to y/n who was rooted in place, “hey, y/n.”
snapping herself back into reality she lurched forward wiping her hands and grabbing her things, pulling her bag over her shoulder and gripping her keys tightly she looked back at the boy as fiona fussed over his new appearance. “fuck you, carl.” she spat, slamming the back door shut behind her.
y/n managed to avoid carl at school the next day, he was too busy with “his boy” nick and his new white boy carl personality and selling illegal weapons in the bathrooms to bother her anyways. she rushed to patsy’s as soon as school ended and began her shift.
she spent the afternoon rushing from table to table, taking orders, passing out food, and pouring coffee. she was pouring coffee for a couple sitting near the front door when the bell twinkled, signaling a new customer.
her back turned to the door and her focus pointed and the coffee she was pouring she greeted the customer quickly, “take a seat anywhere and i’ll be right with you darling.” she smiled at the couple before turning around, finding herself face to face with white boy carl himself. “get the fuck out.”
y/n rushed away from him, pouring coffee for a man sat at the counter. carl followed, “please just talk to me, y/n.”
“she doesn’t want to talk to you, man.” the customer spoke up as y/n placed the coffee pot on the burner.
“what the fuck did you just say to me?” carl asked the man.
he stood up, “i told you she doesn’t want to talk. so leave.”
y/n stepped in before a physical altercation broke out, “thank so much, sir, but i can fight my own battles.” she pushed carl towards the door, “out.” she kept pushing him despite his protests, “get the fuck out. go.”
the door slammed behind them, and carl began to speak, “no, you’re going to shut your fucking mouth and listen. i don’t want to listen to you. i don’t want to talk to you. and i don’t even want to see you but that last one might be a little fucking impossible since we’re neighbors and i work with your sister so i’m going to be civil towards you but i will only acknowledge your existence when it is absolutely necessary. clear?”
carl began to protest but y/n cut him off, “are we fucking clear?” carl grumbled an agreement and y/n sighed, “good, now get the fuck out if here. i have to go back to work.”
y/n rushed back into the diner, throwing herself back into work. hoping she looked busy enough to keep the nosy man from before to leave her alone, she poured more coffee, took orders, passed out plates. until her shift ended and she could finally take the l back home.
the next run in with carl happened two days later, she was walking home from school, thankful for the day off from work when carl and nick pulled up on a bike. “y/n! wait!”
sighing, y/n whipped around, “i thought i told you i didn’t want to talk to you.”
“i have something for you.” carl explained as he got closer, y/n ignored him and started walking again, the bike quickly catching up with her. “here.”
y/n scoffed, eyeing the bag, “whatever it is i don’t want it.”
“it’s a book, debbie told me you wanted to read it.”
y/n sped up, “no thanks, already read it.” she didn’t care what book it was, she didn’t want anything from him. she took this moment to cross the street, the passing cars making it difficult for the boys on the bike to follow.
she entered the gallagher house hoping carl would be too busy to come home for a few hours while she watched liam. “i get off at nine, if anyone else comes home you’re welcome to leave but i plan on bringing something back for dinner if you want to stick around for that.”
“of course i’ll stay. me and liam are going to have a great time. isn’t that right liam?” y/n asked the toddler who nodded enthusiastically. fiona thanked her and rushed out the door.
y/n put on a movie, which liam fell asleep watching about thirty minutes in. y/n got up and stretched when the movie ended, adjusting the blanket she threw over liam when he fell asleep. she walked in the kitchen, stiff from sitting for so long. she pulled out a can of pop from the fridge and leaned her back against the fridge, using to stretch her body more.
the door swung open and carl walked in, “good you’re hear, i have something else for you.”
“whatever it is, i don’t want it.” y/n sighed into her drink.
“it’s a necklace, here.” he opened the velvet box to show her an expensive looking necklace.
she turned away from him, “no thanks.” walking back into the living room. “go somewhere else please, i have to watch liam.”
carl sighed before exiting the house with nick, who had been hanging back by the door during the exchange. he nodded to nick and the two rolled out to go do god knows what.
that night fiona came home with food, the entire gallagher clan plus kev and v enjoyed. there were enough people that y/n managed to avoid speaking to carl the entire evening. every time he tried to speak to her she’d find someone to talk to, she talked lip about something she had to do for school, ian told her about trevor, and her and debbie talked about anything.
v even pointed out the strange behavior when carl was left looking slightly dejected to fiona, who just shrugged in response.
“thank you fiona, goodnight everyone.” y/n called as she stepped out the back door. she crossed the street quickly and made it home, which as usual was empty, the rest of her family nowhere to be found.
she sighed, grabbing a beer from the fridge and kicking of her shoes as soon as she made it to her room. she threw herself back on her bed yelping when she collided with something hard. she jumped up only to see the jewelry box and book carl had bought her. she set her beer down and pulled the box open, smiling at the necklace. it was gold, with a small tear shaped pendant that held some sort of crystal or diamond.
she set the box next to her beer, which she grabbed and took sip of as she grabbed the book. it was actually something she’d been wanting, she rolled her eyes before opening it to the first page.
the next fee days followed a similar pattern, carl would stop her at school and work and even his own house to offer her gifts, which she would refuse, which would always end up on her bed at the end of the day. on a particularly rough day, y/n had enough. she was walking home from school, carl (who was alone this time) behind her, like clockwork offering another gift.
“carl, please just leave me alone. i don’t have the energy to deal with you.” y/n said not stopping. carl made a comment and y/n snapped, “god i’m not going to forgive you because you chose to go to juvie. you could have just apologized and gotten parole but that didn’t happen. and i’m not going to be your girlfriend again because i don’t even know who you are any more, this thug personality doesn’t look good on you.” y/n sighed rushing away before he could answer.
she was suddenly thankful for the day off, deciding to spend it all alone at home. it was a friday and her weekend was also free so she spent the next few days home alone. her family was gone of course, they only only seemed to show up once a month just to leave again the same day.
sunday evening y/n laid in the couch watching what was on tv when there was a knock on the door. y/n groaned, getting up to answer it freezing when carl was revealed on the other side. he looked small, he was curled into himself and he looked sad. his braids were out, soft curls in the place. “hey, y/n.” he said softly. y/n wordlessly moved out of the way to let him in.
“i’m done. no more sell drugs, guns, anything. something happened, with nick and i don’t want that to be my life anymore.” his voice cracked and y/n instinctively wrapped him into a hug, squeezing protectively. he cried into her shoulder, holding her tightly, scared to let her go.
“hey,” y/n spoke softly, running her fingers through his hair, “you’re okay. i got you.” once carl calmed down, he pulled away but y/n held onto him, hands on his face.
“i really miss you y/n. and i know i was awful before but all i want to do is be with you. i love you.” he sighed, his hands holding her wrists.
y/n pulled him closer, “i love you, too, idiot.” carl gave her a lopsided smiled before surging forward to connect their lips in a hot kiss. y/n stumbled backwards before backing into the wall behind her. carl bit on her lip softly causing her breath to catch in her throat. she tugged on his hair and he squeezed her hips. she pulled away for breath, pressing her forehead to his, “my room?” breathless carl nodded pressing a quick kiss to her lips before they rushed to her room.
the next morning the front door slammed opened, “y/n! i’m going to kill fiona!” debbie stormed through the house bursting into y/n’s room where she was laying next to a topless carl, wearing only his t-shirt, “oh my god! ew!” debbie shielded her eyes from the sight before her.
“hey, debs.” y/n mumbled, sheepishly.
debbie groaned, “just get dressed, we have school.”
#carl gallagher imagine#carl gallagher#shameless x reader#shameless fanfiction#shameless imagine#shameless#lip gallagher#fiona gallagher#debbie gallagher#ian gallagher#kev ball#veronica ball#veronica fisher#2k words
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Rager Teenager.
Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Kelly Olsen x Niece!Reader
Word Count: 2900.
Alex doesn’t even look shocked when she sees you landing in her backyard, dropping a bag of clothes loudly on the ground.
“Hey.” You greet her with a smile, looking at her standing in the doorway with a glass of wine in her hands.
“Running away, kiddo?” She points at the bag, but she means it like a joke. Let’s just say you were quite generous with the amount of clothes you packed. You could be leaving the house for a month, for what it’s worth. Yet, no one would actually think that you are running away from home.
“Yep.” You shrug it off. Her eyebrows are pinched together immediately. “Can I stay?”
Alex moves away from the door, giving you space to walk in. “Should I call your moms to let them know or-?”
“Nah, they’re aware.” You pick up your bag and make your way inside, passing her on the way in. “Hi, aunt Kelly. Where’s Jamie?”
“Oh, hi.” Kelly smiles at you from her wine glass. She then acknowledges the bag, pointing at it with her face. “Is that some big creation or something fun for you two to do?”
“Actually, just my clothes. I’m moving in.” You smile making your way to the stairs. “Indefinitely.”
“Oh. Sounds fun.” Kelly gives you two thumbs up, not looking as amused as she made it sound. “Your cousin is upstairs.”
“Cool. Thanks for letting me stay.” You say, making your way to Jamie’s bedroom to surprise her.
You are aware they didn’t exactly let you stay. Especially not ‘indefinitely’. But you know they would never say no to you, just like your moms would never say no to Jamie if she wanted to stay at your house. You also know that Alex is probably calling Kara right now, and that at some point tonight Kelly will try to assess how you’re feeling, claiming this is an open safe space.
It’s annoying that they’ll treat you like you’re the one that needs to talk about your feelings and understand them. You do understand what you’re feeling. You’re feeling like they think you should be ok with the fact that you don’t need their attention anymore. And of course you don’t need it. But you want it.
Your moms have always been your best friend. You tell them everything and you like that. You like the fact that you don’t have to be rebellious to get their attention, because you are the most important person in their lives, and you liked that feeling.
But well, now things are different. Maybe you need to change a little. Make a little trouble. Be a rebel rascal. A wild child. A rager teenager.
“Hey!” You drop your bag in a loud thud on the floor, making Jamie look up from her phone.
“I see you finally brought back all the things you borrowed from me.” She points at the bag with her eyes, and you roll yours in response.
“You wish.” You throw yourself on her bed, in front of her. “I’m actually moving in.”
“You don’t say.” She throws her phone to the side, looking at you with curiosity in her eyes. “Well, go on. Let’s hear it.”
You tell her everything and Jamie looks amused that the first time you’re throwing a tantrum is over something so dumb as not getting their attention. Says the girl who doesn’t pick up her phone at eight -not even in a life-threatening situation- because that’s her catch up time with her moms.
“So your big rebellious act is coming to my house?” You nod. “I would’ve thought staying with, I don’t know, Lillian Luthor would be far more dramatic.”
“Should I?” You ask out loud, but you’re actually talking to yourself. “No, right? No. That’s insane.” Is it? Yes, yes it is. “But I do have another rebellious idea in my baggage.”
Jamie zeroes in the bag you brought in. Sure the bag is big, but it doesn’t fit what you’re thinking.
“Not my actual bag.” You roll your eyes. “I meant my emotional baggage.”
“Oh, that’s a lot bigger than that one.” She agrees with her head, making her point. You look at the enormous bag on the floor of her bedroom.
“No, it’s not.”
“Hey, remember that time you almost died?”
“Which one?” You ask and she gives you a satisfied grin, like she is saying ‘touché’. Yeah, you guess she has a point.
“ANYWAYS!” You say, trying to ignore her. “Movies!”
See, it was kind of obvious that you wouldn’t be good at being rebellious. You never had to do this before. You’ve only seen it in movies. Ok, so let’s try what movies did. In Harry Potter, Hermione's big rebellious act was erasing her parents' mind. Huh. That you have the means to do. But no, that’s insane. Right? Right! Making your moms forget you is insane! Maybe you should think of rom-coms or teen movies. Hm, in ‘Mean Girls’ Cady throws a party when they’re parents aren’t in the house and dresses slutty or whatever. You can’t pull any of this off. Who would come to your party? How would you kick your moms out of the house? And you would rather die than dress slutty.
“Movies.” Jamie repeats, incredulous. “You know, for a genius you really lack basic information at times.” She says making you gruff. “You want to be rebellious? Steal Lena’s BMW, sneak out, go to a party, get drunk-”
“I can’t exactly get drunk unless it is alien alcohol.” You add.
“Steal alien alcohol.” She adds to the list, a little disgruntled that you made her lose her train of thought. “Make me go with you.”
“You’re literally giving me the idea.”
“Hmm, yes. Because I’m dying to go to this party Maya told me about, but I need plausible deniability. As in-”
“If your moms ask, it was all my fault?” You ask with an eyebrow raise and she agrees with her head. “Ok, fine. I’ll take the blame. But I think we can be more rebellious than that.” You give her a wicked smile. “Can you imagine how crazy it would be if-” You take off your glasses. “She went to a party?”
“WHAT!” Jamie sits straighter in bed looking equally terrified and excited. “No! You can’t have Superkid go to a party! She is a SUPER! Kara would absolutely kill you.”
“What’s the point of only pissing off Lena? I do that way too much already.” You throw yourself back in bed, thinking about it. “Besides, no one wants a Luthor in their party. Now, who’s going to say no to Superkid?”
“Ok, wait a minute. I-I-” You can tell you have made Jamie really confused when you leave her speechless. “Superkid doesn’t even exist anymore, and you want to bring her back just so you can go to a party?”
“Superkid doesn’t-'' You laugh, then furrow your brows. Holy shit, people still think you’re not supering anymore. “Oh, yeah, about that. I’ve been supering in secret ever since I came back from that other reality.”
“You-” Jamie’s mouth comically open wide like a cartoon character. “But-You-And then-I don’t get it.”
“See? That’s why I’ve been doing it in secret.”
Because how do you do it? How do you go back to being a superhero when you made such a big deal about not ever wanting to be a superhero ever again in your life? How do you unsay it?
Should you just come back home and be like ‘oh yeah, by the way, Superkid exists again, and you have to go back to worrying about me, Lena. And yes, Kara, you might have to go to outer space save me again a couple of times. No biggy. Good night!’
So you don't, right? You sneak in in secret instead. Pray you don't die on the job. Pray they don't find out. And mostly, you pray that you're doing the correct thing, because it's the righteous thing to do and not because you selfishly want that powerful feeling you had before.
“So for weeks you’ve been going around National City saving people and no one knew?” You nod. She needs to make sure. Jamie slaps your arm like you could feel pain. “You didn’t even tell me?”
“I’m telling you right now. Before anyone else.” She still rolls her eyes at you. “Come on, it’s a great way for Superkid to do her comeback. At a party, dancing with stupid teens.” Jamie looks unconvinced. “We can still take Lena’s car.”
“Why would we need it? You can just fly us there.”
“Yeah, I know. But it will piss off Lena.” You give her another wicked grin. “I’ll let you drive.”
“Yeah, ok, cool.”
Simple as that.
So it’s Friday night, Jamie agrees she will go to the party with Maya, and you told your girlfriend you were grounded. Yes, it’s a lie. But barely. You’re sure you’ll be grounded right after this, anyways.
It’s before midnight when both of your aunts say goodnight and go to bed. Kelly makes sure she schedules a ‘talking about your feelings’ session right on Saturday morning with you, before she leaves, though. Ugh, this won’t be fun.
You give them some time, then use your super hearing to make sure they are asleep, before you fly out the window and look for Lena. Like you suspected it’s Friday night and she’s made it back to L Corp, after you left home. Rao, you’re so mad.
You fly home and check for Kara’s presence. All clear. Must be tailing Arnold McKenan or running away from her problems. For someone so brave, you can’t believe how much of a coward she is when it comes to Lena. Rao, you’re raging.
You grab Lena’s car keys, your supersuit in their closet, and then pick the car up and drop off in front of Jamie. You love Jamie, and you know she drives better than you do, but still you fly behind her car the entire time to make sure she is safe. Damn the car, if it was for you, you would toss it in the ocean, it’s Jamie you care about.
“Holy!” Maya says, when she slides in the car. “That’s-wow! Did you steal this?”
“For sure.” Jamie smiles and drives off, leaving nothing but tire marks behind.
“Is that why Superkid is following us?” Maya asks, and you smile to yourself.
“Nah. She was saving a kitten and I asked if she wanted to come to a party. Now, she’s following the car.”
“WHAT!” Maya yells, sounding excited. “You’re joking! We’re going to a party with Superkid?” She gets nothing but a nod. “Holy fucking shit! I can’t believe my girlfriend won’t be there. Maybe we could convince her to sneak out?”
“Please. Do you even know your girlfriend?” You hear Jamie’s response. “She would never.” You scoff. “Besides, I don’t want to be third-wheeling all night. You guys are awfully handsy.”
“Yeah, well. She’s hot.” Maya says, making you smile even more. “Here. We’re here.” And so Jamie parks.
“Hi!” You open the car’s door to Maya, giving you her hand so she can exit the car. “I’m Superkid.”
“Of course you are.” She manages to say, looking red as a tomato.
“Your friend Jamie said it was ok if I came. I hope I’m not intruding on anything.”
“NO! No! Not at all. You’re more than welcomed. I mean, it’s not my party, but I’m guessing you will be more than welcome. I mean, who wouldn’t want Superkid in their party, right? So yeah you’re welcome! Anyways, you cool? I’m cool.” She rambles, making you and Jamie share a look. “Oof, I’m sweating.”
“Don’t be nervous.” You put your hand on her shoulder for a light squeeze. “I’m just a normal teen.”
She wheezes out a laugh. “I don’t know about normal.”
“More than you think. Shall we?” You point inside the house, and she agrees with her head. They fall a little behind you, and you can hear Maya whispering.
“Doesn’t she look awfully familiar?”
“Haven’t you met her before a few times?” Jamie saves you and you smile when Maya agrees, and lets it go.
Let’s just say going to a party as Superkid is on the top of the best ideas you’ve ever had. Superkid is a big hit. There’s even a line so people can take pictures with you. And they all love you. You’ve never felt so loved in your life. This was exactly what you needed.
It sucks that alcohol does literally nothing to you, but you still enjoy watching Jamie and Maya getting louder and flushed and talking nonsense to you all night. So this is what it's like to be a normal teenage girl? You’ll take it.
It is also very exciting that Maya can’t ever stop bringing your name up. The real you. Not Superkid. Not you in this shiny suit. The nerdy you that is apparently home, texting her so she can enjoy the party.
The night goes on and you don’t think once about Lena in her stupid office, doing her dreary paperwork, acting like that fucking company is more important than your family’s existence. You also don’t think about Kara in that stupid DEO, doing her dreary patrol, acting like the fucking world is more important than your family’s wellbeing. Or maybe you thought about it once or twice. But not as much as you would if you were home alone waiting for them. But hey, you shouldn’t be thinking about them! They sure as hell aren’t thinking about you right now.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Jamie says looking at her phone. “It’s mami! She probably noticed I’m not in my bedroom.”
“It’s ok. Let me see that.” You grab her phone. “I’ll take this up in the sky, so she doesn’t hear all the noise.”
“You’re going to answer her phone?” Maya asks, and you realize that it doesn’t make a lot of sense for you to be answering the phone of some girl you just met. Damn! Maya still makes sense even with all the alcohol.
“Oh. Um. I’m really good at impressions!” You say with a smile. But you can’t actually impersonate Jamie. You put both hands on your waist and look up. “Hope, help, and compassion for all.” Then you smile. “That was Supergirl.”
“It was perfect.” She says, and now the alcohol is probably doing the effect again.
“Ok! Gotta go!” You fly up and notice that a bunch camera flashes follow you. Feels good to be loved. “Heeeey auntie.”
“Where the hell are the two of you?” Kelly yells through her phone and you actually have to take it off your ear, because it’s too loud.
“Oh!” Think of something, come on. “We’re at-at the Fortress. I brought Jamie to help me look for this thing-”
“And none of you thought it was a good idea to let us know that? We were here thinking she was kidnapped!”
“By whom?”
“Well, I don’t know. It’s a new threat every day in this town! A few weeks ago you literally vanished from your bedroom one night!” Oh, that. What a cool funny story, that no one thinks is cool nor fun, except you. Kelly exhales. “Why didn’t she pick up the phone herself?”
“Oh! I think she got lost in one of the rooms.” You hate that you’re lying so much. You never once lied to Kelly before. What if she just knows? “Don’t worry, auntie. We’re safe, and will be back home in bed soon, ok? Go to bed, everything is ok. Goodnight!”
You hang up before she answers. Way to be suspicious. You come back to the party and see Jamie hyperventilating afraid of the conversation you just had.
“We should go.”
“Relax, I handled it.” You pick up another jello shot, putting on Jamie’s hand. “Chill, I’ve got this. No one will ever know.”
And when you make it back home and park Lena’s car exactly like it was parked -in all honesty Jamie couldn’t parallel park so you picked it up and put it in its place-, you think no one will ever know. And when you and Jamie sneak in her bedroom and go straight to bed, and none of her moms wake up, you are sure no one will ever know.
Wouldn’t it be nice if that was actually the case? But when you wake up the next morning… Oh, crap. Oh, shit. Oh, no. What are Kara and Lena doing here?
#supergirl#kara danvers#supercorp#supercorpfamily#lena luthor#supercorp daughter#kara x lena#kara x reader#supercorp fanfic#lena x reader#alex danvers#kelly olsen
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Crossposting my @summer-in-the-archives-event fic here too. [AO3] [Accompanying beautiful art]
He’d never get used to the rolling fields of quiet.
Miles behind and miles to go, not that he could see any of it through the thick blanket of fog that clung to his ankles, and his wrists, and his eyes. Miles to go before I sleep…
It was hard to describe the rain that fell, because even ‘fell’ felt like too active a descriptor. It didn’t pour, it didn’t ‘beat down’, it didn’t pelt, because those all required a sense of agency that the landscape just felt too apathetic to muster. It simply existed, and just happened to be moving downwards by coincidence.
Jon wasn’t sure if he knew or Knew that it seeped into his clothes, coating his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the droplets landing, even pinpricks of touch creating too much of a sensation for this place. He briefly wondered that, if he still had need for his glasses, would the rain even make the effort to trickle down and cloud the lenses.
The last Lonely domain he’d passed through, he’d never seen the avatar that lorded over it. He didn’t have any real interest in finding out, not like the personal vendettas that lead him to seeking out Jude, or Jared. Because with Peter dead he wasn’t left with any Lonely avatars left to chase, save the vague notions of the Lukas extended family. He was simply going to keep his head down and keep trudging, hopefully emerging through the thick banks of mist before he lost his mind to the monotony. If there was ever something to make you miss muffled cries from beneath the earth…
“Why are you here?”
The sound was accusatory, and may as well have been a shotgun in the silence. The damped chill was nothing in comparison to the ice that shot up his spine. The voice had no clear origin, no figures even silhouetted in shadow against the overgrown grass, but it came in close, delivered on the gentle, numbing breeze. Despite this, though, never in a thousand domains could he forget the sound of it. Of course it was his. Of course. Of course. “Martin?”
“No! ”
The voice sounded… Angry. But hurt, like it flinched away from the word. Like something that had been left to sit in the dark too long, that recoiled back from a stinging source of light.
“... I’m going to assume no one has called you that in a long time.” He tried to keep his voice light, as much as the stifling atmosphere would allow it.
“No one is anything here. It’s easier that way. If you’re somebody, you can be hurt. If you have too much personality, too many little facets and cracks, things start to snag and catch on it, and it drags you down to where things ache. But if you’re nothing, then they don’t have anything to cling onto. You can just slip away unharmed.” The voice sounded like it was moving, curling around him and moving from ear to ear, forward and back as it droned on in that echoing monotone that Jon had hoped he would never hear again, and at the same time, had longed to.
“And what about the good things?”
“There isn’t anything good, not anymore. You saw to that.”
Jon snorted. “Low blow, but fair.” He hesitated for a moment, trying to summon the words.
He’d had time, after he left the Lonely, to consider his actions. Regret pooled like acid in his stomach at the memory, and somehow it hurt more than ending the world. He wouldn’t say it was more important. He knew whatever he felt, and moreso, knew that one human life, was not paramount to the suffering of every creature great and small, but it felt more tangible. When he walked through the hellscapes, they were dreamlike, hazy, information in such clarity but to an extreme where it still felt nonsensical to perceive it as reality. He knew the fundamental truths that surrounded him but it still felt hard to accept them even as he lived them.
Yet despite having lived without it for eight months prior, the space beside him that failed to solidify into Martin still stung with his absence. And Jon regretted it every not-day he spent walking the hellscape, both in knowing he doomed a good man to suffering, or worse, revelry, in this new world, and in the far more personal, and far more selfish, part of him that missed him so goddamn much.
“But- But Martin, I think I made a mistake.”
“Obviously.”
“Not- Not that. I mean, when we were in the Lonely. The- The first time. With Peter Lukas.” The silence droned on, and Jon took that as his cue to continue. “Do you remember what I said? That maybe you were safer here? And that’s… That’s why I let you stay. I didn’t push you to, to leave with me because I thought you wanted to be here, that you’d be safer here than you’d be with me. But I don’t think that was entirely true.”
“I am safe here.”
“Maybe so. It doesn’t mean it’s better though, does it. Martin, I saw those people, in the last Lonely domain. I know it’s different, they were victims and you’re… You’re an avatar, here, you’re feeding off of all of this, but I promise you they were not happy. They were so alone and it didn’t protect them, it just made it worse. Think about it, the logic of this world. There are threats out there of unimaginable horror, and yet they were still assigned here, it’s their worst nightmare. And you were assigned here too. You’re all suffering, just in different ways, but all calculated to be your personal worst.”
“The Martin Blackwood you thought you knew doesn’t exist anymore. He had to be filed down, too many breaks and tears in him that grew and grew, any time someone raised a harsh word. The best way for him to be protected, is for him to go away entirely. You cannot hurt something that doesn’t exist.”
“Are you sure about that? Because you just said ‘I’.”
“What? ” That anger reemerged again, and as staunched as it was it was beautiful, a return to form amongst the dull monotone, reminiscent of the few times Jon had been privileged enough to witness a truly pissed off Martin Blackwood.
Jon found himself grinning. “You said ‘I am safe here’. Emphasis on the ‘I’. Ergo, you still have some form of identity left, and thus I would wager that the part of you left is Martin. Unless I’ve wandered across some other avatar of the Lonely who sounds like him, of course.”
“You’re always so fucking smug, you know that?”
The voice is coming from behind him. Actually, physically, presently behind him and Jon spins around so fast he’s almost dizzy.
And as much as it made his heart soar, and much as he was glad to finally, finally , see him again when he’d thought he never would, Martin looked… Bad.
His skin had darkened, mottled and blotchy with large swathes of a bruise-like blue or sickly green cropping up across his face and neck, or the parts of his forearms visible where his cable knit sleeves rolled back. It was like frostbite from the cold, or some disturbing onset of trench-foot from the damp, corpselike and unsettling. What was worse, though, were the parts that simply ceased. His hair didn’t even reach the tips, simply fading out into a grey static that merged with the mist, and it consumed his eyes whole, tear tracks streaking down his face in patterns of fuzzy, crackling grey that snapped and popped in the silence, far too reminiscent of a tape.
The sight made Jon’s heart clench like a fist, the combination of relief and horror, and in that moment he understood Jane Prentiss more completely than he ever had before. It would’ve felt like a rude comparison to consciously make, the person he cared for most equated to a pulped and writhing mass that churned out creatures that made your skin crawl before tearing into it. But he knew what she had seen in it, that call towards the thing that fascinated you, despite the turning it causes in your stomach.
Despite this, however, Jon steeled himself. This was rapidly becoming a battle, and he couldn’t afford the cost of emotions. He had to keep Martin, well… Martin. Draw out the emotion. In short, be a bit of a bastard. So instead, he cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you liked that about me?”
He could see Martin’s fists clench, the colour of his extremities dyed black from frostbite. The irritation was still clear as he started into “Fucking hell J-” but they both appeared taken aback as he dissolved into a choking, hacking cough.
It took everything in him for Jon to tamp down the need to surge forward, put a hand on his back and ask if he was okay. It was a strangely mundane thing; the man was made out of static and fog and despite seeming to have an on-and-off-again relationship with his corporeal form, this was the first recognisably human thing to adversely affect him. Why, though? What had Martin done to trigger- Oh. Oh .
“That- That priest from the statement… 0113005? Father Burroughs. He couldn’t say the name of god. Anything related to it, really. And you… You couldn’t say my…”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Martin spat. “You’re not a god or thee god, whatever your new eye magic might imply. It’s just…” He let out a breath that turned into a grumble. While his eyes had always been cloudy, he was now refusing to meet Jon’s gaze.
Regardless, it still drew a breathy laugh out of him. “No, I’m not that far gone into my own self importance yet. But… It’s about the connection, isn’t it?” Something in the conversation had changed, it’s tone or it’s flow, that felt contradicting. Tension coiling up to spring, or they’re barrelling towards a culmination, but at the same time, Jon felt like the wind had been kicked right out of him. He lowered himself to the ground, slowly, settling among the grass and trying to ignore the unpleasant dampness under him. Hey, he could feel the damp again. That was something.
“That’s more flattering, actually, I would say… The Lonely, it thinks if you acknowledge me directly, that would loosen it’s hold on you.” Jon huffed out a breath. “You know I listened to all the tapes. What was it that Daisy said to you, when I was on the run? ‘People say you two are close’? Well, the Lonely appears to agree.” He took a minute before adding, “I would, as well. And, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was too… Too in my own head, before, to admit it. Too much of a coward to do it before that, even. But you need to know I love you. And I know that you… Cared for me, at least? Even if I stuck my head in the sand to ignore it. But the Lonely seems to think you do, still. So will you please come back to me? I know it’s not- I know it won’t be much better, travelling through the domains, but it’s all I can offer and it has to be better than this. I can’t promise anything kind will be waiting for us in London, but you’d be yourself again, and I can’t… Martin, I can’t lose you again. To leave here, again, without you, I’d be losing you. Please.”
“No.”
There wasn’t even a delay to his response, stating it in monotone the second Jon had finished speaking. It felt like ice, lancing through his heart.
“Martin. Martin, please -”
“I said no. I thought you would’ve learned by now; I’m not exactly amenable when you come crawling to me with half baked plans of escape. Because you don’t love me, you love the idea of me. You are quite literally the only free man left in the world and you’re lonely . So you’re looking for a familiar face. Kind Martin, caring Martin, always there with tea and taking your side in every argument. Defending you to Tim when you’d just as soon slag him off behind his back, or on tape. Pretty appealing when everyone else is trying to kill you. At least he treated you like a god before this even started.”
Each sentence felt like another dagger to the chest, and it took him a moment to compose himself, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. Eventually, though, Jon spoke. “That’s not true, though. I- Martin I can’t apologise enough that that’s what it’s felt like, for you. But I need you to know, that isn’t true. A-At the start, maybe, I can’t deny I was stupid and spiteful, but you didn’t deserve any of it. And after that… I didn’t do a one-eighty and decide you were a doormat. I liked you because you were secretly enough of a prick as well. Any time you’d pull me out for lunch when I dragged my heels, or argued back when I said something shitty, that was… It felt like I was seeing the real you. The one you didn’t want to let people think of you as, but the one you were, because despite wanting to appear like the picture of innocence, you are a bitch, Martin Blackwood. And that’s my favourite thing about you. Maybe time is sweetening my memory, slightly, but I truly don’t believe there’s rose coloured glasses here. If we walk out of here, I’m not under any sort of illusion that it’ll be a honeymoon. We will doubtless find something to argue over, if not several, but I want that. I want you at my side to, to disagree and point out all my blind spots. We’re both stubborn bastards but I’m stupidly fallible, and I need you to keep me balanced. I don’t want a yes-man, I want you, Martin, and I’m asking for that knowing full well what it entails.”
When the words stopped flowing, he found himself gasping for breath, sobs building in his chest and threatening to spill over. But Martin was standing closer.
“That’s- I don’t- Fuck.” As Jon looked up, wiping at his own eyes, he could see fog starting to trickle from Martin’s mouth, coming in short bursts as his nostrils flared and chest rose and fell noticeably for the first time that Jon had seen since he stepped foot onto the moors. This caused a conflict of emotion in Jon, because while it seemed to be another step towards humanity, Martin letting the Lonely fall to the wayside in favour of reclaiming himself, it also looked far too close to a panic attack to be something worth celebrating.
“I don’t understand,” he finally settled on, voice cracking on the words. He slowly let himself sink to the ground opposite Jon, knees pulled up to his chest. “I left you. Time and again I left you. I left you to work with Lukas, and I left you when you tried to get me to run away, and I left you when I stayed on the beach.” His palms were pressed into his eyes, mist seeping from between his knuckles as he dragged them across his face, though Jon couldn’t be sure if he was attempting to wipe the fog away, or if he was stalling while he faltered, trying to summon the words. Both, maybe. Jon took the silence from him.
“You didn’t really choose that, though. You didn’t feel like you even had a choice. So Martin if… If you’re worried that I think badly of you for that, I don’t. Martin, I’ve done so many terrible things, so to- No, no, actually I don’t mean it like that. I don’t mean that you’re a good person, compared with me. I think you’re a good person full stop. And I just want you to be able to see that. I know the Lonely is quite literally clouding your judgement right now but… Please, just, just make me a deal?”
Martin’s palms were resting on his chin now, cupping his cheeks and curving around his neck. He nodded once, wearily, for Jon to continue.
Jon drew in a breath “I think I’m in some sort of… Bubble. Like a miniature domain, when I’m travelling. I think, if you agree to come with me, even for a little bit, that might dissolve some of the Lonely’s more adverse effects. Make it easier to think, to, to be yourself without its influence. If that is what happens, and you want to return… I’ll bring you back. But please, just… Try? For me?”
Martin sighed, hands dropping from his face. “...Fine.”
“You- Really?”
“Yes. I… Look, J-” Martin bit back another coughing fit. “Look. I am… There is a lot of me right now that wants to leave. The fog is… It’s in my head, figuratively, probably even literally, but… I remember something Basira said. When she got back, from, from The Unknowing . Melanie wanted to know how she got out, when the other three… When you, and Daisy, and Tim, didn’t. She said she reasoned her way out. So I’m going to listen to reason for a minute, as much as it’s paining me.”
Despite those final words, Jon felt his face crack into a smile. “That’s… Yes, you’re right. Well that’s… That’s a very reasonable connection to make.”
And for the first time in a long time, Martin smiled.
“Uhm, so how does this work then?” He eventually said, hand coming up again to scratch the back of his neck in an old nervous habit Jon could not be more happy to see.
“Well”, Jon said, taking a moment to brush sodden grass from his trousers as he got to his feet, “I would say, based on the dream logic that everything here seems to run on here, it should be rather simple.” He held out a hand to tug Martin up after him.
Martin took it.
It was almost cliché, how the Lonely fell away from him. It only took a few seconds, all in all, for the bruising to fade, receding their colourful splotches until his skin lay clear again. His frostbitten fingers healing themselves, sewing broken skin back together and returning to a healthy colour. His face, too, was returning to its original pallor, the change creeping up his neck and across his cheeks and leaving rich brown in its wake. Dark eyes stared down at Jon from behind long lashes, blinking away the last of the fog. He was beautiful.
“Hi,” Jon managed to choke out.
“Hi,” Martin said, and pulled him into his arms.
Jon just let himself be held in the pressure of the embrace for a moment, before bringing a hand up to card his fingers through Martin’s hair. While it had solidified into soft curls, the colour had stayed the same, bleaching it white under his fingertips. He wasn’t sure if Martin had noticed or not, but that was a conversation for another time. They were both a little preoccupied for the moment.
“How do you feel?” Jon eventually said, words pressed into the side of Martin’s neck.
“Uhm. Strange?” Martin eventually settled on. “It’s… I can remember what my thought process was, what the Lonely was pushing me to believe, but it’s like… It’s like the camera panned out, and now I can see it all clearly, and it looks… It looks stupid. Thank you, Jon. For coming to get me.”
“Of course,” Jon whispered, “Of course.”
Another moment passed before Martin spoke up again. “...Did you mean what you said, though? Or was that… Was that just to try and get me to leave? I- I won’t be angry, if it was, that- that’s very clever, I just want to know.”
Jon furrowed his brow. “Which part do you mean?”
Martin let out an agitated sigh. “You- You know which one I mean, Jon. The- The part where that you said that you…”
“That I love you?” Jon said, picking up where Martin trailed off.
Martin’s face flushed, and just the sight of colour spreading across it made Jon’s heart soar, let alone the implications of why . “Of course I did. I- I’m sorry that you would think I would lie about that, even for something like this. No, Martin, I love you. So very much. And I know you might not feel that way anymore, in which case I am very much embarrassing myself here, but I know that you did at one stage so I hope it won’t make things too awkward between us.” “I do, Jon.”
“What?”
“I do. Still feel that way. I love you too, of course I do. My hero.”
It was Jon’s turn to feel his face flush, pleasant warmth bubbling to the surface. “Oh,” was all he managed to stutter out.
“Can I- Jon do you mind if I…” Martin trailed off again, and Jon began to think this might be a recurring theme between them. He’d make it work. He was pretty good at reading Martin, and the eyeline pointed directly at his lips made intentions quite clear.
“Is- Would just the cheek be okay?” He replied. It didn’t really feel like the time for a full run down on where boundaries lay, but he figured it was a start.
“More than,” Martin said, leaning down to press his lips softly against Jon’s cheek. He lingered for a few seconds, skin largely healed but still chapped from the cold, and it was one of the most beautiful things Jon had ever felt. He slipped one hand into Martin’s, and he felt their fingers twine together.
Martin leaned back, clearly trying to calm his grin into something more close-lipped and calm. “Where to now then?”
“Uhm. Forward, really, is just how I’ve been going. There isn’t any real sense of geography to it, we’ll just…. Get there when we get there.”
“Right. Because nothing can be simple these days.”
Jon missed this. He missed him. But he didn’t have to miss him anymore, did he? He was right there.
He squeezed his hand once, and started leading the way.
#My Post#Jonmartin#The Magnus Archives#I'm maybe pushing this one a little hard but I just. crave validation okay#And I want to see what the difference is between how a fic does as a tumblr post vs ao3#lets call it science#My Writing#Martin Blackwood#Jonathan Sims
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Burnt
Kozik x OFC (Tawnie Trager)
Inspired by Day 16 of the July Prompts: sunscreen
Part 2 can be found Here
Warnings: language
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: Me? Back at it again with another slice of life fic? It’s more likely than you think! In my head this takes place on the same day as my other SOA Beach Day fic Say Cheese but the stories exist separately from one another. Also, if you’re interested in this pairing you can check out these fics: X X
SOA Taglist: @garbinge @masterlistforimagines @adela-topaz-caelon @chibsytelford @mijop @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @jitterbugs927 @kkim120 @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @mrsstevenbuchananstark (If you want to be added just let me know!)
“Dad,” she aggressively shoved the bottle of sunscreen into his hand, “Dad just put it on.”
“No,” Tig tossed it over onto the towel, “I’m not putting that on. I don’t need it. I’ll be fine.”
Rolling her eyes, she picked the bottle back up. She squeezed a generous amount onto her hand and then proceeded to slap it onto his chest, “You’re tough but you’re not tougher than the fucking sun. Get over yourself.”
He groaned as he looked down at the mess of lotion that was on him now, “You fucking kidding me, T?”
“Nope,” she shook her head as she rubbed some into her own arms and legs.
Once she was done, she looked around to see who else was close. She loved all the boys in the club, but she would be the first to tell them all when they were being idiots. She was adamant about the whole sunscreen thing ever since they all decided to do a beach day together. The guys had given her shit about it at first, wondering when she became so concerned with those kinds of things, but when it came down to it the last thing they wanted was the pain that came from serious sunburn. So, most of them silently put some on, refusing to make eye contact with each other and acknowledge the situation.
“Kozik!” she called over to the man who was laying out towels for each of them.
His head whipped up, instantly looking over at her, “Yea?”
“You got some on?” she waved the bottle in his direction.
“Let him get burned,” Tig mumbled under his breath as he wiped away the last of the lotion that his daughter had caught him with.
Tawnie ignored the comment, shaking her head slightly as she waited for Kozik’s answer. He made his way over to her, reassuring her that, yes, he had put some on the second they got to the beach. He knew that there was no way she was going to let him get away with anything else, and she was the last person that he wanted to be pissing off.
“Can you get my back?” she asked as she handed him the bottle, pulling her hair out of the way.
“Um,” he could feel Tig’s eyes boring into him, “sure.”
Kozik silently prayed to whatever gods there were that Tig wasn’t going to pick him up and drown him in the ocean. He tried to focus on the task at hand, but he also wondered if that would make things worse. And she must’ve sense the tension, too, because she glanced back over her shoulder and looked at her father, eyebrows raised.
“You want him to get your back too, Dad?” she asked.
Kozik’s entire body froze up as he waited for the fallout. Surprisingly enough, Tig just sighed and shook his head before turning and walking down towards the water, “Those hands go below her shoulders and you’re a fucking dead man, Kozik.”
She chuckled quietly as he finished applying the sunscreen, “He’s full of it. You know that, right?”
“You sound pretty confident but I’m not so sure,” he chuckled as he closed the bottle and tossed it back into her bag.
“If he was going to kill you, he totally would have done it already.”
“That’s…that’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”
She laughed as she pressed her palms flat against his chest and pressed a light kiss to his lips, “Just relax. Who knows when we’re going to be able to all have a fun day together.”
“And what are you going to spend your fun day doing? Besides assaulting people with sunblock?”
She gave him a playful shove, “Shut up. I’m gonna go fucking swimming, duh. I haven’t been to the beach in ages,” she paused, tilting her head slightly, “What’re you gonna do?”
“Watch you swim,” a smirk crept across his face.
She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. It’d been an interesting, and slightly bumpy, road for the two of them to get to where they were at now. But she was happy about it, about him. And despite the constant pushback from her father, there was a certain type of ease and comfort that came from being with him. She knew that she wouldn’t have ever been able to be with someone who didn’t understand the type of life she lived, and no one understood it better than a man who was actually SAMCRO. But as she stood there looking at him, smiling with a few streaks of sunscreen still on his cheeks, he was more than just a guy from the MC. She never knew what it felt like to date someone who was your best friend until then.
She snapped herself out of her sappy thoughts with a shake of her head, “Don’t let my dad catch you leering.”
“I thought you said he was full of it?”
“I mean,” she laughed as she skipped off towards the water, “nothing is a hundred percent.”
He shook his head and watched her as she took off to go swim and cause whatever kinds of trouble she could manage to stir up along the way. Being with a Trager was a lot of things, but it was certainly never boring.
The afternoon sun was beating down on all of them. Most of them had found their way back to their chairs and towels and started digging into the food and drinks that they had brought with them. Tawnie was camped out on her towel, watching the volleyball game that was happening. Her father and Opie were pitted against Jax and Kozik, and to all of their credit it was shaping up to be a pretty competitive game. But she did notice the fact that Tig’s shoulders were getting redder and redder as the minutes went by—clearly he hadn’t put any extra sunscreen on except what she had forced on him. She shook her head silently, a smug smile creeping across her face. He’d have to learn the hard way, the way that he did with most things.
“Game point!” she called out before taking a sip of her beer.
“Better win this one for your girl, Kozik,” Jax quipped with a laugh.
She chuckled but she could see it on her father’s face that he was not at all amused by the comment. He dove, saving the ball from hitting the sand. There was now a new level of determination and desire to win. He never wanted Kozik to win at anything, but now there was an extra layer on top of it all.
The four of them were going back and forth for a while. Tawnie sat back, unable to hide the fact that she was incredibly impressed by them. Her eyes went wide when she saw Kozik jump up, spiking the ball down onto the other side of the net with an incredible amount of force. She couldn’t contain her laughter as she started clapping.
“Way to bring it home!” she beamed over at him.
“Lucky shot,” Tig said, already shaking his head.
Despite the tension that had been present during the game, once it was over everything went back to business as usual, which Tawnie was incredibly thankful for.
Tig was walking ahead, talking to Jax and Opie while she hung back with Kozik. She slipped her hand into his as they walked, smiles on both of their faces.
“You think it’s alright that I didn’t let him win?” he asked with a smirk.
She laughed, nodding, “It’s good for him. I’m thinking of it as karma for not using sunblock.”
“I think the blisters that are gonna be on his shoulders tomorrow will be karma enough.”
“Maybe,” she laughed, leaning against his side.
He glanced down at her, admiring her still-damp hair and the little patches of sand that were still stuck to parts of her stomach and arms. She looked so at home at the beach, and he had never felt more at home than when he felt her pressed up against his side.
“We should do this shit more often,” he said as they walked along the shore, waves lapping at their feet.
“Yea, well,” she chuckled, “When you guys take a break from your life of crime, we can do big family beach days whenever you want.”
“I’ll bring it up in church next time.”
She laughed, “Well,” she lifted their interlocked hands and kissed his knuckles, “you gotta let me know how that conversation goes.”
“If I live through it, you’ll be the first to know,” he smiled as he wrapped an arm around her waist.
The sound of Tig’s voice cut through the softness of their moment, “Hey! I said no hands below the shoulders!”
#soa#soa imagine#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy imagine#kozik#herman kozik#kozik x oc#herman kozik x oc#oc tawnie#oc tawnie trager#my writing#july prompts#fanfiction#drabblesmc
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Lover - Percy Jackson x Fem!reader
SUMMARY: You’ve crushed on Percy for years, him on the other hand? It’s more of a recent development. That doesn’t mean he likes you any less.
(Older Percy & reader - they're like 21) ALSO idk perfectly what happens in trials of apollo so let’s just ✨ignore that ✨ & this isn’t sexual despite what the title may suggest
WORD COUNT: 2.7k
A/N: hi friends this is for @fromthewatertribe ‘s 1k follower event!! Im sure most of you have but if not definitely check out their work!! Its soooo good I promises and ugh their Leo fic?! *chefs kiss* anyway idk if this is any good oop I tried
PROMPTS USED: 9 & 11. (they’re bolded)
WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of ptsd & anxiety, kissing stuff lol ish eh idk, mentions of percabeth breakup?? Does that count?
MASTERLIST: here!
An obnoxiously red and orange light filters into the motel room, even with the old and tattered curtains closed, the motels’ sign conquers its way through the fabric. Sighing you flop yourself on the faded, probably twenty-year-old bed. Nose scrunching as some dust raises into the air, consequently letting out a sneeze.
“Bless you.”
“Did you just bless yourself?”
You winced at the reminder someone else was in the room, exhausted after the two-day travel to a motel room in the middle of whoop. “Yeah…”
“You really are something, aren’t you?” At the calm amusement evident in his tone, your heart rate began to slow down. He didn’t think you were crazy.
You let out a breathy laugh. Wow, I wonder how those stains got on the ceiling? Lava monster perhaps? Are those even a thing? Probably.
“Yeah… well, someone has to Jackson.” You glance towards him, he’s sitting at the small, poor excuse of a dining table. Heart rate picking up again as he gives you a small smile, already having his eyes on you this entire time.
“If I don’t, who will?” you continue.
“Touché. In that case, I’ll do the blessing from now on; you deserve a break.” Shooting you a wink. Instantly feeling flustered at his action, you fight the urge to cover your face with your hands.
Oh, Percy, if only you knew you’ve already been blessing me for the past six years.
“Even say…. If we’re in a battle?” you muse.
He gets up from the table and walks towards you. Once he reaches your side of the queen bed, he kneels, grabbing the hand closest to him, while putting his other on top of his heart. “Oh, y/n l/n, even with my dying breath.”
With that, you burst into a fit of laughter. This boy and his sarcasm.
You play along. “Hmmm what a great tale that will be. The one and only, Perseus Jackson, spending his final breath on sweet old y/n l/n. How dare you burden me with such a legacy to live up to! They’ll think I’m your lover, you know. Demigods all around the world will come searching for me, just to gawk at the beauty that stole your heart.”
At this point, Percy has fallen from his kneeling position, completely lying on the ground, overcome with laughter.
“This isn’t funny, Percy! How am I supposed to live with the guilt of knowing I don’t live up to their expectations?! I’m hardly a warrior either, oh the disappointment.”
Gasping for breath, he manages to find his words, “Don’t stress it y/n, you’re plenty beautiful. I just know they’ll all be stunned by your beauty. Don’t sell yourself short… trust me, once they see you, they’ll be envious that my lover was so enraptured by me that you’ll never be able to love again.”
Now it was your turn to laugh. Would that be so bad?
Gasping for breath, eventually, both of your laughs die down, leaving you both breathing heavily. “C’mon Percy, let’s get some sleep. Its going to be a long week of scouting for demigods if we’re tired.”
As Percy nods, silently getting up to go to the bathroom to change, but he can’t help but think to himself that he wouldn’t mind if he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with you. No matter how long.
It had been three days since you and Percy arrived in the town you continuously fail to remember the name of. It wasn’t the only thing you were failing at doing either, because it seemed that for some unknown reason, the school that was supposed to arrive here for their camping trip still hadn’t shown up.
“We should send an Iris message to camp. It doesn’t look like they’re showing up any time soon, and by the looks of things, we’re going to need to have them send someone for more supplies.”
Percy sighed, looking out the window. Was this the opportunity he was looking for? Maybe… he knew he’d be a stupid fool to pass it up. Swept up in his new thoughts, he never replied. “Percy?”
Without even looking at you, he nodded, turning to go to the bathroom, “Yeah sure, I’ll go into the bathroom and make the call.”
Humming in acknowledgement as he left the room, you couldn’t help but stare at the spot he was previously standing in from your position on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t look too good.
For such a great hero, you wondered if this quest was doing him any good. After the first day of scouting the campsite, it was obvious he was already antsy to get home. It seemed no matter how light you tried to keep the atmosphere; it was like something was weighing on his mind. Mostly when you were both in the motel room together, you supposed it was because he barely went on quests nowadays. Understandably so, after all, who could blame him for wanting a break and spend time with his family? This made you feel immensely guilty since you could never give him words of truly understanding what he’s gone through. You’d arrived at camp a few days before him, yet over the years you were never sent onto a major quest. It upset you greatly at first, but you grew to appreciate your time at camp.
Before your mind could delve further into its guilt and self-pity, Percy re-entered the room, sitting next to you with a huff. “It’s all good. They’re going to send Leo with some extra supplies, and he’ll help us for the rest of this quest.”
Accidentally getting swept up in how pretty his eyes were, you tensed up, realising he was staring at you expectantly. Quickly nodding and clearing your throat you looked down to your lap, “ahh, okay that sounds good. I guess we’ll have time to sightsee or something…”
Sightsee? Really y/n? There’s nothing in this stupid town!
An awkward silence filled the room. Due to your previous thoughts, you were unsure how to proceed. This was the first time you were alone with him and had nothing else better to do.
Percy on the other hand, found that the obvious swooning look in your eyes was his green light. “Uhhh actually y/n?”
Oh, please don’t ask me why I basically just drooled all over you for NO FUCKING REASON. Snapping your head back up to look at him, you desperately tried to ignore the pounding in your chest that managed to find its way into your ears, “yeah?”
“There’s something I want to ask you.”
Holy shit he knows, doesn’t he? He knows I’ve liked him this entire time, and he’s going to reject me even though I never even said anything!
“I uhm… look I know we’re kind of on a small quest and all but technically we ARE waiting for Leo and the school to arrive before we continue… and you know we kind of have like at least a day or two until then so I was just wondering…”
“Yeah, Percy? You can just say it, you know; I really don’t mind.” I do mind, but please get this over with before I cry. With your heart rate increasing at an alarming rate and face heating up so much, you wanted Zeus to blast you right then and there.
Percy felt like he was about to puke, he’d never felt this nervous before. Yeah, he had his moments growing up with Annabeth, after all, she was his first girlfriend, but this was different. He wanted this to be different. Sure, he never regretted their relationship, and yes, he knew he’d always remember everything they went through- what he went through but… he wanted a clean slate. He desperately just wanted nothing more than to know that there was at least one person in his life that wasn’t constantly fighting for their lives—someone who didn’t have to live with as much trauma as him.
“W- would you maybe... Gods, do you want to have dinner tomorrow night? Maybe at the diner further into the town?”
HOLY FUCK.
He was interested and honestly, you were over the moon. Breathing out the breath you were holding in, you fail to hide the smile on your face, “yeah, I’d like that.”
His face instantly broke out into a wide smile matching yours. “Wait really?”
Unable to hold back a small giggle, you nodded, “yeah, Percy.”
Staring at yourself in the mirror, you admire the blue dress you found in a charity shop this morning while Percy was sleeping. I can’t believe this is happening.
If you had old even more awkward 15-year-old y/n that you were about to go on a date with the boy you admired from your table during meals (when he was there), you would’ve laughed. Mainly because at that point, he didn’t even know you existed, only having your first conversation during the battle of Manhattan when you were helping Will.
Okay… lets do this.
Walking out of the bathroom, Percy is already sitting on the bed in his usual t-shirt, jeans and converse waiting for you.
“Woah… You look uh-” Never finishing his statement, worry bubbled in your chest.
“Oh, uhm… I- I can change if you’d like?
Jumping up from his place on the bed, his head shook quickly. “NO! N-no don’t do that.”
“Ah uhm… okay? Sorry, it’s just I saw it in a store earlier and uhm… it looked nice, and I just thought that maybe it’d be cool to maybe put in a bit more effort? I mean… not that you don’t look good or anything! I love what you wear, you always look nice! but I don’t know… I don’t get to look nice much and… I just wanted it to be kinda special since we don’t get to… well our lives don’t really grant us these opportunities very often. Or at least for me anyway…”
“Hey, no, it’s okay! I totally get it… you look beautiful.” After hearing your small confession and thought to prepare for your date, his heart felt like it was melting. How could someone be so thoughtful when all he was doing was taking you to a rundown diner who probably only served mediocre burgers?
A small wave of guilt washed through him. Feeling like he would never be able to truly sweep you off your feet or give you that sweet, tooth-rotting love and affection, every day, just like you deserved. After everything, he knew he could try his best but even then, he’d never be able to hide the anxiety or PTSD he had acquired over the years.
You looked up to him with a smirk. “Glad to hear it, lover.”
Cheeks heating up at your comment, he laughed trying to play it off as cool as possible. Taking a step closer to you and flattening his shirt as if it would wipe away its wrinkles, he held out his arm. “Shall we, lover?”
Matching his level of fake sophistication, you linked your arm with his, “with pleasure.”
And with that, you both walked out of the motel, with hopeful spirits. To any onlooker, you both looked like normal young adults.
“Where the fuck are you?!” Percy’s voice boomed from his end of the phone, supposedly made without any monster risks.
You winced, slowly and cautiously walking your way out of the forest. The once clean dress was now covered in dirt and had few tears. It went perfectly with your dishevelled, twig and leaf infested hair.
“Space doesn’t really exist, so I’m nowhere. Life is built on social constructs and, since there’s no way to know if we’re really alive or if it’s just an illusion, I can’t be anywhere.”
“Y/n.”
Okay, he was concerned, and you couldn’t blame him. After all, how did you expect him to react after getting separated from you as you were chased into the woods by an Empousai after dinner?
Romance at its finest.
“Yeah, sorry, I got caught up, but I’ll be there soon.”
Ending the call, you couldn’t help but feel guilty as you replayed the events that just occurred in your head. The date was amazing. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was still sweet. Which led you both to go on one of those cliché night walks. That was nice too, until two Empousai came out of the forest and decided to attack you both.
Percy being…. Well Percy, he swiftly got out riptide and didn’t hesitate to defend the two of you. You, on the other hand, were completely caught off guard only just noticing as one of them turned their focus on you while Percy was distracted.
And what did you do like the perfectly trained demigod you were?
You ran like a headless chicken into the forest.
After a few minutes of running, they tackled you into the ground. Trying and failing failed to shove them off, you suddenly remembered the dagger you strapped to your thigh under your dress and stabbed them.
Clearly not your proudest moments.
Finally making it back to the room, you unlocked the door and let out a huff of relief. “Well… that date didn’t go as expected.”
Percy, took in your current state staring at you with wide eyes… but he didn’t say anything. Is he angry at me? Fuck now he’s going to call off whatever this is, all because I’m an incompetent idiot! I knew I should have tried harder in the sparring activities at camp.
Feeling highly intimidated under his intense stare, you began to play with the hem of your dress, voice going quiet. “Look I uh- I know it probably wasn’t the date you were hoping for but I uhm-“
Before you could even finish your poor excuses, your words are soon lost entirely. Percy stalked towards you with a determined look on his face. Reaching you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your face, smashing his lips onto yours.
You let out a small, muffled squeak of surprise as your eyebrows shot up into Olympus. Yet unlike your fighting skills, this was something you managed to adapt to at a faster pace.
Eyes fluttering closed, you fisted his shirt, pulling him closer.
Please don’t let this be a dream.
Because Gods forbid if this your one chance, you weren’t letting this moment end that easily.
Moving your lips against his, the urgency he came onto you with slowly began to dissipate, feeling his soft, but slightly chapped lips move against yours. Deepening the kiss, you let go of his shirt, gliding your hands up his tense torso and along his strong arms, eventually placing your hands on his wrists that were on either side of your face. Applying a small amount of pressure to the inside of his wrists with your thumbs, his mind began to drift into a calming haze as you softly stroked them. It was almost as if you were able to brush away the worry that bubbled in him when he got back to the room, only to find you weren’t there. Yet here you were… safe.
It was intoxicating and calming having him so close to you, his entire being overcoming your senses to a point where you fought the urge to let out a small whimper when he pulled away.
Resting his forehead against yours, chest rising and falling heavily flushed against you; he continued to hold you in his warm embrace. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He whispers, breath fanning against your face.
Because as much as Percy was afraid he’d let you down, he knew no matter what you were worth every single risk.
“…but I’m going to have to teach you a few things when we get back to camp. We can’t have my lover running away in battle all the time, how will I know if you sneeze?”
Letting out a snort, you playfully hit his chest. “Anything for you, lover.”
A soft smile graces his face as he looks at you adoringly as the word takes on a whole new meaning… because you were right. He’d do anything.
A/N: whelp! i hope you all liked it :)) its not perfect but oh well?
also i dont have a percy jackson taglist but i gotta tag the holy grail of fic writers for this fandon eep @cabinofimagines 🙈 🙈
Divider credit: @biskit-rising
#percy jackson#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x y/n#pjo#pjo fandom#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson fic#percy jackson x fem!reader#annabeth#annabeth chase#leo valdez#heros of olympus#hoo#nina's 1k event#pjo x reader#hoo x reader#percy jackson fluff#percy jackson angst
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Alt Ending, Part 5
Hot take but finals kinda suck
First part
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Tag: @solangelo252
You’d think her body would be grateful that she was finally giving it food, but no. She put it in her mouth and instantly felt nauseous. It didn’t even want to go down her throat, and keeping it there felt basically impossible.
But Tim had looked so happy when she had tried, so she forced it down.
(Well, she forced some of it down. If he noticed that a good amount of the food she brought to her mouth actually disappeared into the sleeves and folds of her dress he didn’t say anything.)
Tim started coming by three times a day with food after that. She didn’t complain despite her discomfort, she had really missed him.
Also, he looked stressed out and/or exhausted whenever she saw him. She worried about him. They both had a tendency to overwork themselves when they hit blocks, hell she’d sometimes joined him in his week-long deep dives into cases, but now that she was an outsider looking in… she was kind of shocked she’d ever let it get that far for either of them. When was the last time he’d slept through the night? Taken proper time to clean himself, even? A while, she guessed from the deep bags under his eyes and the way his hair was frayed from running his fingers through it.
“Timmy,” she chirped.
He flashed her a tiny smile. “Hey,” he said, coming over and taking a seat beside her on the bed.
She took the bag from him and set it aside, much to his dismay, but then she reached over and dragged him into some cuddles and he suddenly had new concerns. He groaned into her shoulder.
“Bean, come on, I don’t want to sleep.”
She didn’t let go. “You need to.”
“Don’t have time.”
She rolled her eyes, bringing a hand up to start attempting to smooth out his hair. “You have to sleep eventually.”
“And I do!”
She didn’t answer, which he took to mean she didn’t believe him (a good assumption, she didn’t).
“I do! I get at least a few hours a week.”
“Wow, amazing. I take it back. You totally have a healthy sleep schedule.”
“Worry about yourself, first. You don’t sleep either,” he huffed, but he was starting to relax into her hold nonetheless.
“I’m also literally dead.”
“You used to say you’d sleep when you were dead.”
Marinette scoffed. “Well, to be fair, I thought I’d actually die when I died.”
He gave a short laugh, and she opted not to acknowledge that it was a little forced.
She yawned and laid back with his face in her shoulder. “I’m surprised none of the others have drugged you to get you to sleep yet.”
“They’re too busy drugging B --.” He winced just slightly. “They’ve just got a lot on their plates is all, I’m the least of their worries.”
She didn’t say anything about his tiny slip up, just gave a light hum to say she understood.
She didn’t dare to move until she was completely sure he had nodded off. Even then, she only did so to pick up the food he’d brought for her.
Her nose scrunched a little at the prospect of eating, but when she opened it and saw it was fried rice she perked up a little. She nibbled at her food.
Honestly, she didn’t know if it was working. It seemed to be, but then again most of the things that got better could be attributed to other causes. Her skin was gaining color again, but the bleach may have just started to wear out. She was feeling more energized, but then again she was now getting a total of four cups of coffee a day thanks to Tim and Jason fueling her addiction. Exercise was getting easier and she was packing on muscle again, but she was also working out enough with Dick for it to be explainable that way…
She didn’t know if it was working. She didn’t even know if she WANTED it to work. The plan had been ‘kill Bruce and then quickly off yourself before the others can react’ and not having an instant out was kinda problematic when it came to finishing that plan.
Not that the first part of that plan was working out for her, either. Bruce still hadn’t come to see her. She doubted he ever would at this point.
She didn’t even have a way out, as the door was automated and presumably opened by someone outside.
No. The only way she would ever leave was if she managed to ‘fix’ herself, and that wasn’t happening because there was nothing to fix! She would know. Her entire thing as Ladybug was fixing things.
She looked down at Tim. When he slept all the little wrinkles in his forehead smoothed to make him look much younger. She smiled a little at the sight, pressing a kiss to where she knew the creases usually were.
At least, even if her situation couldn’t be helped, she could still help others.
~
She’d come to expect a routine of sorts, so the moment it was broken even slightly her brain short-circuited.
Duke stood in the doorway as usual, but when she glanced past him…
“Where’s Cass?”
His grin disappeared a little, but he pulled his back to his face with ease. “Wow, I’m really feeling the love here, Mari.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please, we both know Cass is the best person to ever exist.”
Duke nodded his agreement and came over to take a seat next to her. She cozied up to him as usual, curled under his arm as he pulled up their newest show on his laptop…
She had a lot of thoughts about Cass being missing.
On the one hand, she just missed her friend’s too-warm body pressed up against her and quiet complaints about how the actors were doing it all wrong.
On the other hand… Marinette was completely aware that they had Cass stopping by as much as she did to check on Marinette, to see if they were making any real progress with her. Cass was a human lie detector, able to detect when someone was going to be dishonest before they’d even realized it themselves, and they’d be stupid not to take advantage that. So, the fact that they were no longer making Cass drop in as often… either they thought she was doing better, or that she never would do better.
Marinette hoped it was the first. She knew it was the second.
She found it harder than usual to enjoy Duke’s snide comments about how dumb and cliche some of the characters were. She turned and pressed her face into his side. The glasses on the bridge of her nose dug into her skin.
Fuck. She was never getting out of there, was she?
She felt his free hand come up to run through her hair and she sighed.
“Duke…”
He pressed pause on the show.
“Tim told me you’re a meta, that you can control light. Can you do it for me?”
There was a beat.
“Why do you ask?”
She laughed a little. “Does it matter? Can’t I just be curious about why my favorite brother didn’t even bother to tell me that he has powers?”
“I thought you already knew. It’s common knowledge.”
She huffed. “Maybe I just prefer to be told things than meticulously look through every piece of information to figure it out.”
“What kind of bat are you?” He joked.
She winced and the hand in his shirt balled it just a fraction tighter. She didn’t respond.
There was a few seconds before he sighed and moved his hand from his hair to her chin, gently pulling her face out of where it was hidden in his side. She refused to meet his eyes.
It was silent again, neither of them sure what to say.
“Here,” he said after a moment, putting his free hand out and making light dance across his palm.
Her face lit up, literally and figuratively, at the sight of the tiny ball of light. She leaned a little closer.
“Aw, it looks like a tiny sun!”
He laughed a little. “Yeah. I can also…”
There was a moment of silence as he concentrated and the tiny ball of light split into the colors of the rainbow. She giggled, reaching out to cup his hand in hers. It was the first non-artificial light she’d seen in months, the first rainbow she’d seen since… Paris, actually.
Well, even if she wouldn’t ever see the outside world again, at least she could still have this little fake sun. It was basically the same, just as good, she told herself. She ignored the tears rolling down her cheeks that were telling her otherwise.
~
She tossed the plastic spoon she’d stolen from one of her meals in the air idly.
The plan had been to turn it into Baby’s First Shank but that probably wasn’t going to work out. Pen to the throat was at about a .01% chance of working, attacking him with a spoon-knife needed a few more zeroes added to that already insanely small number. She gave it a .000000001% chance at best.
Then again, the other option was trying to strangle someone who had an insane height and weight advantage to death before someone else could interfere...
She sighed to herself and put the spoon in her teeth, starting to pull.
She didn’t get very far before she heard the metallic whoosh of the door opening and she barely glanced up to see Dick.
He stared at her from the doorway, his eyebrows slowly raising as he watched her attempt to bite an edge into a spoon of all things.
She pulled it from her mouth with a ‘pop’.
“I think your eyebrows are trying to escape,” she told him.
He blinked at her before rolling his eyes and walking inside fully. “Thanks for the assist. Would have lost them otherwise,” he said sarcastically.
“I’ve seen you lose your phone three minutes after putting it down, Dickie, I wouldn’t put it past you.”
He gasped and rested a hand over her heart. “You think that low of me?”
“Lower. I was being nice.”
Dick pouted and walked over to the bed. She didn’t think much of it until he was diving onto her stomach. She put her hands out in an attempt to soften the blow, but it wasn’t enough to save her. She groaned in pain as his extremely hard head made contact with her not-so-hard stomach.
“FUCK. This is why your parents called you Dick, y’know!”
He only laughed at her.
Despite herself, she gave him a smile.
She rested her head back in the pillows for a moment (mostly just to catch all the breath she’d lost) before pushing him off. “Ready?”
He groaned into her comforter before rolling onto the floor. “‘Kay.”
Marinette grinned as she took a seat beside him, starting her usual stretches. He pushed himself up to sit with minimal groaning and started working on his shoulders.
It was quiet for a while as they stretched.
Marinette bit the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes on her foot when she spoke next: “Dick?”
She could feel his gaze on her.
“I… can I have some more stuff? Everything here is so boring. I just… I want new things to do. Or, at least, new things to look at.”
There was a long silence between them. Anxiety bubbled under her skin. She switched legs so she could gauge his expression through her bangs. His expression was carefully neutral.
She cringed.
“Obviously I’m not ungrateful! You guys have all been really nice and accommodating! I get food and a phone and, honestly, that’s fine --!”
“Mari!”
Her mouth snapped closed.
“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. Anyone would be bored here. I can talk to them. It’ll probably depend on what you want.”
She finally looked at him properly, eyes wide. She really hadn’t been expecting that to work.
He slowly pulled his legs to him to sit criss-cross applesauce, head resting on his hand. “I can probably get some baking things, a sketchbook, just blunt objects in general. Deadly, but not before someone could get there.”
Marinette nodded her understanding, a smile making its way across her face.
“You’re the best.”
“You constantly say Duke and Cass are the best.”
She was torn between agreeing with herself and flattering him. Since she wanted something, she decided on flattery: “That was, like, a few hours ago. I’ve grown since then. You’re my favorite now, Dickie.”
“Can I get that as my ringtone?”
“Only if you only use it to mess with Jay.”
“Deal.”
They shook on it.
~
The door whoosed open and she barely moved her head to look at it.
She froze.
Bruce?
No. No way. There was no way in hell.
But was there? Cass HAD stopped coming. Maybe she had somehow convinced them that everything was working out and everything was fine.
Marinette hadn’t done anything differently, though, so that probably wasn’t it…
Oh. Oh shit.
Maybe she was actually going insane. Because there was no way the bats would have made that kind of mistake by letting Bruce in when she was still intent on murdering him. He had to be a hallucination, because nothing else really made sense. Kwami, Tim was going to be SO smug about this one.
Actually, no, he didn’t have to know.
Her gaze slipped away from Fake Bruce and back to the dots on her ceiling. Because, as everyone knows, that if you don’t acknowledge hallucinations they go away…
“Marinette,” Fake Bruce said, trying to trick her into outing herself as losing it.
“Marinette,” he tried again, starting his way over.
She did her best to ignore the footsteps and the way the bed shifted when he sat down. No wonder schizophrenics fell for this shit, this was all so real…
Except... weren’t schizophrenics not supposed to be able to tell what was real and what wasn’t? Wouldn’t her knowing (thinking?) he was fake be an indication that he was actually real? Or was that just her mind trying to justify believing it?
Marinette bit inside of her cheek and let herself look at Fake Bruce again.
He cracked a smile for her. A hand reached over and pushed some hair away from her face. “Hey,” he said.
She hesitated.
It would suck if this all was fake, the others would get confirmation and she really wouldn’t have a way out. But if it was real then this was her only shot. If it was real Cass would be watching the cameras to see what she was thinking and she would know for sure that Marinette was still intent on killing Bruce…
Fuck.
Marinette pushed herself into a sitting position and looked Maybe-Bruce up and down before grabbing him by the front of his suit and pulling him into a hug. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes when he hugged her back.
“Fake.”
The man tensed underneath her and then sighed as he pulled back.
He gave her an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, Marinette.”
She shook her head slightly and fell back. With a flick of her wrists the knife she’d created out of her plastic spoon was in her hands and she absently tossed it at the hallucination. Either it would make him disappear or it would look like it stabbed him and she could pretend that it actually happened.
But then it didn’t do either of those things.
Her eyebrows knit together when the spife shattered upon impact.
He looked unconcerned as he gently swept all the pieces into his hand and then put them in his pockets.
“The fuck?”
“Language,” he chided lightly.
She grinned. “You really need to work on your ‘Bruce’. Accepting a hug that quickly is one thing but chiding someone for language? In OUR family? I’m pretty sure he gave that up by Jason.”
The man chuckled and shook his head. “I’m Superman.”
“Oh.” She blinked a few times before shrugging to herself. “Okay. You look just like Bruce. It’s kinda creepy.”
“Yeah, trust me, we know. It’s pretty helpful, though. One time a person tried to assassinate Bruce and ended up fighting me. It wasn’t their day.”
She smiled a little, but it didn’t last very long. She fell back in her pillows and glared at the ceiling. “This sucks.”
“I’m sorry this all happened to you. You’re just a kid.”
She rolled her eyes. She’d long-since given up on denying that something had happened to her. Not because she no longer believed it, but because it wasn’t worth the effort. No one ever believed her when she said it.
(Could she blame them? No. She almost believed it herself just a few moments before. Still annoying, though.)
Instead of saying any of that, though, she brought a grin to her face.
“You and B should switch houses for April Fools. See if anyone notices anything.”
~
She really should have noticed something was up when her coffee didn’t energize her at all.
It had all been going fine. She was making Jason dispose of all the pieces of food she’d used sleight of hand to get away with not eating (she was still a little bitter about him stealing her pen and this was the most she could really do to get back at him, compromised as she was). They made idle conversation, mostly just about how Damian had got himself a new pet cat that he had named BatCat (though, apparently, they had heard him slip up and call him Charles a few times). They debated over how good that name was and the merit of Jason’s suggestion -- BatPussy, of course -- as she drank her third cup of coffee of the day.
It was about halfway through her drink that she began to notice that something was off. She squinted at Jason suspiciously.
“Decaf?” She asked, her voice worryingly sweet.
He raised his eyebrows and tried to look unimpressed despite stepping back a good half-step. “Please, if it was decaf classical conditioning still would’ve made it work at least a little.”
She opened her mouth to retort, then realized he was right. Or, at least, she was pretty sure. She couldn't seem to think of anything against it.
She frowned, looking down at her drink again and swirling the contents around. She drank the rest of it, trying to figure out why exactly it wasn’t working.
Was she already at the point where caffeine had little effect on her again? She didn’t think she was that bad yet… hell, she probably couldn’t be because she was depending on others to give her her fix…
She shook her head slightly and then quickly realized that was a bad idea. Pain stabbed through her skull and she stumbled into Jason. The plastic thermos slipped from her fingertips and went rolling across the floor. Her head crashed into his chest and arms were quick to wrap around her.
“You got shitty coffee, try a different place next time,” she murmured, closing her eyes.
He laughed a little. “Yeah, okay, kid. I’ll be sure to do that.”
She nodded as much as her headache would allow and felt the arms around her slip down to pick her up. She blinked her eyes open blearily and regretted it when the light attempted to murder her via knife to the head.
Heh. Little light particles with little knives.
Wait.
Did she get a concussion? Somehow? Without getting hit?
She buried her face in his shoulder and it was then, as he set her in bed and tucked her in, that she realized what had happened.
“Bitch,” she murmured above whatever drug they had put in her drink.
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and she could do little more than scrunch up her nose and vaguely wave him off. Her eyes fell closed again.
~
Marinette woke up a while later.
The first thing she noticed was that the lights were dimmer, something she didn’t have to open her eyes to see because her head wasn’t pounding as much.
Then she realized a person was with her. They had entwined themselves around her, tangled their limbs with hers. They needn’t have bothered, everything felt like lead. She wouldn’t be moving for quite some time.
… why was she being held down? Oh no. That was probably bad, huh?
Marinette made a sound in the back of her throat and started trying to shift away from the person pressed against her back. She needed to see who they were. They didn’t bother to tighten their hold on her, she wasn’t really getting anywhere.
In fact, a hand stopped holding her down. Instead, it came up to pet her hair.
Oh? This was nice.
A voice by her head told her it was all okay. After a moment she realized she recognized that voice. She smiled sleepily. Cass. She liked Cass. She pressed closer to her and was rewarded with a hand rubbing up and down one of her arms.
She nearly fell asleep again. Cass was safe, Marinette was safe… the warmth against her and the soothing touch… of course, it certainly helped that the drug was still in her system and she was exhausted...
But then her mind wandered back to her first question. Why WAS Cass holding her down? Why did they drug her in the first place?
She moved so her hair could block some of the light and then cautiously cracked her eyes open.
The batboys were all moving things inside almost silently. Jason was carrying an entire fridge on his own. Dick and Damian were arguing over the positioning of the table they had just brought in through angry hand motions. Tim and Duke were working together on… was that a gaming set?
And she was being held down because the door was wide open.
Marinette looked at the doorway for just a moment longer. She allowed herself to imagine getting out and swinging through the city with her lasso, allowed herself to pretend she could lay in the grass, allowed herself to believe that she could see the sun and the stars and just breathe fresh air again…
And then she closed her eyes and sunk into Cass’s grip.
What was the point in trying? Even if she could somehow beat out all six of the people in the room with her and get past whatever security Bruce had to have outside of the room all while drugged… then what? No money or idea where she was… and she’d be running from the bats of all people…
Yeah. Useless. She curled up and allowed sleep to take her again.
~
Quite a while later she woke up and blinked a few times when she realized she wasn’t the only person in bed. At first she thought it was just Cass or Tim, they were the most likely culprits, but then she realized everyone had managed to cram themselves onto the bed with her. Her and Cass had gotten brushed to the side of the bed to make space for Tim, Dick, and Damian. Jason had collapsed across the end of the bed -- presumably for space, but Duke was laying half on top of him so that obviously hadn’t worked out.
Marinette smiled faintly and buried her face back into the crook of Tim’s neck.
~
When she woke up again, most of the drug flushed from her system (somehow…?), she thought she was alone.
This was fine. She was able to stretch out and sit up.
She blinked when she saw Damian, who was sitting on her floor and playing a video game.
Huh? Video game?
She looked around her room confusedly. The bats had basically made her a one-room apartment, complete with kitchenette and a tiny study area. Of course, it was much higher quality than the apartment she’d had, with a high tech gaming system and a little dining area and holy shit that was a MINI LIBRARY?
Wild.
“You’re finally up.”
She hummed lightly as an agreement. She crawled over to the end of the bed and smiled when he handed her a twizzler. It was objectively one of the worst candies, but she liked having something to do. She twirled it in her hand idly.
“Do you think… do you think it’s working?”
She frowned confusedly and dropped off the bed to sit beside him on the second beanbag chair. She chanced a quick glance in his direction to gauge how he was feeling... his expression didn’t let anything on other than that he was thinking hard, though she was pretty sure that was about the game.
“Gonna elaborate on that?”
He clicked his tongue. “Are you going to join the Undead Robins Club?”
She grinned at him. “I wasn’t a Robin.”
“You know what I mean.”
Her smile disappeared a little and she trained her eyes on the game. “I don’t know.”
“You know we never will know for sure, right?”
She blinked. She hadn’t expected anyone to acknowledge it. They were the bats, they were never going to chance taking off her glasses because if they were wrong and she WASN’T better… well, it wasn’t the kind of mistake they could easily come back from.
“Yeah, I know,” she said after a few moments.
“Do you care?”
“Doesn't really matter if I do. It won’t change anything.”
He frowned. “That’s not answering my question.”
She bit her cheek. “I… yes. I care. It still doesn’t matter.”
He looked like he was going to argue, but instead he just went back to playing the game.
“Damiiiiiiiii…” she whined and, when he gave a vague grunt to show he was paying attention, she continued with “... shouldn’t I get to play first? It’s mine.”
“You slept in too long,” he said without looking up.
She huffed. “Only ‘cause I was drugged!”
“Unfortunate.”
She got off the beanbag chair and whacked him over the head with it. He barely acknowledged it outside of an annoyed click of his tongue.
She huffed and pulled the chair back to herself to sit again. “Is it two player?”
“Nope.”
“You’re a bitch.”
He clicked his tongue again.
She pouted for a little while longer before looking back at the screen with a smile. “... heard you got a cat named Charles. Wanna talk about him?”
Damian’s face lit up. “Can I?”
“Only if you let me play.”
He looked pained. If he gave it to her then he’d be giving her something she’d want, which was a sibling no-no, but if he didn’t then she probably wouldn’t listen to him gush about his cat. A few moments went by before he reluctantly handed over the controller.
She beamed and scooted her chair over to rest her head on his shoulder. She could feel him stiffen underneath her but, when she didn’t move again outside of what was necessary to play the game, he relaxed again.
“I thought you were going to listen,” he chided lightly when she didn’t take a break between levels.
“I can listen and play.”
Damian sighed a little and shook his head.
“You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want --.”
“I’m getting to it! So, he’s a black cat that apparently hadn’t been adopted because everyone thought he was evil so the pet store was going --.”
~
Marinette noticed something was up the minute the door opened.
First of all, it was Duke and Damian. That’s all that really needs to be said. Those two together… it’s never a good thing.
Secondly, they were there as Signal and Robin. Most of the time the others avoided even talking about their lives as vigilantes for fear of setting her off in one way or another, but here they were showing up in their suits? No, something weird was going on.
“Hey, Mari, can we skip a fight and you just put a bag over your head and let us pick you up?” Tried Duke.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “You want to…? Huh?”
“We don’t really have much time to explain. I’ll tell you on the way.”
Damian held up a potato sack and some twine, which really wasn’t all that encouraging.
She hesitated. “... what’s something only you two would know?”
“Really?” Said Damian with more than a little exasperation.
“Hey, we’re all bats here. I’m not moving until you prove you’re who you say you are.”
(Technically, if they were really Duke and Damian, they could fight her and do it anyways. She probably couldn't beat both of them at once. Still, that kind of fight would hurt all of them and she really didn’t want to have to do it at the moment.)
Duke hesitated before shrugging. “Your favorite ice cream flavor is mint. Which I don’t understand. Just brush your teeth if you like that taste so much.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “Alright, you’re who you say you are. Robin?”
“… early on I lied and said that Nightwing’s real hero name was actually BatNightwing to mess with you both.”
She frowned. “I forgot about that. You’re a dick.”
“No, Nightwing’s a Dick. He’s a Damian.”
Marinette was THIS CLOSE to fighting them anyways.
But she didn’t. She was kinda curious about where all this was going. So, she allowed them to bind her hands and slip a bag over her head. Arms wrapped around her -- she didn’t really care who it was -- and she was lifted off the ground. Then, they were walking.
Part of her wondered if this was some kind of test. They were checking to see how compliant she was or how likely she would be to run once outside. Maybe they had Superman on call in case she tried to escape.
She really couldn’t tell.
She didn’t think that they had any reason to take her out of the perfectly safe and well-stocked place they had put her in.
Maybe her location had been compromised and they were moving her to a backup? No, that didn’t make sense. Duke made sense for transport, Damian didn’t. Damian was one of the worst fighters in the family (he was in no way BAD at fighting, of course, it was just a byproduct of being in the game the shortest amount of time and not being a meta) and he was the second most likely person to end up fighting her after Jason. What the fuck?
Wait, Duke said he’d explain on the way.
“What’s going on?”
“New idea on how to bring you back,” said Duke simply.
Well, she guessed that was more information than she’d previously had. She’d take it for now.
She heard a quiet whooshing noise and frowned confusedly, only to feel herself get set down… somewhere. She felt carpeting underneath her, which meant she was in… a house? No. A car, she thought as she noticed the quiet hum of an engine. She’d been put in the fucking trunk. She kicked out as much as she could without knowing exactly where they were and gave a cry of protest, but then the lid was clicked over her head and she was thrown into uncomfortably complete silence.
She scowled to herself. She shouldn’t have thrown her spife at Superman, it would have been really useful right then. She tested the bindings against her hands and winced at how tight they were. Did they really use zip ties? Those were notoriously bad for circulation.
… oh. Yeah. She was dead. That actually wasn’t that bad, then.
Still annoying. Hard to get out of. Assholes. She wondered if it was worth dislocating her arms…
Yeah. Probably. If she could get out then she would be OUT.
She flipped herself onto her stomach. She pulled her feet up to her arms and then started pushing back. Her body strained in protest and she bit down on the front of the bag over her head to stop herself from making any sounds.
And then she felt a pop in her left shoulder and a flare of pain and the makeshift gag wasn’t enough to hold back her sobs. Her arm throbbed and it was only made worse when they reached the city proper and the roads started getting choppy. Every little bump in the road sent a new wave of pain rolling through her and all she could do was ride it out.
They started hitting smoother roads what felt like hours later... it was kind of concerning because she had no clue where they could be, those were uncommon in Gotham, but at least she no longer felt like she was going to die every few seconds.
She took a few seconds to bring her breathing back to normal before she started slowly wiggling her arms out under her butt and legs and then they were in front of her. Great. She picked herself up as much as she could in the tiny space, checked her angle mentally, relaxed her muscles, and then dropped down on her shoulder to get it back in place.
She breathed out a sigh of relief. It felt weird and still kind of hurt but at least it was mostly better.
She pulled the bag off of her head and relished in the slightly fresher air.
She looked down at the zip ties on her wrists and she sighed a little. Time to do that hack that looked stupid but actually worked if the kidnappers were stupid enough to leave you alone.
She brought her feet up, untied the laces of her shoes, and tied them back around the ties. Then she set to work trying to saw at the zip tie.
She paused when she heard the low rumbling of a plane. Were they near an airport? Oh. That was going to be a problem. She went faster.
Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t get very far before there was a click and the trunk opened.
She cried out in pain at the sudden light and squeezed her eyes shut, turning to press her face into the carpeted interior.
Hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the trunk. Before she could do much to look around so she could get her bearings and make herself a portal, the bag was forced over her head again and a strong grip on her arm (the good one, thankfully) kept her from pulling it off again. Then someone knelt in front of her and fixed her shoelaces.
“Really, NightMare?” Duke said, unimpressed.
“In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”
Damian scoffed.
Someone picked her up again and she sighed as they carried her along. They were definitely at an airport. She could hear people milling about. She was sure it was Gotham, too; she could feel a few stares, but most people seemed comfortable with the vigilantes among them.
Then came the normal airport stuff. Walking. Some arguing over whether she counted as luggage or if she could go through the metal detector with them. Sitting. A little chatting with civilians. More walking. More sitting. Very light chatter, just formalities and asking for drinks (Duke, who she figured out was the person carrying her, slipped a box of orange juice up her bag so she could have something). And then they were in the air.
After some time in the air the bag and zip ties were removed. She kept her eyes closed to let them adjust to light naturally and instead focused on rubbing feeling back into her hands.
One English alphabet later, she opened her eyes.
They were in a private plane (or was it a jet?), which explained why it was as quiet as it was. Damian was drinking a glass of water and reading something on his phone. Duke was nibbling at some complimentary pretzels and working a Rubix Cube. They both glanced in her direction from time to time, but they seemed pretty confident that she couldn’t do anything while they were in the air (which was true, but annoying).
She looked around a little more and found that there were no other bats.
“Um… where’re…?” She trailed off, unsure.
They stopped glancing in her direction, ignoring her and her question. The frown that had been on her face since pretty much when they’d first taken her from the room deepened.
“Do they… do they know what’s going on?”
The silence spoke volumes.
She rested her head in her hand. “I’m going to need something stronger than a juice box for this.”
Duke sighed but called a friendly looking woman inside to get her some wine. Marinette and Duke sipped at a glass each (Damian wasn’t allowed any, something Marinette took a little too much joy in). She scrutinized the two over the rim of her glass.
“Are you going to explain or let me guess? Because letting me guess is going to end up with me assuming you’re doing something way worse than you actually are.”
Damian sighed a little. “It’s hard to explain.”
“We’re in a plane. I’m going to guess we have time. Start talking.”
“We drugged them all -- except Orphan, she’s just out doing patrols and won’t know what’s going on for a good few hours -- and grabbed you.”
Duke gave Damian a pleading look to make him continue for them.
Damian, reluctantly, put down his phone to talk. “Signal and I have an idea on how to bring you back from the dead. The others won’t like it, especially not Red Hood, so we’re making the executive decision to not ask.”
Marinette didn’t know a lot about when Jason had been resurrected, it was a sensitive subject so it was avoided pretty much at all costs. All she’d gathered was that it was a rather messy experience for everyone involved.
She rested her head on her hand and then looked back down at her drink. She snatched the bottle from the table and, when Duke protested, set him a glare and started drinking directly from it. They were actually going to bring her back through probably shady means. She was NOT drunk enough for this shit.
~
She got stuffed in a suitcase when they left, which was extremely insulting (and a little embarrassing, if she were honest).
She rested her head against the side of the suitcase and listened to the dull thrum of people talking on the other side. She vaguely recognized the language, both Nino and Damian both spoke it when frustrated, but the words were all Greek to her.
Well, they were all Arabic, but you get the point.
~
She didn’t even realize she had been asleep until she was awoken. Rather abruptly. The zipper for the suitcase was opened and she tumbled out. Marinette cursed in French as she hit the ground and laid there, her entire body aching from not moving for so long. She hadn’t known her face could get pins and needles, she wished she could go back to her blissful ignorance.
“Are you sure about this? You want to save her?” A woman’s voice said above her, sounding a little skeptical.
Marinette forced herself to roll over so she could glare at whoever it was, she knew when she was being insulted, and then she blinked up at the new person.
A tall woman with dark skin and hair and a body to die for stood above her, hands on her hips.
“Holy shit, Dami. You got terrible genes. She’s gorgeous and you’re… you? What?”
Duke hid laughter behind his hand and Damian scoffed.
Amusement flickered behind Talia’s ‘I could kill you before you could even scream’ expression. “I’ve changed my mind. I like her.”
“Cool,” said Marinette as she quickly pushed herself to her feet. Her body wasn’t ready for that, but that was the least of her concerns. The pretty lady was ushering her along and Marinette wasn’t going to hold her up if she could help it.
“How did you die?” Talia said, which was an interesting choice for conversation.
Marinette shrugged, though, unconcerned. “I don’t know, really, there wasn’t this ‘oh, wow, I’m dead’ moment. My guess is I either drowned in acid or died of dehydration at some point. Does it change anything or…?”
“No. Just curious.”
“Oh. Good.”
“... do you not know why you’re here?” Asked Talia carefully after a moment’s contemplation.
Marinette shook her head. “Nah, they’ve been avoiding telling me. I assume it’s painful.”
“... yes. Very.”
The four lapsed into silence after that.
Marinette felt weirdly on edge as they walked through the facility, her hands rubbing the goosebumps that were prickling along her arms. The further they walked, the more on edge she felt. They were approaching something unnatural, something so undeniably WRONG, and she needed to GO.
But Damian and Duke were behind her, probably sensing her unease, and running ahead would only get her there faster… so she walked.
She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to ground herself.
But, the moment they stepped into the room, she froze.
Green water. That apparently hurts.
Acid.
“FUCK.”
Duke was ready for her to run, apparently, stood in front of the only exit and ready for a fight before she could even get a full step away from the hell that awaited her.
“No no no no no no wait it’s fine I actually don’t mind being dead it’s fine guys please --.”
Damian grabbed her arms and she choked out a sob,
“Damian god damn it I was kidding about the mom thing you’re perfectly attractive or whatever I promise I really didn’t think it would hurt you that much we don’t need to do this let’s tALK IT OUT --!”
“It’s not about that --!”
Duke managed to get a hold on one of her legs and lifted and all she had to struggle against either of them was a foot and she was SO fucked --.
“PLEASE DUKE PLEASE I DON’T KNOW WHAT I DID BUT I PROMISE I CAN BE BETTER YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS PLEASE PLEASE LET ME GO I’LL BE FINE WE CAN FIGURE SOMETHING OUT PLEASE --.”
Talia grabbed her last leg and she sobbed as she thrashed around uselessly. They started dragging her towards the acid. Nothing to do no way to run no help in sight no --.
“PLEASE! I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER PLEASE JUST LET ME GO!”
And they did. They let her go and she fell into the acid.
#did i forget what the name of this was at some point#maybe#its whatever#alternate ending#alternative ending#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#harley quinzel#harley quinn#joker#maribat
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OOODAAAA WHY ARE WE ON HIATUS AGAIN AAAAAAAAHHHH
Ok, now that I took that one out the system, at least we have something Komi related for this week!
I would start talking about the recent @zer0cracy 's animation, but I want to talk about something else before that.
And I'm talking about the Komi-san Live Action adaptation.
Ok, listen, I... I don't like any type of anime live action adaptation. Like, at all.
I-I know there are people that enjoy it, and I can only respect the actors that are so passionate about the source material to do this , but... but I don't know ok? There is just something that I can't pintpoint that makes me so annoyed by them for just existing.
And so, when the news of a Komi san Live Action came, I... I honestly grimaced, and prepared myself for the worst. All I could do was hope they would find some actor similar to the cast, and be the most faithfull to the manga possible.
And so, when today on the subreddit r/Komi_san a 5 minutes teaser dropped, I was already expecting my death, unsure if ignoring it or actually acknowledging its existence.
...I sat down, taking a break every 10-30 seconds due to my visceral hate for Live Actions and my love for Komi san battling againts each other making me feel sick. I felt like Odysseus, roped to his ship to hear the siren's song, a victim to my curiosity, just to have some content to release today and now... *sigh* we need to talk.
Mind you: This is not a mindless bashing. I just want to talk about some decisions and my thought on cast members. And just something to talk about waiting for the next Komi-san chapter.
First off, let's talk about Tadano
...who is this guy? I said-
.............*sigh*...........
Ok, so, let's start with the obvious: WHERE IS THE WHITE TURF? Ok maybe this is a conscious choice, to make him even more average. I can... I can still accept it.
But... I'm sorry, I don't see Tadano at all watching him. I can see AT BEST Kometani. And another thing is that (as it can be in the actual trailer, sorry I can't share the link with you all) is... too much expressive. I know, it's a weird thing to say, but one of Tadano's charm is how easy going and calm he constantly is, despite the chaos happening around him. But this version, it's too... fidgy? He moves too much, it's like seeing a Tadano not out of his chunni fase yet. Like, as you can see here-
...ok never mind let's move on and ignore this.
...ehy, wait a minute but behind him there's... hm... maybe it's a coincidence...
In the end, I give this LiveAction!Tadano a 4/10, even below the average. I hope this one was an error in the production of the teaser and he's actually more Tadano-like in the show, but I fear this is not the case. It's not his fault, if it was, I don't know, Naruse, the characterisation would work perfectly, but... this is Tadano...
Also, as we can see here, Tadano crossing the street, I bet that there is going to be a live adaptation of Yamai's kidnapping too.
Live Action Yamai. Rejoice.
Next one is Komi, and... she kinda works?
Loyal enough to the original Komi, the haircut is almost the same, the only thing that miss and it shows is the murder gaze. I guess it's not that easy to do, or easy as I think, but maybe put a little more of spirit?
I don't know, she just looks depressed. And while that's gold for angsty fanfic writers, for an early Komi-san it's not the best. But hey, at least she is similar to Komi! So take this 7/10
Next one is Najimi, and... I don't know what to think of them.
While at first I was outraged for the missing lavander hair and antennas, watching some scenes with them there made this Live Action version grow on me. They bring a nice energy in the scenes, and it's quirky enough for Komi-san, but...
...It's not chaotic enough, and it's a really big problem for a character like Najimi! It's like a chilled Osana in this teaser, and I'm really, really conflicted about it.
So, in true Najimi's fashion, I'll give to this version a ???/10. I have high hopes for you, don't delude me.
Next one is Katai, and...
...I FUCKING LOVED HIM.
This is the only actor by far that I think nailed down the manga character perfectly, he's so over the top and failing at being a delinquent that actually makes me think "yeah, if Katai were a real guy, he would be like him." I would die for this guy. Also the homoerotic tension between him and Tadano are even stronger than the one in the manga so that's a plus too
Explain this, heteroes.
So yeah, LiveAction!Katai deserve the 9/10, get a little more buffer and you'll top the score easily.
And lastly, Naka- no? Ehm... then Yama- no again? But... who else could be here in the class-
........MANBAGI?????
Ok first thing, the actor works for her. She may be not excactly like our Manbagi, but she looks like a ray of sunshine and like Manbagi she seems like a good and lovable girl. I'm sorry that I couldn't add more photos, but trust me, even in the nurse office scene her vibes just worked. I'll give to LiveAction!Manbagi a 8/10.
But now, let's adress the elephant in the classroom.
THEY ADDED THE FIRST YEAR AND SECOND YEAR CLASSROOMS IN ONE SINGLE CLASSROOM AND CALLED IT A DAY.
This is massive!! Like... like I don't even have the wors to describe how much of a big deal this is, butchering the character arc of Komi and Manbagi, and cancelling icons such as SHINOBINO or NARUSE.
I'm still in shock. I don't understand the creative process behind this idea. "Yeah let's add Manbagi in the first year. Who cares if her struggles for being part of a new class is one of the most important step for Komi since she for the first reached out for someone else and Komi had an entire year of experience to actually talk to someone that wasn't her family or Tadano. I'm sure nothing bad can happen from this decision."
It just... baffles me. Who had the idea to do a Live Action NOW? The anime starts two month from now on, and it's not like Komi need something for build up the hype since we were waiting this anime for years, so much that it became a joke in the anime community. If they wanted to do a Live Action, make a live action of the ONE SHOT at this point! So the people get familiar with the characters and explore the strange world of the prototype Komi, not SPOILING ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT CHARACTER OF THE MANGA, SINCE SHE APPEAR IN THE SECOND YEAR AND IT'S A TESTAMENT TO KOMI'S GROWTH.
I... I need to lay down for a moment... no, for a whole day. I planned to do the reaction to Zer0's animation but now I'm exausted from the rant. I'll probably do it tomorrow. I'm sorry guys, and until next time
#also whERE THE FUCK IS ONEMINE#komi-san wa komyushou desu#komi san wa komyushou desu#komi san can't communicate#komi san has a communication disorder#komi san is bad at communication#komi san komyushou desu#komi-san can't communicate#komi san#general ramblings
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Why Are We Still Waiting? - Chapter 3
Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)
Book: The Royal Romance (It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe)
Word Count: ~4900
Rating: PG-13 (brief language)
Summary: A trip to meet the newest Beaumont isn’t off to the greatest start.
Author’s Note: So, since it has been ages since I updated this story, I feel like a quick recap is in order. Drake and Riley are in Cordonia to meet Savannah and Bertrand’s new baby girl, Caroline. They just met Liam’s new girlfriend, Iris, and her innocent questions about their postponed wedding made it clear that Drake is very frustrated by the fact they aren’t married yet. To catch up/jog your memory fully on this series, you can check out the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment masterlist (link in bio).
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Drake groaned as Riley reached forward to start scanning across the radio stations.
“What?” she asked. He noticed her give a tiny shrug out of the corner of his eye as she leaned back after settling on a Greek Top 40 station.
“I knew it. I swear you pick this one just to annoy me, Liu.” Drake had made the mistake of complaining about this particular station on one of their first trips back to Cordonia, right before she’d gone back to university. It was all over-produced and sugary, and the DJs were just fucking obnoxious. Of course, that last point probably didn’t actually bother Riley, since she couldn’t understand a word they said.
“Maybe I just like this station.”
Drake glanced over and took in the giant shit-eating grin plastered across her face and just rolled his eyes. “Uh huh, sure. Let’s ignore the fact that this station plays a ton of songs in Greek.”
“I’m just trying to broaden my cultural horizons.”
“Says the woman who refused to watch Parasite because it has subtitles.’”
“If I wanted to read something, I would pick up a book,” she said, but she did lean forward again to flip over to a different station.
“Thank you,” Drake said, clicking on the turn signal as he switched into the right lane.
“You make it too easy sometimes,” she said, Drake noticing that she shrugged a little out of the corner of his eye. “If you didn’t act like that station was pure torture, I probably wouldn’t enjoy it so much.”
All Drake could do was shake his head. “You know, some people might not be so open about liking something out of spite.”
“No, it’s not spite.” Drake glanced over and raised his eyebrows at that, so Riley elaborated. “Spite is mean-spirited. I know you like my teasing too much for it to be spite.”
“Really.” Drake deadpanned, although he wasn’t able to hold back his grin and fully play along.
“Uh huh. What other explanation is there for you hanging around me after all these years?”
“I can’t think of a single one,” he said, earning him a flick of her fingers against his shoulder.
“Well I guess I will have to keep teasing you then. Otherwise I might have to settle for a guy who would have made me get up before six this morning.”
Drake looked over at her at that. Even after years together, her ability to jump from intensely sarcastic to gently sincere in an instant still amazed him. Last night, Maxwell had called and offered to pick them up from the palace after dropping off Mom and Aunt Leona at the airport, but they had a very early departure time. Drake had turned him down, feeling like it would be a shitty move to force Riley to wake up early on vacation, particularly since she never complained about using her limited vacation days to visit his family. Yet here she was, appreciative of his gesture that cost him nothing.
“Maybe I just didn’t want to spend two hours in the car with Maxwell.”
She let out a laugh at that. “Well, at least I rank as better company in your book.”
“Always, Liu. Always.”
“Seriously though, thank you.”
“Of course.”
Her left hand settled on his shoulder and gave him a little squeeze at that, but she didn’t say anything else, just glanced out the window as Drake turned off the main road and onto the smaller one that led to the Beaumont’s estate. Within a few minutes, they were pulling onto the driveway. As they climbed out of the car, they heard an excited little voice calling from the direction of the estate’s entrance.
“Uncle Drake!”
Drake closed the driver’s door and pivoted around quickly, crouching down and extending his arms. Bartie ran across the drive and threw his little arms around Drake’s neck, laughing as Drake scooped him up and hugged him tightly.
“We saw your car diving! I wanted to go out. Say ‘hi’ like Mommy or Daddy. Uncle Maxwell said I had to stay inside. Had to stand still ‘til you stopped,” Bartie rambled off, barely taking time to take a breath.
“Thought that a little toddler darting in front of the car might not be the best start to your visit,” added Maxwell, strolling over to their car. “Hey, little blossom,” he added as he hugged Riley.
“Oh, you don’t get to just ‘little blossom’ me after you convinced Liam to keep me away!” she chuckled as she gave him a playful shove. “What happened to me being a Beaumont and always welcome here?”
“He told you guys?” Maxwell asked, turning to glance at Drake.
“Of course he did!” Riley said, drawing Maxwell’s attention back to her. She laughed a bit and shook her head before walking around the car to Drake and Bartie. “Hey, Bartie! Wow, you’ve gotten so big!” Drake passed Bartie over to her, watching as she gave him a squeeze, but Bartie started squirming in her arms, clearly wanting to be released from the obligatory hugs.
Riley placed him down, and he turned right back to Drake, grabbing his hand and tugging on it. “Uncle Drake, come see my new playhouse!” he said, attempting to drag Drake along after him as he started moving back towards the estate.
“Hey, my favorite dude, do you remember why Aunt Riley and Uncle Drake are here?” Maxwell said, crouching in front of Bartie.
Bartie kicked his foot against the driveway before he answered. “Everyone wants to see Caroline. But she’s boring. She doesn’t do anything!”
Drake was trying to figure out the best way to deal with his nephew’s clear jealousy, but Riley stepped forward and bent down next to Maxwell. “I would love to see your playhouse, Bartie.”
“What do you say?” added Maxwell. “Why don’t we show Aunt Riley while Uncle Drake goes to see your mom and dad and sister?”
Bartie was silent for a few moments, but then nodded, grabbing Riley and Maxwell’s hands and heading inside without a glance back. Maxwell chuckled, twisted around, and called out to Drake, “You remember where the nursery is, right?”
Drake nodded and raised a hand in acknowledgment, taking the time to pop the trunk and grab their luggage before venturing inside himself. He went straight upstairs, pausing only to place their bags in their usual room, before heading down the hall, turning to the left and entering the private quarters, making his way to the small room located all the way towards the end of the hallway, the last door on the right.
It seemed like just yesterday he was building a crib in there for Bartie when Savannah was moving in. The room looked much the same, the walls still a pale grey, the furniture all pure white. The layout hadn’t changed much, with the crib placed against the far wall beneath a painting of stars shining over a lake with a squid waving a tentacle in the air, the changing table right next to it, and the dresser next to the rocking chair in the corner. The only thing that looked different, as far as Drake could remember, was the sheet tucked around the crib mattress. Back when this had been Bartie’s room, the sheets were covered in a variety of zoo animals, the only splash of color in the otherwise greyscale nursery. Now, they were a black and white check, much more subdued.
Laying in the center of the crib, wrapped tightly in a light pink blanket, was a sleeping baby. Drake didn’t have a lot of experience with infants, but even he had heard you never wake a sleeping baby, so he stepped further into the room carefully, trying not to make a sound. When he reached the crib, he couldn’t help but stare. This was Caroline. His niece.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, just taking her in, but eventually Savannah’s voice caught his attention.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s a bit creepy to just sneak into someone’s home and watch their child sleep?”
Drake turned his head to look over his shoulder. His sister was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, an eyebrow cocked. “Hey, Sav. Maxwell sent me up here.”
“I should have known,” she said, walking over to join him by the crib, wrapping an arm around his waist as she gave him a half-hug. “I see you’ve met Caroline.”
“She’s beautiful,” Drake said, looking down again at the little baby in the crib, a few fine brown hairs covering her head. His niece. She was so tiny. It was kind of overwhelming, seeing her like this. When he’d met Bartie, it had been such a total shock that he even existed. Plus, he had been so much older than this. “Congratulations.”
“You can pick her up, you know.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to disturb her.”
Savannah let out a few little chuckles. “She is the one who disturbs everyone most of the time. Besides, she’s just about due for a feeding.”
“I don’t know…”
“Come on, Drake. Just go wash your hands, and then you can hold her.”
And so a minute later, Drake found himself being handed his niece, so small and fragile-seeming. “Is this okay?” he asked, trying to make sure he walked the fine line between being gentle and holding her firmly as he tucked her against his chest.
“You aren’t going to hurt her!” Savannah laughed out.
“I just… I’ve never held a baby this little before. I don’t want to mess this up,” Drake said. Caroline felt so light in his arms. She was blinking, slowly becoming more alert after being shifted from her crib. Her bluish-grey eyes finally seemed to lock on his. “Hey, Caroline,” he said, “I’m your Uncle Drake.” But before he could think of anything else to say, she opened her mouth and let out a piercing wail.
Drake glanced over at Savannah. “What do I do?”
She laughed again. “God, what is Riley going to do with you when it’s your kid? She’s a baby, not an alien. She’s either hungry, sleepy, or has a dirty diaper.” But before she could poke fun at him any further, she reached over and shifted Caroline into her arms. “And since she’s hungry, I’m really the only one who can handle that.”
“Oh, do you want privacy or should I…”
Savannah shrugged. “I use a nursing blanket since Barthelemy walked in on me and made things real awkward.” And with that she settled onto the rocking chair, adjusting her top, positioning Caroline, then tugging a little cover over herself.
“What did Barthelemy do?” Drake asked as he moved to the side wall, leaning against it.
“Just acted real weird about the whole thing, talked to Bert about reminding me how a duchess should comport herself.”
“What a jackass.”
Savannah let out a sigh. “Bertrand was very apologetic when he relayed the message. But using a nursing blanket is not a big deal, and if it makes things easier for Bert with his dad…” She trailed off, staring down at Caroline, reaching under the nursing blanket to adjust something before she spoke again. “Having him around here has not exactly been some big happy family. I don’t know if his illness changed him, or if my memories of him were just fuzzy, but he’s an odd duck.”
Drake glanced over to the doorway. “Uhh, Sav. Not that I care, but the door is wide open and-”
She laughed and shook her head. “He’s at his rehab and physical therapy appointment this morning.”
“Ahh, gotcha. Any more talk of him trying to regain the title of duke?” Back when Barthelemy had returned to the estate, Sav had confided that it seemed like he was hinting that Bertrand should renounce his title and return it to his father. But since their wedding, it had seemed like most of that talk had died.
“No, he and Godfrey laid on the pressure after the honeymoon, but as soon as we announced the pregnancy, he backed off. His new mission seems to be to convince Liam that either Bartie or Caroline should be appointed as heir to the throne, which is crazy to think about, but it keeps him busy, so…” Savannah tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrows, letting the thought just hang there in the room.
Drake was bothered by the implications of that statement, but he knew that pressing Savannah on it would not really get him anywhere. As inappropriate and concerning as he found the implication that Savannah and Bertrand weren’t shutting Barthelemy down completely with that shit, he knew voicing his objections now would not solve anything. Discussing this all with Liam would make much more sense. So he just filed the statement away and moved to change the subject.
“Is it easier this time around, knowing what you are doing?”
Savannah smiled before glancing down at Caroline. “I think it’s more that I have a support system. And yes, I know it was my choice to not have one before,” she added before Drake could interject. “I guess in some ways at least I know what to expect, but Caroline is way more cranky than Bartie was at this age. Besides, I don’t think any parent ever really feels like they know what they are doing.”
“Nah, you seem to have it down.”
“It’s just a lot of trial and error. You’ll see when you guys have a baby.”
Drake ran his hand across his jaw, glancing down and watching his toes nudge into the baseboard. “I have a feeling that’s gonna be a while for us.”
“Oh come on! Don’t you want your kids to grow up with their cousins?”
Drake swallowed before taking a breath. “Of course I do.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“Well, getting married to start.” Shit. “Not that I think people have to be married to raise a kid or-”
“Relax, Drake,” Savannah said, cutting off his apologetic ramble. “It’s not like Bartie was a planned pregnancy.”
“Neither was Caroline,” he thought, but kept his mouth shut, not wanting to risk offending his sister or make her feel like he was judging her and her family.
“I know you have an old-fashioned streak-”
“Hey!” Drake interjected, but Savannah just kept on going.
“-but I think you guys should think about having kids soon. You were going to be married by now anyway! And isn’t that the modern, New York thing to do?”
Drake didn’t know where all this was coming from. Why she was so insistent about something that didn’t involve her. But man, he wished she would move on to any other topic of conversation. Because what could he say? That he was ready to be married with kids? That he would have no problem starting a family with Riley tomorrow? He couldn’t share that with his sister, at least not without sharing things about Riley he was pretty confident she would never want Savannah to know.
The fact that she had decided on a birth control option that would last for three years made it pretty clear where her head was at with the whole kid thing. She wasn’t really ready, not by a long shot. And until she was ready, there was really nothing he could do about it. Drake was just going to have to wait until she felt like the time was right, whenever that might be.
Maybe it was just that he was four years older than her. Maybe that’s why he felt so ready to take those next steps when she seemed so unbothered, so willing to just roll along. And to be fair, it’s not like they were ever going to be a couple like Hana and Catherine, who had timelines and life plans and five year goals. But deep down, Drake couldn’t help but wonder why Riley seemed so ambivalent about them getting married and starting a family. Was she unsure about something in their relationship, unsure about something with him?
It’s not that she didn’t want kids ever, as far as he knew. She’d mentioned wanting kids before. And they’d planned that first wedding without issue. But now it seemed like she was stuck. No rush to get married. Not thinking about having kids for years. And Drake didn’t know how to approach the whole topic without seeming like he was demanding things. Putting pressure on her. He was happy. They were happy. It was something his younger self would have never thought possible, and it should definitely be enough. But maybe he was selfish, because there were times where it just didn’t feel like enough.
Maybe it would be helpful to talk to someone about this, but that would feel like violating Riley’s trust. He knew Riley had her therapist she talked to, and he was sure their relationship was a topic of conversation there, but that was different. The therapist wasn’t someone who knew Drake, who was his friend or family. Anyone Drake would feel comfortable talking about this with knew Riley. Knew her well, quite frankly.
So for now, he was just going to have to keep moving forward. Keep hoping that Riley would start to feel ready soon. And at the moment, that meant sidestepping his sister’s questions and prodding.
“Geez, Sav! We haven’t even been here for an hour, and you are laying it on really thick.”
“Sorry, sorry! I know it’s not my business! If it makes you feel better, it’s not just with you. Kiara also told me I needed to back off when I started asking her about when she and Oliver were going to have kids right after their wedding.”
“Wait, when did Kiara get married?”
“Oh, Drake! At least you have an excuse for not knowing all the news now that you live abroad.” she said, shaking her head. “They eloped maybe… four months ago?”
And then Savannah was off, filling Drake in on tons of gossip he didn’t give two shits about. But it made her happy, and it was a safe topic of conversation, so who was he to complain?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Riley sat crossed legged on the floor in Bartie’s room at a little table, Maxwell seated across from her. Meanwhile, Bartie was hard at work at his toy kitchen set, organizing pieces of plastic food on plates. He wanted to show off and make “lunch” for them. Riley supposed that this was probably a common way for a three and a half year old to want to play, not that she had any such memories from her own childhood. What wasn’t common, she was sure, was the formal table setting Bartie had carefully placed in front of each of them, the perfectly pressed white apron he’d asked Maxwell to help him tie on, or the fact that he was arranging his plastic lettuce, eggs, and meat on actual china.
“Looks excellent, my favorite dude,” said Maxwell as Bartie carefully carried over several plates to the table. “What’s on the menu?”
“Steak tartare with a fresh greens salad,” he said before turning and heading back towards his little kitchen.
“Wait, aren’t you going to join us?” asked Riley, trying to keep from bursting out in laughter at the thought of a preschooler preparing such a meal.
“Aunt Riley, no aprons at the table!” he said his eyes wide as he turned back to face her.
“Yeah, come on Aunt Riley, where are your manners?” Maxwell winked before twisting to look over at Bartie. “You need any help untying your apron there?”
“No, I can do it,” Bartie ground out, tugging on the ties without much luck.
“Okay, well I’m right here if you do need help,” Maxwell responded. Within five seconds, Bartie was back, standing right next to him.
“Thanks, Uncle Maxwell!” he said, happily pulling the apron off and jogging over to hang it up nicely once Maxwell had it untied.
“You’re working hard to maintain your title as best uncle.” Riley said.
“Every time you guys come to visit, he suddenly wants to go fishing and camping instead of having dance parties with me.”
Riley laughed at that. “We’re new and exciting, what can I say.”
“Easy for you to say, you’re the favorite aunt by default.”
“What does default mean?” asked Bartie, plopping down on the floor next to them.
“It means no other choices, dude.”
“Oh,” Bartie said, nodding before picking up his silverware, pretending to cut into the plastic in front of him with surprising coordination.
“So has Uncle Maxwell been hanging out with you a lot since your sister came home?”
Bartie shrugged. “I guess.”
“We’ve definitely been seeing some jealousy,” Maxwell said with a nod. “I kind of thought this might happen, so I made sure to clear my schedule for a handful of weeks around the due date.”
“That was thoughtful of you.”
Maxwell tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Hey, I’m favorite uncle for a reason.”
“Uncle Drake is my favorite,” said Bartie, causing Riley to burst out laughing.
“Dude, that wasn’t the deal! You’re gonna pay for this,” Maxwell said, leaning over and wiggling his fingers. “The squid’s about to attack.” With that, Maxwell started tickling Bartie, triggering wild giggles and Bartie rolling backwards on the floor.
“Bartie!” Bertrand’s voice cut across the room. Riley twisted over to find him standing in the hallway, his eyes scanning over the scene in front of him. “We don’t make our guests sit on the floor, do we?”
“No, Daddy.”
“Bertrand, it’s fine-” Riley started, but he held up a hand, cutting her off.
“What do we say, Bartie?”
“Sorry, Aunt Riley.”
All Riley could do was nod, accepting an apology from a toddler that felt entirely unnecessary.
“Good,” said Bertrand, “Now go wash your hands and get cleaned up for lunch.”
Bartie scampered out of the room, turning to his left in the hallway.
“I offered to play with him, Bertrand.”
“Well, he was told that you were coming to visit Caroline. He should have known better than to monopolize your time.”
Riley opened her mouth, ready to respond, but Maxwell grabbed her wrist and shook his head.
“How are you, by the way? I apologize for not being there to greet you and Drake.”
“I’m good, Bertrand,” she said as she pushed herself up on her feet, walking over and giving him a loose hug. “Congrats, by the way.”
“Yes, thank you. Drake and Savannah have Caroline in the private lounge if you want to go meet her. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check and make sure Bartie isn’t making a complete mess in the bathroom.”
And with that, Bertrand was off, following the path down the hallway that his son had just taken.
“Yikes,” said Riley as soon as he was out of earshot.
“Yeah, I know,” replied Maxwell, looping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her in the opposite direction. “That is another reason I made sure I didn’t have any need to be on set or in LA for any writers meetings for a few months.”
“He’s more of a tight ass than ever.”
“I think he’s very anxious because he missed this part of Bartie’s life. The amount of research he did and the number of parenting books he read is insane. But any time any little thing isn’t what he expects, he flips out.”
“What does Savannah think about that?” Riley asked, following Maxwell down the stairs.
“Either she’s too sleep deprived to notice, or she’s just pretending not to see it. I decided to give him two months to settle into things. If he’s still snapping at everyone then, well… I guess I’ll have to stage an intervention or something.”
“Wow. Well at least you’re here to look out for the kid.”
“Yup, figure I can keep things normal-ish for him. Though I will say between watching Bertrand spiral and hearing Caroline’s shrieks, any faint consideration I might have given to parenthood has gone straight out the window.”
Riley laughed, prompting Maxwell to keep going. “I’m serious! I know I told you I was pretty sure I was good being the fun uncle, but these past few weeks have really locked in that decision. Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but Bartie is right - Caroline is boring. And loud. And I am so glad she is not my responsibility.”
All Riley could do was laugh more. “Do you need me to make up an excuse for you so you don’t need to be in the same room with her?”
Maxwell nudged her with his shoulder. “Oh, laugh it up! I don’t have any issues with her. She just confirmed that fatherhood is not for me, no matter how cute she is when she isn’t screaming her head off.”
At that point, they entered the lounge, so Riley dropped any further teasing she had for Maxwell. “Hey, Savannah. Congrats!” she said, walking across the room and giving her a hug.
“Thank you, Riley. It’s so good to see you!” Savannah replied as they pulled apart. Riley moved to sit down next to Drake on the couch, who was cradling a baby against his shoulder.
“This must be Caroline,” she said, watching as Drake tapped his hand against her back lightly.
“Either that or I have a lot of explaining to do,” Drake said, glancing over at her. Riley just smiled and nudged him lightly with her elbow.
“Drake, why don’t you let Riley hold her?” Savannah asked. “She should get to meet her aunt, too.”
“Do you want to?” Drake asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Of course,” said Riley, reaching over and helping him peel the tiny little girl off his chest, nestling her into her own arms.
Caroline was awake, her eyes roving around as Riley shifted back onto the couch more fully to try and get comfortable. After a few seconds, they seemed to settle on Riley’s face. All she could really do was stare back, taking in this child, this baby girl who might not have been planned, but would certainly be loved by so many.
“Yeah, I know I’m a stranger right now. But in a couple of decades, I’ll be the one you come to when you want nightclub recommendations in New York City.”
“Hey, I want in on that invite,” said Maxwell as Savannah let out a few chuckles. Riley glanced over at Drake, expecting him to be rolling his eyes or shaking his head, but instead was caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. He was staring at her holding Caroline with such passion, such longing, she felt almost exposed. All she could think to do was drop her eyes back to the baby, not wanting to dwell on what that meant at that moment.
Unfortunately, Savannah must have noticed Drake as well, because she said, “Oh, I see that look. ‘A while’ my ass. I bet you’ll be pregnant by the end of the year.”
Drake let out a sort of sputtering cough at his sister’s comment, but before he could say anything, could so much as get a word out, Riley felt her own mouth opening. Her own response spilled out so glibly, without a second of thought. It was almost like she heard someone else saying the words, even as she knew she was the one speaking.
“Don’t give him any ideas.”
She felt Drake stiffen beside her, saw Maxwell shifting in his seat, and heard Savannah mutter out a little apology, but all of that was just background noise as her brain screamed at her. How could she have been so fucking stupid? What possessed her to say that? Or at least to phrase it like that? There were ways to shut down Savannah’s prying without implying that Drake had baby fever and she wanted no part of it.
The uncomfortable silence in the room was broken as Bertrand and Bartie entered. “Lunch is ready in the dining room,” said Bertrand, gesturing to the door behind him. Bertrand then stepped over to Riley. “I can go put her down,” he said, gesturing at his daughter still in Riley’s arms.
“Oh, sure thing,” said Riley, passing him Caroline before standing up. Savannah, Maxwell, and Bartie had already left the room, but Drake was still seated, his eyes locked on his knee that was bouncing up and down.
“Drake, I-” she started as soon as Bertrand had stepped out, extending her hand to help him to his feet. But Drake ignored the gesture, pushing his hands into the cushions of the couch instead.
“I’m hungry. Let’s just go eat, Riley.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t-.”
“It’s fine, Riley, Really. We can talk later” He nodded at her and started walking towards the door, leaving Riley to follow after him. And more than the brush off, more than his refusal to hold her hand, the fact that he’d not called her ‘Liu’ let her know that she had made a huge fucking mess.
Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie
TRR/TRH: @twinkleallnight @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff
Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know @iplaydrake
ICWAM: @thequeenofpixels @sunnyxdazed @sammie0220
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Drive
>Pairing: virgin/sub/office co-worker Namjoon x reader
>Genre: coworker au, smut
>Warnings: uhhhh Joon is a bit subby, he’s a virgin, public sex/ car sex, fingering (f receiving) reader is a dom, kinda soft, corruption kink
>Rating: 18+ (for smut)
>Synopsis: You get fired and expect it to be a lot worse of a day then it actually is. your friend the IT guy at the office comes to your rescue.
> Words: 3.5k
Authors note: hello, drunk Moon here! I wrote this because it was requested by @bresilienne-ami I’m so sorry it took forever to do, lovely. Don’t give any credit to sober Moon because she doesn’t deserve it. Also I didn't make a banner for this I’m sorry
“I’m sorry but your subpar work just isn’t cutting it, we’re letting you go. Please gather your things and vacate the premises.”
That’s what he said. Your boss sat there in his fancy chair, not giving a fuck, seeming proud of himself for his words. He didn’t care that you worked your ass off for the past few years at this job praying all your work paid off in the form of a raise or a promotion just for him to call you a different name the handful of times he ever acknowledged your existence. He didn’t care that you didn’t know how to find a new job on such a short term, he didn’t even give you two weeks’ notice. He probably didn’t even care that because of this you might have to move back in with your parents for a while. You felt like you had failed, but you were more than heartbroken as you stormed through the maze of cubicles towards your own where your desk was, clutching the box that your boss had handed you with somewhat of a smile, you were pissed. The silent stares you knew that you were getting only angered you more, you felt like a circus clown like they wanted a good show. You felt like screaming at them “what are you looking at?!” but then again maybe they pitied you. You probably had mascara running down your tear-soaked cheeks, they probably knew what had happened from the way you were acting.
It didn’t matter, you just wanted out of there, and the looks and silence from them only made you rethink even taking the time to get your things at all.
You held the box against the side of your desk as you carelessly raked your things into it with teary, blurred vision.you had worked so hard just to toss years worth of being here into a box.
You felt so alone, no one had said a word to you, your mind raced with pain and anger as you took your filled box and began to quickly race towards the elevator. You saw that elevator as the light at the end of this nightmare tunnel, it would shield you from the staring, from the gawking, from the pity. You did your best to hold back the wall of sobs that were threatening to break forth and bring you to your knees as you thought about how someone could be so cold and just fire you as if you weren’t even a person.
In it the midst of your thought and rushing, you could feel your foot catch on something, next thing you were sent falling forward. The bottom of the box fell through and you and your things went crashing to the floor.
You wanted to just lay there, to just give up and hope you melted and soaked into the floor so you could just get away as fast as you could from this embarrassing situation.
“Here” someone muttered. You had been engrossed in your self-pity and stares from the others you hadn’t even realized the one and the only person you ever counted on was here to rescue you.
You pushed yourself off the floor as he concentrated on taking the box on the floor gathering your things and putting them back inside, carefully holding the now broken bottom so they all didn’t fall through. You looked at the man as he pushed his round glasses up onto his face and stood. He took the box under one of his arms and outreached the other arm to you to help you up, which you graciously took.
“Let me walk you to your car, okay?” he announced more so than asked, he was already heading towards the elevator with your things leaving you to run along behind him to catch up.
You had spent so many lunches with this man, he was the only real not standoffish one here, the only one that was easy to talk to and get along with. Maybe because it was because he was young like you, or maybe because he was an outcast at this place like you. Kim Namjoon worked in IT, he was shy, stuttered when nervous combined with his little habit of pushing his glasses upon his face. He was a bit of a nerd, or that’s what people said around the office, but you had always seen him as nothing more than a friend.
As you were accompanied out the doors of the building and into the parking lot, you were still holding back the tears that were threatening to spill. The walk to your car was silent, but he seemed to stall with the box in his hand as you stopped next to your car.
“I’m- I’m so sorry.” Namjoon's eyebrows furrowed and his voice took on a tone that dripped with guilt and pity for you.
“It’s alright,” you said weakly as you took the box from him, careful to hold the button as he had. “I’m uh-” your voice broke and shook just a bit making you clear your throat and avoid eye contact with the man whom you had spent a lot of lunches with, the man who had just witnessed your near meltdown over being fired.
“For what it’s worth, he’s probably going to fire me too, he never liked either of us. Jokes on him though, I have another job lined up already, better paying too. Hey! I could put in a good word for you! I bet they’d have a spot open, it’s run by an old friend, and I bet I could-”
“Ah Joonie, you don’t have to do that.” you wondered how bad he had felt for you to offer this.
“I know, but what would lunch be without my lunch friend? If I’m switching jobs you might as well come with me, you know? I can give my friend a call tonight. You’re a good and dedicated worker and I’m sure he won’t say no.”
“Really?” you felt your tears and emotions subside for a moment and make way for a little excitement and relief.
“Of course.” he gave a little chuckle as he looked down at the pavement of the parking lot “You did tolerate being friends with the office nerd for the past few years, it’s the least I could do.”
“I never once thought you were a nerd Joonie, they were all just dicks.” you smiled at his smile from your honesty.
“Hey, uh, listen…” he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose once again and ran a hand through his hair. “If you’re not doing anything tonight maybe… would- would you want to- go out for dinner? You know? As a celebration dinner for not- not having to put up with that dictator anymore.” he thumbed towards the building behind him “Y-you don’t have to, it’s-”
The more he went on the more he seemed to stutter and that let you know he was nervous.
“Yeah actually, let’s do that. You still have my number, right?”
He gave you a dimpled smile as he nodded.
“Is eight okay? You want to pick me up?” you asked as you shoved the box haphazardly into your back seat.
“Y-yeah, okay. I’ll text you,” he assured you.
You opened the driver’s side door but paused a moment before taking the few steps back over to him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks for making all of this a lot better Joon.”
You didn’t need to turn back around and see his face to know he wore such a cute flustered look, you had seen it before when casually flirting with him, you had always adored it, as a matter of fact, you more than adored it. He was always so shy and quiet and to be honest that was your thing, you often found yourself daydreaming about what he’d be like in bed. Would he let you take control over him? Would he switch into someone more aggressive? Tonight you were determined to find out, you had a bad enough day and decided that the dick of the gentlemanly coworker you had been thirsting after for years might make it all so much better.
He picked you up right at eight, still in his crisp white work shirt and black slacks, freshly off work. His car had the same smell like him. He made small talk the entire drive but you found yourself staring at your knight in shining armor. You liked how the lights from the street poured into the dark car occasionally and lit his smooth skin and glittered off those glasses that seemed too big for his face. You itched to touch him, you felt like you were wasting time already, you decided to test the waters, so when he was mid-sentence you placed a hand just above his knee. He paused a moment and you knew if he was about to reject you or if he asked you to move your hand, you would and simply just have a normal friend dinner with him then you would gladly do that instead, you did like spending time with him after all and you knew he wasn’t the kind of person to hold something like a little crush against you forever.
He didn’t stop you though, he didn’t move your hand, he just ignored it and continued about how he knew the guy who would hopefully soon be your new boss and how cool he was.
You honestly didn’t know where to go from there, dinner was casual, it was sweet, he took you to a nice steak house and paid, saying that you were “currently jobless” in a joking way. You had had so many lunches with him in the break room, you had eaten together before, but this time it felt so different. He seemed to stare more, stutter more, push up his glasses more and that was a sure sign of nervousness. You tried to join in on the conversation and not seem too boring in hopes he would want to do this again with you one day, but you honestly couldn’t get the thought of completely dominating him out of your head.
You didn’t make another move though, you were too worried he was just too shy or afraid to tell you not to. On your way home, just as you were figuring you were probably better off as friends any way he asked a strange question.
“Can we pull over and talk? I-I’d like to talk a little if that’s- that’s alright?”
“Of course, I’m in no rush to get home.” you replied knowing that this was it, he was about to give you the “we’re only friends” talk.
He said nothing else until he parked in a back empty parking lot of a store that had closed down months ago. Then he turned the car off, and simply just sat there a moment.
You wondered if you should ask what he wanted to talk about or start apologizing for your inappropriate behavior on the way to dinner when he finally turned to you, not making eye contact.
“I-I-I…” he stopped a moment and sighed, seeming a little aggravated at his stuttering “I wish I didn’t do that.” he then muttered. “I have something to tell you.”
“Okay.” you urged listening closely.
“I’m bad at this whole thing.” he gave a short sad laugh, more like a short breath than anything “I’m a virgin… is why.” he stared out the windshield as he spoke, seeming regretful once he did it.
“Hm,” you said and gave a little shrug and that’s when he looked at you again, inspecting your nonchalant reaction.
“You probably guessed that, right?” he let his forehead fall on the steering wheel and closed his eyes “why am I so dumb and obvious?” he seemed to ask himself.
“I guessed that you liked it rough in bed, like a lady in the streets but a freak in the bed, you know?”
He lifted his head and looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“First of all, did you just quote an Usher song after I told you I was a virgin? Secondly, I am not whatever you thought I was.” his laugh was more of an amused one this time.
“I did. I did quote Usher. What do you say we find out though how you are in bed, right here, right now? I mean I’m not a virgin, but I’m a car sex virgin so it would be like we’re taking each other’s virginities.” you joked.
His eyes nearly went as wide as his mouth had fallen.
“N-n-now? Here? In my car?”
“Sure” you shrugged “Unless you’re opposed to it.” you shrugged once again.
His reply was a rapid shake of his head.
“Good,” you replied as you made your way over the center console that separated the both of you until your knees sat on both sides of his lap, straddling it.
You now face to face and he looked you in the eye but seemed so speechless. You didn’t need to hear him stutter to know that he was nervous, his quick breaths were the only noise in the quiet car.
You connected your lips to his and the result was a slow but passionate kiss, no tongue, nothing too fancy.
When you pulled your head back away from him you decided to ask to make sure this was what he wanted.
“Are you sure you want this?” You didn’t have to wait long for your whispered question to be answered.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this. Turns out you- you weren’t the- the only one who has imagined what the other would be like in bed.” you watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed down his nervous stuttering “do what you want, how you want it. S-show me what you like”
With his confirmation you reached down to the side of his seat, letting it fall back until he was lying horizontally.
“Let’s have some fun then Joon.” you leaned down over him hiking up your best dress so that your thighs were freer and your purposefully worn sexiest panties were exposed and could grind against his dress pants and hardening bulge in them.
When your lips met with his they were more hungry and less gentle than the first time. Your tongue found his and encouraged it to play with yours.
He seemed less and less nervous as time went by, even placing his hands on your ass and squeezing in rhythm with your still clothed but damp core grinding into his erection under his dress pants. You undoubtedly needed more though, you craved to fluster him more, you wanted him to feel what he was doing to you, how he was absolutely wrecking you without doing anything at all.
“Touch me.” you pried your lips from his to demand.
“I-I- I’ve done that part before but I-I-” you lifted his hand and guided it to tour soaked panties and he began to touch you through the material, letting his fighters over where your clit lie underneath the sticky material.
“So good, you’re doing so good.” you moaned just desperate for his touch to the point where you would take anything from him. He sucked in a breath at your praise.
“Like that? What if I…” he slipped his hand down the front of your panties, pulling them down just enough to reach inside and once again run his fingers over your slit, but this time with nothing separating you from his touch.
“Do you feel how wet I am for you? I want you so badly.” you took hold of his wrist and guided his fingers until they were inside of you.
“Fuck.” he breathed a shaky breath. “So tight.”
You bounced a little on his two fingers taking them inside of you.
“Tell me that you dreamed of me taking your cock.” you moaned as you imagined it yourself.
“I have. I have for so long. Please fuck me.” he seemed so desperate and a tingle ran through you at how much you enjoyed the sound of him being so needy for you.
“Beg me Namjoon. Beg me to be the first to take your cock, show me how much you want me.”
“Please please please, please. Be my first, I want it, I want you,” he whispered sweetly and still breathlessly.
“Pull down your pants.” You ordered. his fingers left your pussy you couldn’t help but see the slick sheen of them as he fumbled with his pants. You leaned over into your seat and took the condom in your bag out that you had put there in hopes this all went well.
You opened the wrapper and rolled the latex down over his now exposed cock he had been slightly stroking. You were impressed with his size, he was hiding something pretty big in those dress pants all those years, maybe if you would have known all of this you would have offered to fuck him sooner, but you tried not to dwell on all of that, you just wanted to feel his cock fill you.
Your hips hovered over him, ready to take him at any second.
“Wait, we’re in p-public we could get in-”
“Trouble? You want to back out of this now?” you questioned with a raise of an eyebrow.
“No, no, no. I’m doing this.” he was determined, he reached for his glasses to take them off, but you stopped him.
“Leave them, I want you to see my face clearly when I cum for you, on your cock buried inside of me.” with that you lowered yourself down onto him. You didn’t take it too slowly when you finally had him entirely inside of you, you began to rock your hips right away, leaving him moaning and gripping your hips tightly with every movement.
It was bliss to finally have him in you, to be wrecking him underneath you like this, to hear him cursing with sensitivity under his hard, quick breaths.
You were leaning in so far forward to sporadically kiss him and bite at his lips roughly, that your clit rubbed against his pubic bone with every movement.
“You like that Joonie? You like the way you feel inside of this pussy?” You teased.
“Fuck.” he repeated among groans of pleasure with his eyes shut. “What-what id I accidentally-”
“It’s alright, it’s your first time, but try to hang in there and let me play with you just a little longer.” you coached, but you were already riding him so fast, just seconds from your orgasm, you were so out of breath and all you wanted was to let him feel you cum around him. You wanted to ruin him for life, and from the fucked out expression on his face you seemed to be doing your job.
The nerdy guy from work was balls deep inside of you and you could feel his cock twitching and hard, ready to release any second and finally give you what you had been daydreaming of for so many years.
His normally neat hair was a mess and his glasses were askew as his fingers dug further into your skin.
“Namjoon I’m so close.” you panted as you forced your hips to move faster. His jaw was viably clenched as he viably also struggled to hang on.
He slammed his hips up into you in time and that was what did it.
You gripped his white dress shirt and he let out a long moan. His cock twitching as you felt him release into the condom dragged out your high. You could only watch his furrowed brows as he seemed to hold your hips in place as he came.
Then you were left staring at each other, heavy breathed and not saying anything for a moment
“Y-you know, even if I wasn’t a virgin, that would have p-probably sill been the best sex of my life.”
You let out a laugh as you climbed off of him and back into your seat, pulling down your dress as you did so.
“Yeah, I have to admit you weren’t too bad, especially for someone who’s never done that before. You have drive and dedication… I guess I should’ve seen that coming since you show that in your job.” you talked through him pulling off the condom, wrapping it in a napkin, and tossing it.
“At least you think so, I was fired today too. Jokes on him though, we both have new jobs now anyway.” he smiled and you let your surprise show on your face “I told you earlier but you didn’t seem to be listening, now I know where your mind was.” he said, making you laugh.
“And that’s where my mind will be from now on, we should do this more since we’re still coworkers, our little secret, yeah?”
“As if I’d say no to the best sex of my life again.” he started the car and pushed his glasses back up.
“Still the only sex of your life, but I’m kind of glad it’s the only so you think it’s the best.” you snorted with laughter at your own statement.
“Like I said, even if it wasn’t my only and there were so many more before you, I swear it would still be the best.” he gave you a smile. you knew it was cheesy but it was still cute.
#sub!namjoon#sub namjoon#kim namjoon x reader#namjoon au#kim namjoon#namjoon#namjoon smut#namjoon fluff#bts#ksmutclub#bts fanfic#namjoon one shot#namjoon x reader#bts smut#bts fluff#bts oneshot#namjoon x reader smut
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Spamming about Nico today, let's go.
In my last post I said that Nico has a lot of reasons to believe that people hate him, and I said this because I've seen post saying that he's just a dramatic emo, and that he has no reason to believe that. So here's a long list of reasons why Nico believes people hate him how it's very easy to see why he says that.
Even before Bianca died, people would often call him annoying, told him to shut up, and would ignore him. Like yeah, he talked a lot and asked a lot of questions, but he was a TEN YEAR OLD with ADHD just learning that he was a fucking demigod, what did you expect him to do, just sit silently and obey orders, the fuck?
His own sister, the only family he has left, leaves him to join a bunch of random girls that they just meet a day ago, basically telling him that he was too much to handle and was a burden that she wanted to get away from.
He was continuously left out of the loop and not told what was going on, despite a lot of it being stuff that he had to know in order to stay alive.
He really trusted Percy, and looked up to him a lot (don't know if his crush develops then or later), he saw Percy as someone safe, someone he could go to, but then Percy breaks his promise to him, resulting in the only family he has left being dead (Yes, it wasn't really Percy's fault, but Nico was ten years old and didn't really see it like that).
They gave on trying to find him really quick when he ran away. If he were anyone else, Annabeth, Grover, Tyson, even if it were Conner, Travis, Selena, or even Clarisse, the search wouldn't have stopped until they found them or their body. But with Nico they only search for like what, two months give or take, but deciding that he was dead and basically forgetting about him. And if I'm remembering correctly they didn't even alert they other campers that he was missing, just told Chiron, and kept it between them like he wasn't even worth it. And if they thought he was dead why didn't they have a funeral for him?? They really didn't care that much did they?
Nico spend months, maybe even a year, trying to contact his sister, only for her to ignore his calls completely. Percy comes, tries it ONCE, and she comes running, ignores Nico to talk to Percy, and when she finally talks to Nico it's basically, "Hey, stop trying to summon me I'm not coming back. And stop blaming Percy, idiot." Then leaves. His own fucking sister.
An evil ghost pretends to be his friend and mentor for a year, trying to get Nico to do evil stuff and kill innocent people, which Nico never does, ends up seeing through all his lies and defeating him all by himself, only for people to think he's evil because of it. Like it's not his fault he was tricked, he had absolutely no one, and no answers to his questions, and when someone comes along offering him comfort and answers of course he's going to take it!
Pan, an actual God, acknowledges every single person in that room, telling them how great they all are and stuff, but completely skips over Nico and ignores that he's even there.
Hades tells Nico that Bianca would have been better, and that he wishes he died instead of Bianca, and from the looks of it that's not the first time he's said that, and Nico thinks the same thing. Having Percy stand there, hear that, and not defend him in anyway, it had to of hurt a lot. Like I get that Percy was angry with Nico, but Nico was twelve years old and still planned on taking Percy to the river like he said. Nico even says before that Hades promised him that he won't hurt Percy, and that he only wanted to talk to him. Percy doesn't care that it's not Nico's fault Hades doesn't hold up his part of the deal, didn't even tell him about his mother like he promised, and remains angry with Nico.
When Nico goes against the GOD of the Underworld to save Percy and take him to the river, Percy chokes the twelve year old, and makes it clear that the ONLY reason his isn't KILLING Nico is because he has no other way out.
He then leaves Nico down there with a God that is angry with Nico and could and would kill Nico with no hesitation for disobeying him with even feeling a little guilty about it.
When Nico is at camp after saving them and convincing Hades, Persephone, and Demeter to help in the war, the campers around down even try to hide their thoughts and comments about him. Saying that he was evil, too skinny, smelled like death, was creepy, a freak, made fun of him for having no friends, saying that they don't want him there, that there was a reason there wasn't a Hades Cabin, made it clear that they didn't trust him. And no one defended him. Again, Nico was twelve years old, hearing all this, it was clear that he was unwanted and and didn't belong at the one place all demigods were supposed to feel safe, wanted, and be part of a family, he wasn't wanted there.
And that's only the things that he's seen himself, like imagine if he knew that one of the only reasons Hazel was able to convince the seven to save him was because he had information for them. They were seriously going to just leave him to die. That's absolutely horrible.
So yeah, Nico thinking that people don't like him, and don't want him around isn't just him being an angsty emo teenager. His whole life people have shown him this, and have made it clear that he isn't welcome, so he distances himself from others not wanting to be a burden or make them uncomfortable just from him existing. He's not being dramatic, he's only using what he has been shown his whole life.
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Friends
I needed to release some comfort into the world. This skips some of the Hospital Arc, but the pieces will be connected.
Masterpost
@misspelledwitch @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @voidwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @captivity-whump @liliability @muumimafia @fanastywhump @elisabethrosewrites @unsure-but-alive-752 @jeverest00 @texdoeshalo @fanmanga1357-blog
Thank you guys so much for your support, putting up with my questions at weird hours, and being excited about my characters: @0idril0 @rosesareviolentlyread @walkingchemicalfire
TW: Intubated whumpee
V***V
Markus isn’t quite sure when he wakes up the first time. Isn’t actually sure if he’s even really conscious. He’s aware, but the world is muted. It feels like early color TV, the hues not quite right and turning into an oversaturated mess the more he tries to force it. So he doesn’t, he stops struggling, just lets everything come back in stages.
His hearing comes back online first.
He hears the steady whoosh, gurgle, and hiss of medical equipment. The occasional urgent toned beep of a IV drip. The soft rustling and hushed voices of people doing their best to be quiet while shoving all of their worry and care into a box.
It’s all muffled and distorted through the cocktail of heady drugs in his system. The sounds swirl, clinging too long to his eardrums before slipping away to nothing. It’s disorienting, confusing, and he welcomes each wave of quiet that surges up to take away the noise.
There’s a growing anxiety that’s sitting heavily in his chest, but it’s not quite reaching him. Leaving him to teeter on the edge, giving him a hard place to fall with any gentle nudge.
Time flows syrupy slow, and it feels like he fades down back toward unconsciousness and up again before anything else becomes relevant. But, eventually, he becomes aware of his body too. He’s numb in the way that means that he’s on the heavy duty kind of drugs, administered correctly so that his pain is far away. Like the anxiety, the fear, the pain is just waiting on him to acknowledge it so that it can take over.
So.
He does his best to ignore it. To float in this absence of pain.
It’s better.
He doesn’t want to think about better than what, he just knows that it’s better.
So he focuses on anything other than the pain. He’s sunk into the softness of the mattress beneath him. The slightly harder cushion of pillows under his side and shoulder. The rhythmic compression and release around his lower legs, the not-painful pressure almost comforting, so much like a kind touch that he hasn’t had in what feels like years.
He almost feels cradled—safe—as something clicks on and warm air curls around his limbs and envelops him. He floats there, up and down, darkness closing over his head in staggering intervals as his body fights its way through the sedation.
It’s quiet, peaceful, for a while, real, deep sleep engulfing him and blotting out the awareness that his body has painstakingly been building up.
He wakes up again, not knowing how long has passed, not really remembering being awake at all. The world is still soft and liquid, slipping through his fingers faster the harder he tries to hold on to it, so he lets it go. Soaks in the myriad of conflicting and confusing sensations.
Time is skewed, but Markus is just starting to struggle with the thinning line between the numbness of his body and the morass of pain when the quiet clack of a curtain moving disturbs the quiet, the heavier tread of boots on hospital tile joining with the hiss-thunk of one of the machines. The sounds swirl around him, swimming up and burbling through thick water.
There’s a lingering silence as Markus feels the weight of this new person’s gaze on his lax limbs. An instinctive fear of the unknown bubbles up in his chest, and suddenly, he feels exposed. Vulnerable. At the mercy of a stranger when he doesn’t remember what mercy is anymore.
Viscerally, his body recalls harsh hands that pushed and pulled at his defenseless body. Hurt him, took advantage of his weakness, callously disregarded him as anything other than an inconvenience.
The silence lasts until there’s a heavy sigh, and the clatter of metal and plastic on tile. The blankets shift, and there’s pressure around his hand, the artificial, sticky feeling of latex that manipulates his limp fingers.
He gets nothing from that pressure other than the sensation of another person touching him without his permission. Desperately, Markus wants the simple comfort of someone holding his hand, that yearning striking a cord deep down, buried under the lingering fear and terror, reminding him of safety and home. But this touch is nothing but latex and a firmly artificial barrier between him and whatever supernatural sense he could gather of this person, leaving him with nothing other than the primal desire to curl into and away from the touch at the same time.
But.
It doesn’t matter what he wants. He’s still far from being able to move, even if he wanted to. Divorced from his flesh, only able to suffer and exist inside of it.
His soul cries out for safety, for someone, anyone, to hear him and take him home.
Something tickles the side of his face, and the person next to him shifts, another latex soft touch brushing over his cheek bone, feeling wet and cold. His hair is gently stroked, and the touch settles over the top of his head. The pressure around his hand tightens briefly, “Markus? Can you hear me, sugar?”
The voice registers, but it’s muffled, the words whisked away just as he’s comprehending them. The sound and the touch though anchor him out of the soupy mire his consciousness has become, but he can’t really respond, doesn’t want to respond. The person doesn’t push, just hums, shushing him nonsensically.
“Alright, sugar, alright,” the low voice rumbles, the words coming tentative and slow, “I know you’re still sleepin’, but David told me that you were tolerating the lowered sedation this time. That maybe a little more of what we’re sayin’ will start stickin’ with ya.” Soft, soothing patterns are drawn into the cold skin at the back of his hand. “Catrina told me not to, uh. . . not to overwhelm you, not to talk about any heavy stuff, just to try and get you to respond, ya know?” A thick, huffed laugh. “She’s kinda terrifying, doesn’t put up with any a’ us trying to bully her for information. So, I’m. . . I’m just gonna hold your hand, and you squeeze when you’re ready, okay?”
The man clears his throat roughly, and the pressure around his hand leaves for the rasp of what sounds like days old stubble, and Markus feels an unexpected, surprising burst of warm affection. An absent thought tiptoed its way across his muzzy consciousness, there and gone moments later: Clint never did like to cry.
The voice—god, it’s familiar, so fucking familiar—quiets for a while, and Markus is so exhausted. He drifts, pulled down by growing fatigue and thickening tendrils of pain. Maybe he slips down into actual sleep again, but the next time he’s aware there’s another voice filling the room.
“—seems kind of distressed.”
“Yeah, I hit the call button just before you came in, Catrina should be here in a second.”
“Good, good, he probably just needs them to check his drip, maybe increase it a little. It’s not easy to titrate these meds.”
He’s too confused, overwhelmed to realize how tense he’s become, to feel the way that his brows have gathered together, the way the muscles in his arms and torso have tightened, or the way that his lungs have started to fight against the tube in his throat.
His chest and throat are sending him urgent messages that there’s something wrong, the intrusion of something hard and unyielding that isn’t supposed to be there making him move automatically. Clumsily, he reaches for whatever is making him hurt, uncoordinated limbs heavy and unwieldy.
“Woah, hey, heyheyhey—” he’s intercepted, and Markus flinches from the gentle restraints as they pull his hands away , “—don’t do that, sugar.”
“Markus, can you hear me, buddy?” The pressure around his hand tightens, cold latex rubbing over his knuckles. “Can you squeeze my hand if you can hear me?”
Reflexively, he tries to pull away from the restraints, ignoring the request as his heart gives a discordant thump at the whistle of anxiety thrumming through his chest. He stiffens at the brief flash of real pain through his system, muscles protesting as he begs silently for release. Please, please no. He can’t stand the thought of being held down again, being helpless. But even that small of a movement seems to push concrete through his veins, and he doesn’t know if it’s the fatigue weighing him down or the way the others slowly, gently push his hands back to bed that has him settling.
“Shhh, okay, okay,” his shoulder is engulfed by a soft touch, the deeper voice continuing to soothe him, “you’re okay. Markus, can you open your eyes? It’s Evan and Clint, we’d really like to see you, yeah?”
Clint? Evan? It can’t be. . . He wants to see his friends so badly it hurts, even worse than the building ache in his body, but his eyelids must weigh a hundred pounds. He feels the build up of tears behind his eyelids, the heavy droplets slipping free without permission. Please, please be here. . .
“Fuck, Markus,” one of the voices whispers, cracking over his name, a sniffle accompanying it, “Clint, where’s Catrina? I think he’s hurting pretty bad.”
“I’m gonna go see if I can find her, maybe Olivia’s available. I’ll be right back.” There’s the rush of displaced air, sudden coolness of his skin, but Markus’s weak attention is drawn back by the other’s calming voice.
“Okay, buddy, we’re gonna get you taken care of, alright? It’s Evan, Markus, I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay? I promise.”
Markus wanted to sob. He wanted it to actually be his friend so, so much, he remembered how he’d prayed for his friends but they’d never come. His face creased as a wave of pain rolled through him, teeth clamping down around whatever was in his throat. He heard a muted curse, “Fuck this.”
There was the snap of latex, warmth cupping his cheek, and then the overwhelming sense of Evan had Markus drawing from some reserve of energy that he didn’t even know he had. He turned into the palm against his face, fighting his eyelids until they lifted, light and shapes crossing his vision in a blur, and he heard a wet gasp. “Oh my god, hey,” a calloused thumb swiped over the apple of his cheek, smearing the tears across his skin, “hey, buddy, I’m here, you’re safe, okay?”
He blinked sluggishly, taking too long to reopen his eyes, but he finally found a modicum of focus as he took in the image of one of his best friends. He was still blurred, but the salt and pepper of Evan’s hair was visible over the blue of the mask covering the lower half of his face. He didn’t need to make out the details to know his friend now anyway, the skin contact lighting up parts of his magic not used in months. It was enough to push the pain back momentarily, dulling to a hum rather than a roar.
Evan’s other hand closed back around Markus’s, squeezing gently. “Can you understand me, Markus? Squeeze my hand if you can understand me.”
Slowly, his fingers closed around Evan’s, and he heard his friend give a shuddering gasp as Markus blinked slowly again. There was a rush of movement behind Evan, and the other man turned slightly. “He’s conscious and responsive.”
A startled exclamation, and another broad shouldered figure appeared in front of him, leaning over him. Markus drug his glassy stare over, not quite focusing as even these little movements drained whatever energy he’d gathered. “Hey, hey, sugar,” his free hand was scooped up between two latex covered paws, “God, it’s good to see you awake.”
“Take your gloves off,” Evan ordered, “skin contact seems to help. His vitals dropped back down, too.”
The figure did as he was bid, and Markus shuddered, eyelids dropping as relief and the safety of Clint flooded through him. “Fuck,” Clint whispered, voice broken. As well as he could, Markus drifted his thumb across Clint’s hand, and heard a startled exhale that turned into a shaky, surprised laugh. The relieved joy of his friends was bright, buoying him in reality as it curled up in his chest.
Even with the safety of both of his friends surrounding him, the pain came back with a crescendoing wave. He tensed again, eyebrows pulling together as he shifted minutely. God, my chest hurts, it hurts. A few more tears slipped free, and he tugged weakly at Evan’s hand.
“You hurting, buddy?” He squeezed Evan’s hand, and he heard the entire room shift as Evan gave some sort of signal.
“And that’s where I come in,” a friendly, warm voice interjected, coming closer as Clint released his hand. The impersonal feeling of latex took his friend’s place, and Markus was terrified again. Clint, please don’t let him, please. There was a starburst of panic, and Evan hissed in surprise. The beast master’s hand snapped from Markus’s face in time with a sound of alarm from the faceless entity as the latex was pulled away.
“Sorry, doc,” Evan chuckled lowly, “if you’d felt what I just did, you woulda done the same. Gloves, you’ll understand in a second, trust me.”
There was another snap of latex, and a new, slightly cool hand slid into his own. The sense of deep caring and logic accompanied the doctor’s surprised inhale. “HooKay, that’s new.”
Markus relaxed slowly as he felt the other man’s alarm turn into curiosity and concern, but nothing malicious, as Evan explained. “His magic’s coming back. He’s always been extremely empathic, normally has great control of what you sense from him, but in this circumstance. . .” he trailed off with a sigh, bringing his hand back to brush through Markus’s hair.
“Alright then, no more gloves if we can help it,” the other man’s friendly voice turned back to Markus, taking the news in stride. “Markus, can you open your eyes for me?” His tone was authoritative, but gentle, and Markus did his best to obey as a thumb dragged across his skin.
He only saw a bright sliver of light before his heavy lids became too much. Instead, Markus managed to tighten his hand minutely. That was easier for some reason, he didn’t have to try and make sense of the room, could focus on the safety net Evan provided. His friend hadn’t let go of his hand, the warmth of Evan’s skin warming Markus’s even with his poor circulation.
“Okay, Markus, I understand. Can you squeeze my hand again if you’re in pain?”
His fingers twitched, but Markus’s brain was becoming fuzzy on stress hormones, mired in the negative sensations. His lungs felt sticky, like his heart was turning over in his chest. “Okay, yeah, that heart rate is getting elevated again,” the voice was distant in a way that told him he wasn’t being addressed, “Catrina, let's give him one time dose of 50 mcg fentanyl, intravenous, and he can have an as needed dose of 25mcg every hour, if that’s not enough call me. Monitor for how he continues to tolerate the vent.” The voice came back to address him, “Markus, hang on just a second, okay?”
Evan’s hand swept down to drag the back of his knuckles across the side of his face, the touch exactly what he’d been begging for for months. “Go back to sleep, buddy, we’ll be here when you wake up again.”
“You’re not alone anymore, brother.” Clint’s voice trickled in as a wash of cold flowed over his chest, black swallowing up his lingering consciousness. “I promise.”
#Markus/Lucien Series#Intubated Whumpee#Sedated whumpee#whump#hurt/comfort#urban fantasy#magic#magical whump
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book meme
thank you, jen @det395 !! i feel like this meme got away from me a bit, but no shame! i love talking about books and writing so onward ~under the cut~
1- how many books are too many books in a series?
mhmmmmm i guess it depends on the objective of the series, right? is the plan to have x number of books in the series and if so, when we finally get to the end will it be satisfying considering all the books we’ve read leading up to it? OR is the objective of the premise / characters just to exist doing whatever? both can be done well. i would say a lot rides on how much i trust the author.
2- what do you think about cliffhangers?
so this is meant for cliffhangers in a series like between books? i don’t really care if there’s a cliffhanger as long as i have the next book sitting right next to me. otherwise uh, only if the wait between books is tolerable, because at that point you need to know that the author can clear this mess up, right? there’s this other thing, like you know how if the entire series was already written, then they might release the books a month apart or a quarter apart - that could be alright too. but years in between? not especially a fan. is anyone a fan?
3- hardback or paperback?
jen, you and me are complete opposites here. paperbacks stress me out. i will go out of my way to buy a used hardcover if given the choice. of course, there are some publications i don’t mind in paperback —thinking poetry and super indie books that don’t have a hardcover release OR books where the spines are thin enough they won’t break and i won’t be holding them long enough for them to wear. hardcovers are sturdy and i don’t have to worry i’ll accidentally bend the cover in some damaging way. I am invested in keeping my books nice to the point that i create covers for my books out of kraft paper or brown grocery bags while i am reading them. this is something i started when i was in college and didn’t want these books i was hoping to probably resell get thrashed coming in and out of my bag for all these classes. My home library is probs more half and half paperback/hardcover but if given a choice usually it’s hardcover.
4- least favourite book?
i think it’s good to at least attempt to meet a book on its level. there are lots of books i didn’t like, but i wasn’t meeting them on their level and i know that so we’re ignoring those. i do however have a shelf on my goodreads dedicated to books that i have beef with so i’ll just go off on two of them.....
tana french’s the likeness for being plagiaristic shit. it is essentially poorly concealed alternate universe OC insert fic of the secret history. you’ve got french’s dublin murder squad folks and then this group they are investigating who bear a STRIKING resemblance to the greek students in tsh 🤔. this would be one thing. it is pretty well acknowledged that nothing is original and there are enough changes to The Likeness that MAYBE i could let it slide if not for this other thing: french’s book, the likeness, has lines that are just basically reworded quotes from the secret history and french positions these lines so they are said by the counterpart (essentially same!) character that gave them original life in tsh. i cannot stress this enough: you can HEAR how similar the sentences are and their core intent is always the same. it’s thinly veiled theft! it astounds me that French hasn’t been sued frankly. it is one thing to want to capture some of the genius that tartt’s debut novel holds, but it is completely lazy and disgusting theft to go about it in the way French did with this book. and YES the secret history was published before french’s book. if i could stomach how fucking goddamn boring the likeness was to read it a second time and cite every one of these offenses i would, but that’s yet a third strike against it—it’s too boring to be worth it.
T. Kingfisher’s second book of the Clocktuar War duology : The Wonder Engine. this is a book that i feel violated the contract between writer and reader. the first book feels almost like a YA book. the stakes while described as very high are treated, as actions unfold, as very low. nothing truly irreparable happens until the climax of the second book and the fallout of that action is so off-tone of everything that came before i felt deeply betrayed. no, like, completely betrayed as in it ruined the rest of my afternoon, i am still viscerally angry eight months later, and i will never trust this author again. sure, maybe none of those actions that led to the climax were out-of-character, but there was nothing NOTHING in the proceeding action that even came close to that level of consequence. it’s a pity because right up till that point i was having a really good time. the entire vibe of the rising action to the climax of book one all the way through the rising action of book two was just a quippy fun version of roadtrip/quest - it felt like a comfort read. the abrupt tone shift had all the subtlety of dropping a graphically, brutal murder into Blue’s Clues. you don’t do that - this is a basic tenet of a writer / reader relationship. i’m not touching this bitch’s shit again.
5- Love Triangle, yes or no?
not so much. i like jen before me will scream ‘just be poly.’ love triangles that lead into poly relationships? yes, awesome will be glad i read. but i am at a stage in my life where your standard will-they-won’t-they-love-triangle is just fucking pointlessly frustrating to me. an example: i read a Nic Stone’s book Odd One Out a couple years ago and something about the synopsis or the hype made me think that it would resolve the love triangle that way, so when that did not happen i was incredibly frustrated and immediately wanted to resell the book. it’s the potential of the thing. stone’s book could have been the perfect vehicle for opening up the concept of polyamory to a ya audience but instead just really squandered that potential with weak floundering — in my opinion!
6- the most recent book you just couldn’t finish
uhhhhh i’ve got two and i’m not sure i’ve entirely given up quite yet buuuuuuuut
fucking dune. i got really pissed off with this book. So just…setting aside the whole vaguing at a pedophilically inclined queer coded villain - it’s done so poorly, that it's almost funny? like it doesn’t (as of half way through) actually have any consequence on…anything at all and is tacked on like an afterthought to the end of his scenes. honestly it all could just be cut out entirely with no recourse to the larger story. So my actual beef with this book is the pacing is ATROCIOUS. like yo, not only do you expect me to give a shit about these Atreides cunts, when we just met them and we spend the same amount of time with them IF NOT MORE with the antagonist? but you also expect me to believe Paul was able to just convince the leader of the Arrakis people —the leader of an entire planet!!— with a single fucking sentence??? yeah, not so much. it was not set up for me to believe that Paul could do that! maybe if Kynes hadn’t died immediately after—or at least not died at that moment? baring the fact I thought he was by far the most interesting character, IF he had been convinced by Paul in that scene, it would have been great to see some actual work done around that - with a transfer or a liaise of power between Kynes and Paul and the Fremen. By not having any substantive scene that does it - it begs the question of what the fuck was the point of the character in the first place? unplumbed potential!!! over all there seem to be some key scenes missing to get the reader to where the narrative expects us to be? but the choices made of the characters we spend time with and the moments we see with them, the benefit to the larger story…is not always there. hey herbert, these words you have written aren’t doing what you want them to?? i feel like i should finish it but i reaaaaallly don’t want to :) the only thing i can say is it looks like from the trailer, villeneueve is giving space to these moments so that the viewer can foster a genuine connection with the characters? radical concept.
our lady of perpetual hunger - i started this one optimistically bc i like chef memoirs, but i am at the point where she has just given birth to her son and honestly DON’T CARE. i still haven’t officially given up on it yet since i actually fucking bought it like a dope. i certainly would not have if i knew how much NOT about working the line this was gonna be
7- book you are currently reading
Aside from the failures mentioned above, I am working on the second book in B. Catling’s Vorrh trilogy, The Erstwhile. Also very close to finally finishing Iain Sinclair’s The Last London - there’s a review of his work from the LA Times that goes “One of Sinclair’s greatest skills has always been his ability to take diverse if not chaotic source material and refashion it in a way that sometimes seems downright alchemical” which captures some of the wonder I experience when reading his work. His style and how he creates atmosphere and setting is just unique and astounding.
8- last book you recommended to someone
The Secret History by Donna Tartt. Before that I told my brother to read Eat a Peach, as we both love Anthony Bourdain and David Chang talks about him a bit here, plus it’s just a fucking great book. any book that gives insight into Chang’s methodology and paradigm is worth a shot.
9- oldest book you read
I think it might have to be Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night (which apparently according to wiki premiered on the stage a whole four months before Hamlet so that’s what we’re going with) and if plays don’t count, I don’t care. I think they count and that’s what we’re going with.
10- the most recent book you read ?
Given the previous question, the most recently published book, right? It’s gotta be the one I just finished: The First Collection of Criticism by a Living Female Rock Critic - Revised and Expanded edt., which like just came out this summer. I watched Jessica Hopper’s promo zoom, curtesy of my local indie bookstore, and went ahead and bought it. This was a great decision! It was just what I needed to read these last couple of weeks. i love there’s lots of short pieces that made the read quick and the fact that it’s non-fiction so there was no pressure of a plot or the emotional weight of character investment when I had a lot of big stressors dragging me down irl -it was such a relief. Hopper’s criticism is fun to read and there’s some real art in her appreciation of music here.
11- favourite author?
These are the top in a kind of order but not really: Donna Tartt, Jeff VanderMeer, Megan Whalen Turner, Flannery O’Conner, Chuck Palahniuk, Anthony Bourdain
Other faves very much worth mentioning: Emily O’Neill, Richard Siken, Brandon Sanderson, Warren Ellis, Nathan Englander, Stephen King, Eddie Huang, Carl Hiaassen, Anne Carson, and Iain Sinclair.
12- buying books or borrowing books?
Depends on if my library has it, of course! I nearly always see if my library has a copy first if i have never read it or the author before. If i’ve read the book before or trust the author, I’ll buy it. Like I’ll straight out buy new stuff from Jeff VanderMeer even though with him it’s either this-hits-exactly-and-is-my-new-fave or i-really-disliked-this-but-admire-the-boundaries-you’re-pushing-my-dude - so it’s always a gamble but a worthy one.
12- a book you dislike that everyone else seems to love
a little life (just bc it's torture porn elevated to art doesn’t negate the fact that it’s torture porn. Yanagihara’s project here is repugnant and the fact that this book is lauded as moving lgbt fiction makes my skin crawl)
sharp objects (good writing, compelling story, BUT typographical scarification doesn't work like that - i am not going to get into it but i know from first hand experience how Flynn described it is not accurate)
nesbø’s the snowman (what kinda dumbass detective would think THAT when a woman finds her missing father’s corpse? absolute idiocy - so obviously reverse engineered with that end in mind)
the raven cycle (fuck ronan lynch to start and then fuck him to end as well - there’s some other stuff but mostly he’s a total CUNT and if i don’t say that once a day i have probably died)
14 - bookmarks or dogears?
Bookmarks and sticky notes. Then I can place it pointing directly to the paragraph I last stopped on.
15- The book you can always reread?
This is my question because I reread all the time. ALL THE TIME. Books I reread often: The Secret History, Medium Raw (especially chapter 17 The Fury), Crooked Kingdom, The Violent Bear It Away, and The Goldfinch. Every year like clockwork (since it came out apparently) I will reread Stephen King’s The Outsider.
Other books I feel the urge to reread: VanderMeer’s Acceptance, Englander’s Dinner at the Center of the Earth, Frazier’s Nightwoods, Fresh Off the Boat, the Mr. Mercedes trilogy, the Peter Grant Series (which is queued up for another go here soon I think), any of the stories from A Good Man is Hard to Find, Sanderson’s Wax and Wayne Mistborn books, simon vs the homosapiens’ agenda, and there are two of Alan Morinis’ books on Mussar that I am technically always revisiting—when i need a reminder, i’ll jump around and read specific sections to get centered again.
16- can you read while listening to music?
Yes, but only ambient or near ambient (only usually one track on repeat) or a soundtrack I am extremely familiar with. No new music. I do usually need some audio stimulation or my mind will wander terribly.
17- one POV or multi POV?
Multi pov can certainly be done well (looking at the soc duaology and VanderMeer’s Acceptance) but working a multi-pov means there are more plates spinning, it’s more of a challenge, and some authors pull it off better than others.
18- do you read book in one sitting or in multiple days?
I don’t really do this anymore. that might have something to do with me picking up thicker books? but also i have a full time job now and let’s be real the book has to be hella good if i don’t want to put it down. the last book i attempted to shotgun was the final installment of my favorite series and it still took me two days so....i can get through a lot of books but none of them are ever in one sitting anymore.
19- who to tag:
@sybilius @mouth-rainboy @iwonderifthatisart @phereinnike @magnificentmoose @wambsgangs @moriarteaparty and anyone else if you feel so inclined!
Bonus Question: What’s on your to-read shelf?
As for me, I am excited about one i just picked up, Danforth’s Plain Bad Heroines, which i might start tomorrow and I will be taking Paul Madonna’s Come to Light on my trip to see my brother this coming weekend.
#this took a while but was fun#thanks again jen#very excited to read other folks responses#also like a general content warning? i mention/refer to things in the books but nothing's unpacked here#still to be cautious reference to mature themes#the narrator feeling posthumous
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The Wonders of Ohio P.5
masterlist (check here for parts 1-4!)
request guidelines
pairing: draco x reader
request: from 14 year old me babey
warnings: cringe, mentions of drug use, mentions of sex, language, and just bad writing
summary: y/n is in her senior year of high school when she is asked to take on an exchange student from britain that’s a little...different. this is NOT a nonmagic AU. draco is still a wizard and this will become and integral part of the story shortly.
a/n: heyyyy everyone. i graduated from high school this week and i’m posting this as my happy-one-year-to-me. as some of you may know, i posted my very first fic on this day a year ago. i’m really happy to see how i’ve grown since and i’m so lucky to have shared this with all of you. anyways, nittygritty--
this part is really the last slow exposition chapter. chapters 6 on will be a whole whirlwind beginning with homecoming and i hope that you guys are willing to stick around. i promise itll be worth the wait. y/n is going to get the story arc of a lifetime and also please do not hate heather she is just going through it ok
anywayssssssss
tags tags tags @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural
word count: 4.6k (;))
song recs:
strawberry blonde -- mitski
in your neighbors garden -- mimi bay
wishes -- beach house
ode to artifice -- samia
pink in the night -- mitski
enjoy <3
The seatbelt buckle scorched the side of Y/N’s exposed neck as she turned to face the disheveled blonde in the passenger seat.
“Do I need to teach you to set an alarm?”
Draco let out a huff. “Stop. Do you have a….a comb, or a brush, or something here?” His hands looked abnormally fidgety. Their actions were shaky, varying from patting his pockets to running through his hair. He seemed more and more frustrated each time his hands left his pockets empty.
How curious Y/N thought as she racked her brain for any remembrance of putting a brush in her car. It was always a mess, and she honestly couldn’t blame Draco for assuming that anything could be in there.
“I don’t think there’s one here,” said Y/N, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic despite the fact that his tardiness had them 10 minutes late. “You can look around if you want, king.”
“What’d you call me?” His voice was suddenly sharp and awake.
Y/N rolled her eyes so hard that she thought they’d get stuck in the back of her head. “You don’t--ok. It’s a joke. You can call guys here that.”
“And it means that I’m…?”
“It means I’m acknowledging that you exist, I guess. It’s not like it has a strict negative or positive connotation. Like, I can say ‘Ok king’ to any man telling me something and it can either be sarcastic, or it can be because I don’t know what else to say and just want to let him know I heard him.”
Draco’s eyes looked a tad glazed over when Y/N dared a glance in his direction.
“I know it’s confusing. I’m sorry. I’ll try and ease you into the world of American slang.”
He granted her a little “uh-huh” before opening up the glovebox with great difficulty and rummaging through the mess. Y/N would’ve felt more embarrassed about the tampon that fell on the ground in the process if he seemed like he actually knew what it was.
Her attention turned back to the road as Draco continued to sift through things. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything embarrassing hidden away in the corners of her car--after all, it hadn’t been organized since the beginning of summer--and decided that it was better to pretend it wasn’t happening.
It wasn’t the eerie silence that eventually prompted her to turn to look his direction--no, it was the weird energy in the car, like the feeling right before a thunderstorm. All the hair raised on her arms, and she shivered...but it was stifling hot in the car.
“Oh, did you find a brush?” she asked. His hair laid as perfectly as always, but his hands were lying shaking in his lap, palms to the sky. No hairbrush was in sight.
“Er... “ He was paler than usual, which was quite the feat for someone who looked like a ream of paper. “No. Just remembered a trick my father taught me.”
She tensed at the mention of his father--the very first time Draco had done so. “Oh. Okay. Glad you got it figured out, king.”
Her voice lightened on the last word, hoping she could coax a little smile out of him.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Ok.”
oOo
There were many things Y/N thought she understood, but Draco Malfoy being in her Physics C class was not one of them. She took pity and sat next to him as he fumbled his way through the first lecture. His notes, while neat, were littered with crossed out portions and question marks.
You do know there’s an eraser on your pencil, right? she jotted on a note that she sent his way. His brow furrowed and he seemed to tap at the end of the eraser for just a few moments before deciding otherwise and xing out another practice problem he’d done incorrectly. Symbols that she’d never seen before were scattered all throughout his notes.
Maybe the UK kids just learn stuff differently.
By the time that Physics came to an end, Y/N was eager to get away from the storm cloud that was brewing over Draco’s perfectly smoothed and infuriatingly pretty moonbeam colored hair. The amount of attention he was getting from all the other girls made Y/N want to jump off a cliff--suddenly everyone was her “best friend” “just wanting to check up on what happened over summer”. She was grateful to see the face of Lizzy, grinning and looking mischievous during their break period.
“You must be Draco,” said the redhead, a glint in her eyes. He looked a little scared.
“Er...yeah.”
“Mind giving us some privacy? Y/N and I have some urgent matters to discuss,” she continued, looking him up and down. Y/N attempted to ignore the twist in her gut as she watched him swallow and nod, turning away to go brood elsewhere. Once he was out of sight, Lizzy grabbed her arm and yanked her into the girl’s bathroom.
“It’s so funny how he’s following you around like a lost puppy,” Lizzy said. “Also, he’s gorgeous. If you don’t at least try to get some of that, then I’m never trusting your judgement again.”
“But, Li-”
“The boy’s a fucking walking Wattpad story cover. Dark, tragic past, unbelievably sharp jawline, rich parents, exotic accent....honestly, Y/N, I don’t know what else you could want.”
“Mom literally called him my host brother,” said Y/N. The bathroom was starting to smell suspiciously like cotton candy. “That’s wrong. On so many levels.”
“But you’re not related!”
“But it’s gross! And predatory! The kid doesn’t even know how to do basic algebra! I’m all he has!”
Lizzy’s eyebrow found its new home in the middle of her forehead. “You’ve gone absolutely batty if you think that every girl cursed with attraction to men in Cincinnati wouldn’t jump his skin at the chance. Use your head, queenie. He’s not alone. Shoot your shot.”
Y/N opened her mouth to serve back a retort--that was definitely there, thank you very much--but decided against it once she realized that the bathroom had become dead silent. “Um...maybe we can go over this later.” She flickered her eyes over to the line behind them that was now intently hanging on their every word. “I forgot I had to talk to the counselor.”
Lizzy was smirking as they exited the bathroom and began the search for Draco. It didn’t take long--the circle comprised of Heather and her friends was more than enough of a giveaway that he was about.
“Draco, sorry to make you wait,” Y/N called out. It took all her effort to abstain from cringing as her voice rang out across the group. Heather turned to send her a big smile.
“Hey Y/N! You didn’t tell me that Draco was from London!”
“He’s not,” she responded. “He’s from Wiltshire.”
“Wiltshire. Of course. That’s what I meant.”
Draco’s smile was tense as he looked down at Heather--who stood roughly 4 inches below him--but he was smiling, and that wasn’t something that Y/N was on the receiving end of frequently. She didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved.
“I’m sure. Break’s almost over, Draco. I can show you where the English department is before the time is up.”
He paused, looking down at the blonde grinning up at him. “Er, actually, Heather already offered to show me around for the rest of the day.”
“Yeah, for sure. I’ll see you in French.”
Y/N was shocked at the sheer amount of jealousy that rose up in her throat as she turned away and made her way to Art History---the only class Y/N and Draco didn’t share. The walk was strange. Being in solitude after having a gloomy British boy attached to her hip was understandably eerie. Because that’s all it was. Adjustment. Nothing else.
She settled in at a table full of her friends, namely Sylvia. The tall girl was always a bit whimsical, but Y/N found that she was a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else. It made sense that Sylvia would take Art History--her dark academic inspired aura and the perpetually hot mug of black coffee just screamed history nut.
“How’s your new brother?” she asked after the teacher had taken attendance. “I say that because I haven’t heard his name yet.”
“Ick, it’s gross to think of him as my brother,” Y/N responded. “And I know! We need to catch up. I’m sorry about not talking to you for a bit. The time difference was a bit weird during your trip.”
“It’s ok, I get it. I was away on family business, anyways. I didn’t expect you to spend your days staying up until the wee hours of the night to tell me all about your exchange student. Anyways. His name?”
“You’re gonna scream when you hear it, Vie,” she said. “Draco Malfoy. It’s so posh. You have no idea. It definitely suits him, though. He’s very...You good?”
Sylvia’s olive toned face looked a bit paler than usual. “Yeah. Yeah, I just remembered that I forgot to take the trash out this morning. I’ll have to text my mom about it.” She adjusted the wool cardigan that hung around her shoulders and came up looking composed. “Draco, huh? His parents must hate him.”
“At the very least! He’s so rude. And uptight. I can’t tell if it’s just a Brit thing or if it’s because he’s an asshole.”
Sylvia laughed. “I mean, when I was there over the summer, it was a different culture for sure. We’re by far louder. But I didn’t meet many mean ones. You must’ve just got a bad apple, then.”
“I guess so. He is pret--”
“Ladies, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”
“No, Mrs. Jensen,” Sylvia and Y/N said in unison.
oOo
“Thoughts, king?”
“I told you not to call me that.” Draco glared at her as he tried to open the passenger side door to find that it was locked tight. “Unlock? Please?”
“And I told you not to get cozy with ASB kids, yet here we are,” said Y/N as she slotted the key into the lock and turned.
“What’s it to you?”
“Nothing. I’m just looking out for you.” She slammed the door shut and threw her bag in the bag. The line of traffic to get out of the school was long and stuffy, and she was eager to just get it over with.
The wait was so hot that Draco peeled off his stupid formalish jacket that was on thin ice of being called a blazer and probably worth more than her car. Y/N tried to look away as his hair became slightly ruffled, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away. It was endearing, almost, how someone who could look so posh and serious could have ruffly hair--and hair that naturally light, too. She had asked him one night if it was dyed, and he scowled at her and told her the grammatically correct term was dead, and that his hair was alive, just like the rest of him, thank you very much. She dropped it.
Y/N finally rolled down her window after the AC simply refused to satisfy her, and the wind was a nice reminder to keep in her own lane. Draco was beautiful. There was no other way to put it. He had a feel of power to him, like he was capable of anything but just held it back. But he was just as inaccessible as he was pretty, and there was nothing she could do about that.
“Y/N?” He asked after a few moments of sitting in silence. “What’s Homecoming?”
“Who told you about that?”
“Heather. She asked if I had a date. Is that like a ball here?”
“She asked you if you had a date on the first day?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck. ASB kids never do sleep, huh.”
“What?”
“Homecoming isn’t a ball. It’s like a...an…” Y/N paused as she saw Draco raise his eyebrows. “It’s, like, uh….Well I guess it is like a ball. An American one, though. Way less extravagant. It’s an excuse to get dressed up and run around the city. There technically is a dance, and all the ASB kids have to go, but literally no one else does but the underclassmen. Normally I go out with my friends and a date to somewhere fun and take pictures. And then get trashed afterwards.”
“Classy,” said Draco. “I think you can go now.”
A honk behind her emphasized his point as the space in between her and the car in front widened substantially.
“Thanks. Anyways, it’s not really a big deal. I’d suggest not going with Heather so you can skip out on the dance portion. Or if you want to go with her, get her to come with us into Cincinnati because I am not going to spend my last homecoming watching a grind circle.”
“A...what circle? And I don’t want to go with her.”
The relief Y/N felt was embarrassing. “Um...better if you don’t worry about it. You have a long time to figure it out anyways.”
He seemed satisfied with that answer, propping his elbow up on the center console. The pristine button up he was wearing had ridden up, exposing the pale skin and the bottom of the tattoo she had seen a hint of earlier. “Do you have a date?”
“Um. No, not yet. I don’t think anyone except for couples do yet. We have until the end of this month to figure it out, so I’m not too worried about it.”
He nodded as Y/N’s car finally left the school parking lot and began picking up speed.
“I’m assuming you had balls? At your posh boarding school?”
“Er…” Draco ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it further. “We only had one. It was when I was 14. We called it the Yule Ball.”
“Why only one?”
“It was for a special occasion. We had two other schools join us as well. It was quite a good time.”
“So every student only has one ball in their lifetime?”
“Of course not. Some of us--the ones from old families--have events like that regularly.”
“I’m sorry if this is overstepping my bounds,” began Y/N, noticing how he tensed up, “So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But, I’m just wondering, what is your family like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like are they nice?”
“Oh.” The line in his forehead relaxed. “No. They wouldn’t like you.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said. “Do you like them?”
She heard the breath hitch in his throat. “I don’t know anymore.”
“I’m sure it’s hard to think about it when you feel like they’ve just shipped you off without anyone,” she added. “I’m really sorry, Draco. I know I’ve been a bit mean to you. I know that I’ll never be able to understand what you’re going through right now.”
The slight smile that spread across his face would’ve knocked her to her knees if she wasn’t already sitting down. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
The silence that awaited them for the rest of the journey was comfortable.
oOo
School began to pick up the pace after the first few days. Y/N got into the swing of homework and her extracurricular workload. Draco was having a bit more difficulty, she presumed, but he’d never admit to it. She took pity one evening and gave him her laptop opened to a Khan Academy tab for Physics and was pleased to see that he showed up to class the next day with completed homework. He asked to borrow her laptop on a much more frequent basis after that.
The routine they settled into had her heart leaping into her chest almost constantly--they’d eat breakfast together at the table, Y/N would try to ignore how pretty he looked across the table as they shared a pot of black tea (earl grey, which Y/N was thrilled to learn was his favorite as well), they’d get in the car, she’d write him notes in physics to help him (even though he never asked, he always smile and give a little shake of his head before unfolding them and intently staring at her writing), they’d drive home together and bitch about their French teacher, he’d retire to his room and do whatever pretty blonde Brits do in the afternoon, they’d meet unexpectedly at the same time in the late evening to have a final cup of tea, and then they’d go to bed and do it all over again.
It was difficult for her to admit, but Y/N was falling very quickly for Draco. It was gross, and wrong, and manipulative, and completely against the code of conduct for exchange families, but she couldn’t help but spend her days fantasizing about how his gold-spun hair would feel as she ran her fingers through it or how gently she’d trace her fingers around the tattoo on the soft flesh of his forearm…
But Y/N knew those thoughts weren’t right. And they would go away. Eventually.
“How’s it going?” Sylvia asked, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts. The Art History sub told them to go into independent study, whatever that meant. Y/N was not very good at either of those words.
“Pretty good. I can’t believe it’s been 3 weeks already,” she said. “It’s gonna be Halloween before we know it.”
“I can’t fucking waitttt,” said Sylvia. “I’m gonna be Wednesday Addams.”
“Again?”
“What else would I be? I get a new high collared black dress every year. It’d be a shame if it were going to go to waste. What are you gonna be?”
“One of the thousands of students finishing their UChicago ED app hours before the deadline.”
“You’re kidding. Can’t you just finish it the day before?”
“Where’s the fun in that? And, plus, I don’t have an idea as cool as Wednesday.”
Sylvia smirked as she opened up her planner and began to jot down something. “How’s Draco doing? I haven’t seen much of him lately. It seems like he never hangs out with us at break anymore.”
“Yeah, I ended up getting him connected with the Physics teacher. He’s getting tutored now. He thinks it’s all bullshit, but I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t get into a good school.”
“Is that all you care about?” She smiled at Y/N. “Lizzy was telling me that you’re interested in him.”
“First of all, keep your voice down. Second of all, I’m not supposed to be, so I’m not.” Y/N hoped that the edge in her voice was convincing enough.
Her friend raised her eyebrows so dramatically that her glasses nearly slipped off her nose. “Y/N, who’s gonna hear about it. You guys are both going away at the end of the year anyways, and I’m sure he’s not going to be writing to his dear mum about his love life. If it’s consensual, there’s nothing wrong with it. I think it’d be good for both of you.”
“I see that, but let’s put me in his shoes right now.” Y/N shuffled in her seat and clasped her hands. “I’m rich. I’m British. I’m very hot. My parents throw extravagant balls for me and I kiss pretty girls that say water like ‘wota’. I’ve spent my life in silk and I only drink the finest teas. My family is so important that I had to be shipped off halfway across the world just to be safe. And now my incredibly expensive life has reached a peak because I’m sleeping with a random girl in Ohio that has run approximately 4 stop signs since I’ve met her.”
“You’re sleeping with Draco?”
Y/N turned to see Lauren, a wide-eyed, obnoxious, but well meaning girl staring at her. She heard Sylvia stifle a laugh behind her. “No. I was kidding.” The smile that she followed with was awkward and showed way too many teeth.
“Oh, okay,” said Lauren. “Do you know if he likes anyone?”
Sylvia’s smirk widened.
“No, actually, he’s a pretty private guy.” Y/N sent her another tense smile, and Lauren finally turned away.
“Jealous, huh?”
“Shut up, Vie. You know I wouldn’t go for him. Even if I had the chance.”
She just raised an eyebrow and smiled.
The afternoon brought its own set of struggles. Their French teacher had blown up at another student who had been caught cheating on their last test, and it was all Y/N could do but hold back her snickers until they were out in the parking lot.
“I can’t believe they still managed to conjugate their cheat sheet wrong.” Y/N was gasping for breath as she unlocked the car door and threw her stuff inside. Draco was watching from the passenger seat, his lips in a soft upturn. “Can you imagine? Oh my god.”
He just shook his head and turned to look out the window, but she could see the smile slowly stretching across his face. “Ridiculous. You could totally tell Monsieur enjoyed it, too. I bet he gets off on making kids like Joey cry.”
“I had a teacher like that,” he started. “He was a Poti-a chemistry teacher.”
“Oh? Did he ever attack you?”
“No. He liked me. Family friends and all.”
“Ah. I almost forgot that your family was rich and influential. Thanks for the reminder.” She reached across and lightly punched his shoulder. His smile, though still remaining, seemed to shrink. “Hey, what’s that in your bag?”
Y/N motioned to the cardstock peeking out of his nondescript black backpack that always seemed to fit more than it was meant to. She could make out a few words written in what looked like a bright red sharpie--something that did not exactly scream Draco Malfoy aesthetic.
He froze up. “Er. It’s from Heather. I think she called it a Homecoming ask?”
Y/N’s throat dried up to the point that no words would willingly make the climb from her diaphragm to her tongue; instead, she settled for giving him a little nod and what she hoped was a convincing smile.
“I told her I’d think about it,” he continued. “I remember you saying that the school dances sucked. So I let her know that I wasn’t sure yet.”
She nodded again. “Super cool. You can do whatever you want, though. You can come with my group if you’d like, but you’re welcome to go with Heather’s.”
“What? So you aren’t coming with me if I go with Heather?”
“Fuck no, dude. I don’t hate her, but I would way prefer to spend a night with my friends than some girl from my French class that only talks to me because she thinks you’re hot.”
The expression Draco made reminded Y/N that he would never get comfortable with American girls calling him hot. “Ok. Have you found a date yet?”
“Chad from Econ asked me yesterday.”
“Is that why my seat was covered in glitter?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going with him?” Draco’s hand was clenched tight in a fist in his lap.
“I think so,” said Y/N, steeling herself and deciding to just go for it. “But, of course, if you asked me I would say no to Chad. Just out of principle. I am supposed to be your tour guide, after all.”
The only parts of him moving were the few stray wisps of his hair being pushed around by the AC going.
“But that’d be weird. I’d only expect you to take that up if you really didn’t want to go to the dance itself.” She swallowed and pulled out onto the main street, putting distance between them and the school. He was silent for a few moments. The quiet, normally comfortable between them, was stifling and strange. She pretended to ignore the way he was fiddling with his cuffs.
“Yeah, it could be,” was all he said before slumping against the window and closing his eyes.
Mrs. Y/L/N was sitting at the head of the coffee table when the two arrived home, carding between a stack of letters in front of her. The mug of something--probably that new decaf blend she hadn’t stopped raving about--was sitting lopsided on a coaster, just barely about to topple off the edge. She looked like she hadn’t moved for hours, the novel she had been previously reading sat face down to preserve the spot next to her no doubt lukewarm drink.
“Hey Mom,” Y/N said as she set her keys down. “Anything good?”
She looked up, her expression morphing from startled to happy. “Other than the college brochures? Nothing, except...hm, what’s this?”
Her well manicured hand pulled at a crimson envelope, with sloping writing that seemed to shimmer in the light.
To the Y/L/N Family, it read. The loopiness of the writing looked like it wiggled at the ends, but that had to be a trick of the light. It was dim in the kitchen during afternoons, after all.
“It looks cool, open it u--”
“No!”
Draco’s voice had never sounded so loud as it did then as he lunged across the kitchen, snatching it out of her mother’s hand and clutching it to his chest. “Er, it’s for me. I recognize the handwriting.”
“Cool, see you later,” said Y/N. She was up the stairs and slamming her door before either of her housemates could say another word. After the horrible embarrassment that was technically Draco’s rejection, she needed to be alone.
Even burying her face into her pillow and squeezing her eyes shut didn’t keep the scenes from their car ride at bay. She had been so stupid, so stupid. Why did she even think he wanted that? He was her brother, after all. Oh god, does he think we’re all from Alabama or something?
She wallowed for a few more mournful minutes before deciding that she had to pick herself up and handle it like an adult. After all, she was going to be 18 in just a few months. There was no excuse for her to act like a child anymore. And, plus, it wasn’t like she couldn’t just play this off as a pity invite. Yes,that’s what she’d frame this as if he ever asked her about it again. She felt bad for him was all it was.
Once satisfied with her internal dialogue, she rolled out of bed and made for the foyer where her bag was still on the table. She’d first walk on Legos barefoot before she had to let a stupid boy--especially one that didn’t know how to turn on their shower and had to ask for her help every time--come between her and her 4.0. Never.
Her thoughts were cut short, however, when she heard a new sound from his side of the hallway. She froze, listening closely.
Draco was crying.
#draco x reader#draco malfoy x reader#draco imagine#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy#draco#draco x you#draco x y/n#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco lucius malfoy#draco x oc#draco malfoy x oc
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