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cherrycola27 · 9 months

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false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and eventual smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

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Chapter 6: My Type

You and Bradley were both thankful that you were at a good place again in your friendship. The two of you returned to your previous routine of your Wednesday night hangouts, and the rest of August slipped away into a moment in time. September brought you two closer together as you still danced around the line of friends or something more.

It also brought along Mickey's birthday, and after the way the last party ended, the squad was ready to have a fun night out that didn't end in chaos.

Fanboy had never outgrown his punk rock phase, and for his birthday, he asked that every attend a cover band concert La Jolla. He had gone all out and even rented a party bus to take the group to and from the venue. Unfortunately, you had plans that night and wouldn't be able to attend. You made sure to send him a nice gift, though. Mickey was over the moon when he opened the autograph Star Trek poster and immediately forgave you for missing out on the fun.

Bradley, however, was extremely disappointed in the fact that you weren't coming. He was hoping that tonight would finally be his chance to lay his feelings on the line for you, but instead, he was drinking a beer, sandwiched between Payback and Bob, while Jake and Coyote made use of the stripper poles in the bus.

When they arrived, he couldn't wait to get off and get some fresh air. He had texted you a few times, but you hadn't responded. He checked his phone again to see that his messages were still unread. He sighed in disappointment before tucking his phone away and heading inside with everyone else.

Inside, an EDM DJ was playing some throwback Coldplay while a few techs were setting up for the band. The Daggers found a section near the right side and settled in. They gave their drink orders to a waitress who winked and Mickey when she found out it was his birthday.

Moments later, she returned with drinks and the promise to come back and see if they would need anything later.

With his whiskey in hand, Bradley leaned over to Fanboy and asked, "What's the name of this band again?"

Fanboy rolled his eyes. "The Styx. They do a mix of punk rock, eighties hits, pop, and some original songs. I heard them at a festival about a year and a half ago, and I've seen them a few places here and there. I'm pretty excited to see them again, though. Their lead singer left the band about five months ago to go solo, and apparently, an old friend of the lead guitarist stepped up and has been with them. I haven't heard her, but apparently, she's way better than the old singer." Fanboy explains.

Bradley nods his head and sinks back into his chair as he and everyone else waits for the show to start.

About ten minutes later, the DJ finishes, and some filler music comes through the speakers. The owner of the bar tells everyone that the band will start shortly. More people pour in. Bradley's mind wanders to you, and what you might be doing tonight.

...............

"How's the crowd out there?" You ask Lyla as she checks over her guitar once more. "The energy is fantastic. The place is pretty packed, too." She tells you with a smile.

"Great." You sigh.

A packed house

More people to watch you fail

"Don't worry, babe, you're going to kill it like you always do!" Mariana, the drummer and Lyla's sister, tells you. "Exactly. Just relax, we've got this!" Derrick, the bass player, says to the group. "If anyone boos, I will jump off the stage and shove my keyboard down their throat." Trent, Derrick's husband tells you. You can't help but laugh. You want to say something witty back, but you hear the stage manager start to introduce the group.

You can do this

You love doing this

You're going to be great

You take a deep breath and give yourself a once over in the mirror before stepping out. You look good— really good.

Netted tights cover your legs before disappearing under your cut-off denim shorts that show off your thigh tattoos.

A cropped black vintage Bon Jovi shirt covers your torso. You've cut some of the neck out of the shirt, so the lace of your bralette underneath is visible. Layers of silver chains with charms hug your neck and cleavage. A red flannel is tied around your waist.

Heavy, black, Doc Marten boots are on your feet, and your hair is loose and wild around your face. Sultry dark makeup graces your features, and you've traded your signature cherry red pout for a sensual shade of burgundy.

Rings and bracelets adorned your fingers and wrists. You truly looked the part of a rock queen. You look like sex on legs

Maybe you should pay Bradley a visit after this was over

You were broken from your thoughts by the cheers of the crowd. You took a deep breath as the rest of the group stepped out onto the stage. It was dark, thankfully, you couldn't make any faces out, and they couldn't see you just yet.

You turned to Lyla and the rest of the band who gave you the go-ahead.

..........

The Daggers, especially Fanboy, waited with baited breath as the band set up. Bradley sat there with a fresh glass of whiskey and prayed they were as good as Fanboy had made them out to be. There was nothing worse than sitting through a shitty band.

Soon, the opening sounds of Fallout Boy's "Centuries" filled the room. The band stayed shrouded in dim lights until the opening chorus finished, and then bright lits illuminated the stage.

Fanboy screamed in excitement as he leaned over to say something to Fritz, but Bradley's eyes didn't leave the stage. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He wasn't drunk. Surely, his mind had to be playing tricks on him.

Just as he was about to say something, it seemed like the entire group came to the realization at the same time.

"Oh my shit." Jake said. "It's that—"

"That's Hades." Bradley said before Jake could finish his question. "Holy shit." Bradley breathed out as he watched you on the stage.

You owned the space. You presses filled the room and demanded the attention of the crowd.

Bradley was captivated by you. He knew that he was attracted to you before. He'd tried so hard to keep his feelings pushed down, and when he kissed you, he knew he'd ruined his chances. But then—then you wanted to be his friend again, and he got the chance to fall for you all over again.

And this time, he fell harder.

Now, there was no denying his attraction for you. As he watched you on that stage, enthralled with your beauty and this new side of you he'd never seen before, Bradley couldn't help but let his mind wander.

The music continues, but now, it's all background noise to Bradley.

He isn't even sure what song you are singing right now. He's too busy watching the way your body moves to the beat and how he's sure you wore that outfit just to mess with him.

He knows that the last part isn't true because surely you didn't know that the Daggers would be here tonight. Fanboy had only asked if you were free tonight. He'd never told you the plans, but in the back of Bradley's mind, he likes to think that you wore that cropped Bon Jovi tee for him and the moment you'd shared months ago.

He watches the hem of your shirt catch on your fingertips as you drag your hands up your body and sway with the music. Bradley hasn't stopped staring at the patch of skin that is just visible between it and the waistband of your jean shorts. He is eager to know what you might have on under it and how it would look on his bedroom floor.

Maybe it was wrong of him to think it, but Bradley didn't care.

Haunting melodies poured from your wine colored lips. They weaved through the crowd and flooded his ears. Bradley was hanging onto every word you sang. His mind wandered as he wondered if his name would sound just as pretty as your songs did when it tumbled from your lips as he brought you to the peak of pleasure.

You were absolutely fearless in the way you put on a show. You worked the room and had everyone captivated. Bradley hoped that one day, he'd be able to find out if you would put on a show just for him in the privacy of his bedroom.

God, you were so fucking beautiful up there. And he knows he probably looks like an absolute ass because he has been ignoring the rest of your friends for almost the entire forty-five minutes you've been on the stage, but he can't help it.

He's so awestruck by you and this part of your life. It's another piece of the puzzle that makes you so unique and so amazing to him.

You're smart, witty, beautiful, funny, and talented on more than one front. Bradley loves that he's learned something new about you.

He wants to learn more new things about you. He wants to add more pieces to the puzzle until he has the whole picture.

He would give anything to spent eternity figuring you out.

You announce the final song of your set list, a rock cover of "Bad Romance," and Bradley finds it ironic because he would take any kind of romance with you. Good or bad.

With this being the last song, you go wild. You release all your inhibitions as you move about the stage and command the room, just like you command the sky.

Bradley has to discreetly adjust himself through his jeans because he gets distracted by the way your necklaces move.

The layers of silver chains of various lengths with charms scattered throughout them hugged your neck in the best way. Bradley didn't realize he could be jealous of a few pieces of jewelry, but as he grips his glass of whiskey tighter, he finds himself longing to replace them with his hands. He just knows that you'd look so fucking beautiful with his long fingers wrapped around your throat while he fucked you like the good girl he knows you would be for him.

Just when he thought you couldn't surprise him anymore, that night, you prove him wrong. When the bridge of the song comes up, you switch to singing in French. French? Since when did you know another language?

Now he wanted to know if you were fluent in it, and if you were, would you talk dirty to him in it. Fuck, you were still a mystery to him, in the best way.

As the song came to an end, you hit your knees for the final high note, and the entire crowd jumped up and screamed for you, the Daggers included. Bradley isn't embarrassed to say that he was definitely the loudest.

After you and the rest of the band thanked everyone for coming out and bidded the audience farewell, Bradley watched you disappear behind a black curtain.

More filler music started up as the squad sat down and looked at each other.

"So, Hades moonlights as a rockstar." Coyote said, breaking the silence of the group.

"Would it be weird if I asked her to get me an autograph from her band mates?" Fanboy asked.

"I don't think so. I just can't believe she didn't tell us." Phoenix said as she finished her beer.

"We all have things that we don't tell everyone about. Maybe she was afraid we'd make fun of her or something. Plus, have you met some of us? A few members of our group aren't the best at respecting other people's feelings." Bob said as he and everyone stared directly at Jake.

"For the last time, I apologized to her! Jeez!" Jake said as he threw his hands up in defense.

.............

Once off the stage, you downed a bottle of water and panted to catch your breath.

"We were amazing tonight!" Derrick cheers as he puts his bass away. "Hades, you killed it with the vocals!" Trent compliments you.

"I'm just glad you didn't have to fight an audience member, I doubt your husband would have bailed you out of jail—again." You needle Trent.

"Oh my gosh, it was one time, and they dropped the charges." Trent huffed.

Lyla and Mariana laugh as they put their things away. "You guys want to get a drink? To celebrate a successful show?" Mariana asks. "Absolutely. Hades, if you keep this up, we might not ever let you go!" Lyla tells you as she slings an arm around your shoulder.

"Lyla, I told you, I'm just helping you our until you can find someone to replace Candice." You tell her.

Lyla shakes her head as the five of you head out of the backstage area and to the bar. You take a seat with your back to the crowd. A few patrons come up and speak to all of you, but none linger too long. You've just put your pomegranate margarita to your lips when you hear a familiar voice call, "Well what do we have here? If it ain't Hades."

You set your drink down and spin on your stool. You're shocked when you turn around and see all twelve of your friends and coworkers standing in front of you.

"Oh my gods, what are you guys doing here?" You ask them.

"This is what I had planned for my birthday." Fanboy tells you.

"Oh, Mick, I had no idea. You should have told me, and I could have gotten you a front row spot!" You tell him.

"You could have told us you were a rockstar." Phoenix says.

You don't have a chance to respond before Lyla says, "Well, aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, sorry. Guys, this is Lyla, we were stationed together in Lemoore a few years ago. She was my wingman until she hung up her wings to be a mechanic. And this is her sister Mariana and Derrick and his husband Trent, and they are The Styx." You say.

"We are The Styx." Lyla corrects you.

After a few polite hellos, you turn to your squadron. "And guys, this is Fanboy, Payback, Halo, Omaha, Bob, Phoenix, Yale, Harvard, Fritz, Coyote, Hangman, and—Bradley." You say as you point out each one of them.

"Bradley—er—Rooster, is my new wingman." You tell your band mates.

"You are a lucky duck to be flying with her." Lyla tells Rooster. "She saved my ass several times."

"Don't let her fool you, Lyla had my back, too." You smile.

"So, Hades, how did you end up doing—this?" Bob asks you, never failing to address the elephant in the room.

"Lyla and I lived together in the barracks. We used to do karaoke on the weekends. She always played a little and decided she wanted to do music more seriously. Unfortunately, Lyla was in a training accident and shattered her left hip." You told them. You wince at that detail. It had been the one time that you weren't flying with her because an admiral had pulled you into a meeting.

"Not too long after Lyla's accident, I was transferred. We kept in touch, and she told me to call her if I was ever back in California." You told them.

"And I couldn't get back in a plane anymore after that, so I took to fixing them and playing guitar in my spare time. At an open mic night, Mariana and I met Derrick and Trent and Candice, our former lead singer. We hit it off, and The Styx was born." Lyla explains.

"But, Candice thought she was too good for us and moved to L.A. five months ago, " Mariana adds.

"Thankfully, Hades just happened to get station in San Diego. So, when she called me to catch up, I convinced her to do a show with us, and that's kind of led us here." Lyla finishes.

"Wow, that's insane." Payback says.

"Yeah, crazy." You shake your head, suddenly feeling on edge now that your work friends new more about your personal life. It wasn't that you were trying to hide this from them, but at the same time, you liked your privacy.

Secrets kept you safe

Bradley could tell that you were getting uncomfortable, so he tapped your knee to get your attention before grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the crowd.

"You were amazing up there, Angel." He praises you as you tuck yourselves into a corner of the club.

"Thanks, maybe next time, you can join me, and we can hit them with some 'Great Balls of Fire.'" You laugh. Bradley chuckles.

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You both look at see the Daggers talking and drinking with your band mates.

"How did all of you get here?" You ask him.

"Fanboy got a party bus. Jake was recreating scenes from Magic Mike on the drive here when he was still half sober, I'm terrified to see what's going to happen on the way back." Bradley shutters.

"I didn't even get to have my drink, so I'm sober. I drove here, wanna ride home with me?" You offer him.

Bradley abso-fucking-lutely wanted to ride home with you. And then, when the two of you got home, he wanted to take you into his apartment, strip you down, and hear you sing for him in a different way. And he wanted you to sleep over so he could make you breakfast the next morning before he fucked you in his shower. However, he couldn't say that to you, so instead, he just said, "Yeah, Angel, that would be great."

The two of you quietly snuck out the back of the club. You had grabbed your things already. You made it to the car before Bradley, but instead of opening your door, you stood there, subconsciously waiting for him to do it. He smiled and opened the door and helped you in.

The drive back to San Diego was filled with playful banter, more singing, and flirty touches.

.............

Once you were back at your apartment complex, Bradley made sure to walk you to your door.

You wanted to invite him in, but it was late, and you were still high on adrenaline from performing, and you didn't trust yourself not to drag him to your bed. If you were going to do this with him, you were going to do it the right way.

So, you settled for a simple goodnight kiss on his cheek before tucking yourself inside your home.

After he said goodbye to you at your apartment door, Bradley bolted upstairs to his.

Tonight, he's thankful that he is your upstairs neighbor and that he has a corner unit where his bedroom doesn't share a wall with anyone.

Why? Because of the way your name sinfully falls from his lips while he touches himself and selfishly chases his release.

He's been hard for you all evening, and your flirty touches in your car on the ride home coupled with the way your soft lips felt on his cheek had him spiraling as he fists his cock.

He cums hard, spurts of it painting his hand and abs with hot white streaks. As he comes down from his high and cleans himself up, Bradley can't help but think about how his cum would look splattered on your thigh tattoo or dripping out of you. He groans, already hardening at the thought of it.

After quelling the fires of his desire with a cold shower, Bradley slips between the sheets of his bed and thinks of you and how he could make the two of you something more.

Taglist: @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @desert-fern @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @sometimesanalice @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @beccaanne814 @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic @lillyrosenight @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #tgm #lt. bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun rooster #rooster smut #rooster x reader #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #tgm smut #false god #Spotify

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brigittttoo · 6 months

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Fic Writer 20 Questions

Thanks for the tag @merlyn-bane !!

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

60! wow

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

417,555!!

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

Lately it's been Star Wars (Codywan), but I started out writing for Captive Prince, and have one very cracky fic for the chickens from Venom lmao

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

All five are Codywan! (with my first captive prince fic sliding barely into 6th place) they are:

Slow Waters; Inexpressibly to Untangle; Wolfssegen; Two Winters; and Leaning Closer to Never

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! if not immediately, then eventually. I always like receiving responses when I comment on other people's fic, even if it's just a short 'thanks for reading!' so I try to give the same in return.

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Smiling evilly over here because it's definitely What Year Was Our House Built? although a there's a close second and third in Kiss Goodbye and Gone and Returned. Oh wait also Akin, Removed. It's still true that the majority of my writing tends to be hopeful, though.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Slow Waters is a classic action movie happy ending, as a pacific rim au, and The World Offers Itself is a classic fantasy story happy ending, but I quite treasure the happy ending I gave codywan in Friday: Historical for @order63 because I will always cheer for edwardian wlw who say "sod the basilica".

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I figure the premises I write are sufficiently niche that you have to actually want to read it to click on it in the first place. Everyone is very lovely in my comment section :)

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do! The gay kind! and the loving kind, the angsty kind, the kind with layers, the kind that's just hot, etc etc

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't terribly prefer crossovers; I'll just set it in an AU of a different IP rather than mixing characters.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know!

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven't! But I've thought about practicing my language skills in translating them myself before (not that a lot of people really need a Norwegian translation of something lmao)

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nothing published! but I've gone through many a planning stage and/or shared gdoc with friends before.

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

I really can't choose! As long as it's well written I enjoy my ships pretty equally!

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Looking out the corner of my eye at The Skies Above Us which was. Well let's just say I learned my lesson to always write a fic to completion before starting to post it. RIP you really obscure codywan Wings of Desire AU, we barely knew you.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

I love describing general atmosphere and nature scenes, and I'm pretty good at doing an obscene amount of research and then letting most of it go in favour of writing what matters. I think I'm pretty good at picturing something in my own head and being able to transcribe it into prose.

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

Aside from the aforementioned necessity of writing something fully before posting, and also planning/outlining a story beginning-to-end before writing it, I'm not so strong in writing dialogue. But practice makes perfect!

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I quite like it, but only for snippets of text that don't really matter in the overall scheme of things. I've provided some of my own small French and Norwegian translations in the captive prince fics Portrait of Monsieur X (some silly poetry) and Hver blomst en stjerne (some fictional gods) and some other capri fics (what if there was an in-universe Basque) because I really enjoyed giving the nations in Captive Prince those real-life parallels (e.g. Ios = Greece, Vere = France) and playing around with the languages; it's kind of an integral part of the source material. I stay away from fictional languages though, because it's not something someone can easily just googletranslate, and I'd prefer to read " 'Something in English,' Character said in XYZ language." rather than waiting for a translation and wondering why extraneous information and words had to waste my time.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

Captive Prince! Pretty recent, all things considered. Everything I wrote before that was original stuff.

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

I'd have to go with Wolfssegen for codywan and Ideal Bounds for captive prince. I'm really proud of the stories I was able to tell with those two, and how neatly they both came together in terms of themes and actions :))

#my fic #tag game #thanks all!

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ichisama · 3 months

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1069 words | rating: g | high school au, bandmates, pre-slash

It was just a high school band.

They weren't going to make it big, they weren't going to play together forever.

Practice after school, only every now and then—whenever they could find the time. A local gig once in a blue moon, at the live house where Ramuda had an in. Late night songwriting sessions, but only during their longer breaks from school.

All of it was just for now.

Jakurai would go on to college, then med school. Then he would travel the world, saving lives in the places that needed him most.

Ramuda would follow him, at least to college. He hadn't yet decided what he wanted to study, but there was so much he wanted to learn, so much—besides music—he wanted to do.

College wasn't in the cards for Ichiro or Samatoki, but that didn't mean they would be able to keep playing together either. As a hobby, maybe. But they had Jiro, Saburo, and Nemu to think of. They needed stability, not a hopeless dream like making a career of music.

They would start working more and more, playing less and less, until a couple times a month became a couple times a year—if that.

Ichiro knew that was all the future held for them and their music.

Maybe they would keep in touch, or at least say they would. Maybe they would try, and fail.

As graduation approached, Ichiro found himself dreading those words. We'll keep in touch. Easy enough to say, whether you meant it or not. Ichiro even caught himself saying that exact thing to some classmates, without any real intent of following through.

He didn't say it to Samatoki, though.

And he was pretty sure he didn't want to hear it from Samatoki either.

It felt almost like a curse.

They played their last show on graduation day. Just a short set of five songs, for the rest of the school. None of them called it their last, but they all knew the score—the four of them wouldn't play together again.

Samatoki's guitar was still sitting in Ichiro's bedroom; he'd brought it over weeks ago for a jam session, with just the two of them. He would have to come by to pick it up.

Maybe they would play together then, at least once more. Maybe they would steal little pockets of time from their days, whenever they could, to finish the half-written songs they'd penned together. Maybe Ichiro would be alright, even when all he had left of these days were those recordings and his memories.

But maybe Samatoki had other ideas.

"Ichi."

Samatoki called him to a stop just as they stepped off the stage. Ramuda and Jakurai had gone ahead to thank the teachers who'd helped them set up that show, and Ichiro would of course want to do that too. But he turned when Samatoki called him, like he always had and always would.

Neither of them had plans of leaving town after graduation, at least not while their younger siblings were still in school. And Samatoki was still standing right in front of Ichiro, close enough to touch.

But Ichiro was missing him already.

"I'm going to miss this," Ichiro blurted out.

He didn't want to hear that this wasn't necessarily the end, that even if Ramuda and Jakurai would be heading off to Tokyo for college, the two of them could keep playing together. He didn't want to let himself hope for this to last forever, when he knew it couldn't.

This band.

This friendship.

This connection.

"Me too." Samatoki lifted his hands to cup Ichiro's cheeks, gently sweeping away the tears that had gathered at the corners of Ichiro's eyes. "Won't quite be the same when it's just us, huh?"

"Samatoki…"

"Who needs 'em?" Samatoki joked. "We'll be better."

Ichiro sighed and ducked his head out of Samatoki's hold. That was the sort of promise he'd been dreading, the sort of promise he couldn't bring himself to believe Samatoki would be able to keep.

"Hey." Samatoki caught Ichiro's chin before he could turn fully away, bringing their eyes to meet again. "Don't believe me?"

"I want to," Ichiro murmured.

"But you don't."

Ichiro breathed another sigh. "I just don't want to get my hopes up. I really love… playing music with you, Samatoki. I'd do it forever if I could. But I can't let myself expect that, want that, when we'll be… too busy for each other soon."

Samatoki didn't interrupt. He even waited a moment after Ichiro was done, as though wanting to make sure Ichiro had really finished speaking his piece, before dropping his hand to the collar of Ichiro's shirt and thumbing open the top button.

Ichiro looked down and blinked. "…Samatoki?"

"We'll never have as much time for music as I'd like," Samatoki agreed, lifting his other hand as well, to undo two more of Ichiro's buttons. "And we'll be getting busy, sure."

Ichiro could only watch, breath caught in his throat, as Samatoki lifted the pendant that hung around his own neck. He lifted it up and over his own head, then settled the cord—the leather soft with age, and warmed by Samatoki's skin—around Ichiro's neck.

"But," Samatoki continued, taking one of Ichiro's hands now. "Too busy for each other?"

Ichiro's breath gave an audible hitch when Samatoki touched one of his rings, slipping it off his finger and onto his own.

"No chance in hell," Samatoki declared. He lifted his hand, with Ichiro's ring sitting on his own middle finger now. For a moment, he just admired it, a satisfied grin curling at his lips.

Then he cupped Ichiro's face once more, sending a small shiver down Ichiro's spine. The sensation of that band around Samatoki's finger, against his skin, was so foreign and familiar at the same time, just like the sensation of the pendant that now lay against his chest.

Samatoki touched their foreheads together, fluttered his eyes shut. His proximity, his touch. His blind faith that he could offer his pendant and take Ichiro's ring, all without asking.

All of it helped Ichiro start to hope, to believe.

"This isn't a promise. You can think of it as a prophecy, or if you like—a command." Samatoki smiled, and drew Ichiro the rest of the way in. "Yamada Ichiro…"

"Yeah?" Ichiro dared to breathe.

"We'll keep in touch."

#crab writes #hypmic #ichisama #high school au #pre-slash #day 29!

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sanddusted-wisteria · 10 months

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Empty Skies, Hazy Skyboxes, Ch. 1

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Also on AO3

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Another day, another diagram.

Qi ripped out a fresh sheet of paper and grabbed his pencil. He had only gotten done with the initial rough shapes when he heard a knock on his door. He paid it no mind. The door was unlocked, whoever it was could just walk right in. The knocking went away for a second, then came back, faster and more insistent than before. Qi huffed and pushed himself roughly off his seat.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” He opened the door to find…Justice, of all people.

“Director. Sorry for the interruption.” The sheriff had an uncharacteristically grim expression on. “The builder…”

Qi tensed. “What? What happened?”

Justice took a shaky breath. “We…We were chasin’ after Logan’s goat, tryin’ to find his hideout, and…it leapt off the cliff, and…” He screwed his eyes shut. Qi felt his stomach plummet. “The horse they were ridin’…it couldn’t stop in time…”

“What…?” Qi went rigid. Justice’s mouth kept moving, but the words didn’t reach Qi’s ears. Through the sudden vertigo and the shrill ringing, he could just make out a “memorial” and a “stage” and an “I’m so sorry.” When Qi finally remembered to blink, he was gone.

His right leg took a step forward. Then his left.

The canyons around Sandrock could be anywhere from hundreds to thousands of meters deep.

Right. Left. Right. Left.

Even if they fell in a way that minimized their falling velocity, they could reach terminal velocity as little as 12 seconds.

Right. Left. Right. Left.

Even disregarding any initial velocity from the horse, they would have been falling at an incredible velocity just before reaching the ground.

Right. Left. Right. Left.

Chances of survival…

Right. Left.

Effectively zero.

Matilda was on the stage, voice trembling as she recounted the builder’s many great contributions to the city.

Effectively zero.

Dozens of red, watery eyes were on Qi. He turned his to the ground, trying to ignore their stares.

Effectively zero.

Dozens of whispers murmured sympathies and pities. His ears were still ringing.

Effectively zero.

Someone asked him if he wanted to speak. He felt his head shake no. He couldn’t trust himself.

Zero.

------------

Qi put his pencil down to take a sip of tea and to stretch his sore wrist. This would be diagram 17 that he’d managed to finish in the last 24 hours. A new record. He’d gotten 13 done yesterday and 10 done the day before that. Wonderful. His work speed was increasing. He tore out another sheet of paper and picked his pencil back up, sketching the next one out with frenetic lines and deformed shapes.

“Director Qi?” It was Mi-an. “I…I brought your dinner.”

“Set it over there.” He gestured vaguely to his right. She tentatively set it down on the floor in front of the fridge.

“Um…” Mi-an shuffled in place, wringing her hands. “Can I…do anything else to help?”

“You can boil my next kettle. It’s upstairs. Five cups. No less.”

“Uh, with all due respect, Director, I think you might want to get some rest. This isn’t good for you at all.”

“I’ll be fine. The tea. Please.”

Mi-an was silent. No matter. If Qi stayed silent long enough, she would comply. Sure enough, after a moment, he heard a sigh, followed by light, unhurried steps up the stairs. Good.

Qi felt his head bob forward. It felt like it weighed a ton. He jerked it back straight, the sudden motion sending a wave of nausea through his body. He pressed forward. If Mi-an could get the tea to him within the next several minutes, he might be able to stave off the microsleep just

Qi woke up with his cheek against the desk, drool spilling onto the diagram he was working on. He groaned, wiping his mouth clean and assessing the damage. Luckily the pencil didn’t smudge…but just what the hell was he looking at? A mess of imprecise and unmeasured scribbles. No title or scale. He scowled and shuffled through the remaining pile of diagrams that he “completed” before his sudden blackout. The further down the stack he went, the more erratic the drawings became. By the time he hit diagram 10, he was just drawing the same thing over and over again, each time more deformed than the last. Total waste. He ripped the most egregious ones in half with a huff.

He stood up and stomped upstairs. Hopefully Mi-an still made him that tea. He was pleased to see five cups sitting on the table. He grabbed one and took a long swig. He regretted it immediately. The leaves were still in the cup, the tea grossly oversteeped and cold. He spit the disgusting concoction out while coughing up a storm. He slammed the wasted cup back down on the table, grabbed the empty kettle, and went to the water tank to start an actual brew. Without anything else to do, he stared blankly at the kettle on the burner, as if that would make it boil any faster.

It was the first time in a while that he needed to brew tea for himself. It was always such a time-waster, but then–

No.

Qi’s stomach growled. When was the last time he consumed anything other than tea? He went downstairs to fetch the parcel of food that Mi-an left on her last visit, whenever that was. He untied the cloth wrapping the little bindle up, tossed the concerned note from Owen aside, and cracked open the lid to the container. Meat-stuffed mushroom. His regular order at the saloon. Cold, of course. He headed back upstairs and grabbed a random fork lying around. He bit off a sliver of it and grimaced. Maybe because it was too cold. Then again, Owen’s cooking could never match up to–

No. Stop.

The kettle whistled. Qi grabbed some fresh tea leaves and dropped them into the cups. He kept nibbling slowly at his food as the tea steeped. He was almost out of water, wasn’t he? Might as well get a trip to Water World in now, since he already was wasting time on food and drink. He set the unpalatable food aside and gulped down one of the cups of tea in one go, ignoring how the water scalded his tongue. He opened the front door to a darkened street.

Qi seized with a gasp and slammed the door.

No. No. Don’t look up. It’s cloudy. There are no stars out.

He hurried back to his desk and sifted through the useless diagrams. Keep working. Anything to keep working. What the hell were all of these for?! Who ordered them?!

“If I plan this out correctly, you should be able to fuel all your machines from a single endpoint!”

“That…sounds incredible. Yeah, I really need that. Let’s go with that one.”

“The fire-powered generator it is, then. Should take around…4 days, 16 data disks.”

“Hmm… Here, take 25.”

“Oh! I can get it done a little faster then, if you need it.”

A soft laugh. “No, no. Take your time, honey. Consider it a present. For all your hard work.” A peck on his cheek.

The builder. His builder.

Qi tore his eyes off the diagrams. His relics, they needed reorganizing. Yes, that’s it. He walked over to his cabinet and tore the door open. That was the last straw for the overstressed shelves, snapping off the walls and spilling relic pieces all over the floor around his ankles.

A massive CLATTER sounded from behind him. He whirled around to find the builder collapsed under a heap of relics scattered from his now-broken cabinet. Nothing too heavy or sharp was in there, at least. It was nothing to worry about. He turned back to the experiment he was performing.

“Your cabinet almost killed me!” the builder snapped as they got up and dusted themselves off.

“My apologies,” Qi said reflexively, even though he didn’t really need to.

“Do you even care about me at all…?” Something in him shifted at how hurt they sounded.

“Of course I do,” Qi said, and he meant it. He simply knew that they were in no danger. If they were, he would be worried. As much as he hated to admit it, he was worried about them more than he really should.

Qi stumbled out of the mess on the floor. His eyes darted around the room for something, anything to do. Anything to distract him from the thoughts he worked so hard to keep himself from thinking. But it was too late. At every turn, around every corner, the builder was there, lurking in every fold of his mind. They had entangled themselves in every aspect of his life, and now they were gone.

Qi felt a dull ache growing from his chest, blooming outwards from his heart. His breath started to shake as tears rolled off his chin and onto the floor. He pressed his hands against his mouth, trying to muffle the sobs that racked him. No one could hear him like this.

He had to get out of here. No one could see him like this. He burst out of the research center into the dark of night. At least no one would be out and about at this time. Keeping his eyes firmly on the ground, he set off for the only place he knew.

The workshop was silent. Machines collecting sand and dust, sleeping farm animals, and a dark, empty house. Qi opened the door to the lonely husk of his home. No wonderful sounds or smells from the kitchen. No one to ask about his day. Grim shadows cast across the photographs of the two of them on the walls, dulling the smiles on their faces. Only the builder could get Qi to smile for a picture. Or at all, really.

He slipped his shoes off and dragged himself to the bedroom. He tossed his glasses aside somewhere and collapsed onto the bed—their bed—burying his face deep into the blankets. He breathed in that subtle, soothing scent that was only present when they were close. His tears dampened the covers as he curled himself around them. Perhaps this way he could fool himself into thinking that he was just embracing the builder after a long day’s work.

The ache still wouldn’t go away.

------------

Soft blankets. Tear stains. A fading scent.

…

“Director, hope you don’t mind if I step in a moment…”

It was Hugo.

“How you feelin’ these days? When we didn't see ya in the research center, we all got pretty worried…”

…

“Mmm. I know. When I lost Rhonda, no one could get me up neither. Ain’t nobody gonna blame ya for not havin’ the words.”

…

“Even after all these years, it hurts. Sometimes I still wake up in the mornin’ and reach for her.”

…

“It never really disappears. It’ll always sit in your heart, weighin’ it down. Even if it’s jus’ a tiny lil’ pebble.”

…

“But believe me, it does get better. No matter what your head’s tellin’ you, it does. The hurt doesn’t vanish, but…you kinda grow around it. You never fill in the gap, but you build out around it.”

…

“Raisin’ my Heidi…takin’ care of my mama… That was how I managed to do it. Real slowly. Years and years.”

…

“I know you don’t got anyone like that in town at the moment…but we’re Sandrockers. And you’re a Sandrocker too. Sandrockers take care of one another, thick and thin. I’ve seen and heard from everyone in town, and they all wanna do their best to help you get back on your feet.”

…

“I know it’s jus’ words, but I hope I could be a little help. Once you find your voice again, we can talk some more. I know you haven’t really got along with us Church folk since you came here…but we’re all open to you too. Oh, and we ain’t gonna convert ya, don’t you worry.”

…

“Spacecase…”

It was Mint.

“I came as soon as I could. Sorry it took me so long. Had a project in Atara that they wouldn’t let me leave.”

…

“Have you had any water yet today? Food?” A clattering of dishes. A sloshing water bottle.

“Here, come on. At least drink a glass of water.” A hand on his back, sitting him up. A thin trickle of water down his dried-out throat.

“...I know you didn’t want to talk to other people in town, but…do you want to talk with me?”

…

A sigh. “I know, it’s hard. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here. I promise. I’ll always be here.”

…

“I’m staying in Sandrock for a couple weeks, so I won’t be far. I’ll check up on you every day, okay?”

…

“Ah-ah, no sleep yet. Finish your water. Not leaving ‘til you do.”

…

“...Director.”

It was Fang.

“Here for…checkup. Do you…want to…talk?”

…

“...Understand. Hard for me…too.” A hand on his forehead. Head tilted side to side. Fang’s eyes inspecting him.

“No fever, no disease…but malnourished…dehydrated. Muscles may atrophy.”

…

“Your friend…will help for daily things. I’ll…come in…once a week.”

…

“I…can’t help with talk…but I can…listen. When you’re ready.”

…

“I leave…sleeping tea. At least make rest…pleasant. Can brew a cup.” The whistle of a kettle. A grassy, floral scent.

“Do the best…you can.”

…

Hot water. Chamomile. Lavender. Lemon balm.

Nothing.

…

Wake up. Repeat.

Hot water. Chamomile. Lavender. Lemon balm.

Nothing.

------------

next | index

#shady's fics #empty skies hazy skyboxes

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rantsandotherwritings · 2 years

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I've been thinking about marriage a lot lately, especially since four of my friends have gotten married within the last two years. My sister's friends have been getting hitched too, but there's a five year gap between us, so when it started I didn't think about it too much.

But with my friends it's been different. To be fair, the youngest one is at least 7 months older than me but it still feels like we're at the same stage in life because we passed through specific stages together: high school, college, that in between space of trying things while we figure out what we want to do for the rest of our lives. And I guess that's the point where our paths diverged.

I've only ever had one boyfriend. We were good friends who became more in our second or third year in college. It was sweet. It was kinda messy. Only kinda because I don't fall asleep every night wishing I could go back in time and rewrite the narrative. I do have my regrets, though. I made a lot of mistakes and he did too. But not enough for me to write off relationships completely.

I remember telling him that if things didn't work out with him that that was it for me. Part of me is reluctant to believe that I actually meant it seriously, but looking back I really think I did. I was serious about him and had things gone as planned in my head, I was going to marry him (lol the confidence). Now I don't know if I'm going to marry anyone.

And it's not one of those things where it's like...he was the only person for me and he was who I saw when I thought of weddings and married life so I can't picture that with anyone else. No. Any semblance of an "us" has been done and dusted and I'm okay with that, because although he was never a bad person, he was bad for me.

It's also not a situation where it's like "my ex broke me and now I can never love again." I still love him even though I'm definitely not in love with him. I want the best for him and I think I'm still capable of having a healthy romantic relationship. I'm just not sure if I want one anymore.

I think there are a lot of factors involved here, the main one being that I'd have to meet someone that I want to get involved with. There are a number of obstacles especially to just the "meet someone" part. As an anxious introvert in the beginning of what looks to be a Pandemonium: The Saga, meeting someone feels like an insurmountable feat.

I rarely leave my house thanks to my ability to work from home and the fact that most of my closest friends live in different countries. And I can only imagine that the guy that's right for me would not care to leave the comfort of his home either.

So that's one obstacle. I'd have to meet someone. Then there's the fact that we both have to like each other enough to want to get to know each other better. Please refer to the anxiety and introversion combo.

Then there's the idea I've gotten into my head recently that I don't think I'd survive the traditional marriage. I live in a society with a traditional culture. Yh most women work but they're also the primary caregiver of their children and often husband.

I don't cook. I don't know that I have much maternal instinct. To be perfectly honest, even if I was sure that I actually wanted kids, I don't know if I'd be able to have them because of how my reproductive system is set up.

I love having my own space. I am struggling very hard right now because I'm living off the couch and I have little privacy and I'm so accessible to everyone and I feel like this is what it's like to be married, that you get the opposite of space when you're married.

You come home and there's someone there and they're in your bed even when you want to be alone. I have a great family life. I love my parents and my siblings. They're all really cool and I still find that I don't want to be around them 24/7.

I used to feel so anxious in my previous relationship when I didn't respond to my boyfriend when we were long distance for a bit (I finished school before him). It always devolved into a fight because we'd be talking and then i'd have to go do something and I'd put down my phone and not come back to it for a while. And he'd be upset that he waited around for me.

I get that it'd be nice if I let him know I was stepping out and I tried to remember but it didn't always work out. It felt like it was just as hard for me to keep in contact as it was for him to not care that I hadn't been in contact.

I don't care to be inseparable. I'd quite like to do our own thing. It's called parallel play I think, where you can be in the same room but doing different things.

I don't know. There's a lot I don't know about relationships after only experiencing the one, but I don't think it will be easy to lure me out of my comfortable single life if all I get out of it is anxiety and a feeling of being smothered.

I think I've found my purpose. I think I've found my people too. I live a fulfilling and comfortable life right now and I feel like a boyfriend or husband would interfere with that.

I really like the idea of the emotional intimacy that comes with having your person and even the physical intimacy, but the rest of the relationship would have to add significantly to my life in order for me to give up what I have.

Thankfully, though this is not a decision I'd have to make in a hurry if we refer back to the first point about the anxiety introversion combo. And so I have the time and space to work on myself and improve my mental health that really took a nose dive during college.

#September 3 2022 #is when i finished this rant

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feetniece45 · 2 years

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mochegato · 3 years

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Even the Losers

Chapter 1

“You can do this Marinette,” Adrien whispered encouragingly, echoing the mantra she’d been whispering to herself for the past two days. She could do this. She could manage. This was for Max. She could handle it. He couldn’t be here but she could. She could be strong for him. She gave Adrien a shaky smile and nodded. “We just have to find him and we can leave,” he reminded her.

Marinette took a breath and let it out slowly. She’d dealt with far, far worse than a few judgmental, heartless asses who had no real interest in her. But seas of artificial smiles had always unsettled her and currently she was surrounded with so much artificial sweetness she felt like she was walking through a kid’s cereal aisle. That added onto her already existing anxiety had her ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

She ran her hand over the skirt of her dress, letting the feeling of the fabric and the knowledge of all that had gone into it soothe her. She was especially proud of her dress and the work that had gone into it. It was a black so dark it almost appeared to draw in the light around it. A mesh with strategically placed blood red decorations overlaid the dress, hugging her bodice until it reached her hips then dropped into a flowing skirt that ended just before it could pool on the ground.

She fought the urge to fiddle with the belt in her nervousness. She couldn’t show weakness like that, not here. She looked up at Adrien again in search of an anchor to reality. She took in his expression and had to stifle the laugh that resulted. He had his own artificially sweet smile on but his eyes quite clearly begged for a quick death. He glanced down to her and nudged her discreetly, his artificial smile becoming wide and real. “Shhhh,” he hushed her under his breath. “We’re trying not to attract attention to ourselves, remember? We’re ghosts.” He looked around to make sure nobody was looking at them.

Marinette immediately quieted, her face becoming somber. She did remember. In and out. That was the goal. Her goal. Knock the man on his ass with Max’s accomplishments, then never see him, or anyone else in this room, other than Adrien of course, ever again. They were supposed to be like ghosts. There but not. Her eyes scanned the room looking for their target.

Adrien’s eyes immediately softened and filled with regret. “Shit, Mari. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“No,” she looked up at him with an artificial smile of her own. “I know. It’s fine. It’s not your fault.” She scanned the crowd again, cursing her height, as she had many times in her life. Even with the six inch, death defying heels, she still barely reached Adrien’s eyes, let alone give her any kind of advantage to see the crowd. She needed some kind of vantage point but unfortunately, the only high point in the ballroom was the stage, which she couldn’t utilize if she was going to follow her Ghost policy. “We might have more success if we split up. Let me know if you find him.”

Adrien squeezed her arm quickly before nodding. “Good luck.”

Marinette shot him a genuine smile. “You too. May the Luck be with you.”

Adrien laughed and shook his head. “I never should have forced you to watch that movie.”

Marinette grinned back. “You never should have forced me to watch the prequels. The original ones were just fine.” Adrien narrowed his eyes at her but let it drop in favor of disappearing in the crowd to find their target.

Marinette followed him with her eyes until she couldn’t see him anymore then took a deep breath to brace herself. Her eyes immediately started darting around and her fingers started dancing. She needed something to occupy them or she was going to start attracting unwanted attention.

She noted a bar close by and made a beeline for it. She waited politely for the bartender to notice her, her fingers tapping anxiously against the bar while she waited. She froze when she heard a gruff voice next to her. “Did you sneak in here?”

She turned to the voice and blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”

“You’re anxious and jittery. Afraid you’re going to get kicked out?” the man elaborated.

Marinette studied him for a moment trying to figure out why he looked so familiar. “No,” she started slowly, trying to give her brain a chance to answer the puzzle. “Just not a fan of events like this.”

The man scoffed and nodded in understanding. “Cheers.” He raised his glass for her to clink his but she held out her hands with a sheepish look, showing she didn’t have a drink yet. “Well, that’s a crime. Nobody should have to endure one of these without a drink.” He motioned to the bartender and got an immediate response. “Another for me and a…” he motioned to Marinette to give her order.

“Oh, champagne, please,” she finished with a smile for the bartender. That’s what was socially acceptable at events like this, right? Champagne.

The bartender looked to the man for confirmation. The man nodded. “And a champagne for the woman.” Marinette scowled at the bartender causing the man to laugh. “He’s just worried that you’re underage. You look awfully young. You’re not, right?”

Marinette’s glare softened in realization. “Oh, that makes sense. No, I’m not. I forgot the legal age here is higher than in France.”

He nodded and looked at her critically for a moment before offering his hand. “Jason.”

Marinette immediately reached out for his hand and answered with her name before her brain registered the name he’d given. Jason. Jason Todd. Bruce Wayne’s son. She pulled her hand back quickly as the realization hit her and focused on leveling her breathing. She grabbed the champagne glass more violently than necessary when the bartender set it down in front of her and immediately downed the entire glass, only coughing a bit as the bubbles tickled her throat. Overall, champagne was not the best drink to chug. “Another, please,” she croaked out.

“You know, there are better drinks for that, if that’s what you want to do,” Jason grinned, laughing at her.

“Wasn’t the plan until it was and then that’s all I had,” she croaked out, her voice still hoarse from the bubbles. She kept her eyes focused on her empty glass as she spoke, almost afraid to make eye contact with him as if just seeing her eyes would be enough to blow her cover.

Jason chuckled and nodded in understanding. “Don’t suppose you’d care to dance?”

Marinette whipped her head to him and stared incredulously, forgetting her previous reservations. She only moved again when the bartender set the new drink down in front of her. “Um… no… thank you. That doesn’t seem… I don’t think my date would be comfortable with that. Good luck getting drunk enough to handle tonight though.” She gave him a weak smile and raised her glass to him before moving into the fray again, now armed with a socially acceptable fidget toy.

It took five minutes of avoiding wandering hands and leering looks but with a little luck and some prodding from the goddess hiding in the folds of her skirt, she was finally able to stumble on M. Lucius Fox, Director of Research and Development for Wayne Enterprises. He was in a conversation he was not remotely interested in with some vapid business exec who was just as interested in M. Fox. Not that M. Fox’s disinterest was clear. He was very polite and good at covering his boredom, much more so than his conversation partner, but she’d been at enough stuffy, snobby parties with Adrien, Felix, and Chloe to know the signs.

She took another breath and squared her shoulders, going into Ladybug Mode; calm and confident, completely assured of herself. She was on a mission. She had a goal and a plan to accomplish it, and once she had a plan, she had a direction and purpose, and with those, her insecurities fell away. With M. Fox in her sights, she could see the pieces and the way they fit together. There were no more doubts. She set her glass on a passing waiter’s tray and made her way over to M. Fox.

“The elusive M. Fox. It is a pleasure to meet you,” Marinette purred, coming up next to him with a charming, real smile.

“I didn’t realize I was hiding,” Lucius responded with a polite smile of his own.

“Must just come naturally. Foxes are known to be crafty.” Marinette looked around them and motioned toward the dancefloor. “Would you care to dance, M. Fox?”

He shook his head deferentially. “Are you sure there aren’t other people here you’d rather dance with?”

Marinette smiled conspiratorially and leaned closer to him, making sure to keep a respectable distance. She did NOT want to have her banter confused with flirting. That was not the strategy she had devised. “That would defeat the purpose of coming here. I came here specifically to speak with you.”

Lucius looked down at her analytically, trying to figure out what her angle was, but took her hand and followed her onto the dancefloor. “And what did you want to speak about, Ms…?”

“Dupain Cheng. Marinette Dupain Cheng. It’s nice to meet you M. Fox. I wanted to speak to you to sell my friend Max Kante.”

Lucius’ eyes widened almost imperceptibly as the music changed. After a beat, he chuckled. “I’m not in the market to buy anyone, but thank you.” He settled his hands on her mid-back and hand for their dance.

Marinette chuckled good naturedly along with him. “Sell his talents, would be a better way to say it.”

“And where is Mr. Kante?” Lucius raised an eyebrow at her, curious why the young man didn’t bother to come himself. “Why are you presenting his talents instead of him?”

“Finals. Had the incredibly bad luck to have a Friday at noon final. I mean at least it wasn’t at 19h, right? Can you believe they have those?” She scrunched up her nose in playful disgust. “But still means he’s taking it right now. And for his last final of his career. I mean… probably. Knowing him, he might get another PhD at some point. My finals and presentation ended last week. M. Wa…” she took a steadying breath and looked back up with a strained smile hoping he wouldn’t notice the stutter. “M. Wayne even visited for it. That’s when the idea for this came to me. So while Max studied, I plotted.”

“So why me then and not Mr. Wayne?” Lucius asked with a curious interest.

Marinette froze for just a second. Hardly enough for anyone to notice. Her mind raced to calculate the appropriate response to that question, a satisfactorily casual yet intelligent response. “M. Wayne isn’t in charge of research. You are. Not to mention, I highly doubt the CEO would be involved enough in the research and development projects to know what was going on. You I take as a man who knows what is going on with all your ongoing projects.”

He nodded. She wasn’t wrong, or normally wouldn’t be. Mr. Wayne usually was not involved in any projects and with the exception of one particular project they were having issues with, he wouldn’t know the particulars. “A very dangerous and elaborate plan. Why didn’t you make an appointment with me? Or just stop me on the street?” he prodded, hoping for her thought process.

Marinette laughed lightly. “I don’t imagine I would have had a chance in Hell of making an appointment with you in your office. I have no standing, no name, no significance that would have attracted any PA worth their salt’s attention. I would have been pawned off onto a low ranking employee to handle, if I was handled at all. And something like this needed to be taken to you.

“As for running into you on the street, I can’t imagine you would have responded positively to getting accosted on the street. You seem more than capable of handling yourself with grace in the face of a pest. I doubt I would have gotten more than a few words in. At a gala however,” she grinned conspiratorially at him. “Societal convention. Almost absolute certainty of at least one dance where I would have you one-on-one for a few minutes. Hostage audience. Figured I could use it to my advantage for once.”

Lucius smiled back at her ingenuity. “There’s an application process he could have gone through,” he noted.

Mari nodded and looked out to the crowd, scanning it. “Right, applying to M. Fedor Rabler,” she said distractedly. “He did that.”

Lucius nodded in understanding. Their application process was tough. Lots of amazing candidates didn’t get through. He had to respect her devotion to her friend, to risk coming here and potentially making an enemy of Wayne Enterprises if he’d been that sort of man. His eyes turned sympathetic. “I’m sorry he was passed over.”

“You know, I’ve noticed Elspeth Cole puts forth a lot of inventions and extremely varied ones at that,” she continued as though she hadn’t heard his consolation. “Most inventors, you can see their process, you can see how they got from one invention to the next, but hers… they’re so varied. It’s almost like they’re coming from completely different people.” Lucius watched her carefully, waiting to see where she was going with this. “That’s them, isn’t it? Dancing together. Awfully close for purely colleagues.”

Lucius followed her sight line to Ms. Cole and Mr. Rabler dancing extremely closely. Not obscenely, but perhaps a bit closer than was normally acceptable at a society event such as this one. “It’s hardly incriminating that two people with expertise in electrical engineering would get together,” he said slowly.

“Max is amazing. Brilliant,” Marinette said, seemingly not noticing her non-sequitur. “He created an AI that helped the Parisian superheroes locate and defeat our supervillain at only 14.” Lucius’ brow rose. That was certainly promising. He wondered what would have caused them not to take such an applicant. Surely there was some sort of embellishment there, but as he studied her, she seemed entirely genuine.

“He’s being scouted by several high profile companies including Lexcorp and Palmer Technologies.” She turned her attention back to Lucius, a curious pout on her lips. “But not Wayne Enterprises.” She looked away with clearly forced casualness. “Lexcorp and Palmer, they’re offering pretty impressive packages. Not as good as he deserves in my opinion, but I may be a bit biased. Wayne Enterprises however… nothing. Not even an offer.

“Now, I don’t really have a dog in the fight… other than wanting my friend to be safe and treated with the respect he deserves. But Palmer Technologies gets blown up by a villain or its inventors kidnapped far too frequently for me to be comfortable with my friend working there. And Lexcorp…” She looked down as if in thought before looking back at him again with a determined look in her eye.

“You know, I get a feeling sometimes. I can’t really explain it, just get a feeling about people or things. I’ve found it’s best for me and the people around me if I listen to that feeling and that feeling tells me Lex Luthor is the last person who should be trusted with a brain as brilliant as Max’s.” She looked back over to Mr. Rabler and Ms. Cole. “That same feeling told me Max shouldn’t trust the application process for Wayne Enterprises.”

She looked back at Lucius with an apologetic smile. “No offense. So, I convinced Max to make a small part of his submission just a little off. Just a bit. Enough that even an expert could miss it, but if it’s wrong the project could never work. It took a lot of convincing to get him to do it. He refused to believe he had anything to worry about in Wayne Enterprises with its stellar reputation.” She scrunched up her face in annoyance. “But that feeling, you know? I couldn’t get over it. After a lot of work, I convinced him there was no harm. After all, if he was hired he could fix it. If he wasn’t… well, you shouldn’t be using what he presented anyway, right? No harm, no foul as you Americans say.”

“No,” Lucius agreed. “That would be theft and completely against WE policy and standards. In fact, we should not be asking applicants to submit anything like that in the first place.”

Marinette smiled and nodded approvingly. “I’ve heard rumblings, or rather Max has, of WE getting into transmutation of materials. Just can’t get that algorithm right though, can you? Algorithms are hard. Just a little off and nothing works.”

He stared at her. That was a secret project. Other departments in Wayne Enterprises didn’t even know about it. “I can’t comment on ongoing projects.”

“I never did show you what Max is capable of, did I?” She gave him a bright smile and reached down to press a disguised button on her belt. Lucius tensed and cursed himself for exposing himself to whatever she was about to do. A wave of emerald green washed over the front of her bodice as the blood red decorated mesh overlay turned into a brilliant emerald green that reflected the lights now rather than absorbing it.

Lucius’ eyes widened in surprise, a feat very few had been able to draw out of him. “He designed the fabric?” he whispered out. He reached out tentatively to touch the fabric at her shoulder.

Marinette grinned brilliantly at his reaction. It was no less than Max deserved. He’d worked incredibly hard on it. “He did,” she nodded in confirmation, “and the software that controls it. The whole dress can change but we’re kind of surrounded here and I didn’t want to attract too much attention.” She let him touch it for a moment before pushing the button again to turn it back into the black, then allowing him to feel the mesh to confirm it was the same fabric. “He has ideas for changing the texture as well, but limited resources you know? Something I’d hope wouldn’t be an issue at WE.”

“How does it work?” His eyes were still focused on the fabric at her shoulder. He took a quick look at the rest of the bodice, but quickly snapped his eyes back to her shoulder. The neckline was conservative, but it was still rather unbecoming to stare at the young woman’s chest.

Marinette laughed. “You’ll have to ask Max that. I just designed the dress. I don’t really understand the mechanics behind it, but he does. I doubt Ms. Cole can say the same.”

Lucius stared in awe at her shoulder before looking back up to her eyes and nodding in understanding. “Interesting. I’ll take that under advisement. Maybe we should be scouting you as well.”

Mari laughed. “No, thank you. I’m not an inventor. I’m a designer. But I appreciate the interest.”

Lucius nodded and led her off the dancefloor with the end of the song. “Inventor or not, we can always use someone with intuition, intelligence, and ingenuity like you’ve demonstrated.”

Marinette gave him a brilliant, somewhat familiar smile. “That’s very flattering. Thank you, M. Fox. But tonight is about Max. I have my own, separate plans for my future.”

Lucius nodded in understanding. “Our loss,” he answered sincerely. “If you ever need any help or advice, please feel free to call me. I’m sure Mr. Kante will have it soon enough and can pass it onto you.” He looked back down to her shoulder again. “If I may…” He motioned toward her shoulder.

Marinette laughed. “Of course. I understand how truly impressive it is. It’s been incredibly inspirational, thinking of the options.”

“And what did your intuition tell you about tonight?” He looked up to meet her eyes, curious about her answer.

Marinette’s face went slack for a moment before she pasted on a bittersweet smile. “That it would be costly but worth it.”

Lucius quirked his head to the side. “In what way?”

Marinette shook her head absently and took a sudden interest in M. Fox’s tie. “I’m not sure yet.”

Mr. Fox’s eyes softened. “Would he be available to meet on Monday?”

Marinette grin and snapped her eyes up to him. Mission success! Max was going to get his interview! “He can be.”

“I’d actually like to speak with both of you, if you don’t mind. In my office at 10 Monday?” he offered.

Marinette faltered. “In Wayne Enterprises?”

Lucius chuckled. “Naturally.”

Marinette swallowed heavily. “Why don’t we meet somewhere else? Early morning coffee perhaps?” she offered instead with an artificial smile. “Here’s my card. Have someone give me a call or text and I can arrange it. He’s scheduled to fly in tomorrow morning. He was supposed to meet with Lexcorp Monday morning, but he’ll be at coffee to meet you instead.”

Lucius smiled back at her as he slipped her card into his pocket. “I greatly appreciate your candor and support Ms. Dupain Cheng.” He took her hand in both of his to shake it. “I cannot tell you how good it was to meet you. And if you ever get one of those feelings about me or Wayne Enterprises, let me know, okay?”

“Lucius.”

Lucius froze at the cold voice, not accustomed to that tone of voice directed at him. He looked over curiously and missed Marinette freezing before pushing another button on her belt.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm

#maribat #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #Even the Losers #mbdbwm2021 #prompt -#meeting for the first time

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 2 years

Text

Overworked

Summary: Being ill and having an unrelenting work load wasn't a great combo, but the Avengers help you out.

Word Count: 3148

Warnings: Throwing up?

A/N: Oof ok, so my aim was just a short, fluffy story about the Avengers being all comforting and stuff since I was ill and had a lot of work. Then I started writing and I clearly have a lot of thoughts and it kind of became a rant about university workloads. oops.

(Also since this is set in America I know it should be College but I can't bring myself to say that)

—————————————————

A good night’s sleep was tough to get as a student, what with late nights working and 9am lectures that required you up and out of the house at least half an hour beforehand so that you’d get to them in time.

The weekend was supposed to be your reprieve, no early mornings, no new work, just a chance to lie in and catch up. Or it should be. This weekend, unfortunately, was anything but.

You had an assignment due Wednesday, a difficult set of calculations that you and all your friends on the course had been struggling to solve. (Not working together of course, because that would be cheating).

Since it was a Friday night, and you'd just had a full day of lectures, you promised yourself that Saturday was going to be the day you'd crack on and finish the problems. Lying in bed however, that didn't look like it would be the case. Pain shot through your stomach intermittently, and the feeling of nausea, and whole body numbness just couldn't be shaken.

You whimpered and clutched your stomach. You felt weak. A simple stomach ache was all it took? your family were the Avengers for goodness sake, none of them would succumb to illness this light. It was a fight to repress the pain. A fight you were losing, and you weren't sleeping because of it.

A glance at your phone. 3:24 AM. A sorry sign given that you'd gone to bed at midnight. With a huff you got up, instantly squatting to the ground to lessen the pain that was realised with it. Then, slowly, you left your university room and headed to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet bowl for a whole five minutes before finally throwing up.

You were in tears by this stage, but it helped. And not long after you were back in bed and falling asleep.

12:00. The panic set in as you saw the time. For a university student it might not have been particularly late, but to you it felt like half the day had been wasted, half the day where you could have caught up on work.

You rushed to get up, and worked out that you were very much still ill. A quick bowl of cereal did nothing to help, and you found yourself back in your room, knees tucked up under your chin as you sat at your desk, staring blankly at all the work you had yet to do.

In prioritising the assignment, you'd let several important worksheets go undone, three weeks' worth stacking up, and the longer you left it the more there would be. Not to mention all the lecture notes that had gone without being written up. It seemed like an impossible challenge to catch up, there simply wasn't enough time in the day for that.

Tears welled up yet again. You weren't cut out for this. This was content aimed at students and you were struggling! There were the kind of things you'd have to be doing every day for work if you continued in the field. Only that work would be even harder. How would you manage?

As an adult now, you should be able to handle being sick on your own. But you still wanted to talk to your family, at least let them know that you weren't feeling great. Hopefully they wouldn't accuse you of playing for sympathy when obviously they couldn't help you out over the phone.

Natasha was your first choice, given that she was the one who legally signed on as your guardian, even if all the Avengers took on the role. Plus she also answered the phone the most.

"Hey Y/N, what's up?" she asked. It was a video call, but she didn't seem to have seen the state of you yet. She was definitely distracted.

"Hi Nat" you smiled, even if she wasn't looking, "are you busy?"

"I'm just on a mission ri-, Y/N/N have you been crying? are you okay?" her expression changed completely the second she looked down; from a faint smile to total concern.

"I can call back later if you're on a mission, I don't want to disturb you"

"no, no, not at all. It's just a stakeout with Clint, he's manning the watch right now so I'm free", with that she flipped the camera around, giving you a view of Clint slumped on the floor, eyes focused on screen in front of him. He looked up briefly and gave you a wave. "So what's up? Properly."

"I dunno, I'm just a bit ill and I wanted to call"

"ill? oh no, what kind of ill?" you had her full attention now, the concerned face of a Russian assassin filling your screen.

You shrugged glumly, "I threw up last night, and I don't feel great" you explained, "and I was up at half three this morning which meant I slept in really late and I've just wasted most of today when I should be doing work. I have so much work." The tears began to fall again as you spoke. In reality, they'd been coming ever since Natasha showed concern; you missed living with her, and all the others.

"Y/N, it's ok, it's ok. Sleep is more important than school work anyway when you're ill-"

"but I have that assignment due Wednesday"

"lucky today isn't Wednesday then" she smirked, "you'll work better if you feel better, and if you're still sick later then you can ask for an extension. Or we can get Tony to ask, you know they can never turn down Tony."

You chuckle lightly through the tears. It was true. The university wouldn't turn down a request from any Avenger really. But with the degree you were doing, Tony was the role model every student and professor wanted to be, there was no chance they'd refuse him.

“How about this though, okay? Clint and I are almost done on this mission, we’ll come pick you up in the jet and bring you home for a couple of days. Help you feel a bit better and Tony or Bruce can work with you to catch up on your work.”

“That sounds nice” you nodded, adding quietly, “I miss you all”

“I miss you too y/n/n, the whole team does. For now though, take a paracetamol, pack a bag, and we’ll pick you up as soon as we can"

"Alright, I will, love you Nat" you murmured

"Love you too, see you in a bit" she grinned, and with a smile you ended the call.

Obviously the call didn't instantly bring you to perfect health, but mentally at least you began to feel a bit better. The worry of your workload was off of your shoulders, because there was no way that you wouldn't breeze through it with Tony and Bruce's help, the two best academics in the world, and they just happened to be your family.

Plus with Nat and Clint picking you up, that took away the struggle of caring for yourself. You wouldn't have to muster the energy to cook proper meals, or sort yourself out through the sickness.

You did as Natasha had instructed, taking some medicine and packing a weekend bag. The latter wasn't strictly necessary, given you had a whole second set of belongings at your room in the compound, but it contained some comforting items (and some laundry to do back home). Heading into the common room of your flat, you let your flatmates know that you’d be heading home for a bit, and they wished you well. You hadn’t exactly told them that you’d been adopted by the Avengers, so upon receiving Natasha’s ‘we’re almost there’ text, you said goodbye and headed out of the flat to the secluded area you were usually dropped off at. It wasn’t too far from where you lived, but it was away from prying eyes who may notice that the Avengers were in town.

—————————————————

Clint greeted you at the ramp, hauling your bag into a locker for you, then ensuring you were properly strapped in before Natasha brought the jet up.

"Are you feeling any better?" she called from the cockpit,

"A little, the headache is gone... I think. Stomach still hurts though"

"Do you think you'll throw up?" Clint asked, nudging the bucket he had next to him a little closer to you.

You huffed, working the answer out yourself, "probably not"

"Well that's good because I don't want to have to empty that bucket when we land" he joked, and you replied with a strained laugh. Slumping your head back when pain shot through your stomach again.

"Have a lie down Y/N" he advised, "try to sleep, although with Nat flying..." he trailed off, but you giggled all the same, especially when the aforementioned woman threw up a middle finger at the man without even turning.

"With me flying you'll have the smoothest ride of your life, it'll be easy to sleep" Natasha continued, earning a scoff from Clint.

"but it wouldn't even compare to if I was flying"

"yeah, because if you were flying this whole plane would be shaking violently"

"I don't even need to tell you again that I was the best pilot SHIELD had"

"sure. Til I joined"

You smiled at the back and forth, already feeling calmed by the family dynamic you'd grown used to. Curled up on the bench, the sounds of their playful (and longstanding) argument lulled you to sleep; so, before you knew it, the quinjet was beginning it's descent.

"C'mon Y/N/N, up we get. You still feeling okay?" Nat whispered, rousing you from your nap. Clint was already at the ramp, his mission bag and your bag slung over his shoulders, while Nat already carried her own. You nodded, sleepily sitting up and following the duo back to your home. Natasha pulled you into a side hug as she walked, both to help support you and because she missed you. You missed it too, so easily leant in to her hold.

“We didn’t tell the others you were coming, thought it would be a nice surprise for them” she explained, “but after saying hi I think you should head to bed, it’s late. You had dinner, right?”

“Yeah” you nodded

“Good, ok let’s go see the team then”

You stood behind the pair while entering the common room; the whole team was there, watching some film on the TV.

“We’re back” Clint announced, slight annoyance in his voice that none of the team had turned around. You knew it was fake though, he himself had predicted that it would take a while until they realised you were there too.

“Hey Clint, hey Nat, how was the mission?” Tony replied nonchalantly, he knew what he was doing. Steve turned first, a grin spreading on his face as he saw you, though he didn’t comment, warned not to by Nat’s finger on the lips.

“Yeah it went ok, mission was a success, we picked up a stray on the way back though” Natasha teased, smirking at the speed Tony swivelled around, worried they’d brought an animal into the compound unannounced.

“Y/N!�� he exclaimed, jumping up and over the sofa to greet you, prompting the rest of the team to do the same. “This is a nice surprise, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I didn’t feel great and I just wanted to come home”. Tony jokingly pushed you an arm’s length away, before laughing and pulling you back, “obviously you’re welcome back any time”

“Alright Tones, give the rest of us a chance to say hi, yeah?” Rhodey scolded, pulling his best friend out of the way to greet you, followed by Steve, Thor, and Sam. Wanda hugged you last, excitedly talking you through everything that had happened since you’d last visited, even if you called her and the others everyday. Bruce and Vision were there too, but they both just waved and smiled, greeting you in their own way.

Natasha noticed your yawn and stepped in, “you can catch up properly tomorrow, but you’re ill and it’s midnight so let’s get you to bed”

“alright” you mumbled, “goodnight”

“Night, Y/N” the team echoed, returning to their film as Natasha escorted you to your room.

“You get changed, I’ll get you some water, okay? And if you need anything in the night or feel ill again just come knock on my door, or ask FRIDAY.”

“Thank you Nat”

“Of course. Now get some rest and I’ll see you later” she smiled, returning quickly with a glass of water then leaving and shutting the door softly.

—————————————————

You saw her again sooner than you’d hoped. Just a few hours later and you were awake again, the sickness in your stomach resurfacing. With a groan you made your way to the toilet, leaning over it for what seemed like hours. You sobbed when you threw up, “FRIDAY?” you muttered, “can you get Nat?”

“Of course Y/N”

Not even 30 seconds later, Natasha let herself quietly into your room, knocking on the bathroom door before entering. “I got sick Nat” you murmured,

“Oh honey, it’s okay, how are you feeling now?”

“Still not great”

“Alright, you stay there, I’ll bring your water in. Do you need anything else?”

“No”

She sat on the floor beside you, rubbing your back soothingly. “You know, I did this with Wanda the other day as well, maybe there’s something going around”

“Wanda needed comfort?”

“Everyone needs comfort when they’re ill, even Avengers, it doesn’t make you weaker” Natasha seemed to understand your thoughts, she always did. Knowing exactly the right words to say at all times. “It’s what we’re for, to help you when you’re at your weakest.”

“I missed you Nat”

“I know y/n/n, but you’re back now and we’re around whenever you need. Now if you’re not imminently throwing up, how’s about you try to go to bed, sleep will help you feel a bit better”

“Alright”

“Alright, night love”

“Goodnight, thank you Nat”

“No worries”

—————————————————

The morning after you were feeling a lot better, able to happily eat the pancakes Wanda had made for you and join in with the team’s conversation. On Steve’s request, you promised not to work until later, relaxing without the thought of your work on your mind. And when that later came, Tony instantly volunteered to sit with you as you did it, working on his own project in the lab.

He checked over your calculations, making sure the ones you had done already looked correct, and giving some hints for the questions you had been struggling on. And having FRIDAY was a massive help, it was so much quicker than trawling through the internet or textbooks, and meant you could actually get on with the proper work without getting distracted. You were done in no time, moving on to the worksheets with Tony's help.

He explained each topic to you in a much better way than half of your lecturers, taking the time to ensure you understood it, not just speeding on to the next chapter. And once you understood it, of course the problems became a lot simpler.

It still took a couple of days to catch up, but it was much better than the weeks of work (and probably crying) it would have taken otherwise.

On top of Tony's help, Natasha ensured you both took frequent quick breaks, where you'd go up to the common room to chat with the others. It was good to be back, listening to the others go from serious mission talk to suddenly goofing off or having debates over the most random topics, like the best Mario Kart character. They were a chaotic family, but somehow the most calming presence to you.

And they knew exactly how best to calm you down. "Can you come outside with me?" Wanda asked after the second night, and of course you agreed, following her to the roof of the compound.

You sighed contentedly as you emerged, transfixed by the clear night's sky, stars dotting through the blackness. "I thought you might like to come up" Wanda spoke,

"I always do" you smiled, "one day I want to go somewhere with no light pollution"

"Sokovia used to be like that" Wanda nodded, "it was nice. It also usually meant a country wide blackout but still..."

"That's not something you'll have to worry about here. I bet Stark has several back up generators"

"Yeah probably, but we could always just ask him to turn the lights off, make it a bit better"

You hummed, "he'd do it as well, but then the whole team would be up here"

"and it wouldn't be as peaceful as this" Wanda agreed

"I think Tony would start listing the star names"

"Or Bruce"

"Or Vision"

"No, he likes to just appreciate them" Wanda corrected and you smirked, tilting your head to look at her,

"You two have been stargazing together?"

"I- n- I mean, yeah, as friends, like you and I do"

With a scoff you looked back up at the sky, "you have a crush" you sang teasingly, "he has a crush on you too, you know? That's why you always get special treatment from him"

"No I do not"

"Don't deny it, I talked with Nat about it and she agreed"

"She did? I mean, why were you talking about me and Vision, surely there's better things to talk about"

"Nah, it was a pressing topic, and we talk about a lot of things"

"I thought I'd find you two up here" a new voice cut through, and both you and Wanda sat straight up, feeling like you'd been caught. "You're not in trouble, Jeez, why do you both look like that? Were you talking about me?"

"No" "Not at all Nat" you and Wanda answered quickly, making the assassin narrow her eyes,

"that's suspicious, but I'll let it slide. I was just wondering where you two were"

"Just looking at the stars"

"Ooh, budge up, I'm joining"

You moved slightly, though 'budge up' seemed redundant, given there was the whole roof to lie on. Natasha decided to squish between you and Wanda, and you rested your head on her shoulder, noting the witch doing the same on the other side.

There was a comfortable silence, just resting with perhaps your two favourite family members, not that you'd ever admit it to anyone. But then Natasha broke the silence, pointing at a certain star,

"You see that bright star? that's Sirius, the dog star, and around it is the Canis Major constellation"

You lifted your head up slightly, making eye contact with Wanda and smirking.

"We forgot to list Nat"

"How could we forget to list Nat"

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #platonic avengers #avengers & reader #natasha romanoff & reader #wanda maximoff & reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel #mcu

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

kissing strangers ~ pete davidson

word count: 2522

request?: yes!

“Can you do a story where the reader is at New Year's Eve and she wants to kiss someone and she kisses a random man she finds out it's Pete Davidson after?”

description: in which she’s single for the first time in years and decides to kiss the first person she sees at midnight on new year’s eve

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol usage

masterlist (one, two)

Why did I think this would be a good idea? you thought to yourself as you looked around at your fellow partygoers.

Your best friend had convinced you to come to a New Year’s Eve party thrown by someone you didn’t even know. Your boyfriend of five years had broken up with you just a few days before (between Christmas and New Years, perfect timing), and all you wanted to do was lay in bed and cry. Your friend, however, wanted to get you out of the house, even if it was just for one night.

“I’ll be by your side all night,” she had promised. “I won’t leave you alone at all.”

That lasted all of ten minutes.

The moment you walked through the door, the host of the party whisked your friend away. She called over her shoulder that she would come find you soon. That was roughly three hours ago and you were still stood in a corner all by yourself, watching your fellow partygoers having a much better time than you.

There were too many couples sitting or dancing together, grinding or making out. They were all basically one step away from fucking right there in front of everyone. If it wasn’t couples, it was single people attempting to hook up with anything that moved.

Being what felt like the only single person in the room made you regret coming. You found yourself even becoming angry at this thought and wanting to leave. But you were already two drinks deep and you were sure your friend was more than shitfaced at this rate. So, instead of leaving or sitting there and continuing to feel angry, you decided to follow her lead and get completely obliterated.

You down your next two drinks in quick succession, and did a few shots with a group of very drunk people that were in the kitchen when you went for your third. By the time you had gotten halfway through your third drink, you could barley see straight and your stomach was starting to churn.

You went outside for some fresh air, nearly sighing with relief when the cold air hit your face. You hadn’t realized how stuffy it had gotten inside until that moment.

You were leaning on the railing of the balcony, two couples standing on either side of you, already getting started on their midnight kissing. You cringed at the very public displays of affection, but also secretly wished you were still with your ex to do the same thing.

Who breaks up with someone before New Year’s? you thought to yourself. Especially so close after Christmas? The greedy fucker probably only wanted his Christmas gifts then to kick you to the curb.

Your anger started to rise at this, and just in time for someone to announce that there was only 30 seconds left of the year. Everyone raced outside, either onto the balcony where you were or into the yard below, to start the countdown to the new year. As they began to chant from 10, you noticed almost everyone around you had someone for their midnight kiss. Everyone except for you.

A combination of your anger and drunkenness caused you to make a decision you never would’ve made if you were sober.

“Five, four, three, two, one!”

Without thinking, you turned to the person closest to you that wasn’t already attached to another girl, and pulled him in for a kiss as the fireworks lit up the sky around you. Your poor victim seemed shocked at first, going completely tense as your lips met his. The somewhat sober part of your brain was screaming at you for your stupid decision (You don’t even know who this guys is! What if he’s some creeper or he has herpes or something?!), but you were too faded to really care at that point.

His hands found your waist and he pulled you to him, pressing his body as close to yours as he possibly could. Your hands gripped at the soft material of the shirt he was wearing, slipping under for just a moment to feel his warm skin against your cold hands.

Before either of you could go further, though, your stomach lurched and you quickly pulled away from him. You had gotten just a glance of what he looked like before you went running back into the house and to the nearest bathroom.

After hogging the bathroom for upwards of 20 minutes, you finally stopped throwing up and were able to get up from your place beside the toilet. You splashed your face with some cold water and decided your best course of action was to get some water, find your friend, and leave as soon as possible.

The first stage was very easy to fulfil, however the party was so jam packed with people, and the lights were so dim, that it was hard to tell where your friend could’ve gone. You were starting to wonder if maybe she ditched you for the host of the party, or for some guy she had picked up along the way. Neither would’ve surprised you all that much.

You decided to take your water and sit outside the front door to see if she would leave any time soon. If you didn’t see her within the next hour, you decided you’d just walk home on your own.

You were finishing the contents of your cup when someone sat next to you. He was a tall guy, around your age, with messy black hair and brown eyes so deep you felt like you could get lost in them. You almost had to chastise yourself for thinking of him in this way so soon after your heartbreak, but you had to admit that he was a very attractive man.

“I hope my kissing wasn’t that bad that you had to go vomit,” he said.

It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, and when you did you cringed. “Fuck, that was you?” He nodded, a slight grin on his face. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. That was so wrong of me, I hope I didn’t ruin your night or anything?”

“Again, only the thought that you threw up because you kissed me would have ruined my night,” he responded. “Trust me, I will not complain about a beautiful woman randomly kissing me during a party.”

You blushed at his compliment and looked down at your cup, hoping he wouldn’t see.

“I didn’t throw up because of the kiss,” you assured him. “I just had too much to drink way too quickly and it all caught up to me at once.”

“Sounds like normal New Year’s Eve party behavior.”

You shook your head. “Not for me. I don’t usually drink. I kinda went overboard tonight because...” You trailed off, looking up at your still unknown midnight kiss. “Sorry, you don’t wanna hear this. We don’t even really know each other.”

“Well, we can fix that. I’m Pete, and you are?”

“(Y/N).”

“Nice to properly meet you, (Y/N).” You giggled and shook the hand he offered to you. “Now, tell me, what has you so troubled that you got shitfaced, kissed a stranger, then threw up? And now has you sat out here all by yourself.”

You sighed and looked down at your lap. “My um...my boyfriend of five years broke up with me a few days ago. My friend dragged me to this party to get me out of the house, but she immediately ditched me, and watching all these couples being lovey dovey with one another, or horny drunks trying to hook up, just sort of set me off. I decided to get absolutely drunk, and at midnight I was drunk and angry so...I kissed the nearest single person.”

“Which was me,” Pete finished.

“Which was you,” you confirmed. “At least, I hope you’re single. If you have a girlfriend already I am very sorry.”

Pete chuckled. “Don’t be sorry. I am very much single. I don’t think a girl has even looked at me that way in months. That I know of, anyways.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, happy to know that you hadn’t drunkenly made the moved on a man who was already taken.

“And, if I might add,” Pete continued, “I know that I literally know nothing about you besides your name, but your ex is definitely an idiot. Five years and he decides to end it? Not even put a ring on it? That’s shitty, and stupid. If I were your boyfriend, I’d put a ring on it within a few months.”

You giggled and shook your head. “You don’t mean that. You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t, but I know your kissing is so good that I’d never let it go.”

Your face heated up with blush again. This time, Pete caught it and smiled back at you.

The door opened behind the two of you and you looked over your shoulder, hoping to finally see your friend again. When a group of drunk girls walked out instead, narrowly avoiding kicking the two of you or tripping over you, you sighed and rolled your eyes to yourself.

“I know, drunk girls, right?” Pete joked, thinking your reaction was to the girls who were now walking away.

“That wasn’t meant for them,” you told him. “It was meant for the friend I came here with. I spent who knows how long trying to find her after I threw up so we could go, or at least so I could tell her I’m leaving, but there’s no sign of her anywhere. I’m just annoyed that she ditched me when she told me she wouldn’t.”

“That’s fucked up,” Pete agreed. “Listen, this may be a bit forward since we only just met, and I understand if the answer is no, but I haven’t been drinking tonight. If you want to go home, I can drive you home. Fuck your friend, leave her here to get home on her own. I think you have more than a good enough reason for that.”

While part of your mind was screaming at you to not get into a car with this man that you didn’t know, the other part was reminding you of your stomach, which was still not feeling the best, and the heartbreak that led you to coming to the party and meeting Pete in the first place. You just wanted to be home and, at this rate, you’d take any offer to get home.

“Yes please,” you responded. “That’d be fantastic.”

Pete smiled and stood. He offered you his hand and pulled you to your feet. You stumbled slightly, falling into him. He quickly wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you. You looked down into his eyes and felt your legs turn to jelly (although, that also could’ve been thanks to the alcohol still in your system).

“Can you walk?” Pete teased.

“I can,” you confirmed, pulling from his embrace and slowly walking down the two small stairs. He laughed at your attempt to seem sober and led you to his car.

The minute he turned on the heat, you were blasted with hot air against your face. He quickly reached to turn it off, but you caught his hand before he could. “Leave it on, please. It was way too cold outside for me to just be sat around in jeans and a t-shirt.”

Pete chuckled and agreed.

As he started driving, you rested your head against the window, a weird sensation of the cold glass mixed with the hot air surrounding you. The world outside passed in a blur and you could barley focus on it too much as it was hurting your eyes and your head. You ended up closing your eyes for a while and, before you know it, Pete was waking you up outside of your apartment.

“I’m gonna help you to the door,” he decided. “Just to make sure you don’t pass out or anything on the way there.”

You wanted to protest, but you knew that was a smart idea. You were suddenly feeling very tired and could already feel the effects of the hangover you’d have in the morning.

Pete helped you out of the car and walked you to your door, one hand around your waist as he did so. His touch was warm and you just wanted to stay there forever.

You got to the door and unlocked it. You stepped in and turned to Pete, almost expecting him to be following you inside. Instead, he stayed just outside the door, leaning against the doorframe.

“Well, m’lady, you have made it home safe and sound,” he said. “Make sure you keep an Aspirin by your bedside table for your hangover tomorrow, and drink a lot of water.”

“I will,” you told him. “Thanks again for all of this, Pete. It means a lot to me that you’d drive me home.”

“Anything for my midnight kiss.”

You giggled at this. You both stood in silence for some time. You didn’t want Pete to go. Although you were still feeling an ache in your heart, you could also feel something else for Pete. Something that went beyond two strangers kissing at midnight, or a potential rebound with him. You felt like, once you got to know him, you might have some real feelings for him.

“I feel like it’s my duty to make sure you’re not completely miserable tomorrow when you wake up,” he said suddenly. “So, I hope it’s not too forward if I ask you for your number. Just so I can check on you tomorrow, of course.”

You smiled brightly. “Of course. Give me a second.”

You grabbed a pen and a sticky note and wrote your number down. As you passed it to him, his smile mirrored your own. He looked down at the number for a long time before looking back up at you.

“This is a real one, right? I’m not gonna call a Chinese place by accident tomorrow?”

You laughed. “Yes, it’s my number. You gotta have some faith in people, Pete.”

He nodded. “You’re right. I do. One last question before I go: do you think we could try that midnight kiss again? You know, without you running away to vomit afterwards.”

“I can’t promise I won’t vomit, but I’d love to try the kiss again.”

Pete smiled and almost immediately took you into his arms. Your lips pressed against his and you could almost hear the fireworks that had been lighting up the sky during your first kiss. Except, this time, there were no actual fireworks. It was just the feeling that came from kissing Pete.

He pulled away from the kiss first, literally having to drag himself away from you. “Goodnight (Y/N).”

“Goodnight Pete.”

You closed and locked the door behind him, watching him walk back to his car and start it before silently celebrating to yourself.

I guess tonight didn’t turn out so bad after all.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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make-me-imagine · 3 years

Text

Daffodils: New Beginnings

Valentines Special: Day Eight

Day One: Morning Glories // Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers // Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips // Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus - Day Nine: Red Roses (link to post with all endings listed)

Plot: The reader keeps receiving flowers and sweet messages every day from an anonymous source leading up to Valentines Day. But who is sending them?

Choose your own character ending (coming on Valentines Day).

Gender!Neutral Reader x ???

Triggers: Brief mention of fighting Words: 1,569

Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @thebookbakery, @groovyfluxie Requested Taglist: @spuffyfan394, @gaitwae, @fablesrose, @kitkatd7, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @beksib, @destynelseclipsa, @criminaly-supernatural, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus, @snarky--starky, @saintbootlegloras, @wecallhimbrowneyess, @empath-bunny, @okkulta, @katinthemoon, @ravennight41, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs , @anonymous-pls-dont-click , @username23345, @hulkswitch, @theofficialzivadavid, @lainphotography, @fred-deeks-ben, @normanijauregui, @goinggoinggonzo, @mxxnmocha, @euphouriaszn2, @trikruismybitch,

February 13th

"You sure you’re alright?” Wanda asked as she watched your rub your shoulder.

“I’m good, just a little sore.” you said reassuringly.

You had been called out on a mission with Steve, Wanda, and Natasha to check out a possible hit on a SHIELD office. You managed to catch the assault team before they made it into the building, but a fight broke out. When you were fighting one of the men, he pulled you down a short flight of stairs, you banged your shoulder pretty bad, but it seemed to be alright now.

You were riding back to the tower now, sitting in the back seat with Wanda.

“You should get your shoulder checked out when we get back, just in case.” Steve said, looking at your through the drivers mirror.

“Is that an order Captain?” you asked with sarcasm as you leaned forward, talking to Steve over the seat.

You could see him smirk at your question as he peaked back at you “If it has to be, then yes.”

You smiled in amusement as you sat back in your seat “Yes sir” you said, saluting, making Wanda chuckle and Natasha and Steve smirk at your response.

Doing just as he said, you had your shoulder scanned in the medical wing once you returned. But finding no real damage you went back to work. Entering into the large main room, you staggered back as a man carrying a large box passed by you when you came through the doors. Looking around you saw a bunch of people walking around. It took you a moment before you remembered that they were the people hired to set up the Valentines party.

This room was going to be the main room for the party, tables set up for the dinner and a stage in the front for the entertainment. Seeing through the large doors to your left, you figured that would be where the dancing would take place.

Looking around, you could tell the color scheme was going to be gold and red, classy, but a bit gaudy in some areas. You saw Tony walk through nearby doors, explaining something to one of the decorators, turning, he spotted you. Leaving the decorator with a last instruction he walked over to you.

“So, what do you think so far?” he asked as he stood next to you, motioning to the room.

“No chocolate fountain?” you asked with sarcasm.

You saw his eyes light up as he snapped his finger “A chocolate fountain!” Turning to one of the nearby people, he got their attention “Any chance of getting a chocolate fountain?”

You rolled your eyes “Tony, that’s too much!”

“No no, it’s a good idea” he said to you before looking back to the other person who began writing something down “And get some skewers, fruit and marshmallows, it can be like a giant fondue station.”

“That doesn’t sound very sanitary” you said with a frown.

He hesitated for a moment “No, it’ll be fine, we’ll put up a sign, no double dipping” You shook your head with a laugh as he turned fully towards you “So, how’d your little mission go?”

“Fine, we stopped the assault, arrested all of the members, Nat and Clint will be questioning them.”

Tony opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted as someone called him from across the room “Go ahead, I’ve got to get back to work anyway” you said as you parted ways. Leaving the room you felt anxious again thinking about the party and what would happen. Trying to shake away the anxiety, you got back to work.

- - -

You managed to distract yourself by working the rest of the day, and now you were sitting at the kitchen bar in the public part of the tower. Public meaning it could be accessed by all of the Avengers.

“Hey” Wanda greeted as she wandered in “What are you doing in here?”

You smiled at her and lifted your hand in greeting “Just finished work, I’m waiting for the rest of the party planners and decorators to leave for the day, they are constantly using the elevators and stairs, filling them with people and stuff.” you chuckled.

She sat down next to you “Yeah, I couldn’t even get to the elevator in the first place” she chuckled “How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s good, no pain anymore.” you responded “So, are you looking forward to Tony’s party?” you asked her.

She shrugged “Not particularly. I’m not one for crowded parties.”

“Me neither, but Tony will never get over it if I don’t show up, you too probably.”

“Oh yes I know, he told me so himself” you both chuckled.

"Tony and his parties.” you commented just as the doors opened. Clint, Steve and Natasha walking in.

“Ah, there you two are. “ Clint said as they made there way over to you. Clint and Steve sat at the bar with you and Wanda as Nat moved behind the bar.

You sat and talked with the others for a while, about today’s planned attack, about who they were hired by, and then about Tony’s party. You started to feel the now familiar anxiety rise in your chest. Making yourself yawn, you feigned drowsiness before rising “Alright, I need to get some sleep.” you said, knowing that, though you were tired, you might not be able to sleep anyways.

“Goodnight” Wanda, Nat and Steve said as you began to leave.

“Hey” Clint said.

Turning back to him you rose your brow. “Did you get any flowers from your secret admirer today?” he asked with a smirk.

“Ooh, yeah I almost forgot about that” she smirked as she looked at you. Wanda and Steve turned to look at your as well.

“Uhh, no, but I haven’t been back to my room since lunch, soo”

“Soo, maybe there will be something now?” Nat said with a smile.

Saying nothing you just smiled, cocked your head and then spun around, leaving in silence. Hearing chuckling from the others behind you as you left. You had actually successfully been distracted to the point where you forgot about the flowers.

Luckily all of the decorators and planners had been long gone, so you could make your way to your room easily. As you stopped at your floor, you braced yourself for what would be on the other side, feeling a sense of familiar excitement.

As the doors slid open, your eyes were already trained on your door. And placed at the bottom, was a tall bouquet of pale yellow daffodils tied together with white silky ribbon, a note dangling from the side.

Quickly making your way to your door, you unlocked it before picking up the bouquet and going inside. This was the last bouquet you would get before learning who was behind all of this tomorrow. Your heart seemed to be hammering in your chest as you stared at the note.

You were almost afraid to read it. You hesitated before setting it down and going to the bathroom. Getting ready for bed, you grabbed the flowers and put them into a vase, a new one you bought at the store. Sitting on your bed, you fiddled with the note in your hand. Slowly opening it, you psyched yourself up a bit before you began to read the note.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Daffodils

Daffodils mean “New Beginnings”. I chose these because tomorrow will be the start of a new beginning for the two of us. No matter what happens. I, of course have my own wishes of how tomorrow will go, and I am sure you do as well. Perhaps you have your own desires of who I am, and I hope that I do not disappoint you when you find out who I am.

I have so much more I want to write, but cannot seem to put it properly into words. I’m sure we are both nervous about tomorrow, but I do truly feel as though we are meant to be. And though I cannot see the future, I know tomorrow will be the start of something new, and I can only hope that it will be great. ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Reading over the note a few times you lied back on your bed as you stared up at the ceiling. You had stopped trying to figure out who it could be. Knowing that they were careful enough not to let anything seem obvious. And if you had been talking to them one on one, or when everyone would be talking about the flowers, they were careful enough not to say anything that would make them seem suspicious.

For a moment, you debated not going to the party at all. And chickening out instead. But you only entertained the thought for a moment before you felt guilt for even thinking it. They did not deserve that. No matter how afraid you might be about what might happen tomorrow, they didn’t deserve to be stood up, especially not after everything they have said and done. But then again, what if they stand you up? What if they change their mind, and you never find out who they are?

You closed your eyes, your thoughts running rapid through every possibility of what could happen tomorrow. Eventually, without really realizing it, you had drifted off to sleep.

xx xx xx xx xx

Sooo, tomorrow is the day!

I will be releasing every ending throughout Valentines Day (10 in total); starting around 5am MST. Let me know if you want to be tagged in any specific endings.

The endings will be: Bucky, Steve, Tony, Bruce, Thor, Loki, Clint, Natasha, Vision and Wanda.

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sunnysviolin · 3 years

Text

Omotober Day Three- Picnics

If you want to read it on ao3 (now as one singular fic because I am a dum dum) you can do that here

When Hero suggested that the five of them get together and have a picnic, Basil was nervous, but excited. There was a part of him that would always be afraid, but more than anything he wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. A picnic could be the start of that.

But Basil should have known that things could never go back to the way they used to be.

“Forgiveness, reader, is, I think, something very much like hope and love - a powerful, wonderful thing.

And a ridiculous thing, too.”- Kate DiCamillo

Basil wasn’t really sure what to expect when their group decided to get together for a picnic again like they used to, but his first inclination wouldn’t have been that there would be a fist fight about to break out.

After the fight, and the hospital, and everything that came after, things had gotten surprisingly calm and quiet. The guilt that had eaten his insides for all those years was gone, and in its place was peace. Yes, he still felt awful about what they had done, but the secret was over, and he no longer had to hold all of that pain by himself.

Their friends had accepted the truth at varied rates, and Basil was sure it would take a long time before they ever even came close to forgiving him or Sunny. Aubrey was still quick to anger, Hero was still avoidant of the pain, but things had changed. Something about those last few days Sunny had spent with them in Faraway had changed them all, made everyone more open to trying with each other again. Even after they learned everything.

It felt good to be friends again, to be able to look at their faces without the self loathing threatening to crush him. He would take whatever halted measures of friendship they would give, if it only meant not being alone again. So when Hero suggested a picnic, Basil eagerly agreed without thinking twice.

He should have thought twice.

The planning had gone perfectly fine. Kel was a hundred percent on board, and he had even offered to help with making the food. The other boy seemed most pleased that it was Hero specifically who was extending the branch out. Basil knew that, of all of them, Hero was probably going to have the most mixed emotions about what he and Sunny had done. Still, Hero was Hero. Even if he hated them both, he would never reveal it.

Aubrey had seemed unsure, but Kel’s enthusiasm and the promise of getting Sunny back to join them had her agreeing. Basil knew she and Sunny talked on the phone pretty often, maybe even more than Sunny and himself. Aubrey was trying hard to make up for the last four years, and she spent most of her time with Basil or by herself. She said it was to ‘figure things out’ and he didn’t pry. He knew how hard it was to accept things in your past that you didn’t want to think about or the parts of yourself that you didn’t like all that much.

Then there was Sunny. They had all crowded together around Kel’s home phone to talk to Sunny about their idea. He had agreed to come and made plans to sleep at Kel and Hero’s house the night of their picnic. Logically it would have made more sense for him to stay with Basil, there was more room at Basil’s house, but it went unspoken between them why Kel and Hero had extended the offer instead. He would catch the train in and out and be back by dinner the next day, it wasn’t a far journey. None of them had seen Sunny since the hospital, at least not in person, and Basil wondered what it might be like to lay eyes on the other boy now.

The day came and they had split into natural groups. Most of the preparations were already done, but there were a few things to finish up on the morning of. Hero would take care of finishing the food, Aubrey would set up in their spot in the park, and Basil and Kel were going to go pick up Sunny from the train station.

Everything was good. The day was bright and warm with not a single cloud in the sky, Sunny’s train had arrived right on time, and Sunny had even greeted them both with quick but tight hugs and a small smile. He was still wearing an eyepatch (and apparently would always be from now on) but he looked a lot better. The bags under his eyes were gone, and the greying pallor of his skin had vanished. He held himself a little straighter, spoke a little more, and the air of fear that seemed to surround Sunny had dissipated into nothing.

Kel had grabbed both of their hands and swung them through the air as they walked towards the park, chattering about what he and Hero had planned for that day. Basil was content to let Kel do most of the talking and shared a secret amused look behind his back with Sunny. This was something that had happened all the time when they were kids, and the nostalgia of it was easy to fall into.

When they got to the park and saw Aubrey, things were awkward for all of two seconds before she punched Sunny gently on the arm and ruffled his hair, bringing them over to the set up she had created. The picnic blanket was a checkered blue, not red, but it was soft. There was the scent of flowers in the air from the bushes nearby in bloom, and a breeze twirled the pinwheels clustered in the distance. It felt so blissfully...normal. Like they could just fall right back into step where they left off all those years ago.

Basil should have hit himself over the head for thinking that.

It started so innocently. They were waiting for Hero to arrive and sighing about how nice their little corner of the world was, when Aubrey made an offhand comment about her friends potentially joining them next time. Before Basil could even really process what her words, Kel had said no. He hadn’t said it in a joking way or to tease her. Kel had snapped, and the tension in his shoulder and the hardness of his eyes told them all that he was deadly serious.

It was jarring. Of all of them, Kel had always been the friendliest. Hero may have been the most popular, but Kel wasn’t far behind his brother in natural charm. He was sweet and sincere, and almost always willing to get to know people. It wasn’t like him to shut down so quickly or with such force. Kel’s face was stormy and he was avoiding eye contact with all of them, keeping those hard eyes locked with the ground. Aubrey seemed livid, but she sat stony and silent, waiting for more of an explanation. The one that came only made things worse.

“I just don’t see why you would even wanna be around them anymore,”

Aubrey, loyal beyond words, had swooped in to defend the rest of her gang, claiming that they were good people who were great friends. This had only made Kel scoff, which infuriated her even more. Basil was used to Aubrey and Kel getting into arguments, he was even okay with the escalated fight that had happened at the dock (seeing as he blamed himself for causing it), but this was unlike any of those.

Normally it was Kel who kept fairly cool during these things, and Aubrey that went ballistic. Yes, Kel fought right back with her and gave as good as he got, but he had always seemed calm and collected, mostly joking around and poking fun at how red Aubrey’s face would get.

Now it was his cheeks that were tinged, and his throat that was raw from screaming, in a way that Basil had never seen before. He stayed silent and tried to keep himself small, hands clasping together over his chest as he tried to remember the deep breathing techniques Polly had been teaching him. They didn’t seem to be working. A quick glance to the side showed Sunny in a similar state of distress, watching their friends argue with a wide eye and clear panic etched into his features.

Aubrey and Kel’s argument devolved fast, going from something that held worth to just being insults hurled back and forth. They began to advance on each other, clearly done with words and moving past to blows, but a voice cut through, breaking the intensity that had caught them all firmly in its grip.

“What’s going on?”

The four of them turned around simultaneously, varying stages of guilt evident on everyone’s faces. Hero emerged from the brush, carrying a large wooden picnic basket on one arm, his mouth turned downwards.

He surveyed the moment and sighed, a tired sound that betrayed a weight that they all knew Hero carried but refused to let them bear with him. The eldest walked over and gently placed the basket down on the blanket, glancing at each of them in turn.

“You okay, Sunny?” Hero asked, and Sunny nodded. He seemed calmer now that someone was intervening, but fear was still there. Hero patted him once on the top of his head and peered around the youngest. “Basil?”

Basil nodded too, his own words caught in his throat. It wasn’t the same as when Something had been squeezing him too tight to breathe, it wasn’t that bad yet, but it was still pretty bad. Nothing he couldn’t handle though, and Basil knew that Hero needed to be focusing on the other two right now. With both of them checked on, Hero stood at his full height and stared at the others.

“Explain,”

Both teens burst into words, voices raising as they tried to shout over each other and interject to disprove what the other had just claimed. Hero listened to the cacophony for a moment and then raised his hands, yelling over them to quiet down. Once it was settled again, Hero turned to Aubrey.

“Aubrey, you go first. You can talk with no interruptions. Then Kel is going to talk with no interruptions, and we’re all going to listen to each other. I want each of you to explain to me why you’re fighting, okay?” Both teens nodded, and Hero sat down, gesturing for the other two to sit back down as well. They did, and then Aubrey began to talk.

“Out of nowhere Kel starts going off about my friends and talking bad about them for no reason,” Kel made a noise here and Hero looked at him. The younger brother rolled his eyes but stayed silent, and Hero waved a hand at Aubrey to continue, “I don’t get why he’s so angry, but I don’t care. He had no right to say all of those things. That’s why they don’t like you, you just assume the worst of them.”

Kel shot a harsh glare towards the girl, something fiery and fueled with a deep rage that was completely out of character for him. Then when he spoke, the oddities only continued.

“I didn’t start ‘out of nowhere’. You started this by saying you wanted us all to hang out with them. Like we’re all pals. Did you forget that the only thing you did when you spent time with them was bully people and act like none of us mattered to you? You keep talking about how you wanna change, but you don’t. You just want to act like nothing you did mattered. They bullied m- Basil for years! If you’re really our- his friend I don’t know why you don’t want to protect Basil from those guys,” Kel finished his speech with a huff, crossing his arms and curling in on himself.

“I apologized to Basil plenty already!” Aubrey replied, a glance to Hero when she began. When he didn’t interrupt her, she kept going, “He forgave me, and now we’re trying to get past it. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Maybe we should listen to what Basil thinks?” Hero suggested, trying to keep the conversation from riding off the rails as it had before, “If you’re both so worried about him, it seems like his opinion would be the most important thing here,”

Then all eyes were on him, waiting to hear what he had to say. Basil twisted his fingers in his lap and laughed nervously, his mouth filling with cotton as both sides of the argument clearly looked for his backing.

“I-I don’t know?” He finally replied, the words sounding small and useless, only making everyone madder, “I wouldn’t mind trying I guess. Seeing if if it works out, ya know?”

Hero perked up here, shooting Basil a grateful smile. Aubrey seemed vindicated and her anger began to melt. The tension eased out of the air, and Basil breathed out. It was all going to be okay now. It was just a regular Kel and Aubrey fight. They would hug the way Hero always forced them to at the end of their arguments, and then the five of them could enjoy the afternoon together.

“Kel, if Basil is okay with it then it’s fine. Why don’t you two hug and make up and then-”

“What if I’m not okay with it, Hero?!” Kel exploded, cutting his brother off, “What about that?!”

Stunned silence coupled with an even stronger tension surrounding the group. Kel and Aubrey fighting he could understand, even Kel and Aubrey dragging Hero in to play referee he could understand, but never before had Basil seen Kel yell at Hero. Kel worshipped the ground Hero walked on, his big brother could do no wrong, and Basil had never seen any evidence that he ever had.

But Kel wasn’t done yet, and he continued his yelling. It was like something had cut into him with those words, and now that something, dark and black, was finally getting a chance to leak out of Kel. Basil knew all about Somethings. About how painful it was to live with them, about how they always eventually burst out and demanded to be seen. He just had never thought Kel might have a Something too.

“It isn’t fair that they get to spend years being terrible people. and then just act like they never did any of it. It isn’t fair that I have to just pretend like they weren’t awful to me. Like I didn’t spend most afternoons crying on my walk home because of them. Like I didn’t have to second guess everything single thing I did because they made me think that I was a bully.”

Basil had remembered hearing them calling Kel that before, and it had confused him then too. Kel had never done anything like bullying to anyone, but Basil had dismissed it. It seemed so ridiculous to him, he thought Kel would have just let it go too. Apparently not

“All I’ve ever done is try to help. I smiled and laughed and pretended like nothing bothered me because that’s what everyone else needed. And what did that get me? A bat to the face and being told by my own bullies that I was the one messing with them. They’re the bullies. Mean, angry bullies who I never did anything to. Except try to be friends with you.” Kel finally pulled his eyes to Aubrey with this final word, cutting his furious ranting off with a half laugh half sob. He brought his knees up to his chest and put his arms on top of them. He wasn’t crying, but the pain in his eyes was enough to make Basil’s own chest ache in sympathy.

“And then you let them call me a bully. When I didn’t do anything except try to help.”

Kel dropped his head against his knees, hiding and breathing harshly. His shoulders rose and fell. Up and down and up and down as he panted with exertion from his outburst of emotion. None of them made a sound. Basil wouldn’t have known what to say after that, and he was sure no one else did either. They also couldn’t have been prepared for the final blow that was about to be dealt.

“You all just wanna pretend like none of it ever happened...like all that time didn’t matter.” Kel’s voice was muffled, but the words hit all of them like a punch to the gut.

It wasn’t just about this one fight, it wasn’t even just about Aubrey’s friends. It was bigger, stretching out for years and years of suffering that had never been addressed. Basil’s breath caught in his throat, and he could see the others were in a similar state of shock. He looked down at his interlocked fingers, his stomach twisting up in knots.

It was so easy to forget with Kel. It was so simple to just get lost in his happy go lucky personality and his endless bounds of optimism. He always had time for them all, always willing to go that extra mile to help out his friends when they needed him.

He hadn’t given up on them. He hadn’t stopped knocking on Sunny’s door, even when he never answered. He hadn’t stopped saying hi to Basil, even when he didn’t say hi back. He hadn’t stopped encouraging Hero, even when Hero had no encouragement left to offer in return. He had even still looked for the good in Aubrey, when she had nothing good to say about him. That was just who Kel was, someone who kept trying.

But Basil knew better than any of them that a person could only be pushed so far before there was a part of them that was cracked and bleeding and needed others to heal it. Kel was a nice person, a happy person, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his moments of doubt. The times where he needed to rely on them instead of the other way around. He never pushed, so no one ever was forced to notice all the bad thoughts and emotions piling up under that sweet sunshine smile. It was just easy to forget that those things existed behind his joy and his upbeat attitude.

They were the people who should have remembered to look. They were the ones who should have known. They had all wanted things to go back to the way they were, but the truth was they couldn’t.

There was no way to erase four years, no way to let go of what had happened to Mari. It existed, it was real, and all of them had tried to ignore it. All except for Kel, who had done everything he could to hold them all together without so much as a complaint. He was right, instead of acknowledging his sacrifices, they had acted like none of it had ever happened. That was what was unchallenging, that was what took no effort. But that was also what was killing Kel inside.

He didn’t know what they could say that would even start to mend four years of their friend trying and failing and continuing to try against all hope. What could a person say to that kind of dedication? What kind of thanks could be given to someone who took on that burden without a word until it had nearly crushed him?

It turned out that Basil didn’t need to know the answer. There was someone else who did.

Aubrey rose up from her spot across from Kel on the picnic blanket and plopped down next to him, turning her head away from the other boy. Her hand moved to his, settling on his elbow and grabbing his attention. Kel raised his head, staring silently at her as she looked at him from the side.

Basil didn’t know what conversation the two of them had without words, but he suspected he would never know. Things like that were only ever meant for two people, and even asking about it was treading on something sacred. Whatever it was, it was enough for Kel to uncurl from the position he had put himself in. He sat on his knees facing Aubrey, and she turned to do the same. She took a deep breath and raised her head, meeting his gaze fully.

“I’m sorry,”

It wasn’t much, when it came down to it. It wasn’t a long speech filled with tears and impassioned pleas. Aubrey wasn’t on her knees begging for forgiveness, or making promises to be better. She hadn’t even said it in a special tone or in a whisper meant just for the two of them. It was an apology, nothing more, nothing less.

It wasn't really much, but it felt so big. They were all touched by her words, all impacted by the enormity of such a small but profound statement. Sunny edged closer and leaned against Basil, and the weight against his side was warm and grounding. He looked down at the top of Sunny’s head, and the vines looping around his spine eased away once more.

When he turned back, Aubrey and Kel were hugging, sitting up on their knees and clutching hard to one another. He wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, but it wasn’t something he had ever seen. Basil has only ever seen them giving each other quick little hugs, or the awkward side squeezes Hero demanded after their fights. But this wasn’t either of those. It was genuine and real, and they both seemed a little reluctant when they pulled apart.

Hero, ever the older brother, beamed and pulled the basket to the center of their group, changing the subject to the food that he and Kel made. To anyone outside of their group, it might have seemed like a callous way to change the subject, but the other four were grateful for something to switch their minds to.

With the moment over, Aubrey went back to her usual brusque, digging into the basket and pulling out a sandwich and bottle of water. She grabbed the food and Sunny’s hand, dragging him over to one of the corners and demanding to hear about his new house. Sunny obliged her, talking about his room and the renovation plans his mother had begun.

Kel drifted over to Hero, falling against his brother’s side and leaning his head against Hero’s shoulder. Basil didn’t interrupt, but he watched Hero wrap Kel in his arms and whisper in his ear, something that had to be comforting given how Kel nodded and snuggled closer to his brother. Hero squeezed Kel and turned to Basil.

“How’s the new garden coming along?”

#Ugh that ending #Bleh #But I also don't have timme to doubt #anwyays!#omori fic #omori #omori kel #omori hero #omori sunny #omori basil #omori aubrey #angst #picnics #I just #hhhhhhh idk

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andreafmn · 3 years

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Running In Circles - Chapter 2

Word Count: 2,663

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter Description: The team goes back to work as Aaron Hotchner considers retiring from the team and spend time with his son. (Y/n) can’t help but provide emotional support for the Hotchner boys.

A/N: I enjoy angst and slow burns way too much XD. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 2

Once it was over, the interviews came. We knew the story. We lived it. The case was open and shut. They could try and make us pint it all on Hotch, the easy way out, but we knew better. And we would stand next to our unit chief whatever the price.

Haley’s funeral was no easier than being at the scene. It was a somber day and the sadness was imprinted in us. We all walked with dropped shoulders and a tight chest. I stood between Derek and Reid, using Morgan as support because I felt that my legs would give out at any moment. My father stood behind me rubbing circles on my back to comfort me. As we laid the roses on top of the casket, we laid to rest the life of Haley, a woman I only knew through the loving words Hotch spoke of.

The group did not know what to do to help the heartbroken man. It would take time to heal even just the smallest bit of his heart. All we could hope for was that he would come back to the team.

At the worst possible moment, the phone rings. No other team available and someone in need, we had to go to work. We all rolled our eyes or shook our heads; this was the job. But would it be the same without him?

I went to Hotch before we left and gave him a hug.

“Call me if you guys need anything,” he said.

“Just take care of your son,” I smiled, and he softly returned one of his own. I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and left to join the team.

On the plane, we were caught up with the case. We stored all our feelings and got the machines running. We needed to finish this quickly and perfectly.

Two women, both brunettes and young, high-powered executives, murdered in their own homes, the floor around them decorated with flower petals. After Emily and Derek visited the crime scene, we had another part of the puzzle, the unsub was stalking his victims. Everything just seemed so perfect and staged, there was no way he was not prepared.

I stayed with JJ in the station working on the announcement and trying to figure something else from the details provided and the crime scene photos, but JJ could see my head wasn’t in it completely for the first time.

“Hey,” she said, taking my attention from the piece of paper I had been eyeing for the past five minutes. “What’s on your mind? Talk to me.”

“Is it wrong that I feel bad for being here?” I sighed. “Working like nothing’s happened.”

“Of course not, we all feel a bit guilty,” she smiled. “I know you most of all.”

My eyes opened in shock.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). Everyone knows you have a not-so-secret crush on Hotch,” she laughed. “The only one that can’t see it is him. And probably your dad. Parents can be quite oblivious to their children’s feelings in this way.”

My head flew into my hands to cover the embarrassment that was flooding my cheeks. It was one thing to assume the whole team knew, another was to have it confirmed.

“It’s okay, (Y/N), we’ll see what comes of it. What I can say is that you can’t let this stop you from doing your job.”

She smiled one last time and it was all I needed to push Aaron Hotchner to the back of my mind and bring the case forward.

“Find anything?” My father asked entering the small room at the police station, Reid following behind.

“Several people had access to each home,” I said rubbing my temple. “Housekeeper, gardener, pool cleaner, dog walker…”

“Each with their own key and an alibi to match,” JJ added, an annoyed tone rolling off her tongue.

“Any crossover?”

“None. We even vetted delivery people and utility workers.” I sighed.

“Garcia, do you have anything?” Reid said, sitting down.

“There’s no hits at the prints at all. But I did what Sir Derek there asked, and I created a paper trail,” Penny explained. “There’s no cross-over between the two victims themselves in the weeks leading up to their murders, but they did run in similar circles.”

Penelope continued to explain how both victims lived quite a lavish and high-class lifestyle as Emily and Derek joined us. We figured this man would fit right in this crowd. Educated, intelligent, a gentleman. What we had yet to pinpoint was how the unsub entered the homes with no signs of forced entry. It was clear we were not going to make any headway tonight and Derek knew it too. So, he decided we should be done for the day and we would come back tomorrow well-rested and with fresh eyes.

That night I laid in the bed of my hotel room staring at the ceiling. All I could think of was Hotch and everything he was going through. I could only imagine.

And as if by fate, my phone rang. Aaron Hotchner.

“Hello?”

“Oh,” Hotch said surprised. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I haven’t been able to sleep.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I guess I’m just worried about you.”

He chuckled softly. “You really shouldn’t.”

“But I do, Hotch.”

He stayed silent, only his slow breathing was heard through the phone.

“Did I fail her?” He asked after some minutes of comfortable silence.

“Absolutely not.”

“I promised her that I would catch Foyet and spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

“And you still can.”

“But” he exhaled loudly. “How?”

“By being the best father you can be to Jack and continue living your life in the best way you can.”

“You know, Dave told me that I had to figure out what kind of father I wanted to be and then I’d know what to do. But I have no idea what that is.”

“Hotch…”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted. “I don’t know what kind of father I am. I catch killers. I save lives. I’m a hero until my key hits the front door, and then I’m just the father who’s never there. Haley was raising Jack all by herself and that was my support blanket. I was able to do my job because I knew he was cared for by another parent. A better parent.”

He sobbed softly as the last words escaped his mouth.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” I said, trying my best not to sound angry. “To that little boy, you are the only real hero that exists. He knows that when you’re not home it’s because you’re out here catching the bad guys like Foyet and making the world better for his sake. He knows that everything you do is out of love for him.

You know, when I was little my dad was absent quite a lot because of this job, but there was one thing that I knew for sure, that he loved me more than anything and that he worked better and faster because he wanted to come back home to me. And never ever have I resented him for leaving and catching the bad guys. He’s the reason I became an FBI agent.

You are an amazing father and anything you choose will be the right thing for Jack.”

After a minute of sobs, Hotch started to calm down.

“Thank you, (Y/N). You have no idea how much I needed that right now,” he cleared his throat. “How’s the case going?”

“Nope,” I laughed. “Not going to talk about the case.”

“Really?” He chuckled.

“Yes, Hotch. Take a breather. You deserve it.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, and I could hear his smile through the phone.

We had been talking for about an hour when I heard him yawn.

“Seems you’re getting sleepy there, Hotchner.” I laughed. “We should both get some rest. If it’s 3 am over here it must be 2 am in Washington. So, good night and see you soon.”

“Good night, (Y/N). Again, thank you. Sweet dreams.” And he hung up.

And finally, I drifted to sleep.

The next morning, we were up and ready for business.

“We believe our unsub is already with his next victim,” my father started. “If he matches the patter, she’ll be a successful woman, probably brunette, early 30s to mid-40s. She’ll be at home in Nashville’s upper echelon.”

“This means that he fits in,” I explained. “He drives the right car, he wears the right clothes, he’s highly intelligent. He probably comes from a place of status.”

“This guy’s sociable and he’s endearing,” said Morgan. “You would never suspect that this man is capable of murder. But he will do whatever it takes to protect the fantasy that he’s trying to relive.”

“It’s this fantasy which fuels his drive. He’s reliving a romantic evening and recreating it with each of his victims.”

“He most likely had a relationship taken away from him,” Derek crossed his arms. “So, look at men who have lost loved ones or have gone through a messy divorce.”

After finishing with the profile, we set out to establishments that fit the criteria to possibly get a suspect. As we worked, we got a call. Another crime scene, but this one was different.

A male victim. Overkill on the female. Something made him change his M.O.

Out in the garage, Reid and I looked for any sort of clues and I noticed his sight direct to the car. There may be another way we could connect the victims and how the unsub made their way into their homes.

Finally, Garcia had something with the hunch Spencer had figured. She overlaid all the geographical routes the victims had taken against the geo profile to show what we were missing with any paper trail. Although it was not a clear answer, Erika Silverman was the only one that did not fit the extravagant lifestyle and she only went and came from her work or her home. Except on Tuesday, where she went to the Botanical Gardens, what was she doing there? JJ, Reid, and I left for the gardens to find out.

And just as we had suspected, there had been an event to which Erika had attended. And a puzzle piece revealed itself.

“An event up here would be a hard sell for women in heels,” JJ commented.

“Well, most of our private events hire valets to drive the cars down to the base of the park so they don’t have to hike it up the hill.”

“Who had access to your keys but goes unseen?” Reid asked.

“And to your GPS,” I added.

“Dealerships program your home address into the navigation system before your car even leaves the lot.”

“He had turn-by-turn directions straight to her front door and the keys to get him inside,” I pointed.

We now had how he got his victims and how he entered their house without force. Now, all we had to do was pinpoint his next victim and see who he was.

JJ was instructed to get dad and Prentiss to pick up the owner of the valet service used in the event, and Derek, Reid, and I stayed behind to canvass the employees. We could catch this guy in action unless he had already gotten his next victim.

Joe Belser. That was our unsub. With the profile, the owner was able to point out the suspect quickly. And off we were.

JJ, Reid, and I headed to the venue and the rest of the team went to Belser’s house. He wasn’t in the apartment, but they had found the meaning behind the roses and universal garage door openers. In the venue, Reid called Garcia to see which of the VIP guests could be the next potential victim.

Ann Herron was the next victim, and he was already at her house.

“FBI! PUT IT DOWN!” Derek screamed, blinding Joe with his flashlight. I walked in from behind Derek and kneed Belser’s stomach. He fell to the ground groaning and Emily grabbed the man by the throat to immobilize him.

“Fantasy’s over,” she spat. “Is that what you did to them? You hit them to shut them up and then forced them to play along with your sick delusion?”

“I love them,” Joe said sinisterly.

“You’re finally gonna meet your soulmate, Joe,” I added from behind Prentiss. “In prison.”

“Only you’re not gonna be able to push him around like you did those women,” Emily continued. “And when he comes for you in the middle of the night, when you’re least expecting it, you do me a favor. Play along.”

She stood the man up forcibly and put him in handcuffs and I went outside to check on the victim.

“How is she?” Derek asked walking out of the house with my father.

“She’s strong,” I said closing the ambulance door. “She’ll make it. But you don’t survive something like that without scars.”

“Scars remind us where we’ve been,” my father commented. “They don’t have to dictate where we’re going.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and kissed my head as we walked back to the SUVs, finally on our way home.

The next day, I called up my dad so he would accompany me to Haley’s grave. Something told me I had to go. At the cemetery, I saw what the pull was. Sitting in front of the headstone less grave was Hotch. I walked up to him first, my father close behind. Hotch lifted his head and stared into my eyes, sitting up slightly.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” I spoke softly. “Have you told her yet?”

“Told her what?” He mused.

“That you’re coming back to the team,” my father joined his left side. Hotch looked at him. “That fighting the bad guys is who you are.”

Hotch lowered his head and shook it. “I don’t have to tell her. She already knows.”

I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and gave him a soft smile. My father did the same and walked to my side, so we’d retreat, giving Hotch some space.

“So, do you want me to drive you back to your house?” My father asked.

“No,” I smiled. “I’m gonna stay with Hotch for a bit and then I’ll go home.”

“Okay, darling.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll pick you up on Monday then. Ciao, Mia Bella.”

“Bye, dad.”

Once my dad left, I sat down on a bench and waited for Hotch.

“(Y/N), you’re still here?” Hotch questioned with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, thought you might want some company.”

“Truthfully,” he chuckled. “I do. Thank you.”

“How about this, we pick up Jack, you guys come over and I crack open a present I had for Jack.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he motioned me to his car. “Let’s go.”

We drove quietly to his apartment, only the low volume of the radio and the sound of our breathing could be heard. It didn’t take long to arrive at the complex, where he opened the car door for me and led me upstairs. Inside apartment #121, was Jessica Brooks, Haley’s sister, and Jack playing a card game.

“(Y/N)!” Jack screamed as soon as I walked through the door, running to give me a hug.

“Hey, buddy!” I hugged back.

“Hotch, you’re back,” she exclaimed. “Good to see you again, (Y/N).”

“Good to see you, too,” I smiled. “How you holding up?”

“As good as I can be.” She answered as she began to gather her things. “Well, I’ll see you soon. Bye, little guy.”

“Bye, Aunt Jessica.”

“Bye, guys.” She said as she left.

“Hey, little man,” I directed to Jack. “I’ve got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“How about you to pack a go-bag and you and dad come over so we can open a present I have for you?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed as he sped off to his room to pack.

“I think you should go help him,” I smiled at Hotch. “If I have any memory of being a kid, they’re not very good at packing.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Maybe I should.”

I waited for both father and son to pack for the night asking myself why I was putting myself in this position. Growing closer to a man I had a 0% chance with. But I couldn’t help it. All in all, he was my friend, and he needed all the support he could get.

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A/N: if you wish to be tagged for the next parts, please let me know. I’d be happy to. <3

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skei-seems · 3 years

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Professor Reid

(PART 1)

Summary: Reader kicks off first semester of university with a team project that requires a trip to another city. Her professor, Spencer Reid, is to accompany the team, but the journey takes an interesting turn when he offers to show her a pub in the city one night.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x (female) reader

Category: Smut [NSFW]

Warnings: Smut, Age Gap, Swearing

A/N: Please send me some feedback on this or requests, I would love to hear your thoughts. Also, do you guys prefer first person x reader or second person pov? Part 2 linked below ;)

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You could always see something coming from a mile away, it was a peculiar skill of yours to be able to plan out every possible outcome of any situation (especially the worst ones) in order to satisfy your anxiety. University was a new ground, it was unfamiliar and untrodden, and that’s what made it dangerous - the unforeseeable future.

As soon as you started criminal psychology class, you knew it would be your favourite. Perhaps it was because of the interesting analogy strategies, or the way the minds of the psychos worked, but mainly it was because of the gorgeous golden-locked professor. His intelligent hands gestured each time he spoke and the way they often ran through his hair to fix it, his big brown eyes scanning the room which sometimes met your gaze, and the nerdy button up shirts he wore was enough to set your lust for him on fire. The development of crushes on people that would never be interested in you was a frequent occurrence, and the probability of something happening between you was far from reality - you knew that - and that was where the satisfaction lay in it. Knowing nothing can or will happen, the infatuation was innocent and improbable.

“Okay class, I have an announcement to make,” the voice that sent goosebumps over your skin each time it sounded, boomed through the large classroom. You focused from a distance on his sharp eyes, before he looked down at a piece of paper in his hands. “There will be a trip to another university to join a team which will conduct a research project together,” some ‘ooh’s’ and ‘aah’s’ sounded there, ”but unfortunately I cannot take all of you.” Disappointment flooded through the room now, but a little jolt of excitement went through your body. A trip, to another town, with the hot professor. He continued, “I have selected five students based on how well they did in the last examination, the names of whom I read now please meet with me after class.”

Your heart sped up in your chest, you were even afraid the thumping could be heard by your surrounding classmates as he read off the names, and stopped when yours was the last. Part of you wished you could be as calm as the others when class ended and they slowly made their way to his desk, but the other part of you wanted to lather up every bit of excitement that coursed through your body as you approached the tall smart-looking man.

As he briefed the group on what you need to prepare and the plans for the trip, you calmed down and made some notes, but a strand of hair had fallen into his face which distracted you. When he finished the briefing and made sure everyone was okay with spending their first week of holiday doing a school trip, everyone made to leave. You pocketed your phone, looked around when you heard him say “Bye guys, see you on the weekend!” and made eye contact, he smiled awkwardly and averted his gaze to the others walking out the door. Your heart immediately started racing in your chest and only calmed once you got home, and you could not get those beautiful brown eyes out of your head.

---

It was the day of the trip. You would be driving together in a bus and stay at a hotel; you had free time in the mornings and evenings, project participation during the day and one free days to tour the city with your guide, professor Reid. Apparently if you did well, you would be allowed a night of celebration at the end in a very fancy club, which did not really seem like a reward to you, clubs were loud and full of sweaty drunk strangers.

The drive was long and seemingly endless with not much to do, and you were slightly amused to see that both you and the professor had brought a book to entertain yourselves with for the trip. When you arrived, the whole group set out to their rooms (each with a roommate) except for the professor, who made sure you knew where it was and that each had his number to call in case of emergency. He gave everyone the rest of the afternoon off to do your own activities, but you weren't allowed to go off alone, and had to be back at the hotel by 10.

You spent most of your free time reading or putting together work for the project, and by the third day the others had quickly formed a bond and gone off without you to have fun. It was about six thirty when you heard a knock on the door. Wondering who it was, you opened it to the gorgeous blonde professor.

“Hi Y/N, the others have all gone with the other university’s team to a restaurant and I’ve allowed them a later curfew, don’t you want to join them?” He asked, with a slight concern (probably because you were always alone). His brows were knit into a neat frown and you could imagine them being like that for a whole other reason, almost buckling your knees.

“Um,” you stumbled, thrown off by his sudden appearance and question, and thought for a moment. “To be honest I don’t really feel like being in that big group after spending the whole day with them.”

At this, he looked down and smiled, almost in a knowing way. “Well, if you want to get out, I’m going to meet some of my old university friends at a place that’s really nice,” then he sheepishly added, “and probably better than the restaurant your classmates chose.”

You bit your lip, he was asking you to come with him, without any other student present. “Your old university friends?”

“Yeah, this was where I studied before I moved and joined the FBI to become a profiler.”

Before you could answer, he added, “I just, couldn’t help but notice you haven’t gone out at all with the others. It wouldn’t sit right with me if you spend another night all by yourself.”

His words sent a rush of goosebumps over your skin. It made you look away with embarrassment that your introverted habits had not gone unnoticed. “Okay,” you said with forced sureness, and shyly looked at him again, “could I maybe just change real quick?”

He studied you a little and nodded. “Meet me at the foyer in fifteen minutes. You won’t regret it.” He seemed pleased with himself at convincing you to come out of your shell, and it sent electric sparks through your body that he made an effort for you, and only you.

Fifteen minutes later you walked up to the foyer. It turns out he had made the decision to change as well, going for a white buttoned up shirt, black fitting trousers and a pair of high top converse. You could not take your eyes off the man, and your stomach somersaulted at his rolled up sleeves that exposed his veiny forearms and watched wrist. As you came closer, he turned around and let his smouldering brown eyes travel down your body.

You flushed with warmth and redness as he took in your change of appearance, you wore black skinny jeans, a top that exposed your chest a little more than you would allow at school, and your go-to white sneakers.

“I was almost afraid you decided to stand me up,” he joked and shuffled his feet as the scent of your elegant rosey perfume engulfed him.

“Almost,” You chuckled, this informal stance was relaxing. You made your way down a couple of blocks while the professor talked a bit about the city, and finally entered a retro-looking pub. As you observed the place, you could feel his eyes on you. You realised for the first that he was your grounding now, since there was no one else in the room you knew, an intimate feeling arose at this thought and you moved a little closer to him.

“This is where I spent many a night drinking with my friends,” he said - with pride - while leading you to an empty table. You could hardly picture this smart and always-composed man being drunk, but it was a humoured picture nonetheless. He had to lean in for you to hear him over the music and talking of the people inside, and you could feel his hot minty breath sending tingles across your skin.

“I like it,” you replied. The bar was old wood, the walls were lined with all kinds of posters and signs that made up the aesthetic, accompanied by a small stage area with a landing dance floor.

“It’s my favourite, ahh-” he looked up at someone behind you and got up, “here they are.” Your heart skipped a beat, you were always nervous when meeting new people.

“SPENCE, my man!” exclaimed a tall curly haired fellow as they ‘bro-hugged’. A second, more buff and bearded man followed with “Long time no see!” He looked a little older but the two seemed to make sense as a friendship.

After they exchanged greetings, they realized your presence. Assuming they were out of earshot from a couple of feet away, the curly haired guy complimented professor Reid on his ‘date’ and made a gesture to suggest nice ‘boobs.’ You had to hide your smile when the professor went crimson and explained that you were his student, but you could feel your legs aching a little at the sight of him being flustered. He glanced at you nervously and ran a hand through his loose curls.

Finally, the men joined the table and introduced themselves, sharing stories of when they were your age. The professor seemed so different like this, so warm and relaxed, as compared to his usual formal state. You exchanged glances and a couple of smiles through the drinks and conversations, and you couldn’t push away the thought that maybe you were forming a connection. You focused on the way he sometimes licked his lips or put his fingers to his mouth, and imagined sucking on them, squeezing your thighs at the thought. Maybe you would be different after the trip, but you were snapped back to reality when the two of his friends decided to call it a night.

As the two were saying their goodbyes and making their way to the door. You checked your phone and shocked, exclaimed “It’s only ten o’clock!”

This earned a beautiful laugh from your professor. “I suppose that’s late when you’re my age. But we don’t have to leave. Wanna play a game of pool?”

Relief flooded unto you, you did not want this to be over, no one else had seen the professor like this and - despite your nervousness - you were having fun. The pub had grown fuller than when you first came in. Noticing a couple of lustful glances to your body, and to avoid being crumpled or lost between passing bodies, Spencer lightly put a hand on your lower back as he guided you in front of him over to the pool tables. The touch was barely, and so subtle, but it created a sense of dominince over you and made the area where his fingers connected with the fabric of your shirt tingle and spread to your lower belly.

He was pretty good at the game, hitting with careful preciseness and studying the table for a while before taking each of his turns. Focusing like him was a rather difficult task when you kept watching his veiny hands wrap around the pool stick and grip it tightly before he bent over to shoot. It was a little funny that he took it with such seriousness, but this forced you to do the same, and soon there was an atmosphere of strong competitiveness evident between you two. It came down the last couple of balls, when you decided to throw in a bet.

“If I win what do I get?” You confidently challenged, the alcohol had given your voice a certain assertiveness it lacked when you were sober, but this could also be a bad thing - the alcohol talking for you.

“If you win I buy the next round of drinks, if I win you pay for the round.” He said without thinking too hard about it, then returned his focus back to the game.

A couple moments later professor Reid won, and you reluctantly pulled out your wallet from your bag and made your way to the bar. The look on his face was triumph, but it had been a little exciting for the duration of the game that he considered you his equal, as competition. While you waited for the two glasses of Jack and Coke, a hand groped you from behind. You jumped out of the stranger’s grasp and tried to put as much distance between the two of you, but the line was cramped and it didn’t help much.

A sloppy looking man smirked at you, “How bout I get you a drink, darling.”

“How bout you leave her alone.” A firm voice said behind you, and you felt a warm hand sneak around your waist.

The guy looked annoyed but retreated from the bar. You turned around, a little thrown off from the interaction. “Thank you for saving me, professor.” You said, looking into his chocolate eyes staring off at the guy, now darkened with a little - anger? protectiveness? or was it dominance? Either way, it excited you.

“But I can handle myself”

He cocked his head and eyed you smugly. “Just stick closer to me from now.” He smiled with reassurance, not taking his hand off your waist, and the creep left your mind. All you wanted now was him.

You took your drinks and went back to the pool tables, all of them were occupied. Two friendly biker-looking guys offered to play in teams with you, though. You took on the challenge and played, but you were focusing on a different game. The alcohol had flushed out any thoughts or worry about the age difference or the fact that he was your professor, you were’t sure how, but you were going to get him one way or another. The game progressed slowly, and you got the opportunity to bend down in front of the professor. Behind you, you heard the biker next to him say “dude, if you don’t hit that, I will,” and felt a subtle, but not too soft landing on your ass. A yelp escaped your mouth, more out of surprise than anything, but you shot the ball in and turned around. Spencer looked embarrassed, and pulled you away a little and apologised.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, sir,” you insisted, then adding, “I kinda liked it.”

His mouth formed into an ‘O’ shaped, and with his eyebrows raised he let out a chuckle, but you could see something change in his eyes as he glanced at your lips.

You were pulled out of your daze when you heard it - the song. The song you had to dance to no matter what, so you grabbed your drink and downed the last of it. “Come on, professor,” you pulled him by his hand.

“What’s happening?” he asked, looking a little amused.

“We have to dance to this song, it’s illegal not to.”

He laughed and followed you. The world was spinning a little and the alcohol had made your body warm, you would have to get out for fresh air sooner than later or you’d start sweating. Not knowing what was going through your or the professors mind, whatever it was, you hoped it was the same thing.

Once on the dance floor, the two of you easily fit in the crowd’s rhythm. He knew the lyrics just as well as you, and you jumped and moved around each other mouthing the words. A layer of sweat had started to make his shirt cling to him, and his hair was a little dampened, god he looked good. As the chorus ended, he stopped momentarily to unbutton his shirt a little for some air. His exposed chest was a huge turn on and you moved a little closer to him, but someone pushed through the crowd and squashed you right into each other.

This was the closest you had ever been, your bodies were completely pressed against each other and his cologne was overwhelming your senses. With your hand on his chest you looked up at him, resuming to the rhythm of the song, but the two of you remained close. He made no move to push you away, he just seemed deeply in though. With a last muster of confidence, you turned around and pushed your lower half onto his and felt him harden against you. Glad for the blaring music at that moment, you moaned loudly. For a moment he did nothing, then his hands shyly placed themselves on your hips.

Maybe it was wrong, maybe you should move away and pretend it hadn’t happened, but he pulled you closer by the waist and kept you rooted to the spot. So there was a dominant part in him, this pushed away the doubts you had momentarily and you continued to rub against his hard groin. The song changed to a slower, more sexy one. He hung his head so it was next to yours, and you could feel his sticky curls tangle with your hair. His hands were on your waist, guiding you and every now and then moving higher to just below your breasts. You slid down against him slowly, then slowly pushed your butt up back against his hardness. Just the thought of what the two of you looked like at that moment could send you over the edge.

Unable to resist seeing what he looked like, you turned around and flung your arms around his neck, his hair was wet and messy, some parts sticking to his forehead, and his chest was rising and falling at a fast pace. What made you stop was how he was staring you right in the eye through his locks, like there was no one else in the room, you pondered whether or not to kiss him but it was hot, it was so hot in the room.

You pulled free from what seemed like your wildest fantasy come true and made way to the exist and out into the open air. Professor Reid had followed you outside into the dark lamp-lit street. He mirrored your out-of-breath and at-a-loss-for-words state. “Let’s get back to the hotel, shall we?” he offered after a while, not looking at you and already walking in the direction of the hotel.

You weren't sure if he meant that in the sense of sleeping together or just going back to your separate rooms, but the reality of it had sobered you up a little and you were feeling a little nervous now. He seemed.. angry? or what he frustrated? Things seemed so obvious back on the dance floor but now they seemed cloudy and unclear.

When you finally made your way back to the hotel the nervousness had almost eaten you up, and you were shaking. You and Spencer hadn’t said a word the entire way back, and the silence hadn’t helped your anxiety. He stopped suddenly and you walked into him, not realising you had already arrived in from of your hotel room.

“Do you have your key card?” he finally spoke up, his voice was coarse and full of restraint.

You nodded, turned and swiped the card to open the door. Stepping half inside you peeked around, your roommate wasn’t home yet. When you turned back to face Spencer, he was staring at you with such intensity it seemed to sear holes in you. Boldly, you took a step toward him. He immediately grabbed you by the waist and kissed you forcefully. Inside, he slammed you against the door to close it and swiped his tongue over your lips, then inside your mouth to explore. His hands were all over your body and yours tangled in his long, messy curls. When you felt his soft lips connect with the sensitive area of your neck, you moaned.

“Professor,” you squeaked. Your voice was full of need and earned a rough groan from him.

He picked you up and set you on the counter in the small kitchen. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said, looking into your eyes, grabbing the back of your neck and reattaching your lips. His words were sending a rush to your core; you needed more friction. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, his hardness now rubbing right against your beating core. He groaned and slowly grinded against you, making you want more. His tall lean figure against yours was too much to handle, it was overpowering and you couldn’t stop the soft whimpers escaping your mouth.

As his large hand massaged your breast and he continued to rock his hips against yours gradually at a faster pace, your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure.

He was in the middle of pulling off your shirt when a loud knock on the door made you freeze. He pulled away, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Who is it?” You called, your voice (and legs) shaking.

It turned out to be your roommate. The two of you swiftly fixed yourselves up and you opened the door. With the explained that you and the professor were just working on something more for tomorrow’s project session, he bid you goodnight and left hurriedly.

----

The next day you awoke not sure of how to go about things, or if you should just pretend that nothing had happened at all. But all that was not possible at all, you realised, when you saw him that morning. All the events of the previous night rushed at once into your mind and you bit your lip, it wasn’t over. He cleared his throat and shoved a hand into his pocket while addressing the group, his eye contact with you being only brief, yet strong.

During lunch break you wanted to speak with him, and found him in the cafeteria’s far end. Before coming around the corner, you stopped. He was on the phone.

“I know I know, Sweetness, I love you.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, he had a girlfriend. How could you be a wedge between his relationship, you had messed up real bad, but then again, he was the one who kissed you...

You avoided him for the rest of the day, and the next even though he asked to see you twice. Finally you received a text “Can we talk, please?” Yet you still ignored him, and even forced yourself to spend your free time with the group. It wasn’t too difficult avoiding him, but on the last day it was announced that since the group did so well, they would be celebrating at the great club in town - accompanied by the teachers of course.

You groaned. Slowly, anger had started to rise up to you. He was the one who had known he had a girlfriend, not you. He could have stopped it at any moment, but he didn’t. It was infuriating. Revenge may be the best plot. So you put on the sexiest clothes you could find, and met up with the group.

-------------

To be continued... PART TWO AVAILABLE HERE: https://skei-seems.tumblr.com/post/642815872752353280/professor-reid-part-2

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid #professor reid #professor reid smut #smut #x reader smut #professor spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #matthew gray gubler x reader

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

dancing on the edge of something new

huge thanks to alice ( @reyeslonestar ) for letting me talk this through with her at midnight when it was causing me huge trouble 🥰

five dances in tk and carlos’s life

ao3 | 2.3k | @911fluffweek day 3: getting together // dancing

TK looks over when Carlos slides off the hood of the Camaro, his hand trailing after him until he’s forced to let go. Carlos is smiling almost shyly, shifting from one foot to the other, and TK can’t help but smile back, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Carlos?” he prompts, confusion growing as no explanation is forthcoming. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I just, uh…” He bites his lip, then takes a decisive step forward and holds out a hand, cocking a brow suggestively. “Wanna dance?”

TK laughs. “Seriously?” he asks, but he’s already sitting up and placing his hand in Carlos’s, allowing him to pull him off the car and to his feet.

“Well”—Carlos shrugs, yanking TK close and smiling at the oof he makes when their chests collide—“it’s how we began, isn’t it? I figured, if we’re starting again, then it feels only right, no?”

TK stares, stuck dumb, unable to do anything but follow Carlos’s lead as his arms slip around his waist, guiding them into a gentle sway. He rests his own hands on Carlos’s chest, the realisation that he gets to do this now—gets to touch Carlos and be with him like this—hitting him all over again. To think he almost threw it all away… Well, none of that matters anymore. What matters is that they’re here, dancing in a field with no music save for the shuffle of their feet in the grass and the occasional bird or cricket, like a pair of lovesick idiots in a romcom.

And he’s never been happier.

He slides his hands up until his arms are resting loosely around Carlos’s shoulders, fingers playing with the stray curls at the nape of his neck. He stares into those familiar brown eyes, so full of warmth and light, Carlos cast in the beautiful glow of the Northern Lights above them, and TK feels an intense feeling take root in his chest. It’s not love—not yet—but it will be.

He can’t imagine not falling in love with Carlos Reyes.

ii.

The club lights strobe around them, bathing the room alternately in lurid colours and strange shadows. The place is packed, the doors practically straining on their hinges, but the only thing TK is aware of is Carlos’s body moving against his own, their movements perfectly in sync with each other.

It’s been a while since they were last about to do this, to come out and just let loose for the night. In fact, TK thinks the last time might have been when they were out with Paul what seems like a lifetime ago; so much has changed since, and TK feels like a completely different person to who he was back then.

He and Carlos have officially been together for a few months now, but it’s like the universe has been working to stop them from actually being able to enjoy it. They’ve managed to squeeze in some dates here and there, but between the shooting, the solar storm, TK’s medical leave, and weeks of opposing shifts, getting a moment to themselves has been difficult.

But now, finally, they have one. And TK is going to milk it for all it’s worth.

He turns slightly in Carlos’s grasp, his head tilting up to catch his lips in a searing kiss. Carlos grips TK’s hips tighter, pulling them flush against his own as he deepens the kiss, and TK gasps, a sharp thrill shooting down his spine.

The night stretches out blissfully in front of them, the knowledge that this isn’t just a fling that will end with the cold light of dawn making it all the sweeter. It’s still a little surreal, even now, but it also feels so damn right.

TK’s heart hammers in time with the music and he sinks into Carlos’s hold, losing himself in his heat.

iii.

It’s not that TK never felt at home at the condo. The opposite in fact; Carlos’s place had been home even before he could officially call it his, and he feels the loss of it keenly. The thing is, though, even after he’d fully moved in, it had been a struggle to think of it as theirs.

It had been home, sure, but it had also been Carlos’s place.

Carlos had found it a little funny, and it had taken several slip-ups on TK’s part and just as many gentle corrections on his for TK to get used to our dining room, and our bedroom, and our house.

And then—well. Just as he’d started to get used to it, it was all gone. Ashes. It hurt, deeply, but TK knew that it was his turn to be the one to lean on, to let Carlos be the one to set the pace. Carlos had lived there for years, after all, and what was TK’s month compared to that?

Really, anywhere that Carlos is would be home, but this—holding the keys to a house they’d picked out together, a house they’d signed the lease for together, a house they’d picked the furnishings for together—feels like coming home.

He hates that it was the condo burning down that got them to this stage, but TK can’t stop a grin from emerging on his face as he slips his key into the lock.

He finds Carlos in the kitchen, humming and shimmying to a song playing from the speakers. To his credit, TK really does try to bite back his laughter, but he can’t quite manage it, letting out a loud snort which has Carlos stopping in his tracks, flushing a deep red.

“I see the unpacking’s going well,” he says, walking over to the kitchen counter and leaning a hip against it.

“It was, actually,” Carlos defends, still blushing. “I didn’t realise you’d be back this soon.”

TK shakes his head; as adorable as Carlos’s embarrassment is, he needs to let him know he’s not making fun. “You can relax, babe. You know I always love seeing you move those hips.”

“Mmm, don’t I know it.” Carlos leans in and kisses him, lingering a moment before pulling back, a wide smirk on his face. “How about you help me finish unpacking here and we’ll see about showing you more of that hip action later?”

TK grumbles, but does as he’s told, the two of them falling into a comfortable rhythm as they work to getting their house in order. It’s ended up being the perfect blend of their different styles, which probably shouldn’t work together, but somehow do, and TK loves it here. They both do, he knows—nothing will ever replace what they lost in the fire, but being able to build a home together is beyond special.

He keeps sneaking glances at Carlos as the afternoon goes on—sue him, his boyfriend is built like a Greek god—and TK smiles when he realises Carlos has started dancing again. He probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, which makes the whole thing so much better.

TK watches for a while, then walks up to Carlos and taps him on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” he asks, gesturing to the wooden spoons he was twirling around.

There’s a brief moment of confusion, before Carlos’s eyes light up with realisation. He barely wastes a second in tossing the spoons aside (though, it’s more like a careful placement in the correct drawer) and grabs TK by the hand, sending him into a literal spin.

TK laughs, taking a moment to right himself after the sudden movement caused him to stumble inelegantly. Neither of them are in time with the music as they dance around the kitchen, carefully avoiding the boxes still scattered around, but it’s not important.

For the first time in his life, TK feels fully, completely at home. It’s not a feeling he wants to let go of.

iv.

“I think they were expecting something slower,” TK murmurs, burying a laugh in Carlos’s neck. Their guests are all wearing expressions with varying degrees of shock, and he can’t really blame them—he’s pretty sure the last thing anyone expects to hear during a first dance at a wedding is a country song. “I still can’t believe you even remember it.”

Carlos shrugs. “I still can’t believe you don’t. It is our song, after all.”

TK rolls his eyes, remembering their first conversation on this topic months ago, back when they were still sorting out all the wedding minutiae.

“‘Our’ song, babe?” he’d said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Why, because we danced to it for five minutes before leaving to get off in the bathroom?”

“Exactly,” Carlos had replied, his tone so serious that TK wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not. He’d rolled his eyes and lightly shoved at TK’s shoulder. “No, babe. Because it was the first time we danced together on the night that we met. That’s special, right, even if it did only last five minutes?”

TK hadn’t exactly been able to argue that one, and he has to admit now that it was a pretty good choice. If only to see the way Judd almost choked on his champagne in surprise when the song started.

It’s a little untraditional and, if he’s being honest, TK had never thought that one day he would be getting married in Texas on his new husband’s family ranch, with their first dance being to a ‘cowboy song’, as he’d once called it, much to Carlos’s horror. But he and Carlos have never been ones for tradition, and TK wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It’s perfect,” he admits, his eyes never leaving Carlos’s. He stops the dance, not caring that the song is still playing, and steps closer, pressing their bodies together. Everything else fades into the background as he leans up and kisses Carlos, barely moving when they break apart. “I love you, Husband.”

Carlos’s face lights up in a grin that could rival the sun in its brightness. “I love you too, Husband.”

Music is floating through the door when TK gets home, and it’s enough to alleviate the weight he’s been carrying all day. It’s not that it had been a bad shift per se (though, when your standards for a good day are ‘nobody dies’, your view tends to get a bit skewed) but it had been long and tiring, and he’d missed his family desperately.

Sometimes, he still can’t believe this is really his life. But Ana, now three, has been living with them for a year already, and TK can’t imagine their home without her anymore. She’d been a blessing, coming into their lives after years of fighting to get on adoption registers, right when they were beginning to despair of ever managing it.

They did, though, and now TK gets to come home to scenes like this.

Scenes like Ana standing on Carlos’s toes as he guides her slowly around the room in a basic dance. TK watches for a moment before getting his phone out and hitting record; he’ll be damned if he misses the opportunity to get this on film.

Carlos, having heard him enter, rolls his eyes when he sees what TK’s doing, but flashes him a quick smile before returning his focus to Ana. She hasn’t noticed TK’s entrance, her face scrunched up in deep concentration as she grips onto Carlos’s hands as tight as she possibly can.

When the music ends, Ana claps her hands and giggles. TK takes the moment to make his presence known, dropping to his knees and holding his arms out. She barrels into him, almost knocking him over, and presses her face into his chest, her tiny hands creating creases in his uniform shirt.

“Hi, sweetheart,” TK murmurs, dropping a kiss in her hair. He gently detaches her from him and manoeuvers them until she’s sitting in his lap. “Looks like you guys were having fun while I was at work.”

She nods enthusiastically. “Papa was teaching me to dance! Abuela showed me photos when I was with her and Abuelo and I wanted to be just like her!”

“Abuela got out the photo albums again, huh?”

Ana nods again. “Of her… Her…” She frowns and looks up at Carlos.

“Her china poblana dresses,” Carlos says softly, smiling as Ana grins and points at him.

TK laughs and draws his daughter into a hug, rocking them gently, his gaze going up to Carlos. “Well, from what I saw, you were dancing even better than Papa,” he says, smirking as Carlos gasps in mock offence. He looks back down at Ana, tapping on the back of her hand. “You know,” he starts, smiling, “I think I might need some dancing lessons too. Think you can teach me?”

Ana lights up and immediately gets to her feet, as if she’d been waiting for him to ask. She grabs TK’s hand and pulls him up, leading him to where Carlos must have cleared a space for them earlier. The music begins to play again and TK lets his daughter take charge, playfully sticking his tongue out at Carlos when he laughs at TK getting firmly told off for putting his foot in the wrong place.

At some point, Carlos joins the dance, the three of them stepping and bouncing around the front room. Ana’s laughter fills the house, shrieking with delight when Carlos sweeps her from the floor and wraps both her and TK in his arms. TK leans his head on his husband’s shoulder, a hand placed on their daughter’s back, and breathes out slowly, all the exhaustion from earlier forgotten.

At last, he’s home.

#911fluffweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #tuserjamie #userkimmy #tuserpaige #reyeslonestartag #tuserjenny

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thinwhitewritings · 3 years

Text

A Shot and A Story - Ashton

Summary: Based off of that one video of Ashton bringing a fan on stage to take a shot with her for her birthday - can’t stop thinking of it and I need it.

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk endeavors, lots of touching, crowds, mini makeout sesh

Rating: 18+ (no smut, a lil kiss kiss and some adult stuff but not smut)

This is unedited because I’m impatient. Enjoy!

You’d been dying to go to a concert for your birthday. Especially your twenty-first. A drink in your hand with music and friends - how could it be better? So, your friends all pitched in to get you guys floor seats to a 5 Seconds of Summer concert. You had all seen them live on your own but this would be the first time you went as a group, and it was beyond exciting, especially since they just so happened to have a show on your birthday.

The only drawback had been it wasn’t in your hometown. You had to take a small trip to get to the city where they were performing, and somehow your parents had booked a hotel for the four of you who were going, a birthday gift they’d called it. You were surprised either way. The group checked into the hotel, which was just down the street from the venue, a few bars littered along the street - which you would hit at some point. If that was before or after the show, you didn’t care. You were here with your favorite people and going to see your favorite band for the first time in a very long time - and got to get drunk all the while.

Your friends had brought goodies along, including a sash, mini shots to sneak into the venue, and a sign that said ‘She’s 21 today, get her drunk!’ They claimed it was for the bars, but one of them decided to sneak it with you to the show. You’d gone to dinner and gotten plenty of attention in the form of a free drink from a guy across from your table, and a free dessert from the restaurant. You felt on top of the world, and the night was just getting started.

You made it to the show with ease, using the opening act to get drinks from a bar in the arena, coming back to your spot just as the lights came down. Screams erupt from the crowds around you, and you felt the excitement from your chest to your toes. The band came onstage with energy, opening up the show with enough motion and lights to blind an entire highway of cars. Song by song passed, your friends making sure you continuously had a drink in your hand. About halfway through the first half of the show, your friend broke out that magical sign, holding it above all of you as you sang along and bounced and screamed. They’d just wrapped up Empty Wallets when Luke speaks up. “Hey, wait, wait - who’s birthday is it?” He asks, pulling an in-ear out and coming to the edge of the stage, pointing in your groups direction. Before you can get a word out, they begin shoving you forward, Luke laughing as they beg for him to get you a drink.

“Who told you there was alcohol up here?” Ashton remarks, now moving out from his drum set holding up a red solo cup.

“Ash, you’re very clearly holding an unmarked beverage. In a solo cup of shittin’ things.” Michael laughs.

You’re trying to pay attention, but a security guard has moved the barrier so that he can lead you to the stage ramp - and it hits you, holy shit this is actually happening. You’re thanking the buzz that’s in your veins for the lack of nerves you have once you’re on stage all of them greeting you with wide smiles and cheers. “Ok but really, to... no one’s surprise, there is alcohol up here.” Calum points to the bottle towards the back of the stage, Ashton quickly grabbing it as the others start asking you your name. One of them asks to double check that you are in fact 21 before pouring out alcohol in front of a whole ass arena. Once it’s in Luke’s hand, he’s moving to Michael’s side, leaning into him as they both assess the card. “Yep, that is definitely today.” Michael confirms.

“And that is 21 years from today - we are clear for take off everyone.” You haven’t said more than five words but you just feel blissfully happy. A hand comes up to your back and you jump a little, not expecting it, but are greeted with Ashton at your side. He’s leaning into Calum’s mic for everyone to hear. “This might look like water, but I promise everyone that this is 100% tequila.” Screams come from the crowd as he hands over the plastic cup, raising it. You take it and match him, about to take the shot before he stops. Under the immense amount of sound and projected discussion from the other bandmates, Ashton leans to your ear, his free hand taking your wrist carefully and very lightly. “Wait, let’s link arms.” He pulls back with a look of ‘you wanna?’ and you give a wide grin and a nod of your head. With ease, your arms are intertwined and you are nearly chest to chest with the drummer. A few more cries leave the massive audience you have before they all give you a hug, a few birthday wishes before dismissing you off stage.

Your friends are all shaking your arms and bouncing incessantly when you return asking how you felt, and generally freaking out. The only thing you could get out was “Please tell me you have that on video.”

. . .

After the show, you decided to run over to one more bar before you headed in for the night, really wanting to make the night well rounded and capture all of the experiences you could. Getting to the bar you realize that it’s actually more of a club. And when you get in there, you almost immediately lose your friends. You’d managed so well up until now, but you figure that you’re better off trying to find them at the bar, since there was only one of them.

So you navigate your way there, and flag down a bartender for a drink. As you finishing up your payment, you could’ve sworn you heard your name. You turn your head a few times, looking in the crowd for your friends’ faces - only to come up with one that wasn’t in your group. It’s Ashton, approaching with what seems like a crew member behind him, both of them with a glass of beer in their hand. “Hey! It’s the birthday girl!” He greets, swinging an arm open to offer another hug, which you happily take. You back up, holding your drink before leaning towards him, his head dipping to listen to you. “Where’s the other guys?” He gives a nod, a hand running through his hair.

“They were kind of exhausted, and bailed on me. They’re holed up at our table. No fun if you ask me.” He taunts, giving you a smile which you return. He moves to introduce the guy behind him, to be met with a stranger. You can’t help but laugh as he exasperatedly turns back to you. “What the hell, do I smell or something? I showered before I came here.” He jokes and you can’t stop the smile on your face.

“If it’s any consolation, my friends and I got split up the second we got here. So it’s kind of a miracle that you managed to have him around that long.” Ashton laughs at your words, and you find a hand on your back again as he leans in.

“He probably went to our table. Do you wanna go check with me?” You give a nod once he’s asked, and he grins, hand unmoving from your back. He proceeds to guide you to the table he speaks of, a few more familiar faces which all light up at the sight of you. A few utterances of your name come through again, greeting you happily.

You sit with the group, meeting Sierra and Crystal while you were there, finding yourself somehow completely comfortable with this group. Afterall, you practically grew up with these guys, even if you’d never met them until tonight. A few rounds go by, and you’re finally starting to think about calling it a night. You’re looking at your phone, seeing that your friends have all said to just meet at the hotel, as they’re not having any luck finding each other, let alone you. You try another text - seeing as this happened because you couldn’t get any messages through - and hope that if any of them go through it was that one. That you were safe and had plenty of stories to tell. You’d been chugging water after the third round, telling Ashton that you’d needed to head home tomorrow and wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be sick for the drive, which he then cut you off in response. He however, had still been drinking. So as you lean into him to speak, his arm wraps around you, staying planted as you speak. “Do you know where the bathroom is?” You ask and he nods, the hand holding his drink points in the general direction.

“Do you want me to walk you over there?” He questions, and you look at him, seeing his features in the very dim neon lights. His hand feels firm, but his thumb is slowly tracing an up and down line into your skin, and you’re trying your best to soak it in. This had to be a dream. The whole time you’d been at the table, his hand had jumped around, on the booth back just above your shoulders, on your thigh, pushing hair out of your eyes - any way he could linger on you he had. Which is why you let him escort you to the bathroom.

The walk over was pretty uneventful, aside from Ashton spilling the rest of his drink due to someone elbowing his glass. He was annoyed by this, but didn’t let it show in his expressions. In the hallway of the restroom, it’s rather dark, give for the slight light shining through the cracks of the closed bathroom door. You’d turned to Ashton to tell him he could go back to the table, but he’d thrown his beer glass away, and was facing you fully. The hand that had been in yours, now slinks up to your waist, the other matching it. He can see you’re about to say something and leans to your ear to speak. “What is it beautiful?”

Suddenly, you don’t want him to go back to the table. When you see his face again, his forehead is nearly on yours, your breath hitching. “N-Nothing. I just...” You shake your head minutely, being careful not to move too much in the crowded space. Your eyes meet as music blasts around you, not letting you be able to think. His face suddenly is encased in light as the bathroom door swings open. His eyes shift to the door and he looks back to you. “Bathroom’s free.” He points out, and in the boldest move you’ve ever made, you grab his hand on your waist and pull him into the bathroom.

Ashton shuts the door and locks it with a click, being quick to move back to where you had been positioned before, but this time, takes no time to cup your face and pull your lips to his. Your eyes shut as your own hands move to gently hold the bottom of his arms, as his tongue dips along your bottom lip. Hands move from your face to the back of your neck, your energies moving so simultaneously. You finally pull back from what seems like forever to someone banging on the door. The two of you had both looked to the door and you laugh. “Let me use the restroom, and then we can go back.” You offer, slowly pulling away to move to the stall, and Ashton’s head tilts, looking to your backside.

“And by back, you mean my hotel room, right?”

So much for your parent’s hotel room ‘gift’.

#ashton irwin x reader #ashton x reader #5 seconds of summer x reader #ai.

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