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kingofsummer93 · 1 year

Note

Prompts 9 and/or 64 for Elucien pls!

also, I think 10 would definitely a tired, over it, exasperated Lucien would say 😂

Chaotic Writing Prompts

9- Get in the fucking blanket fort / 64-Pay attention to me, I’m cute and needy.

For @sjmromanceweek Day 2 : Love Language

Elain and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.7K

read it on Ao3

As far as Valentine's Day celebrations went, this one was on its way to becoming the worst in Elain’s entire life. She would have gladly relived her awkward first kiss at the 9th grade winter formal over this hellish day.

She was tired, she was hungry, she was more than a little cranky, and she was driving home through the worst blizzard of the year. And to top it all off, her husband was currently out of town on a business trip, during what should have been their first Valentines Day as a married couple.

It wasn’t his fault, of course. Lucien had seriously suggested feigning an illness to get out of it, and had only gone after Elain had practically shoved him into the Uber.

Still, she knew it was just a silly holiday, but she couldn’t help it- she loved Valentine’s Day. She loved the heart-shaped candies, and the decorations, and dinners in candle-lit restaurants. Or maybe she simply loved love, and any excuse to celebrate it. Lucien had promised they would celebrate when he got back, but she couldn’t help her disappointment.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do Galentine’s Day?” Vassa’s voice was barely discernible over the sound of the heat blasting in her car. “I can cancel our dinner reservation. You know how much Jurian hates Valentine’s Day anyway.”

Elain sighed, for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I love you for suggesting it but no. I had a bad day and I’m just being dramatic.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, hun, but I’m going to stab my coworker to death and eat her heart for lunch sounds like a little more than a bad day.”

“That bitch probably doesn’t even have a heart anyway,” Elain mumbled darkly.

Vassa cackled, her laughter punctuated by the unmistakable sound of a bottle of wine opening in the background.

Wine. That was what she needed. Wine and a bubble bath, followed by a big bowl of popcorn and more wine.

“I”m fine,” she said again, as much to convince herself as Vassa. “I’m just going to put on some sweats, watch a movie and drown my sorrows in wine. Lucien said he’d facetime me if his meetings ended early, anyway.”

She didn’t add that Lucien hadn’t sounded convinced that he could make this happen, considering he was currently in a different time zone and his work days had been ending at 10 pm.

“Throw in a gin and tonic for good measure. And maybe a green vegetable.”

“Yes mom!”

“And Elain- please don’t stab anyone tonight! Although, Valentine’s Day Stabber does have a ring to it…”

Elain let out a puff of laughter, some of the day’s tension easing from her shoulders. “I promise no stabbing. Although I make no promises on strangulation.”

“That’s my girl. Love you.”

“Love you too. Go torture Jurian with lots of lovey-dovey stuff.”

“Hey! I heard-”

Vassa’s cackles were cut off as her friend promptly disconnected, and Elain could only laugh again as she pictured the look of exaggerated affront that would currently be on Jurian’s face.

Her briefly heightened spirits quickly fell, however, as she turned into her driveway and her little Honda skidded over the snow already accumulated there. She needed a new car. And a house with a garage.

Or maybe she just wanted her husband to be waiting for her inside, ready to wrap her in a bear hug and listen patiently to her whine about her shitty day.

No mopping. It’s just a stupid holiday, it doesn’t mean anything.

Her phone pinged, as if mocking her.

Heading into the afternoon conference. It’s BOILING hot here. Hope you’re not getting buried in snow! Shovel is in the shed if you need it.

Elain grumbled all the way to her front door, cursing both her husband and the snow sinking into her boots and soaking through her socks. She peeled her off her wet parka and boots and walked upstairs to her bedroom, deciding her priority number one was putting on her oldest, comfiest sweats. Her bedroom door was half open, and once glance inside made her stop dead in her tracks.

Somebody was in her house.

Not only was somebody in her house, but somebody had turned her bedroom into a giant blanket fort. Sheets and blankets were draped over the bed, looping over the ceiling fan to create a makeshift tent. String lights were strung over the headboard, illuminating the inside of the blanket fort.

Enough so that she could see the outline of someone lying on her bed.

Elain gasped and froze in shock, her heart jumping into her throat. She stood there for another beat, heart racing, as she mentally went through the list of people with a key to her house.

Lucien, who had just gone into a conference in California, thousands of miles away.

Vassa, who she had just spoken to on the phone.

And her sisters, who she knew for a fact were both occupied with their respective boyfriends tonight.

Elain turned and ran, practically tripping down the stairs as she went. Just as she was diving for her cell phone loud footsteps sounded overhead.

For one wild, hysterical moment she considered running to the kitchen and grabbing her biggest chef’s knife.

Valentine’s Day Stabber; Woman Stabs Intruder with Kitchen Knife!

The footsteps had started down the stairs. Elain clutched her cell phone in her hand, fingers poised over the emergency call button, and yanked her front door open.

“Love? Where are you going?”

The male voice trickling down the staircase was deep and rumbling, tinged with humor.

It was also very, very familiar.

Elain whirled on the spot, her heart still racing with adrenaline, and came face to face with the sight of her husband grinning at her. His white shirt was rumpled, his long red hair falling out of a messy bun, his lips curved into an infuriatingly playful grin.

“Lucien!” Elain clapped a hand to her chest, willing her racing pulse to slow down. “God! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry!” He held up his palms, grin widening, not even looking a little bit sorry. The little shit.

“It’s not funny! I thought you were an intruder! I almost went to the kitchen to grab a knife!”

Lucien was trying not to laugh now, his chest heaving as he suppressed his chuckles. Elain had a sudden urge to throttle him. Maybe she hadn’t been wrong about the strangulation thing.

“Not the Imarku! That was a wedding gift!” He was full-on laughing now, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Elain growled in frustration and ran up the stairs, unsure if she wanted to tackle him and kiss him or tackle him and punch him. Before she could make up her mind Lucien laughed again and bounded up the stairs two at a time, disappearing into their bedroom.

“Come back here you little shit!”

“I can’t believe you thought an intruder had made you a blanket fort!”

“I will murder you!”

Elain reached the top of the stairs just in time to see Lucien dive-bomb into the mass of sheets and blankets over their bed.

“Get in the blanket fort!”

“No. I’m mad at you.” She crossed her arms over her chest for emphasis, even though he couldn’t see her.

“Get in the fucking blanket fort!”

“No!”

“Come pay attention to me, I’m cute and needy.” Lucien stuck his head out of the fort, pouting at her. His hair was even more mussed, his eyes still shining with delight. Damn him. Damn him and his stupidly beautiful face.

In three rapid steps Elain had crossed the room and launched herself into his arms, tackling him backwards onto the bed.

“I’m cute and needy,” she whined, face pressed against his chest. His familiar spicy, musky scent filled her nostrils. “And I had a shit day and I missed you.”

Lucien’s arms tightened around her as he buried his face in her face. “I missed you too, my love. So much.”

There was nothing but sincerity in his voice now, and all of Elain’s anger melted away. She lifted her hair and peered around the blanket fort, giggling as she took in the sight. The bed was piled high with pillows and cushions, forming a little nest underneath the canopy of sheets and blankets. The string lights draped over the headboard gave the space a cozy, warm glow. A laptop was plugged in and opened to the Netflix romantic comedy section, and next to it sat a bottle of wine, a box of chocolates, and a large bowl of buttered popcorn.

Lucien smiled sheepishly. “The conference ended a day early and I thought it would be fun to surprise you. I’m sorry I scared you.”

Elain squeezed him tighter, burying her face against him again. “I’m sorry I almost stabbed you with our Imarku.”

Lucien’s laugh vibrated against her cheek. He dipped a finger under her chin and Elain angled her face up for a kiss, sighing at the familiar feel of his lips against hers.

“Hi,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against her lips.

“Hi.” She giggled again as he nuzzled her nose. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too. Tell me all about your shitty day.”

“It’s not a shitty day anymore. Now it’s a great day.”

“Indeed. The day you almost stabbed an intruder for making you a blanket fort.”

Elain punched him in the shoulder, shaking her head at him.

“We can go out for dinner, if you’d rather,” Lucien added. “But the weather is so bad I thought it’d be fun to have a cozy night in.”

“No!” Elain exclaimed, reaching for a handful of popcorn. “I love my blanket fort. We should leave it like this. Although…”

“Yes?” Lucien asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Elain glanced at his rumpled dress shirt, then at her own wrinkled top, feeling her strapless bra digging into her skin.

“Can we change into sweats?”

Lucien grinned again, wickedly this time. “Yes, after.”

Elain bit her lip. She knew that grin. “After what?” she asked, blinking up at him innocently.

She yelped as Lucien smoothly flipped them so he hovered over her. “After you pay attention to me. I’m cute and needy, remember?”

“You’re also an idiot.”

“Ahh, yes, but you love me.”

Elain hummed noncommittally.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” Lucien whispered.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, you big dummy.”

#sjmromanceweek2023 #elucien #elucien fanfic #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

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fandom-imagines-stories · 2 years

Text

Sound of Silence

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 2472

Summary: Matt tries to find his pregnant wife when half the world seems to have disappeared.

Notes: Okay, so I’ve seen this idea multiple places and I really thought it would make a good imagine. I’m not totally sure who the first person to post this was, so if you guys could tag them in the comments or something that’d be great. I’ve also not seen the end of Daredevil, so this is pretty much not going to deal with anything from the series.

More Matt Imagines: HERE

Everything was perfectly normal. Well, as normal as it could be after yet another alien attack in the city. With the ‘Big Boys’ taking them on, Matt figured everything would be resolved. After all, despite damages, they saved New York before. They could do it again. Invaders from space were little above Daredevil’s jurisdiction- not that he actually had any.

“Do you think they’d ever put aliens on trial?” Foggy asked, looking at Karen over his glass. She giggled.

“Don’t you think it’s a little early to be drinking?”

“Hey, if the world is really ending this time, then I think it is perfectly normal for all of us to drown our sorrows in Matt’s cheap liquor.”

Matt pretended to look offended. “You’re more than welcome to go get your own, you know.” He poured himself a glass. “Besides, I’m not the one that got this one. Y/N did.” Not that she’d be drinking it any time soon.

“Ah, and where is the lovely Mrs. Murdock today?” Foggy glanced around the apartment.

“Visiting her mother,” Matt said.

Everyone grimaced in unison.

Foggy looked down at his glass. “She’s going to need this more than I do.”

Matt smiled to himself. Until you got home, he was the only one in the room who knew why his wife would only be drinking water. It was the reason he’d invited Foggy and Karen over. As soon as you finished telling your mother, the two of you would be asking them to be the godparents. Sure, they weren’t Catholic, but Matt had a feeling that Father Lantom would overlook it.

“Okay, so back to my question- if there’s another ‘the sky is falling’ situation, do you think they’d put the space sons of bitches on trial?” Foggy said. His eyes widened. “Do you think people would have to defend them?”

“I think it’s safe to say we wouldn’t have to worry about something like that.” Matt chuckled.

Foggy shrugged and the three of them laughed. Matt had tried not to think of the new attacks in the city. The world was dark enough without galactic threats clouding the sky. He had to be strong. Especially now.

Foggy raised his glass, the drink sloshing against the glass. Karen did the same.

“A toast,” Foggy beamed, “to making it through another day.”

“Cheers,” Karen said.

Matt just laughed and moved his glass to connect with theirs. But there was no clink. His glass hit nothing but empty air. It wasn’t until the other two glasses shattered against the table that he realized he couldn't hear their heartbeats anymore.

“Foggy?” His voice trembled. “Karen?” He reached out his shaking hand, finding nothing but a soft movement of air- like someone taking a final breath. “T-this is funny. Foggy, this isn’t funny. Karen!”

For a painfully long moment, there was nothing but dreadful silence. Everything was still. Dead. Then came the noise. Crashing, sirens, but most of all screams. It filled his head until it was unbearable. He stumbled to the window, feeling a crushing emptiness. Maybe Foggy was right. The world was ending.

“You should eat. You look like you haven’t eaten.” Your mother scolded. She set a plate of rolls in front of you and went to pour you a glass of wine.

“I’m fine, mom.” You slid the glass away.

“You’d eat better if the two of you were making any money.” She muttered.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already fighting the headache you knew would come from this visit. Ever since you and Matt got married, she took a special- and critical- interest in the kind of cases Matt took.

“I didn’t come here to talk to you about that.” You sighed, trying to hide the frustration in your voice.

“All I’m saying is that, should you reconsider going to a bigger firm, maybe a corporate one-”

“Mother.” You exasperated.

“What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Finally, she was quiet. She simply grinned a shocked grin and threw her arms around you. You were both beaming when you pulled apart and she started rambling about all of the people she needed to call.

“I’m going to be a grandmother!” She cried. “Oh, you and Matt will have to come over for dinner and I’ll cook you a real meal and-”

“Phone calls, mom. You said you were going to make phone calls.” You said before she could passive-aggressively nag you anymore. “Here, you can use mine.” You began to hand her your cell phone.

“Yes, you’re right, I have to…” She didn’t get to finish. Her eyes locked with yours in a moment of confused panic before her body started to change. Piece by piece, it was as if she was a burning piece of paper and the breeze was carrying the ash away until there was nothing left. Your phone fell to the floor, the screen cracking and splitting into dozens of pieces.

You stood, frozen with terror. A horrified sob caught in your throat and you had to force yourself to keep standing as your knees began to buckle. You blinked. Nothing. You pinched your arm. Nothing.

“M-Mom.” You choked out. This can’t be happening.

You managed to walk over to the window, hoping to get some air and that this was all just a result of your mother’s cheap perfume and hormones. But as you looked out, you saw the chaos. Whatever just happened to your mother had happened to other people. Cars crashed into each other. Mothers screamed as their children vanished. Police sirens roared from what seemed like every corner.

Your hand fell to your stomach and you started to hyperventilate. Your mind could only form a single, screaming clear thought.

“Matt.”

Matt plowed through the chaos, trying to dodge every panicked civilian running past him on the way to your mother’s apartment. The automated voice of your voicemail ran through his head.

“This is Y/N Murdock. Please leave a message.”

He’d called three times. Nothing.

The building of your mother’s apartment was rampant with terror. People ran in and out, some shouted down from the windows, others just sat alone in their apartments and cried. Even through the walls, he could hear their heartbreak. Still, as hard as he focused, he couldn’t hear you.

He climbed the stairs two at a time until he reached the third floor. The hallway was just as alive with panic as the rest of the building. People darted back and forth between rooms. He felt the numbers on the walls until he reached your mother’s apartment. The door was still, the room inside quiet. He clutched the doorknob with a shaking hand and found it unlocked. The door swung open with an ominous creak.

“Y/N?” He called into the apartment. No response. He stepped inside. “Y/N, sweetheart, please. Please please be here. Something is going on. Please be here.” He felt around the room desperately, hoping that he would feel your skin, hear your voice, even just your heartbeat. He stepped on something, the glass cracking beneath his foot.

Matt’s heart cracked along with it. He crouched down, recognizing your phone in his hand. His knees hit the floor.

None of this made any sense. People don’t just vanish. Half of the hearts in New York don’t just stop beating. If he was one of those big-time heroes, maybe he would know what had happened, but he wasn’t. He was here, living with the consequences again. Right when his life finally seemed to even start making sense.

Oh, God.

The baby.

Matt’s stomach lurched. Another crack shot through his heart. He screamed. Tears burned on his cheeks before he could stop them. He clutched your phone in his hand and hurled it at the wall. Any remaining glass shattered completely.

“What’s happening?” He howled. His sobs made his words sound like a wounded animal. Desperate cries for help.

He thought of praying. Praying for him to be wrong. Praying for you to be here. Praying that whatever the hell had happened hadn’t happened to you. But all he could hear were the screams of the people outside. He knew that, if God really was up there, he wasn’t listening.

The apartment seemed to haunt him. As he opened the door with a shaking hand, he tried to ignore the tricks his mind was playing on him. He could still hear the dual heartbeats of you and the baby. He could still feel you near him. Hell, he could even hear your voice. But it couldn’t be real. You were gone. Whatever had happened to Karen and Foggy had happened to you.

Your heart soared when you saw him walk in the door. You called out his name through sobs, but his expression didn’t change. The heartbreak on his face only deepened. It took you a moment to understand why he was responding like this, but once you did, you started to approach him slowly.

He didn’t realize you were really there.

“Matty,” You said. You took slow steps towards him. His head tilted to the side, hearing your footsteps.

“Maybe I’m just going crazy.” He muttered to himself. You took another step.

“Baby, I’m here. I didn’t vanish. I’m right here. I’m okay.”

“Y/N…” His voice was without hope. He said your name like he was praying. Finally, you put your hands on either side of his face.

“I’m right here.” You cried. “I’m here. Matty, I thought you were-” Your words cut off with another sob. Realization and relief washed over your husband’s face. Matt didn’t say a word. He just threw his arms around you, crying into the crook of your neck. He clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him from disappearing just like everyone else.

“Karen and Foggy… I went to your mother’s apartment. Your phone… I was convinced that you were- oh thank God.” He choked. You held him tighter, your whole body trembling with a combination of relief and terror.

The two of you must have stayed like that for hours. Holding each other while the world fell apart around you. For a short time, all that mattered was that Matt was here. He was in your arms and kissing your face. He muttered a few more prayers- if he didn’t maybe you’d still disappear.

Once you finally broke apart, the panic resurfaced in your chest. Karen and Foggy. Your mother. What the hell happened? Were they dead? Where else was this happening? Was it just New York? Was it the whole world?

All of the questions built up into one that actually formed on your lips. You curled up beside Matt on the floor, laying your head on his chest and you both leaned on the couch.

“What are we supposed to do now?”

Matt tucked your head under his chin. “We survive.”

Five Years Later

A moment of panic settled into his chest. He listened to the bustle of people around him. A heaviness hung in the air- the same weight that had lingered for the past five years. It made it hard to focus.

“Jackie!” He called into the crowd. He listened again and heard it. Laughter. Playful barks and a clinking collar. He let out a sigh of relief and followed the sound of his daughter’s laugh.

She’d wandered off to pet a dog- whose owner was happy to stop her jog and let Jackie pet him. When Matt found them, the two continued their run, much to the dismay of the young girl.

“Jackie Karen Murdock, how many times have I told you to stay with me when we’re walking?” He scolded, but his tone was light. Her small hand found his and her voice matched a pout.

“Sorry, daddy.”

He smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Come on. Mom and Percy will be getting back soon.”

“Okay!” She squealed and began pulling him down the sidewalk. Matt laughed and did his best to keep up with her. By the time they’d reached the apartment building, you were coming down the sidewalk from the other direction, having just brought your son back from a doctor’s appointment.

“Just a little cold. Nothing to worry about,” You said, joining your husband and daughter at the front steps.

“That’s great,” Matt beamed. When you told him you thought Percy needed to go to the doctor, his brain naturally jumped to the worst scenario. The baby in your arms reached out his tiny fists to his father. Matt took him from you and you couldn’t help but marvel at him.

The way he’d fought and worked to keep the city safe these past few years and still was able to have moments like this- moments of peace- was something you admired. Somedays you worried you’d forgotten what it felt like to not worry.

“Can I go play now?” Jackie whined, tugging on your pant leg. “Daddy got me a new toy.”

You shot your husband a look. He shrugged.

“I caved.”

You shook your head and laughed. “Alright, go on upstairs. We’ll be there in a second.” She took your keys and the bag from Matt’s hand and bolted away. She knew her way around the building- probably a little better than you’d like. It’d make her sneaking around when she’s older a lot harder to catch. Then again, with Matt that probably won’t be an issue. The thought made you snicker.

“What?” Matt smiled. You kissed him on the cheek.

“Nothing.” Part of you was just happy that there was a future to think about. For so many… You tried not to dwell on it.

Just as you moved to follow Jackie, Matt froze. His expression darkened and a worried tone took over his voice.

“Something’s happening.”

A dark form seemed to overtake the air, like a solid, ashy mist. Then… people. Dozens of people appeared around you where there was nothing before. The recognition clicked in your mind. This was how everyone disappeared.

They were coming back.

Matt pulled you aside, still holding Percy close to his chest. He winced at the sudden influx of noise and panic flooding his head. Confusing shouts and cries filled the air. Percy’s wails joined and you did your best to calm him down.

Through everything, Matt heard the sound of small, quick footsteps running back down the stairs. He grabbed your hand.

“Jackie,” He said. Both of you hurried into the building, catching her at the top of the stairs. She didn’t seem scared, however. She seemed excited.

“There are people in the living room.” She giggled. “They said they’re your friends. Can they be my friends too?”

You felt Matt’s grip on your hand tighten and the two of you ran up to the apartment.

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil imagines #avengers infinity war #the blip #foggy nelson #karen page #matt murdock #daredevil #charlie cox #sad

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

All Secrets Come Out In Good Time

A Bruce Wayne x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: I wrote this a long ass time ago, but never posted it to Tumblr, so here's an actual new story! Enjoy! -Thorne

She wondered what life would’ve been like for her had she never signed her contract with Wayne Enterprises. Maybe living retired and off the savings of her modeling career, sipping margaritas at the local beach bar without a care in the world? She huffed as she poured another glass of wine thinking, probably not sitting on my couch with a broken heart. The feelings still lingered, churning slowly into bitterness that made her feel ashamed.

She knew how busy his life was, especially with his nightly activities. But somewhere deep down, she wanted him to give her the real reason behind their departure, instead of the “It’s not you, it’s me” bullshit line he’d given her. Still, the reality of it was thrown in her face, and here she was on her couch, drowning her sorrows in wine he’d bought her.

Her mind lingered on the memories of them, and with those memories, came the questions. Did he actually love her? Did he love her the way she loved him? Did any of the time they shared in those two years mean anything? It did to her—she loved him. Hell, she loved his children like they were her own too.

Something warm fell on her hand and she looked down, seeing a droplet of water resting on the back of it. She blinked and her vision blurred as more tears began to fall from her eyes. Her hands moved to her face, wiping furiously, but no matter how many times she did, they kept falling, and she found herself falling deeper into heartbreak.

***Two Years Earlier***

She stepped into the ballroom, taking note of the eyes that immediately found her; she paid them no mind as she made her way deeper into the crowds, occasionally greeting her fellow models and higher-ups. The crowd seemed to part for her as she passed, making her feel like royalty, and she flashed them the million-watt smile she had perfected so long ago.

A few moments later, a warm hand brushed her arm and she looked up, seeing her employer smiling at her; she gave him one in return. “It’s good to see you, (Y/N). You look gorgeous.”

She hummed, feeling her cheeks warm at the compliment he’d given her. “Thank you, Mister Wayne.” She ran a hand down the silk fabric of the shimmering, black gown. “The dress is the new one the company has been designing.”

He eyed her dress and quipped, “Then it’s good that we had you model it for us.” He leaned in, his smile turning flirtatious. “You look absolutely beautiful in it.”

(Y/N) looked away, a bashful smile crossing her lips. “Mister Wayne, you’re just flattering me.”

He hummed, a small chuckle passing from him. “Maybe…is it working?”

She glanced back at him and after a second, she nodded. “It is.”

“Wonderful.” He motioned to her. “May I escort you around? I didn’t see you come in with anyone.”

(Y/N) nodded, watching as his arm fit around her waist, and she felt his hand brush her hip. They walked around, greeting the other socialites, when a pair made their presence known in front of them.

“Mister Wayne! Sir! It’s good to see you at the party.”

(Y/N) could feel his hand tense ever-so-slightly, and she saw him flash a fake smile. “Well Henry, this is my party.” The man laughed, and his wife smiled at (Y/N); she could feel the loathing from her spot.

“You’re that new model that just signed with Mister Wayne, aren’t you, Miss…”

She bit the inside of her cheek and smiled as she nodded. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N). And yes, I am.”

The woman eyed her before quipping humorlessly, “I didn’t know they let…older women model in the company.”

The insult practically smacked (Y/N) across the face and before she could stop it, she bit out, “And I didn’t know they let bitter old harpies with pathetic grudges into parties that were meant for companies that weren’t in bankruptcy.”

The woman’s jaw went slack at her response, and the man beside her stepped forward. “How dare you speak to my wife like that?! How dare you assume our company is in debt?!”

(Y/N) simply blinked as she stared at him. “Because it is, Mister Brighton.” She gathered her thoughts. “Your company has lost more in the past six months than it has since it’s decline in the early nineties. Your best bet would be to try and get Mister Wayne to make a deal that would save your company.”

She glowered at the older couple, her voice hardening as she declared, “Don’t let my age fool you. I might be older than many of the models Wayne Enterprises hires, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a brain. I’ll have you know I graduated valedictorian at my high school and my university. I’ve modeled all my life. Wayne Enterprises started a line for women in my age group and I was offered a job. Do I need to explain anything else to you? Or have your behaviors been apparent enough?”

The two of them stuttered out responses before they excused themselves, shuffling away as fast as they could. (Y/N) watched them as they left, then her eyes moved to the man still beside her.

Her eyes widened in shock as she realized he was still there. “Oh my. You—I—oh dear.” She blinked as she tried to apologize to him. “I am so sorry, Mister Wayne. I—I just got—”

“Carried away in the absolute decimation of someone who insulted you?” She paused at his words, taking in the sight of the grin working its way on his face. “I have to say, seeing you shove that back in their face was…pretty entertaining(Y/N).”

She huffed a laugh at his words, shaking her head. “You’re something else, Mister Wayne.”

He grinned, tightening his grip on her waist. “I find I’m just enough for what’s needed.”

“Uh huh,” she doubted with an arched brow.

He winked. “I am.”

“I’ll take your word for it then.” She replied jokingly.

***A Few Months Later***

“You know, I never actually expected you to fly us to the Swiss Alps.” She turned around from the large window, watching as he reclined on the couch.

“And why didn’t you expect me to?”

She shrugged as she walked around the couch, leaning over the back, and wrapping her arms around his neck; she rested her chin on his shoulder and turned her face to him. “Dunno…just kinda mentioned it offhandedly. I never thought you’d take me so seriously, Bruce.”

He smiled at her response, turning his head so they were face to face. “I take everythingseriously, (Y/N).”

She nodded. “That you do.” (Y/N) leaned forward, pressing her lips to his lightly, then she rested her forehead against his. They stared at one another until she whispered, “I love you.”

He blinked, obviously shocked at her open admittance, but he soon recovered, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek as he replied, “I love you too, (Y/N).” She smiled at him, then pressed her face into his neck; he chuckled at her. “Embarrassed?”

“Oh,shut up…it’s not every day you tell the man you love that you love him, and he does the same.”

There was a moment of silence, then she felt her body being tugged, and she realized he was pulling her over the side of the couch. She tumbled into his lap, and his arms wound around her waist, pulling her close. (Y/N) relaxed against him, then she felt his lips press light kisses into her neck. She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder, and she felt his lips stop.

As they moved away, he asked, “Are you alright, (Y/N)?”

She turned and looked at him, feeling her heart flutter in her chest. “I’m just really glad that you and I are here…together.”

Bruce smiled down at her, cupping her cheek. “Me too.”

***A Year Later***

She opened the door, seeing him stand on the other side; she smiled at him and gestured him in. “You know, when I gave you the key, Bruce, I meant for you to use it.” She expected a laugh from him, but none came, and she tipped her head to the side. “Are you alright? You look tense.”

He nodded, taking off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack. “I’m fine…just thinking, (Y/N).”

“Is it anything you want to talk about?”

He paused, meeting her eyes, then they drifted to the table, and he saw the dinner she’d prepared for them. “After dinner.”

(Y/N) wanted to keep the conversation, but she decided against it, and nodded. “Alright then.” She wrapped an arm around his and led him into the kitchen. “Since you called on short notice, I assumed you had something important to tell me, so…” She motioned to the food. “I made your favorite.”

A small smile graced his lips and he looked at her. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She nodded, grabbing the bottle of wine as she watched him sit. “Of course, Bruce. I love to spoil you.”

***

The dinner went smoothly, and they each told the other about their day, then moved the conversation into the living room. (Y/N) sat on the couch beside him, resting her wine glass on her thigh as she watched him.

She hummed at his silence. “Kinda quiet over there…are you sure everything’s alright?”

He looked at his hands, then let out a sigh, and (Y/N) held her breath, waiting for him to finally tell her the secret she’d known for the longest time. It had been by chance that she’d learned his secret identity, and everyone would say blame it on Dick, who saw her and immediately said, “Hey it’s mom!”. Quite the running joke between his kids, who had essentially bonded with her over the year and a half that Bruce and she had been dating. She made them promise not to tell Bruce about her knowing, her telling them “It’s not our secret to tell, it’s his. And I need to hear it from him when he’s ready.”.

(Y/N) thought back to that time, and reached out a hand, taking his gently as she murmured, “Whatever you need to tell me, I’m listening Bruce. And I won’t judge you.”

He sighed once more, pulling his hand away and reaching into his pocket; he pulled something out and held it out, saying, “I think I should give this back to you.”

(Y/N) eyes moved to the item in his hand, and she felt her breath leave her lungs at the sight of the silver key in between his fingers. “I…I don’t understand?”

He shut his mouth, putting the key on the coffee table beside them as he said, “It’s not anything you’ve done, (Y/N). I just think we need to see other people.”

She blinked, not understanding where it was coming from. “But I…I thought…” (Y/N) couldn’t form the words she needed to tell him, and he rose from the couch.

“I think I should go.”

She jumped up, following him. “You can’t just leave, Bruce! You can’t just leave it like this!”

He stopped as he grabbed his jacket, turning to her. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your sorry! I want your real reason!”

“I gave you—”

She cut him off, scoffing, “Oh, that’s a load of bullshit and we bothknow it!” (Y/N) stepped forward, winding her hands in his shirt. “We’ve been dating for almost two years. You can’t look at me and tell me that we need to see other people. There’s something going on.”

“Just talk to me. Talk to me, Bruce,” she pled with him.

His hands rose from his side and he gently took hers in his, removing them from his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

She blinked, too stunned to even say a word as he apologized once more and left her standing in the entrance of her apartment, alone and heartbroken.

***Present***

He pulled off the cowl and sank into the chair in front of the Batcomputer; a bottle of water appeared in his view and he took it, looking up at Alfred. “Thanks Alfred.”

The butler nodded, handing out the other bottles to everyone around them. A joke between them made them laugh, and he watched them, a small smile crossing his lips.

He watched Jason nudge Dick and nod to him. “Is hell freezing over, or is the old man actually smiling at us?” The others looked over and he watched eyebrows raise in slight surprise.

It irked him, and he quipped, “Just because I don’t smile often doesn’t mean I can’t smile.”

“Are you sure? Kinda looks like your face is cracking over there, B.”

Bruce rolled his eyes at Dick’s comment, and he stood up, stretching his arms over his head as he made his way to the lockers. They followed, and each began peeling off their suits and pulling on after clothes.

“You know what would be good right now?” They looked at Jason who was sitting on the bench. “(Y/N)’s apple pie and homemade sea salt vanilla ice-cream.”

They groaned at his words and Dick looked over at Bruce, who wore a clouded expression. “We never did get the real reason why you ended things with her.” He paused, looking at his brothers. “We liked her. Even Damian did.”

Damian nodded at this and turned to Bruce. “Why did you leave her, father? She was the only tolerable woman you’ve ever brought to the manor.”

Jason reached over and riffled his youngest brother’s hair. “That’s because she didn’t take any of your shit two-bit. She acted like a mom when it came to you.” Damian batted Jason’s hand away, glaring at him; Jason turned to Bruce. “Answer the question, old man. Why’d you run (Y/N) off?”

Bruce sighed, sitting down on the bench, knowing he wasn’t getting out of it; he motioned around him. “Look at what we do. I couldn’t tell her about this. She would’ve run for the hills had I told her.”

Dick raised an eyebrow at him. “So, your choice was to break up with her to keep her sane and safe?” Bruce nodded.

Tim stepped forward, his gaze shifting between the others before turning to back to his father. “Bruce, I don’t know if you know this…but (Y/N) already knows what we do.”

Bruce’s eyes went wide, and he looked up at Tim in shock. “What?”

Tim nodded, motioning to Dick. “Dick accidently called her ‘mom’ one night when we saw her, and she put two and two together.”

Bruce blinked at the revelation; he’d never in a million years assume that she’d learned their secret early. “She…never said anything…”

“That’s because she was waiting for you to tell her,” Jason remarked with a smart-ass glare.

“She…was?”

The others stared expectingly at him and Damian said, “She told us that it was your right to tell her and yours alone.” He paused, looking at him. “You should go to her and apologize.”

Bruce stared at them before nodding and rising from his seat. “I probably should.”

They grinned, following him out when a slightly unnerved Alfred came to them. “Master Bruce…you need to come at once.”

“What’s wrong?”

Alfred motioned up the stairs. “It’s Miss (Y/N). She’s here…and she’s…inebriated.”

Jason barked a laugh, but quickly shut his mouth at the feeling of Dick’s elbow in his side, and they watched Bruce run up the steps to her. They followed, of course, and stuck their heads out of the doorway to see the conversation because they were nosey as hell—though it’s not like they didn’t learn that from their father. Bruce walked over to her, holding out his hands to try and balance her as she wobbled.

She slapped his hands away from her, a glare in her eyes. “Don’t touch me. I can handle myself.” He frowned, lowering his hands and she pointed at him. “I don’t make habits of talking to my exes, but I need to have a conversation with you.” He nodded and she poked his chest. “I want the real reason you dumped me.”

(Y/N) paused, lowering her head as she breathed to herself, “Oh my god, I sound like a crazy ex-girlfriend.” Bruce snorted and she whipped her head up, glowering, “That wasn’t supposed to be funny to you, Mister Wayne.” He shut his mouth and she poked his chest again. “I’ve been waiting patiently for the past two years, waiting for you to tell me your secret, and the night that you tell me we need to talk, I think you’re going to, then you dump me and tell me we need to see other people.”

She grunted at him. “I know you’re Batman and whatever reason you dumped me was a crock of shit and I want the real one. Now.” (Y/N) glared at him until he sighed and nodded, taking her hand, and leading her into the study. On the way, she saw the boys and she waved at them. “Hi boys! I’m sorry I’m in a rare form right now.”

They simply grinned and waved back as they watched them enter the cave. Bruce led her down the steps, at one point having to carry her because she couldn’t take so many close steps.

When they arrived, she stared at it in shock. “I…knew you were him…but…” She twirled around, feeling his hands steadying her as she did. “But it’s so much realer in person.”

Bruce nodded, looking at the cave. “It is, isn’t it.”

(Y/N) turned to him, a heart wrenching look on her face. “Is this the real reason you left me?” He nodded silently and she asked, “Why?”

A moment of silence passed before he sighed and said, “The lives we live are dangerous, (Y/N)…and I…I just didn’t want you to get caught up in all of it.”

She stared at him before quipping, “Duly noted and while I appreciate the sentiment, that wasn’t your decision to make.” She took his hand. “A relationship is based on two people not just one.”

He nodded again and they lapsed into silence until he looked at her and questioned, “Did you really get drunk and come over here to get me to tell you that?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat before pulling back her hand and turning around. “Everyone needs a bit of liquid courage every now and then to face what’s weighing on them.” She glanced at him. “I don’t take half-ass answers from anyone. Not even you.” (Y/N) nodded at him and started making her way to the stairs when she felt him grab her hand again; she turned and looked at him, seeing a hopeful look on his face.

“Stay with me?” he asked.

She grunted at him. “We aren’t dating anymore, remember? You broke up with me like a textbook rich boyfriend does.”

Bruce stopped to her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pulled her close. “What if I apologize for it?”

She went silent for a second, drawing circles in his chest with her finger, then she looked at him and murmured, “You’re going to have to give me a hell of a night in order to apologize for this. Maybe…behave and do everything I tell you?”

A smirk wound his lips and he flirted, “I think I can manage that.” (Y/N) hummed at him, and he raised a hand, cupping her cheek. “But I think right now, youshould get some sleep before we have it.”

“Hmm…darn shame, I was really looking forward to not walking for a week.” She paused and looked at him. “Does this mean we’re dating again?”

Bruce nodded. “If you’ll have me. I know it’s difficult to be around all of us.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I don’t think anyone sane could really hold their own in your family.” She paused. “Remember the first time I came over? Damian made me play chess with him.” She waved her hands around. “I still don’t even know how to play chess!” Bruce laughed as he helped her up the stairs. “Bruce, I don’t know how to play chess.”

“I know, darling.”

“I beat him at it.”

“I know you did, darling. He’s still bitter about it.”

“He is?”

“Of course, he is. He’s a perfectionist.”

(Y/N) grinned as she nudged him. “So are you.”

Bruce stopped moving and gazed at her. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

She nodded at his apology. “Sorry for coming to your house wine-drunk and demanding a reason for our breakup.”

“Don’t worry…you’re not the first who’s done so.”

“Bruce Wayne!”

He laughed at her shock, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I was joking, (Y/N).”

She grunted as he led her into the study. “You’d better be.” (Y/N) waved at the boys who were still in the room. “Hi boys! Bye boys!”

They wore amused grins and waved at her as they walked to his bedroom. Bruce helped her out of her clothes and into a t-shirt of his and they crawled into the bed, her curled up on his chest, his arms wound tightly around her.

“You’re warm,” she murmured.

“I know.”

“I missed it.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

There was a moment of silence then he murmured, “I love you, (Y/N).” He expected a reply, but when he received none, he looked down, seeing her asleep. Bruce huffed a quiet laugh before pressing a kiss to her temple and reaching over to turn out the lamp.

322 notes · View notes

lyrical-panic · 3 years

Note

Hello! So here's my request:

The 1-A girls including reader are having a girls night in one of their dorms playing Minecraft (teaching Momo how to play for the first time), giving out study tips, eating snacks and watching movies, etc... When their in a topic about their crushes and reader shyly tells them it is Tenya Iida... While the girls are shocked and ask a lot of questions why iida much to reader whos not really liking the questions, the girls decided to help reader out by setting both iida and reader on a date by grabbing readers phone and texting iida, much to readers protest and what the girls don't know is that the boys are having a boy night at the common room too and doing the exact same thing, helping iida out to finally ask reader on a date.

so yeah, haha that's all and you can add your own ideas there and can this be a oneshot? I also want to see the perspective of iida if that't possible? I hope this is okay? thank you!! ☺

Took a few liberties, included some personal touches, I’m really happy with how this came out and I hope you are too!

Risks

Masterlist

Weekend nights in Heights Alliance were arguably the best.

Mr. Aizawa was more flexible about curfew on Friday and Saturday nights, so the class took those nights as opportunities to have slumber parties and late night get-togethers.

This was one such night. You, Ochaco, Tsu, Momo, Toru and Kyoka had gone to Mina’s dorm room with snacks and games in hand. Your hostess had offered up her wide selection of video games and her Netflix, Hulu, and Disney+ accounts. Toru had even come through with an impressive assortment of face masks, nail polish, and hair accessories. Needless to say, everyone was more than set for a night of careless fun.

“Wait, how do I craft something?” Mom held her controller out to Kyoka, brows pinched together.

“This button, here,” she took the controller, demonstrating by crafting an axe.

Upon realization that Momo had next to no knowledge of Minecraft, the party had abandoned its Super Smash Bros. tournament in favor of showing her the ropes. You’d vowed to help her make a simple house by the end of the night.

“Pro tip: make sure you collect all the same type of wood.” You suggested, eyes focused on the white stripes you were attempting to paint onto Tsuyu’s light green nails with some success.

“Yeah, unless it’s on purpose, like if you use a different wood for the roof or floor, it’s just gonna look like you hobbled it together in less than a minute.” Mina agreed, before promptly shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

Ochaco gasped playfully, swiping the bowl away. “Don’t eat all of it!”

“I’ll eat whatever I damn well please!” Mina retorted, making a grab for the snack as Ochaco floated it over to Toru.

“Okay guys, I can’t take it anymore.” The invisible girl grabbed the bowl out of the air. “We’re all together, hanging out with zero stress for the first time in months! Does anyone have anything juicy to share? Someone’s gotta have something!”

Kyoka rolled her eyes. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I didn’t come to gossip.”

“This class is a pretty tight-knit group, ribbit. Nothing really happens that we don’t all know about.” Tsu pointed out.

“Okay then. Crushes.” Mina prompted.

“What about them?” Momo asked.

“Who’s got ‘em?”

There was a moment of silence. You noticed how a few pairs of eyes flicked to Ochaco, who had gonna very red and very quiet. You sighed, musing to yourself about the things you did for friendship.

“I, uh, I kinda like Iida?”

You hated how you phrased it like a question. You hated how you mitigated the confession with the word “kinda”. You hated that silly, totally inadequate word “like”. Your feelings for Iida went beyond a simple crush. You’d had them for him for months now, you were long past the “like” phase. You were head-over-heels in love.

Toru gasped dramatically. “Really? Iida?”

Ochaco smiled at you, gratitude evident in her eyes. “You two would make a sweet couple.”

“What do you like about him?” Mina asked excitedly. “When did you fall for him? Are you gonna confess?”

“Take it easy,” Kyoka chuckled lightly.

You also laughed, albeit uneasily. You were beginning to regret not keeping your mouth shut. “Okay, I’ll take those one at a time. He’s kind and attentive, and he’s very loyal. I think I realized that I liked him a few weeks after the sports fest, and absolutely not.”

“Why don’t you want to tell him?” Momo asked, pursing her lips. “I think he’d appreciate the honesty.”

“Be that as it may, I don’t wanna make things weird between us or potentially ruin our friendship.” You explained “I don’t wanna jeopardize what we have now by confessing.”

“Plus, Iida doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’s want to date someone, ribbit.” Tsu put in, examining her newly painted nails. “He’s very serious. He’d probably see it as a distraction, these are really pretty, (Y/N), thank you.”

You smiled weakly at your frog-like friend as Toru threw a piece of popcorn at her head. “Tsu!”

“No, she’s right.” You sighed heavily, motioning for the popcorn bowl, intending to drown your sorrows and maybe yourself in it.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” Momo patted your back sympathetically as she passed the bowl down. “I can’t imagine how frustrating it is.”

You hummed in agreement as you shoveled the snack into your mouth. “Whatever. It sucks, bur I’ll get over it.”

“Like hell you will!” Mina snapped “Ochaco: our romantically challenged friend’s phone, if you please?”

Ochaco dutifully and bemusedly took your phone from Mina’s bedside table and handed it over to her.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, suddenly on high alert.

You were ignored. Mina instead took your hand, and placed your thumb over the home button on your phone, unlocking it.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” Kyoka asked.

“Texting Iida.”

It took you a few seconds to process her words and what they meant. Once you had, though, you made a sudden grab for the phone. “Oh no you’re not!”

“Chillax, I’m not gonna send him anything embarrassing.” Mina swatted your hand away as she scooted safely out of your reach. “I’m just gonna suggest that you two go out sometime and heavily imply that it’ll be a date.”

“Now hold on,” Momo cut in, setting down her controller. “We shouldn’t be interfering. This is between (Y/N) and Iida.”

“Yeah, if (Y/N) wants to ask him out, they’ll do it themselves, ribbit.” Tsu chimed in.

Mina sighed, slumping. “I know you’re both right, but I can’t just let them wallow! Iida really likes you, (Y/N)!”

“Oh yeah?” You raised both eyebrows.

“Yeah! He’s a lot softer with you then with anyone else!”

“He does tend to let you get away with things,” Kyoka admitted. “Remember the other day when you were sitting on your desk? The guy didn’t even bat an eye.”

“He also seems like he talks to you more than he does the rest of us!” Toru pointed out.

“Plus he worries about you more than the rest of us!” Ochaco added on.

“He looks more relaxed around you.” Tsuyu threw in.

“Sometimes when we have class representative meetings, he’ll offhandedly mention you.” Momo reported thoughtfully. “He’ll tell me about something you said or did that he found funny or endearing. It’s actually pretty adorable the way he talks about you. It’s like his whole face lights up.”

You were quiet for a very long moment. It was too good to be true. You liked playing it safe. You kept your cards close to your chest until you were absolutely sure you had the wining hand. And if you’d learnt anything in your hero education, it was that sometimes you needed to take a risk.

“Can I have my phone, please?”

Mina tossed it to you. Without another word, you navigated to your messages, and typed something out quickly. Before you could reconsider, you took a risk.

You hit send.

. . .

This isn’t actually all that bad.

When Kirishima and Kaminari had suggested a “boys’ night”, Tenya had been apprehensive at best. He was all for class bonding activities, but what was the point if it was only a fraction of their group?

“(L/N) and the girls are having a sleepover, so we may as well something ourselves.” Sero had pointed out.

Despite his skepticism, Tenya found himself thoroughly enjoying himself. After admitting he’d never seen a Marvel movie, Midoriya had immediately logged the common room TV into his Disney+ account and began the first ever 1-A Marvel movie marathon.

“Ugh, does this mean we have to watch Age of Ultron?” Ojiro groaned “That one sucks.”

“Yeah, but at some point I’m going to make Iida watch Wandavision.” Midoriya replied “Ultron is important to understanding it, sucky as it may be.”

“That’s not gonna be for a while if we’re watching every single Marvel movie, though.” Sato chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re definitely gonna need more than one night for this shit,” Kaminari chortled “Wandavision not withstanding.”

Tenya smiled, not quite following but listening all the same. He suddenly felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

(L/N): Random question. Want to go out and get dinner tomorrow, just the two of us?

It was indeed a random question. He had no qualms about spending time with (L/N) though. Even if it was just the two us them. Especially if it’s just the two of us. Tenya quickly shook the thought away though, feeling he’s cheeks flare.

Me: That would be great! Do you have a time and place in mind?

(L/N): Would 6 be ok? As for the place… would you be up for a surprise?

Tenya hesitated. Usually he’s say no. He liked everything to be perfectly planed to a T. But something about (L/N) made him want to be spontaneous. They made him want to take risks. So he decided to do precisely that. He threw caution into the wind as he sent his response.

Me: 6 is more than ok, and I’m always up for a surprise if it’s with you.

Tenya cringed immediately after hitting send. The instant regret was crushing and depressing. He wished he could be honest about his feelings, about (L/N) without overthinking every move he made.

Oh well. What’s done is done. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, praying you wouldn’t respond. However, his plea went ignored a minute later when he felt his phone vibrate yet again.

Biting back a groan, Tenya opened his texts, inwardly bracing himself.

(L/N): Awesome! I’ll meet you at 6 in the common room tomorrow, then. Can’t wait! ❤️

He gaped. That tiny red emoji wormed not his brain and burned itself behind his eyes until that was all he could see. He barely even registered the rest of the message.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Iida?” Kaminari, never one to understand personal space, leaned over to glance at the class rep’s phone phone before he could angle it away. “You sly little- IIDA HAS A DATE!”

“No I- that’s not- Kaminari!” Tenya sputtered incoherently, arms flailing. “That was entirely inappropriate. You shouldn’t look at other people’s devices without their permission. It’s rude, demeaning, and an invasion of privacy!”

“Forget that, what’s this about a date?” Sero leaned in on Kaminari’s other side.

“Iida and (L/N) were texting,” Kaminari announced “They asked him out to dinner, he said yes, and they send a heart emoji.”

“What color?” Aoyama demanded, squinting.

“Red.”

“Oh my,” Aoyama leaned back in his seat, a coy smirk playing across his lips.

Sero chuckled, leaning across Kaminari’s lap to pat Tenya on the arm. “You lucky bastard.”

The blue haired boy brushed his hand away, bristling. “Not that my personal activities are any of your concern, but it’s not a date. We’re just going to get something to eat.”

“I’m not an expert or anything, but I don’t think many people go out one-on-one for dinner if it’s platonic.” Midoriya pointed out.

“Yeah, plus, that emoji says a lot.” Kirishima added “(L/N) clearly means this to be a date. If you don’t feel the same way about them, you need to tell them.”

“You don’t want to go on a date with (L/N)?” Todoroki asked, raising an eyebrow “I would’ve thought you’d be happy for an opportunity like that.”

“See! Even Todoroki can see you’ve got it bad for them!” Sato exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the confused heterochromic boy.

Tenya ignored his overly-excited classmates. He flipped back through his conversation with (L/N), staring at every text until he’d inadvertently memorized them all.

Me: Is this a date?

. . .

“So much for subtly, I guess.” Kyoka remarked.

“Subtly gets you nowhere with Iida!” Ochaco insisted “You have to be upfront with him!”

“But I sent him a heart,” You groaned for the fourth time.

“Well, there’s no sense in bemoaning it now.” Momo reasoned.

“It was a calculated risk.” Toru admitted, an undercut of worry in her voice.

“A risk, huh?” You chuckled humorlessly “I seem to be taking a lot of those tonight.”

Ding!

Seven pairs of eyes darted to your overturned phone at the same moment. No one moved an inch.

“Well,” Tsu nudged you “are you going to look at it?”

You gulped, shakily taking the device. The girl’s gathered around you. As you opened your text messages.

Iida: Is this a date?

“No backing down now!” Ochaco squealed, gripping your shoulders tightly and shaking you.

“Go, go, go, go, go!” Mina bounced on her knees like it was a sporting event.

You took a deep breath, then texted back.

. . .

(L/N): That was the idea, lol. It doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be, tho

Tenya pursed his lips, showing the response to Midoriya.

“C’mon, Iida.” His friend chuckled lightly “Just tell them the truth.”

The truth. He did want it to be a date, but a simple “I want to go on a date with you” didn’t seem sufficient. It wouldn’t do justice to how he really felt.

Tenya had already taken a risk tonight, so what was one more? But knowing what he now knew about your feelings, it didn’t seem quite so scary anymore.

Me: I’d love nothing more than to go on a date with you, (L/N). Truth be told, I’ve wanted to for a while now, I just haven’t had the courage to ask you myself. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. ❤️

#mha #bnha #iida #tenya #tenya iida #iida x reader #tenya x reader #tenya iida x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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hockeylvr59 · 3 years

Text

Collide Part 2 || Sidney Crosby

Summary: Life as a single foster mom and a pediatrician didn’t leave much time for dating. But when Dr. Erin Lancaster becomes the pediatrician for Pittsburgh Penguins Defenseman Brian Dumoulin's baby boy, her association and quick friendship with his wife Kayla turns her crazy but quiet life upside down.

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Apparently my brain is just on a Sid kick lately. First a blurb update, now this one. Let me know what you think.

Warnings: alcohol consumption Word Count: 2,001

~~~~~

The weeks leading up to the holiday season were usually some of the best as a foster mom. The kids that I called my own, even temporarily, generally didn’t have a great experience with family holidays in the past and it was always exciting to teach them the magic of the season. The joy of watching the Macy’s parade and then football before having a big meal, going looking at Christmas lights, and everything else that filled the days between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

This year though, this year was tough. A few weeks ago, just days after my trip to the hospital, the seven year old I was fostering was moved to another placement. More biological siblings had popped up in the system and taking them would have placed me over my permitted limit. So instead, the rambunctious boy I was finally starting to make strides with was moved so that he could be with siblings he had never met, all because of the preference of keeping siblings together. A week later, my five year old was transferred back into the care of his mother who had successfully completed a rehabilitation program. I wasn’t sure the woman could be trusted but the court had decided she was fit enough to regain custody and there was nothing I could do about it.

Finally, yesterday, my newborn had been deemed stable enough to be placed with a paternal grandmother now that he was completely off the drugs. I had done my limited job of making sure that he got elevated care and now he was in the placement I knew he’d end up in all along.

It was the weekend before Thanksgiving and for the first time in a long time I didn’t have any kids under my roof. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t have any kids placed with me, it had been that long. Yesterday, it had been easy enough to ignore, I went into the office to catch up on paperwork, I picked up dry cleaning and went grocery shopping before drinking half a bottle of wine and falling into bed exhausted.

Today though, things were quiet and now that the world had stilled around me, my normally thick exterior cracked and I found myself sobbing steadily. I loved being a foster mom, I really did, but it was heartbreaking to know that these kids would never be mine for one reason or another. That while most days my house was full of laughter and as much love as these kids could manage, days like today would always be waiting at the end of it all.

While drowning my sorrows with a pint of ice cream I definitely didn’t need to be eating at 11am, my phone buzzed beside me with a message from Kayla Dumoulin. She had texted more than once over the past few weeks with worries such as whether Brayden’s cord was healing normally and whether she could cut his nails because he didn’t like the mittens but she didn’t want him to cut himself. Through our text conversations she had learned of my rapidly emptying house and her message this morning was just to check in and see how I was doing.

She was such a sweetheart and I replied with a shrug emoji declaring that if sobbing over a pint of ice cream at 11am was normal then I was doing just fine. The phone rang a moment later and I sighed seeing her name pop up because the message wasn’t intended to make her feel guilty or anything, it was just genuine honesty. Still, I answered the phone, setting the pint of ice cream aside for a moment.

“It sounds like you need some baby cuddles.” Kayla stated, the sound of soft chatter coming through the line. “Why don’t you come over. Brayden wouldn’t mind seeing his favorite doctor.” She suggested.

“That’s sweet but I’ll be okay.” I assured her. “I don’t want to impose. I’m sure I can find something to do.”

“You’re not imposing.” Kayla insisted. “Me texting you at 2am with a breastfeeding question was imposing.” Her voice was teasing and I sighed softly remembering being up with my own newborn when she had a question about hers since Brian was on the road.

“Seriously.” She continued. “Come over, snuggle Brayden, and give my husband a second opinion on this bottle of wine he just got since I can’t drink.” She suggested. Sensing that she truly meant it, I sighed and agreed reluctantly telling her to send me the address.

____

45 minutes later, I had cleaned myself up so it didn’t look like I had spent the last few hours sobbing. After putting on some light makeup, I had thrown on some black jeans, a striped long sleeve tee, and a tan pullover before deeming myself decent enough to head out.

Plugging the address in my phone’s gps, I drove over to Kayla and Brian’s neighborhood, parking down on the street in front of their house. It didn’t even register that there were approximately a half dozen cars spread between the driveway and the street already as I made my way up to the front door.

Kayla greeted me after just a minute and I gently teased that if I didn’t know better I wouldn’t believe she just had a baby as she let me inside. That made her smile, and as she guided me to the kitchen for a glass of wine I realized that there was a significant amount of noise coming from the living room. It wasn’t until she was murmuring for me to make myself comfortable that I realized the living room was occupied by almost a dozen Penguins players, football pregame on tv.

“Alright Muzz, you can give my baby back now.” Kayla declared half-joking, half-serious. As soon as the goalie handed the baby over, Kayla was crossing the room back to me and handing off the little boy who just snuggled into my chest as soon as he was placed there. “There...baby snuggles.” She murmured.

“Thanks.” I whispered, resting a hand over the infant’s back before taking a sip of wine feeling slightly uncomfortable as eyes slowly landed on me.

“Hey doc.” Brian greeted appearing from somewhere else in the house. “Let me know what you think of that wine, not sure if this brand is a keeper or not.” He stated simply portraying the feeling that I wasn’t at all anywhere I didn’t belong and that this was a normal occurrence. Nodding I promised to do so before just focusing back on the baby in my arms. The physician portion of my brain noted that he was doing well and had certainly been growing while the rest of me just found myself relaxing at the feeling of a baby’s steady breaths.

Most of the guys paid me no mind as the game started. Yet I felt one pair of eyes linger. As I stepped outside after handing Brayden off to feed just before halftime, a four legged companion joined me and I chuckled petting the Dumoulin’s dog Roo while sitting on the steps of their patio nursing my second glass of wine.

The patio door slid open and then shut before a body slid down next to me on the steps.

“So where are your foster kids?” A familiar voice asked and glancing over my eyes met those of the Penguins Captain.

“With another foster family, with their mother, and with their paternal grandmother.” I whispered, quickly taking another sip of the wine to try and push back another round of tears. “The sucky thing about being a foster mom is they always go away in the end.”

“I...I didn’t know.” Sid mumbled after a moment and I waved him off petting Roo and wiping at my eye with the back of my hand.

“I didn’t expect you to.” I stated simply.

“So that’s why…” Sid trailed off, stopping when I nodded.

“Baby cuddles to try and make everything better.” I shrugged. “To fill the three new cracks in my heart. It’s been a long time since I was childless.” I whispered. “I’ve been trying to recall when it was and I honestly can’t remember. I feel like it had to have happened at least a few times but I really can’t recall not having anyone since I became a foster mom in the first place.”

“How long is that?” Sid asked, tone softer now than it had been that day at the hospital.

“Two...almost three years. I applied to become a foster parent toward the end of my residency.”

“Can I ask how many?” Sid questioned.

“36.”

“In three years? That’s...wow.” Glancing over I could see the genuine shock on his face.

“I don’t know what the turnover rate is generally but I’m fairly certain my rate is higher than average. I get a lot of the drug addicted babies because of my skills and they’re generally only with me 2-3 weeks until it’s safe to move them into a more permanent placement, often with other family members.”

“How do you handle that?” He murmured, reaching down to pet Roo as well who had rolled over onto her back for belly rubs.

“Usually I just focus on my patients, on the kids that I do still have with me because they deserve all of my love and attention. This time? Crying over Ben and Jerry’s at 11am until Kayla insisted I come over.” A smile cracked Sid’s face and he apologized quickly declaring that this isn’t something to smile about.

“No it’s okay. You can find it amusing, I know it wasn’t the most healthy coping method.”

“Are you going to be okay?” He inquires softly.

“Yeah. Well, I should probably lay off the wine. Dumo has really good taste.” Sid’s eyes crinkled a little bit and he looked at me like be serious. “I will be. I mean it’s only a matter of time before I get the call that another child needs me.” I assured him. “I just...sometimes...days like this...they make me wonder whether I still want to do this, you know…”

“Go on…” Sid urged.

“I just...it’s so hard. Never knowing whether I’m going to wake up and have to say goodbye again. Constantly giving away pieces of my heart that I’ll never get back. Days like today make me just want to be a mom. Not a foster mom but a mom. To have my own kids who won’t be there one day and gone the next.”

“I get that feeling.” Sid murmured after a moment. “Not the ‘here one day gone the next’ part, but uh, wanting your own kids part, that I get.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke before dropping his hand back down to pet Roo, his fingers brushing against mine. Immediately my mind flashed back to the feeling of his hand wrapped around mine and I quickly pushed that aside.

“There you are!” Kayla exclaimed, popping her head out the door, her eyes shifting back and forth between you and Sid and noting how close you were sitting. “We just put out some food if you’re hungry and want something other than ice cream.” She grinned, dipping back inside looking like she was about to burst with what she just saw even if it was absolutely nothing.

When Sid stood he offered a hand out to help you up, murmuring for Roo to come inside and he’d see if he could find her a treat. The bulldog was eager for that and followed after him as you brushed yourself off and picked your wine glass up moving to rejoin the group.

Ridding of your buzz with some food and water and more baby snuggles you finally headed home with the feeling that there was something more to your conversation with Sid that you hadn’t put your finger on.

Outfit:

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #pittsburgh penguins #pittsburgh penguins imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #ppenguins #019

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celestialevie · 3 years

Text

Weddings and what could’ve been’s // F.W. x F! Reader

Hi! This is my first ever posted fic, I hope you’ll like it!

PAIRING: Fred Weasley x F! Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: You’ve been friends with Fred since forever. But what happens when the one you love is not feeling the same and now he’s getting married to the girl he loves. Based off of this song :))

Word count: 2.5k

It was supposed to be a good day. Waking up, getting ready for another day of writing her novel about picturing a certain red head as love interest of her novel. But it all flushed down when she saw a small envelope just sitting there on the table, almost as if it was mocking her. It's been sitting there ever since it arrived yesterday afternoon, not expecting to receive an invitation to the wedding of one person she didn't want to participate in. Fredrick Gideon Weasley. Her best friend since their second year of Hogwarts. It was almost ironic how a simple wedding invitation can break a heart that's already been on the verge of breaking, tears were rolling down her face, not a single sound could've been heard besides her sobs. Her best friend/roommate ran out of her room as soon as she heard her. Not expecting to see her best friend on the floor crying over a single paper, she realises what happened, the one thing she dreaded even though it was only a matter of time before it happened. The way Fred was talking about that girl, she knew that her best friend was in a wait of a permanent broken heart. But now a day later, she decided to throw the invitation in the rubbish, deciding no matter how much she cared about her best friend she knew she wouldn't be able to handle watching him promising himself to someone else for forever. Taking out a bottle of her favourite rose, she pours some of it in a glass and heads back to her room, deciding to forget about her heartbreak by throwing herself into her fictional world where she was the one Fred loved.

Soon, she'll realise that not even wine and her own fictional world would help cure her broken heart. Not when the one she's so in love with decided so pay her a visit, not hearing anything from her in over a week. He wondered if she got the invitation to the wedding, the day he couldn't wait for it to finally happen. The thing is, he's not going to be able to do it, if his soulmate in a form of his best friend isn't there by his side, making sure he doesn't panic like he often happens to do in stressful situations.

Upon hearing knocking on her door, she slowly gets up from her desk, heading to open the door, not expecting to see the person she wanted to see the least, standing in front of her.

Every day they were closer to the day that changes everything for forever. One of them was dreading that day, while the other one couldn't want for it to come any sooner. Soon it was the day of rehearsal dinner or also known as the day before it all goes shit show for her. Everything was ready, her outfit ready for tomorrow. Deciding she wasn't strong enough to make it through the wedding alone, she begged her best friend to go with her, helping her survive with alcohol. The wedding was in the backyard of The Burrow, but it wasn't anything special or near as big as it was Bill's, both Fred and Lillian agreeing it was best to have a smaller intimate wedding with their closest ones there. Apparating a minute away from The Burrow, she walks towards the door, knocking softly before entering the house. Everyone was on their feet, final preparations for tomorrow are being made. Ginny was the first one to notice her, running towards the girl. Brining her in the hug, she laughs. '' Hi Ginny '' they pull away from the hug, Ginny looking at the girl. '' You look gorgeous y/n. I'm still angry at my brother for not marrying you. '' y/n rolls her eyes playfully. '' Stop it, you know we would never work as a couple, plus Lillian is a lovely girl, I'm sure she'll be a good sister-in-law. '' they talked as they walked upstairs heading towards Ginny's room. What no one knew is that the night of the Yule ball, Fred was ready to confess his dying crush on his best friend, that's why he brought her to the astronomy tower. He had it all planned out until they were interrupted, and it was all ruined. Fred often wondered if they hadn't been interrupted would've it been her who he was marrying. Would it work out or would it fail and therefore ruin their friendship. George was the only one along with Lee who knew about it. That's why the night before the wedding he found himself sitting in front of the small lake they had behind their house, wondering if Lillian is truly the one he wants to marry. Y/n found him after a few minutes, joining him. '' I knew I'd find you here. '' he said nothing, just kept looking in front of him. '' What's bothering you, Freddie? '' she gently took his hand into hers, brushing her thumb gently across his hand. '' I'm just worried if I'm making a mistake or rushing this. Before tonight, I couldn't been happier waiting for this day to finally come, but now that it's here all my mind seems to do is make me wonder if I'm marrying the wrong girl. Maybe I should just marry you, we've been friends for forever, it wouldn't change much. '' he lets out a small laugh. Letting go off his hand, I grab his face with my hands on both sides of his face. '' Fred I need you to look at me. Do you love Lillian? '' he nods his head. '' I don't think I've ever loved anyone the way I love her. '' a small smile appears in the corner of his mouth. '' Do you see yourself being with her for the rest of your life? Is she the one you want to see growing old with you? '' y/n questions him. Fred waits for a few seconds before answering, with a big smile on his face. '' Yeah, I do. God, why was I even doubting this. This is why I need you by my side, you always know how to get me out of my head. Thank you, love. '' he pulls her into a strong hug. '' Hey, if you need a getaway car tomorrow, me and George will have one prepared and then we can get married. '' she joked, even though there was some half truth in it. '' it's late, I have to go get that beauty sleep for tomorrow so do you. Goodnight Freddie. '' she plants a small kiss on his cheek before apparating herself back to her flat, before crashing down in the middle of living room, bursting into tears of heartbreak. The pieces that weren't shatter from before, had shattered now. There were no pieces left of her heart. The rest of the night she spent in the arms of her best friend, crying herself to sleep.

It was funny really. The story of how they met, how they became inseparable and how she eventually fell in love with him. The latter didn't come to much of a surprise. How could someone not fall in love with him, when he's the most amazing person she's ever come across. It was their second year in Hogwarts, and she was heading towards the library, deciding to prepare herself for the upcoming Potions exam. Merlin knows how much she dreaded those. It wasn't her fault, most people on her mom's side of family never really knew how to do potions. As she was walking there, someone grabbed her by her arm and started dragging her away with them in a direction of the nearest broom closet. In a second she realised it was one of the Weasley twins. Not even needing to ask why he was in such a hurry, already knowing they caused another trouble. Quickly running inside the broom closet, one of the twins put a hand on her mouth, signalling for her to be quiet. Rolling her eyes, she did as told until we heard Filch and Mrs. Norris passing by. Another minute passed on until he removed his hand from her mouth. '' I'm Fred. '' he introduced himself. '' Y/n '' she shook his hand. '' Care to explain why you dragged me into this dusty broom closet with yourself? '' Fred laughed. '' Had to move you out of the way from Filch or else you'd be in the trouble along with me. '' nodding her head, she left the closet. And that was the beginning of their weird friendship. From participating in the pranks, to making excuses why they're not in the certain classes you shared with them to Fred asking her to go to the Yule Ball with him, leading us to the night they had almost kissed. Somewhere in between she slowly fell for her best friend without intending to. It all felt like a dream. Dancing with her best friend so closely, to sneaking off to the astronomy tower because that night, the stars were shining so bright. Slow dancing in the moonlight, it all felt almost to perfect. Both of them slowly leaning towards each other until they heard a crashing noise, interrupting their intimate moment. It made her realise that it was for the best for them to be just friends, their friendship being worth more than a relationship not knowing how it'll end. Almost as if it was a silent agreement between them, neither of the two brought it up ever again. She would never want to ruin his day, so yes she had agreed to be his second best man, no matter how much it'll hurt to be there so up close seeing it all unfold almost like in a film scene.

Next morning when she woke up, she felt so exhausted while getting ready. She barely had any energy in her body and she was pretty sure she also had no tears left. Putting on her beautiful dress, she did her makeup and hair. She was ready to stand there next to her best friend, and watch him marry the love of his life, no matter how much the fact that it's not her hurted. It was a beautiful ceremony, he looked so beautiful in his dark blue suit, it really made his hair and eyes stand out a bit more, and don't her started on how beautiful the bride was. Her gown looked straight out of a fairytale. A few tears espaced during the ceremony but when George asked her why is she crying, she brushed it off as happy tears, even though she knew she didn't fool George with that lie. During the reception she mostly stayed at her table, trying to drown her sorrow in the wine and other alcoholic drinks. She watched as her roommate/best friend danced with George along with watching Fred and Lillian dance together like it was only two of them. Molly and Ginny often came and talked to me, but it wasn't long until I couldn't handle it anymore and just drowned the rest of my drink before saying goodbye to everyone, making an excuse saying she unfortunately had to go home and finish her book, her publisher gave her a deadline until tomorrow. The last person left to say goodbye to was Fred. Tapping him on the shoulder, she gives him a smile as he turns around. '' Congratulations Freddie boy once again. But I have to leave now unfortunately, I have a book to finish. '' Before she could even say anything he took her hands and put them around his neck, pulling her closer to him. '' Just this one dance and then I'm setting you free, okay? '' He begged her. Nodding her head, they start slow dancing. '' I'm really proud of you Freddie, you finally found the one you always talked about. Hopefully one day I'm gonna find my prince charming one day. '' she rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. '' I'm sorry I wasn't the one for you. '' he said, making the tears slowly start pooling in my eyes. '' That's not for you to apologise, we're too good friends for us to work in a relationship. Us not kissing that night of the yule ball was for the best. If we kissed who knows if you'd meet Lillian, your true love. Don''t you worry about me. '' and with that she pulled away from him, placing a small kiss on his cheek before apparating home. Letting him stand there alone, her words sinking in, making him wonder again if he had made a mistake by not letting her know of his feeling that night. But soon his thoughts were brushed away as he felt the lips of his wife on his.

'' Hello love '' he greets her after she moved aside, letting him in. Pulling her into a hug, he goes into the living room, while she still stands there shocked at her door. Quickly getting rid of her thoughts, she heads over to where he was. '' Hi Freddie, what are you doing here? I didn't expect you to visit. '' she sits down next to him. '' Well it's been over a week since I've last heard from you, so I decided to pay you a visit. She nods her head. '' Yeah, sorry about that. I started working on my novel again and that's all I've focusing on recently. Didn't mean to neglect your need for constant attention. '' she jokes, even though she knew he had his fiancée know to give him attention. Fred rolls his eyes. '' Yeah yeah whatever. Listen I have a question/favour to ask you. '' she furrows her eyebrows. '' Okay, I'm listening. '' taking a deep breath, he begins. '' So as you probably know I proposed to Liliana. Speaking of that, have you received my invitation to the wedding? '' it's been over a month since they got engaged, and yet she still couldn't bare the thought of losing Fred forever. '' Yes I have, it's very beautiful Freddie, I am very happy for the two of you. '' she gives him her best fake smile, not wanting to upset her best friend. '' Thank you, love. My question is, would you like to be my second best man? Along with George of course. I don't think that I would be able to do it without you by my side. Please say yes or at least think about it. It would really mean everything to me. '' This was definitely something she hadn't expect. There goes your plan on not going to the wedding, making an excuse of why she can't make it and get drunk in her room while watching her favourite romcoms. '' Of course Freddie, anything for you. '' those words came out before you even had a chance to think about them.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #harrypotter #george weasley #hpau #angst #fred weasley fluff #fred and george weasley #fred weasley smut #hogwarts #george weasley fanfiction #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley angst

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 3 years

Text

Neither of them said anything for a long minute. Murky water dripping carelessly into a puddle somewhere.

Asivus looked Astor up and down, taking him in. He then nodded, before kicking his legs back out and resting his arms behind his head, resuming his entertainment of staring at the wall. This time he put on the smile.

“Welp! I was kinda hoping a couple decades imprisonment would do the trick, but execution is fine too, I guess. Swiftness and punctuality and all that.” He let out a fake yawn. “Though you’re wasting your time if you’re looking to give a prayer. I intend to go out without asking the gods for anything.”

“I’m not a priest.” Astor said bluntly.

Siv cocked an eyebrow. “Uh…...n...nun—?”

“What happened to you, Assivus?”

“Ahhhh…And interrogation…” He nodded up and down again. “Then I’ll tell you what I told the other guy—you can goooooooo suck my dick.”

Siv turned to the side, fiddling with something metal in his right pocket, the rattling echoing on the stone floor. He finally pulled out an old flask, shaking it back and for, the sound revealing a little less than a third of alcohol left in the container. He shook it again and looked at the seer.

“Snuck this bad boy in, earlier! I know my way around a pat down or two, heheh…” He took a swig before gesturing towards Astor again. “How ‘bout you, choir man? Got any sorrows to drown?”

“A kind offer, but I actually value my health,” he replied. “You got any other contraband keeping you company, then?”

He tensed, but recovered so quickly Astor nearly thought he imagined it. Asivus then let out a laugh before taking another drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand—which despite the grime, was probably the cleanest part of his person.

“So they took the nearest homeless looking pal and sent them down to ask me shit...that’s certainly new.” He studied the seer again. “What? We supposed to bond over our greasy hair? Lack of fashion?” Another beat of silence. “...I’ll admit, it’s working a bit!” He laughed, leaning back against the wall.

Astor sighed silently, before cutting to the chase. “You’re being charged with manslaughter—the rampaging Guardian that destroyed part of the castle. But I know it wasn’t you.” Water dripped in the back end of the cell. “I want you to tell me about the malice.”

One of the cells down the corridor rattled, some Lizalfo shifting in it’s sleep. The echoing metal left a sense of unease in the air.

“Listen…” Assivus’s voice dropped to a dangerously quiet tone. “I’m not looking for a defense attorney, and I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. So you should probably get on your way before you miss your sermon.” He glared at Astor, blue eyes seemingly a shade darker.

“There were timelines where the world ends today, you know.” He stepped closer to the cell bars. “The princess far too weak to awaken her powers, the Calamity having grown just strong enough to erupt around the castle, infecting stone and flesh alike.”

“Well whatareya doing here, then, Mr. Doomsday?” Assivus cocked his head to the side. “If the world’s supposed to end, shouldn’t you be...out there? Maybe holding an ‘End is Nigh’ sign or something?”

“It doesn’t end for us, though. I’ve spent my life studying the endeavours and feats that await this world and the next. We’ve luckily still got a few years before hell starts to walk.” Astor stepped closer again, unwavering to Assivus’ gaze. “I’m merely curious about how your little disturbance—or perhaps, failure of a disturbance—coincides with the Calamity’s potential return.”

“I fucked with some Sheikah Tech. Guardian got funky. Brat nephew saves the day. I get arrested. Don’t remember running into any ancient evils on this little joy ride.”

“You and I both know the official report is made-up bullshit. I imagine your spite is derived from the unfairness of the situation.” He tucked his hair behind his ears. “Guardians can’t be corrupted through mechanical means. They’re forces crafted to take on ancient magical forces, and as such are engrained with magical components. They don’t just break out into violence over a broken gear, much less be purposefully made to go against their ancient purposes.” He scoffed at the smirk on Asivus’ face. “Especially not by some idiot like you.” Asivus placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended.

“In addition,” Astor continued, “I imagine your father didn’t have purple and gold slitted eyes. So that trait you occasionally have is certainly suspect.”

Assivus blinked, and the creeping colors in his eyes faded along with his confident smirk. He rubbed his blue eyes and sighed.

“Hey well that’s just rude,” Siv said, playfully. “Maybe I got it from my mom.”

Astor clicked his tongue, before clenching his jaw.

“Welp, you’re certainly a smarter cookie than I gave you credit for, purple man.” Asivus crossed his legs—criss-cross-applesauce—and turned completely too Astor. “But the fact of the matter is, I don’t really care anymore. And I don’t know why you care. Knowing doesn’t change anything for your little predictions, does it?”

The prophet’s face remained unreadable. Siv started scratching his head. “You know I do remember you now...I’ve seen you around. You used to pester the Dick-Rhoam a bunch. Walking around with your little maps and star charts or whatever...yeah, yeah. The weirdo that would tell the rich bastards around here that they were useless. Very bitter insults, I respect it! Suppose some heroes wear robes over capes.”

“It’s not about insults, it’s the truth.” Astor narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying to help you, but rest assured, we all are doomed to be consumed by the Calamity.”

There was silence between them again, but the slight smile on Siv’s face didn’t fade.

“You know, this whole dark and edgy doomsday act is great and all, don’t get me wrong. But since it’s just us alone here there’s no need to keep up the act. I mean, I’m pretty sure I saw you left that anonymous gift of exotic bird encyclopedias in Larc’s office last year.” Astor’s jaw tightened and Siv winked. “And I know because he claimed he saw me leave it—and I don’t buy books, ever. Might wanna change your wardrobe, you wouldn’t wanna be confused as the homeless orator—”

“The Malice.” The seer cut in. “How’d you get it?”

“Ah, it all started when I was born in Rauru Settlement to Lord Ligero Arist—”

“I mean how did you manifest it?” He articulated. “Everyone has malice, yes. But it takes something else to make it a physical power. Much less enough to infect Sheikah Technology.”

Asivus tapped his chin for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. “Can’t I just perish in peace? The ol’ axe seems for sharper conversation.”

“Look, I just want...I want to…” Astor shook his head, restarting. “Any information I get is something I can use to make our future demise just slightly more bearable for whatever unlucky generation lives. Don’t you care about that?”

“Nope! Got no kids. Larc and his brats either didn’t care to look at me, or Larc’s too much of a spineless brother to care about me over the rules. Soooo, I’m all for looking out for me, myself, and I, thank you very much.” He tapped his foot against the stone floor. “Plus, I had an ex that used his kids to scam me of 6k rupees in a pocket monster match a while back, so I’m still recovering from that.”

“Can I trade you then? What do you want? If I come back here with a good wine, will your lips loosen?” Astor was already mentally planning who he could buy a bottle from without a paper trail, already expecting Siv to say yes.

Water continued to drip and drip and drip. Asivus sighed.

“...Nah.” Astor raised an eyebrow. “I’m good...you can’t get what I want, anyhow…”

The seer looked at him for a long moment. Siv had gone back to staring into blank space, deep in thought about something that had caused his smirk to fade.

Let’s see...What would a dead man value? He’s got a rough relationship with his family, he’s got no friends, he’s tainted by a crime of his past…

“Are you interested in the past?” The prophet finally asked. “I know stuff about your mother. If the material doesn’t mean much to a dead man, then I’m all for a trade of information.”

Siv’s eyes suddenly shot up, specks of gold appeared in his pupils before disappearing.

“Wh..*What...?*”

“I’ll start. We’ll both trade details bit by bit, alright?” It was his turn to smirk at the look on Asivus’ face.

“I’m a bastard child.”

Asivus scrunched his eyebrows. “The fuck does that have to do with my…” His eyes suddenly widened, his mouth opening and closing. He quickly checked his flask to see how much was left, and took a swig. He stared back at Astor. “Explains a bit but...What the actual fuck.”

“Her name was Serenity. Serenity Lior Astor, from Deya Village. There, I think that’s adequate, yes?” Astor gestured down to him. “Your turn.”

Asivus scratched his chin, before standing. He drank the rest of his flask, before dropping it to the ground. “How’d she die?”

“Your father is Lord Ligero. You know how this game works.”

Siv bit his lip, for a moment, before shrugging. Suddenly, purple started to creep at the edges of his eyes, pupils thinning to gold.

“OK, magic man. But don’t be a snitch, alright?” Assivus raised one of his hands open in the air, and for a moment, Astor wondered if he was supposed to take it in a weird sideways handshake.

Then, the air swirled, a sensation of mixed euphoria and misery tainting the corridor. Cell occupants were rustling.

A glow of magenta swirled up Assivus’ forearm, before swirling in an orb hovering over his palm. The sound of it forming was like the thick, suffocating scream of hot metal as a smith plunges it into water.

The malice left as quick as it came, and hovering in Assivus’ palm was a strange, and beautiful astrolabe. It’s alluring faint glow nearly made him reach out between the bars to touch it.

“Your turn.”

#Digging In and Sinking #Assivus Hartell #???#hku spoilers

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iamtheblondestblonde · 3 years

Text

The Clark Kent Effect

Part Three

AN: Imma be honest, I’m not happy with this part. I feel like my brain isn’t entirely ready for writing yet, it’s still wired to argue cases so please bear with me as I get my shit together. I still wanted to give the people who follow this story something though (you have no idea how happy I am about every single one of you) and I sincerely hope that this is good enough, apologies if not :)

Song: Catching Feelings - Drax Project (this will be a thing from now on)

Word Count: 4,6k

Warnings: explicit language I’m pretty sure but thats it

Masterlist / Part One / Part Two

You felt foolish really. It was as if your entire life had turned into a soap opera overnight. You wouldn’t call yourself cynical by all means, you loved love and everything that came along with it far too much for that, but you would’ve at least described yourself as rational.

Up until now.

Up until now you’d been convinced that if people really wanted to, they would be together. Up until now you’d been a believer of where there’s a will, there will be a way - relationships that would classify as statutory rape excluded of course, age was a bit more than just a number in those cases - but you, you, you had been stopped by the Bro-Code, which was just absolutely ridiculous.

Imagine telling that to your parents: Hey mom, so I met this great guy but I can’t do anything about it because he’s friends with my ex. Your grandma would straight up laugh in your face if you told her, the badass bitch had married her former lover’s rich best friend after she’d gotten the news that her fiancé hadn’t survived the war. Without needing to call her you knew that she’d tell you to go for Mat in a second, no matter how much she’d adored Tito back then.

But you weren’t your grandma and Tito hadn’t died in a war so here you were, pining over a guy you couldn’t have and practically living out a tragic romance novel. Technically you didn’t even know if Tito would have anything negative to say about the entire situation, it may all be water under the bridge by now, but you also couldn’t just casually ask him without giving anything away.

The only good thing about this situation was that Tito had brought a great group of people along with him into your life. He’d always been good at making friends, that certainly hadn’t changed from when he was younger and since the two of you had hit it up again your friend groups had seemingly merged without issue. It sure made for an interesting dynamic. You’d had some explaining to do whenever you initiated someone new into a group that also included your ex, but the result was definitely worth it.

Spending time with Tito was just as easy as it used to be, back before feelings complicated everything. Somehow you’d managed to fall back into a completely platonic relationship, one that worked just as well when the two of you were alone as it did with others around.

You’d missed having him around the years before, his view on things and the way he’d always managed to make decisions easy by providing simple solutions.

Should you get a puppy right now? - No, your apartment is too small for a big dog right now and no, you also shouldn’t settle for a purse-sized dog because you’ve always wanted a big one since you were little.

Maybe a cat instead? - No, you are allergic to cats, don’t be stupid.

What about one of those naked ones? - Also no, you need to bathe those frequently because of the built up oils on their skin and you don’t even have a bathtub in your apartment.

(You really had to bathe those from time to time, you’d looked it up. Apparently they could still trigger allergies as well, which straight up sucked.)

Should we grab Thai or Chinese? – Chinese, you told me about this new place you wanted to try out like three days ago.

What can I do to stop this one coworker from belittling and making fun of me? - I’ll help you make her jealous, how about some courtside seats to watch the Nets since she likes basketball?

The last idea had actually come from Mat (since Tito didn’t know shit about basketball), who had also pulled some strings to get four tickets so you could attend the game with Dana, Tito and him. Mat had even taken some pictures of Dana and you in your jerseys and at the game so you could post about your night excessively on your social media, making sure that said co-worker would see it. They’d also given you a tour of the building and you were surprised to say that their locker didn’t smell as bad as you’d expected.

Said coworker hadn’t said anything ever since by the way, but you could still see her lurking on your Instagram.

For all the advice Tito provided you with, you still hadn’t asked him the one thing you needed an answer to:

Is Mat off limits?

But you couldn’t do that and therefore it somehow became a normal thing for Mat and you to walk on eggshells around each other after the “incident” at the bar.

From time to time there were moments that made it blatantly obvious how good things could be – the time he’d excitedly side hugged-you after the Nets turned the game that one night before realizing what he’d just done and quickly letting go, how he’d found you in the crowd and looked straight at you after scoring a goal at one of his games before being swept away by his teammates or simply how you could see him looking around until he found you whenever your group met up – but they never lasted more than a few seconds.

The two of you were stuck, neither of you wanting to hurt Tito’s feelings. At least with your big group moments with Mat alone were rare. They still happened from time to time though, especially since the majority of your friends wasn’t even aware of your dilemma, which was why you found yourself in the passenger seat of his car on a Friday night.

Emily’s boyfriend Rafael had finally returned from a two-month-long work trip to Spain and was dead set on making an authentic recipe he’d been taught over there for everyone. Unfortunately he’d made the mistake of putting Emily in charge of getting the needed groceries and in true Emily fashion she’d forgotten to buy tomatoes. Something neither of them had noticed until Rafael had wanted to start cooking as soon as everyone arrived at their place. Maybe Emily had done it on purpose or maybe she hadn’t been thinking properly in that moment, too caught up in the fact that her lover was with her again, but she’d tasked Mat and you with a last-minute errand run to the store.

You couödn’t stop yourself from checking out the wine aisle though, leaving him waiting behind, dutifully holding a bag of fresh tomatoes and checking his phone while you inspected the options. Rafael had asked you to bring some wine as well but the one he’d requested was apparently out of stock.

“Barzal”, you called for his attention, inspecting a label to try and figure out if it was a suitable replacement, “you think Rafael would like this one?”

As you turned around with the bottle in your hand you were taken by surprise by Mat’s proximity. You hadn’t even noticed how close he’d moved until now and for a couple of seconds you were caught up in your daydreams again. He seemed to struggle with the same thing, his pupils blown and his breathing growing uneven while the two of you just stared at each other. His lips were so close and so incredibly inviting, his mouth slightly agape.

If I leaned up on my tippy toes right now I could-

You quickly stopped yourself from finishing that thought, looking down so you had a couple of seconds to gather your thoughts, thoughts Mat seemed to infiltrate constantly. By the time you dared to look up again he was running his hand across his face in frustration before slowly breathing out and returning to his cool and collected regular self.

“I’m the wrong person to ask this, he was drinking some red wine earlier and the one you picked out is obviously red but that’s about it. Wine culture is definitely lost on me, sorry. I prefer beer.”

“Stereotypical hockey player through and through, I see.” Later on you’d tell yourself that the smirk that followed made your brain short-circuit, because there was no other way to explain why you’d keep on flirting otherwise.

“Maybe one day I’ll teach you, only if you’re nice to me though”, you teased, maybe in an effort to take control over the situation, maybe because you simply couldn’t stop yourself but his laugh made your heart soar for one second, until you remembered why this shouldn’t be happening.

Maybe you simply were an undiscovered masochist because even though you knew you should stay away from him you kept finding yourself in situations like this one way too many times. Deciding that you’d simply drink the wine by yourself if anyone had an issue with it - drowning your sorrows seemed like a great idea either way right now - you handed him a second bottle before moving to leave the aisle and in turn his personal space.

Making eye contact with Colin standing a couple of meters away from you got you to do a full 180 though, almost smacking into Mat in the process, who had obviously followed you towards the cashiers.

What was it with Mat and you?!

While a collision was thankfully avoided, Colin’s presence could cause other problems, since he hadn’t exactly appreciated you breaking off things over a month ago. Because you hadn’t known him for long it had taken you longer than you liked to admit to realize that he was a manipulative bastard, you weren’t proud of that, and you had no idea how he’d act right now.

“What’s wrong?”

“My ex is over there and I don’t want to talk to him. Is he walking in our direction?”

Mat lifted his concerned glance from you to look over your shoulder so he could be on the lookout.

“If he’s the one wearing a Gucci hoodie that is so obviously fake then yes, he is walking in our direction.”

You let out a snort at the casual burn but you weren’t too happy about having to face Colin right now. He hadn’t even crossed your mind in these past few weeks but for him to cross paths with you while you were with Mat of all people seemed to be yet another one of these odd twists of fate your life seemed to attract lately. Maybe your guardian angel had decided to start a meth lab instead sometime recently, there was no other way to explain what was going on instead.

“Uh.. you look good, don’t worry, he’s definitely the one that missed out. Do- do you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?”, Mat stuttered out nervously, probably noticing your anxious shifting and you couldn’t help but smile at his words, despite him being wrong about the reason behind your nervousness.

“Thanks for the offer”, you gave him a gentle smile of reassurance before continuing, “but no, it’s not about the way I look or anything like that, I don’t give a fuck what he thinks of me because he’s an idiot. I just don’t want him to cause any problems and if I could I’d just run away from him forever so he doesn’t have the chance to ever ruin my night again.”

“Well I’m no expert on forever, but I’m here right now and I say fuck that guy”, he responded and with that he grabbed your hand and started running towards the cashiers, leaving you with no other choice but to run along with him so he wouldn’t rip your arm out of its socket.

Oh how you wished you had a picture of the expression on Colin’s face as Mat and you ran past him, hand in hand and cackling like maniacs.

He was apparently too stunned to follow you as you fought over who would pay for the stuff - Mat ultimately winning - but you didn’t let that stop you from running all the way to this car as well. Of course hand in hand.

Masochist.

Somehow the weird tension between the two of you seemed to lift sometime during your little sprint but you weren’t sure if this would be permanent or if it was a spur of the moment thing. You’d be damned if you didn’t enjoy it while it lasted though.

The entire ride back you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hand had felt in yours and what a perfect fit it had been, desperately wanting to feel it again as the two of you sang along to the songs playing over the speakers, perfectly happy in your little bubble.

As Christmas approached Emily roped everyone in to accompany her on her mission to make Rafael appreciate the cold that taken over New York. According to her he dearly missed sunny Spain but all you could see was a man who was happy to be home again. You weren’t about to tell her that though, you’d long figured out that whenever she’d set her mind to something it was best to simply follow along. Everyone else had apparently come to the same realization because no one objected to her plans.

Emily wanted to take Rafael ice skating and since the Rockefeller Center apparently wasn’t good enough and too crowded, she told everyone to meet at Pier 17. Dana and Mariah were on board of course and you’d managed to convince Tito to come along, who had in turn invited Mat.

In a ridiculous attempt to not get spotted, both Mat and Tito had donned a pair of glasses and while you were used to seeing them on Tito by now, seeing Mat with them again knocked the breath out of your lungs for a second.

It had been almost two months since you’d last seen him like this and the fact that you hadn’t recognized him that night seemed impossible to you now. Maybe it was because you’d gotten to know him since, seeing him in real life instead of only on pictures and memorizing his handsome features in the process but as you tried to get a good glance at him without anyone noticing you realized that he’d never be Clark Kent to you again.

Whether that was a good or a bad thing was still left to decide though.

“Need help with those?”, Mat’s voice ripped you out of your thoughts. You’d been so lost in them that you hadn’t even noticed that everyone else had already laced up their skates and walked out onto the ice while you’d been staring at your hands for who knows how long, laces wrapped around your fingers but not doing anything. Tito and him had brought their own skates while everyone else had to rely on rentals and his were already laced up perfectly of course.

You nodded, despite full well knowing how to do it yourself but you weren’t about to stop Mat from pulling your leg into his lap so he had better access. Besides, you’d stupidly forgotten to bring gloves and you’d gladly take any chance to leave your hands stuffed inside the pockets of your jacket as you rapidly got colder.

His fingers worked quickly, tightening the laces with expertise and you watched his hand moving in awe.

If hockey ever wasn’t an option for him anymore, hand modeling definitely was. He had such nice hands, strong and big and perfect. For a quick second your thoughts drifted to what else they could be capable of, before you reeled them back in, mentally scolding yourself. It really wasn’t your fault, not thinking of him seemed impossible these days.

His eyes were mostly focused on his work but from time to time he’d lift his gaze and give you a small smile, one you happily returned despite the mess inside your head. He had just finished tying the second one when someone banged on the glass, making the both of you jump a little.

“Ayo Barzy get your filthy paws off Y/N!”, Tito yelled before zooming away again laughing loudly, leaving an awkward silence behind.

Was this just Tito being his usual little-shit-self or was he actually serious?

For a couple of seconds you couldn’t do anything but stare at Mat as he looked down onto his hands, one of them still loosely wrapped around your ankle. Carefully you pulled your leg off his lap, set both feet on the ground and got up.

It was apparently time to face reality again.

You waited until there was a break in the throngs of people circling around the rink before stepping onto the ice, muscle memory from your childhood kicking in immediately. Once you were convinced that you weren’t going to fall on your ass you did a couple of little spins until you were facing Mat again, who had followed you. He looked at you with a slack jaw and you laughed at his expression.

“You can skate?!”, he asked bewildered and you laughed again, moving so the both of you could skate beside each other at a relaxed pace.

“Obviously. Sorry to ruin your late night fantasies of teaching me how to skate but I’m a good Canadian girl and I did some figure skating when I was younger. I actually used to be pretty fast.”

That caught his attention and you smiled at the way he looked down at you with a conspiring grin.

“Oh yeah? Show me what you got then”, after a couple of seconds of contemplation he continued, “last one to reach the others owes the winner coffee.”

You looked around to find the rest of your group, spotting them on the other side messing around. Of course.

“You’re on, Barzy. I hope you’re ready to lose though”, you winked at him before racing towards your friends, leaving him and his exclamations about you being a cheater behind, now definitely not cold anymore.

Something in your relationship seemed to shift after that, at least whenever you were alone with him. Things were still difficult around others, especially with the way Emily kept prodding you for updates and Tito constantly disturbing the few moments you had alone with him. You weren’t sure yet if he did it on purpose or if he simply had awful timing but it wasn’t like it made a difference.

Christmas came and passed just as fast, the team leaving for a roadtrip shortly after. You’d celebrated New Year’s Eve with your friends in a club, unable to kiss the person you wanted to either way so your lips had stayed untouched as the fireworks went off at midnight and the days following.

Tito had announced that the guys would return later in the day though, already making plans in the groupchat to meet up tomorrow. While you wondered where he got all this energy from you suspected it was a way to distract himself as the trip hadn’t been successful - to put it mildly. In reality they’d ate shit, losing all of their games, some to teams that should have been an easy win.

It was hard to watch on TV but even harder to talk to the guys afterwards.

A couple of hours later you sat on the couch, a book in hand that you’d meant to read for weeks and enjoying staying in on a Friday for once. You were so lost in the story that it took you a couple of seconds to realize that someone had knocked on your door.

Who could that be?

Tito or Emily were most likely to show up unannounced at your day but you knew that Tito would be on his way to his home so he could sulk by himself and Emily was away on a ski trip with Rafael. Unwrapping yourself from your fuzzy blanket you padded towards the door, taken aback by who was waiting on the other side.

“What..”, you trailed of questionably, not even sure what you were going to say in the first place.

Mat looked so out of place in the dimly lit hallway, dressed in a suit that fit him so nicely, bag set on the ground next to him.

“Can I come in?”, was all he said and you nodded, unable to bring yourself to say anything else.

How could you even refuse him?

You didn’t move from your spot beside the door and after taking off his shoes he took a couple of steps inside your apartment, hanging up his coat before turning back around to face you.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here but if I’m honest I can’t even tell you. I just didn’t want to be alone tonight and since you seem to constantly be on my mind either way..”, he trailed off, seemingly gathering his thoughts before continuing, “I don’t know if you watched the games or-“

“I did and you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to”, you said softly as you interrupted him, sensing his apprehension. You decided that you weren’t about to touch his admission of thinking of you all the time with a ten-foot-pole, instead focusing on the rest of his sentence. He looked so broken and lost standing there so you couldn’t help but take the few steps it took to reach him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

You knew from personal experience with Tito that athletes tended to take losses personal and if you had to take a guess you were pretty sure that Mat was one of those guys that blamed himself for them as well.

At first he seemed surprised about your bold move – it was the most the two of you had ever touched so far – but he quickly caught himself, hugging you even tighter to his body. For a couple of seconds you stood just like that, simply basking in each other’s proximity.

It was as if your bodies were made for each other, your head resting perfectly in the crook of his neck. Despite probably just getting off a plane he smelled so good and you were trying to figure out if you could take a deep breath without raising any suspicions. Before you’d managed to make a decision however, he pulled away and you unfortunately had to untangle yourself from him.

“Feel free to stay as long as you want to”, you said to fill the silence, leaving out the part where you hoped he’d stay for the night as well. He simply nodded before asking where he could change into more comfortable clothes. While you were sad to see the suit go you directed him to your bedroom, glad to have taken those thirty minutes earlier to tidy up.

He returned in a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie and it took every last remaining bit of your willpower not to drool at the sight of him. Somehow he managed to look even better in sweats than he did in his custom suit, which really wasn’t fair at all.

You had to admit it was a little weird to see him in your apartment though. He’d been over a couple of times to pregame etc. but he’d never been here alone. Somehow it felt strangely intimate to have him over by himself on this Friday night. To prevent your thoughts from going to a direction they definitely shouldn’t, you asked:

“Do you want some tea? I know technically you still owe me that coffee but I’ll be generous and let you off easy this time.”

For good measure you even threw in a wink at the end and your words had the desired effect, breaking the loaded tension completely.

“You cheated! I would’ve won if you hadn’t started early”, he exclaimed but the way he was laughing showed that he was anything but butthurt about the situation.

“Mmm keep telling yourself that, it’s okay”, you kept on teasing as he followed you into your small kitchen that was definitely at maximum capacity with two people in it. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy the closeness the tight space prompted though.

With a steaming mug of tea the both of you settled onto your couch shortly after, also small enough to keep you close together. You’d been wanting to buy a bigger one for weeks, but right now you certainly didn’t mind its size.

Masochist.

“Oh I love that one, the chimpanzees are so cute”, Mat said to your surprise as he finally realized what was playing on your tv and you looked at him in utter disbelief. You certainly hadn’t pegged him for a guy that liked to watch nature documentaries but yet here he was, constantly surprising you.

“What? Documentaries are very soothing”, he defended himself and you had to laugh at the way he looked like a little kid with his floppy hair and the cute way his eyebrows had scrunched up.

“I know. That’s why I love watching them as well.”

You hadn’t exactly pictured yourself watching documentaries with him on a Friday night, something that felt way too domestic if you were being honest, but yet here you were.

As the hour grew later both Mat and you sunk further in the cushions and while you had no recollection of how exactly it had happened, your head apparently ended up on his shoulder somehow. Your only regret was that now it wasn’t as easy to sneak glances at him from time to time without him noticing. At one point he’d even wrapped his arm around you, moving both of you into a more comfortable position before covering your bodies with the fuzzy blanket and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep before you even knew it.

The soft sound of your name woke you up sometime later, you weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed but the credits of the second documentary you’d started were already rolling and you were pretty sure you’d only caught the first half of it. In your sleep you’d cuddled up even closer, your arm wrapped around Mat’s midriff and you quickly sat up, embarrassed about turning into a koala in your sleep. Maybe you could blame it on the documentary?

“Sorry for waking you but I should probably head home. Otherwise my back is going to kill me tomorrow.” His voice was a little hoarse and it was obvious that he’d fallen asleep as well, his hair now sticking up in multiple directions. You suppressed a giggle at the disheveled sight of him, instead appreciating that he let down his guard enough for you to see him that way.

“Yeah of course. I’ll show you out.”

“Thank you for tonight. It means a lot to me”, he said quietly as he stood by the door, ready to leave.

“Anytime Mat. Get home safe.” It was the first time you’d called him by his first name, after months of first calling him Barzal then Barzy and he must have noticed as well because his smile could probably make glaciers melt at this point. You weren’t even sure why you’d given up your pathetic way of distancing yourself from him – despite the fact that it was very much obvious that it wasn’t working – but to not call him Mat would feel wrong after this evening.

“Have a good night, Y/N”, he simply said, still smiling as he leaned down to kiss you on the forehead before walking out the door, leaving you speechless.

Tagging: @jamiedrysdales @nazdaddy @itrocksmysocks @yeeehaw-hockey @whitesummerx @teenagekook

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey writing #nhl players #nhl #my writing #new york islanders

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simmonsofshield · 4 years

Text

The Last Thing

Pairings: Y/N Stacy & Peter Parker

Summary: Peter is not dealing with his friend’s death very well. Loosely based on true and personal events.

Words: ~2900

Warnings: Mentions of death. Yelling. Blaming.

A/N: AU, Peter and Gwen are friends. Y/N is Gwen’s older sister. Gwen is an Avenger and has been in all the fights instead of Peter. This is for @jbbarnesnnoble‘s mental health awareness challenge. I chose “How do you even begin to move on?” It won’t be a quote, but it’ll be in bold. Takes place after Endgame.

Dear Peter,

I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’ve never been known to anyways. If you’re reading this, that means I’m either dead or in some sort of close-to-death coma, probably the former.

I’m writing this the day before I leave for Berlin. Sorry I didn’t tell you about it but Tony Stark came to me so I’m assuming it has to stay on the DL. Yeah, you read that right. Tony freaking Stark! He hasn’t told me much but I’m assuming some sort of drama with the Accords. Why he came to me and not you, I’m not sure. Maybe just because I go out more and there’s more youtube videos of me than you. Or maybe he didn’t want the “friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” He wanted someone tougher. Haha just kidding.

Anywho... back to the reason for this letter. I want you to take my place. Queens still needs someone to take care of it, and since I’m no longer around, it’s gotta be you. We were both in that lab and got bit by those radioactive spiders. Who thought making spiders radioactive was a good idea anyways? We went through all the weird hardships with these new powers together and managed without anyone finding out….except my sister. (and apparently Tony Stark.)

Speaking of Y/N, I’m putting her in your care. You are now responsible for her. I’m only kind of sorry. She’s the only one that knows about this letter.

Hopefully you don’t have to read this immediately following this impromptu trip to Berlin, or at all in 2016. Or, you know, ever. Hopefully I can grow old and retire SpiderGwen. Wait, those are two different things, let me rephrase that: hopefully I can stop saving the day around 25 and then retire when I’m old and wrinkly and burn this letter so you never have to even know it existed.

If you are reading this and made it this far, I want you to know that I believe in you. It is hard being a hero. Sometimes you have to make tough decisions, but you’re a smart guy. I know you will be great. Better than me, probably.

You’re the best basically-brother I could ever ask for. Spiderman is destined for great things. I know it.

Gwen

Present day, May 2023

When it first happened - when half the universe was brought back - Y/N came looking for Peter immediately. After that first weird day back to school, she found him..and that was weird too. She used to only be one year older than him and Gwen, and now she was clearly 6 years older than him. She’d asked if he’d seen her in class, and he said no. She covered her mouth and started crying right there. It confused him at the time, but in hindsight, he realized she knew at that moment that Gwen was dead. Her family got the call from Nick Fury himself that night.

Besides the big bad, Thanos he thinks, there were only two casualties. “Only” two on the heroes side, when there’s usually zero. They were Gwen and Tony Stark. So not only did Peter lose his best friend, he lost his idol as well, and even though he never got to meet him, it still hurts. A little. He died bringing back the half of humanity that was blipped, a truly heroic act, but Gwen died so that that could happen. She’s hardly ever mentioned in news reports or anything.

It’s been almost two months. TWO.

Peter read the letter again. He did almost once a day. The fold creases were already very worn and the page had been stained with tears many times over. He still just couldn’t believe she was actually gone. Being brought back after getting blipped was enough to deal with but now his closest friend was dead. What was the most frustrating was that he didn’t know how. He wasn’t allowed to. SHIELD classified it and only the immediate family could know. You hadn’t told him everything, but you did say something about her getting caught in some crossfire. That’s all you were allowed to say.

He sat in the stairwell of his and Aunt May’s Queens apartment while he waited for you to arrive. He was zoned out thinking and didn’t even hear you come up the stairs.

“Peter?” he snapped back to reality and looked at you, eyes sad, “you ready?”

He nodded and stood up, shoving his hands in his shorts pockets. He trudged down the stairs and met you at the landing, then walking side by side down the rest to ground level. Exiting the complex, you put your arm around his shoulders walking the already too familiar route. What had happened was still fresh and you two had decided to visit Gwen’s grave once a week, tell her what had been going on, if anything.

The first few times were okay, but recently, Peter hadn’t been saying anything. He just kneels in front of her grave, head down, and cries. You really felt for the kid, you did. His parents died when he was 6, his uncle Ben 3 years ago (since he was blipped), and now his best friend-basically-sister. He’s only 16 and has dealt with more death than anyone at that age should. How do you even begin to move on? The gaps are big, but that doesn’t make any of them hurt less. Especially when they’re all family.

After a few minutes of silent sobs, you place your hand on his shoulder. He stands up and steps aside, so you can have your time. You look at him and give him a soft smile of thanks. He looks at you for a millisecond before looking back at the ground, wiping away stray tears.

You approach her gravestone, putting your hand on it, brushing your fingers along it and tracing the letters of her name. You speak softly, as if just to her. “Gwenny, I need help. Your help. This has been hard on Peter. You were his best friend and now he just seems like a lost puppy without you around. I know he has Ned and MJ, but a big chunk of him is missing without you here,” you cough out a sob, “I just want the old Petey back. I don’t expect it tomorrow, or next week, or even next month, but I need it. I want some sort of normalcy back in my life,” your next sob comes out with a little bit of a laugh, “look at me, talking to a grave like I’m talking to an actual human. You’d totally give me crap for this.” you sigh, “It’s just-- being six years older than him now instead of just one makes it hard. We’re in such different places in our lives. He just finished his freshman year of high school, and I’m in college now...” you trail off, forgetting where you were going with it. Standing up, you give one last tap to the gravestone. “Bring him back. Oh-” You dig in your purse and pull out a charm bracelet. You crouch back down and lay it right next to the base where the grass is a little bit taller. You wear an identical one. “Mom and dad are doing fine..well, as well as you could expect. There are some rough nights, but we’re managing.”

Emotions were still running high at home. You’d lost your sister, and your parents, their youngest child. There was a lot of fighting and blaming, despite heroism being Gwen’s choice. She’d told you once that she’d been given the powers for a reason. If bad things happened and she did nothing, it was basically her fault. You never really agreed with the sentiment, but she insisted and went on helping out the people of Queens, eventually roping Peter into it.

A lot of the time the blame fell on you, your father wondering why you weren’t with Gwen and Peter the day they got bit. You take it, as it’s his way of mourning and relieving his anger. He’s looking for answers that he’ll never get. Your mom is mostly silent, save for the fights. You two usually end up drinking a bottle or two of wine before tottling off to bed, drowning your sorrows.

The walk back is silent, as usual. You were both mourning and it was always emotionally draining after a visit and hard to make conversation. You’re about 2/3 of the way back before you decide to try. “I, uh, noticed you had the letter in the stairwell.” You feel a shift and see as his hand goes to his pocket. “Pete, why?” You sigh, not in disappointment, mostly in exhaustion but a little bit of curiosity too.

He looks down, an exhale coming from his nose, “It’s the last thing I have of her.”

You let out a soft gasp. That hadn’t even crossed your mind, it was the last physical thing Gwen had touched and given - by way of you - to him. “Oh, Petey.” You run your fingers through his hair a few times before letting your arm rest limply over his shoulders. He pushes it off, stopping in his tracks and looks at you with an expression you don’t recognize. He mumbles something and you stop waking as well, leaning forward a little. “Peter?”

“Tony did this.”

“To-”

“Tony Stark! He’s the one who recruited her. He’s the one that put her on this path.” he paces back and forth in anger. “If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be a part of the Avengers and she wouldn’t be dead.”

“Peter...” you know what he’s doing. In fact, you went through and did the same thing just a couple weeks ago. “You know he’s not to blame. She’s the one who wanted to help the community, just like you,” you reasoned, “it was only a matter of time before she caught the eye of the Avengers.”

He ignored you, turning on his heels. “I need to talk to him.”

“Y-you can’t. Peter..” you stand there, stunned for a moment, “Peter.” you call out. He doesn’t respond and you quickly move from your place on the sidewalk and jog a little to try to catch up. You forgot how quickly he could walk when he was on a mission. “Peter!”

“What?!” he turns around, fire in his eyes. You actually cower a little, never hearing this tone come out of his mouth before.

“Uhm..” your voice is meek at first as you try to figure out what to say and recover from the surprise his outburst gave you, “you can’t go talk to Tony.”

“And why not?”

“He,” you swallow the lump in your throat, speaking softly not out of fear now, but to bring down the information as delicately as you could, “he died that night too. Remember?”

He blinks and there seems to be a flicker of remembrance and realization. It quickly changes back to anger and he looks you dead in the eyes, pointing. “Then it’s your fault!”

“W-what?”

“Yeah. You’re the one that let her go to Berlin. She would’ve listened to you. If you had told her no, she wouldn’t have gone. It’s your fault!” he continues pointing his finger at you, his voice rising as he talked. You hadn’t even realized you were moving until you were suddenly backed into the wall of a corner store, or maybe a restaurant, you didn’t really take the time to figure out where you were on the street.

You could feel your breath beginning to shallow the more he talked. You had no idea what was going to happen, and with him being enhanced, he was unpredictable. “Peter...” was all you could muster up, hoping just saying his name would somehow take him out of this trance he was in. It didn’t work and if you hadn’t looked down to look away from his face, you wouldn’t have noticed his other hand beginning to ball into a fist. Your eyes widened and you looked back at him, tears threatening to fall. “Peter, please.”

It didn’t phase him. “It’s your fault!” he yells and you see his fist rise and you dodge out of the way in the nick of time, now in a crouched position.

You hear his fist connect with the wall, “Fuck!” Under different circumstances, you’d be surprised and sarcastically scold him because you’ve never heard him swear, ever. At the moment though, you’re now seated against the wall, breathing hard and tears falling silently.

“Y/N?” He crouches down and puts a hand on your shoulder, which you slink away from. At this point, as if it were a movie, mother nature decided it had to rain. All you hear is the soft pattering of the rain on the sidewalk for a moment before you hear some soft whimpering. You look around, and see a few feet from you, Peter sitting and hugging his knees, head down.

You stand up, and walk over to him, not announcing your presence in any way, and sit next to him. Taking his hand in yours, you begin inspecting his knuckles. “You’re lucky you have super strength. Otherwise that wall would have done a number on your hand. More than just some scratches and it looks like probably some bruising.” The only reply you get is some breathy sobs. “Okay,” keeping his hand in yours, you stand up and urge him up too, “let’s get you home.”

He doesn’t argue and slowly begins to walk home, with your aid. Your arm is once again around his shoulders and he doesn’t push it away this time. The whole walk back is silent, as expected. The both of you now more tired than before, physically and emotionally.

When you arrive back at Peter’s apartment, you enter, May leaving it unlocked. She’s on the couch watching tv. She turns around with a smile to greet you guys, but it quickly turns to a frown when she sees the state the two of you are in. You see her mouth open about to ask a question and you shake your head. She closes it and stands, walking over to Peter’s bedroom door and opening it for the two of you. You nod a thank you and walk in.

Peter still seems to be in a daze when you sit him down at his desk. You scan his room looking for a towel, seeing clothes and books strewn about, assuming he ‘lost’ his backpack again. “Well, I see you have a project for tomorrow,” you try to joke, despite the fact that you began picking up his clothes and putting them in the hamper in his closet. You hear a soft hmm? and look over at him. He’s looking at you, eyes red but only a little puffy.

You finally find his bath towel, halfway under his bed. Picking it up, you shake it a couple times to get any dust bunnies off and walk over to him. You can feel his eyes on you as you dry the rain off his arms and legs, but you continue. You dab off his neck and rub his hair a few times, getting as much off as you can before moving to his face. He jerks away and wipes his forehead with his arm before looking at you, as if studying you. You sit back a little, unsure, wondering what he’s going to do.

He takes a deep breath like he’s trying to gather the courage to speak to you. It takes a couple more seconds before he does. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh Peter,” you coo softly, “it’s okay.”

He slaps his hand on his desk, “No it’s not!” seeing you jump, he realized what he did, “s-sorry.” he says barely above a whisper.

“It’s not,” you agree, “but you’re mourning. I’m going through the same thing at home. You know this. I can take a few angry words.”

“But I blamed you, tried to hurt you.”

You nod, “I will admit I was a little scared when you tried to hit me,” he looks down, scared to make eye contact, “but,” you use your finger to lift his chin, “I got out of the way and you didn’t. Guess I gotta thank Gwen for taking me to some of those self defense classes so I could help her train.” You say the last part with a smile.

For what you’re pretty sure is the first time that night, Peter smiles too. You use your hand and wipe away the remaining tears on his face. “There he is.”

You get up on your knees, about to stand up, when he pulls you into a hug. You let out at squeak of surprise but quickly melt into it. Then, you suddenly begin to cry.

“Y/N?” he doesn’t pull out of the hug but you can hear the concern in his voice.

You sniffle and wipe away your tears, letting out a kind of cry-laugh. “I’m just glad, that at least for tonight, you’re back to the Peter that I know. I’ve missed your smile.” You feel him hug you a little tighter.

For Avory

#JBBNNMHAMChallenge #Peter Parker x reader #(platonic yall)#peter parker & reader #gwen stacy #spiderman #spider man #spider-man #spidergwen #spider gwen #peter parker

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sketchy-saram · 4 years

Text

Wanted to write something, so since I had Kiwren on the brain, I opted for their first meeting! Wren comes face-to-face with a harsh truth, and she doesn’t take it well...however, as a result, she will fall onto another path to happily-ever-after. ☀️

Can you actually die from a broken heart? Wren wondered, as the pain from hers caused her to clutch at her chest with one hand. The other was shoved against her mouth, so that her sobs were muffled from beyond the stable doors. It hurt. It hurt more than anything she had ever felt in eighteen years. Even when everyone told her it was impossible, even when they’d almost forbidden her feelings, that had only been a fraction of this pain she felt now.

She wanted to slide down the wood of the stall; to curl up into a ball and disappear into the floor. She wished she had never come here in the first place, but what then? That wouldn’t make it any less true.

Maybe it hurt--maybe it was killing her--but at least she knew. Wren hated to feel like a fool, and the idea that he might think she was one added just another layer to her utter misery.

She couldn’t stay there, that much was obvious. Who knew when they would come in from the paddock and notice her? There was no way she could talk to them; not like this, not now. If he saw her like this, she might die for real, she thought. And while there was some solace in that idea, the horror of it won out and had her scrubbing off her face and adjusting her clothes. A quick glance assured her that no one was standing near the front of the barn and so, clutching her sketchbook to her chest, Wren made her way down the cobbled path back to the large gates of Vesuvia’s palace grounds.

No one stopped her, and, she hoped, no one looked too close at her splotchy skin or red-rimmed eyes. Stray tears spilled over every time her focus slipped, allowing an errant thought of him to sneak in, scattering her emotions all over again like children tossing rocks at precariously-stacked milk bottles. Her eyes stung from the salt, her sleeves wet from mopping up her face. The sun was high in the noon-time sky, making her sweaty and more miserable as she nodded at the gate-guards on duty.

They nodded back without looking twice. Maybe they charitably blamed her appearance on the heat.

Once she was at the bottom of the steps, back into Vesuvia proper, she realized she had no idea where to go or what to do next. There didn’t seem to be any ideas for what should happen now, and there was no one she could talk to who hadn’t made it clear that this was the way it ought to be. There was never meant to be a ‘them’--they were cousins, no matter that they weren’t blood-related--and that was the end of that. Mom, Dad, Felix. All of them told her again and again that she needed to let go of these feelings. That she was young, and they would fade with time.

She hated that.

Am I so young that I don’t know what my own feelings are? she thought vehemently, but that anger dissolved quickly as her bottom lip trembled, more tears threatening to spill forth. And now she was in the Heart District, and there were people passing all around, and someone was bound to take notice of her if she broke down sobbing in the streets. She would look dirty and sweaty and poor; shabby against all the finery of this classiest district, and they would whisper about her.

Even the thought was a nightmare.

And so she refused to let herself think about anything as she forced herself to walk, marching numbly through the streets like a mannequin given life. No thoughts. No feelings. Only action, with one directive: and, as the day was beginning to hit evening, she arrived at her vague destination.

The Rowdy Raven.

The Raven wasn’t exactly a classy joint, but she breathed a sigh of relief being in the South End where the people wouldn’t jeer at her rumpled appearance. If anything, she was probably dressed too *neatly* for the Raven, but that would assume most of the patrons weren’t already three or four Salty Bitters into the night and remained capable of seeing clearly.

At last, with a reluctantly-bought mug of the stuff in hand, Wren settled into a seat in the back, where the sheer adrenaline began to wear off again in favor of the painful thud in her chest that reminded her she was still alive, and still capable of feeling this loss.

He never even knew how I felt about him, she thought, her face falling into her hands as it crumpled again, her shoulders shuddering under the weight of emotion. The music, a live ensemble of only-slightly-drunk South-Enders who happened to own instruments, drowned out some of the sounds of her sorrow. The drunkenness of those around her handled the rest. I never even got the chance to tell him. Would it have made a difference? That was part of what killed her, the scene replaying in her mind.

Walking into the stable, breathless from hurrying, eager to show off some new drawings. Looking around, confused, wondering where he was. He was always at the stables this time of day. Almost calling out as she started to step outside--then seeing them. A smile starting across her face, and then falling steeply as she realized he was with someone. A gorgeous someone, with miles of summer-sun blonde hair, blue eyes, apricot-tan skin, and curves for days. She stepped back into the shadow of the barn, afraid that they might have noticed; afraid that they wouldn’t notice. That they were trapped in a private world all their own. Seeing how happy they looked together. How natural. The way she gently wrapped an arm around his waist; the way he had to lean down from his tall height, an embarrassed-yet-pleased flush on his face as he pressed lips to the top of her head. Wren couldn’t look away; she stared with intensity at this intimate display even though she didn’t want to. Even though it felt wrong to spy on something so tender. The only sound in her ears was the blood rushing through them, and the heavy sound of her heart dropping and crumbling into her stomach.

All of that played across her closed eyes again and again, vividly re-lived, and she felt her heart break at the end every time like it was the first.

It isn’t fair, she thought between hiccupping sobs, how can he love her? How can he know he likes her when he doesn’t know about me? I could be...I could have been the one. He doesn’t know.

At some point, her cup was empty, and without paying much attention, someone came by her table to refill it. That happened a few more times, and suddenly it hurt less. Her stomach hurt more, but that was a preferable pain. When she finally stood up, everything ached from crying, and her vision blurred a bit. Maybe one too many Salty Bitters, but numbing the pain helped her to think. As she stepped out into the night air, she felt refreshed.

She had also come up with a plan.

It was a good plan, she thought; by the time she had reached South End Market, empty now in the dead of night, she was convinced it was a great plan. She would go home now and pack, and the next day she was going to run away. Well. ‘Run away’ made it sound juvenile and petty. She wasn’t going to run away, per say. She was an adult! She was moving on with her life, somewhere else. Away from Vesuvia, and the palace, and those stables.

She would go somewhere far--maybe Venterre, or Zadith, or even Prakra!--and start fresh. She’d find a job as a tailor’s apprentice, or a seamstress, and she would work her way up. She’d find someone to show her sketches to who would appreciate her design talent, and she would become the fashion designer for someone important. They would debut her clothes to the whole world, and then at last Wren would finally become the kind of woman he had always seemed to admire--someone elegant, poised, commanding and beautiful. Someone rich, someone with standing. Someone who was somebody.

That thought occupied and comforted her as she cut through the market, but her drunken mind missed a step, and in the dark she went spilling across the dirt and stone of the square, her sketchbook falling open and pictures flying every which-way.

It hurt, she knew, but the indignity of the whole day hurt worse. Wasn’t there anything that could go her way? Cut her some slack? Hadn’t the world dealt her a harsh enough blow for one lifetime? She wanted to cry again, but she didn’t have time to do more than whimper at her scratched-up knees and palms before she had to jump up, chasing her pictures before they could be blown away.

As inebriated as she was, it was a struggle--the sketchbook pages spun away from her, and more than once she had to stop and hold her head to keep from feeling like she was falling off the surface of the world. Snot and tears ran down her face, and were smudged with blood and dirt and she frantically tried to brush the hair from her face as it escaped from her braid. At last she had secured all but one of the pictures, but that one was a doozy--the late-night summer breeze had picked it up and carried it up into the thatch of a rooftop, where there was no way Wren, at all of five-foot-nine, was going to be able to reach it.

She knew she should just give up. A small, tired voice of reason stamped its foot and screamed that at her from the back of her mind even as she stumbled around, dragging a box from an alley and arranged it underneath the eaves of the building. It wasn’t quite enough, so she huffed and puffed to drag over one more milk crate and a mostly-empty wine cask, hoisting them up onto the box with no small amount of effort. By this point her stomach heaved dangerously, but she was so close…

And so Wren climbed up the box. She scrambled up the crate and barrel, her hands walking over themselves as she used the wall for support. She stretched out one arm...and was still just out of reach. She bit her lip, her mouth dry, and stretched on her toes. The sketch fluttered, as if taunting her, and she let out a curse and stretched out further.

Almost…

And then she felt a tug as her shoe snagged the edge of her skirt.

She wobbled, violently jerking to right herself, and she felt her precarious tower pitch over in response. Throwing out her hands, she tried to grab the eave of the roof, but it slipped through her grasping fingers.

Then...there was the sensation of falling into something solid. Not like a body hitting the ground, but instead, Wren felt two extremely sturdy arms practically pluck her from the air like a ragdoll, swinging her up and out of the way of the clattering mess of barrels and boxes. It reminded her, oddly enough, of the sensation she used to get when her father would swing her over his head when she was a toddler, pretending that she was a bird flying through the sky.

“Fly, Ren! Fly!” he would say, chuckling all the while, as her mother stood in the doorway of their cabin quarters, shaking her head but smiling. Then mom would wave her hand and do the magic, and both Wren and her father would suddenly be floating through the air, weightless and free and laughing.

“--you okay? Hey, can you hear me? Did you hit your head, or…?” vaguely, Wren was aware of someone talking to her; that her feet had touched solid ground again, but she couldn’t seem to do much more than loll her head upwards to blink at whoever it was. She didn’t recognize the brawny, muscular man with a face full of freckles that was staring down at her in concern. She opened her mouth to reassure him that she was fine…

...And promptly bent forward, vomiting all over the street.

I hate salty bitters, she thought as she did; they burn even worse coming back up than they do going down.

It was her last conscious thought, for which she was exceedingly grateful. She had, quite frankly, had enough of that day to last a lifetime.

#the arcana next generation #writing #fanfiction #my writing #kiwren #Wren #Kiran #wren devorak #my oc #other peoples ocs #meet cute anyone?#LOL #my art #doodle #long post

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dreams-of-valeria · 4 years

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Could it be F1 and A1 but like maybe the reader and hopper have an age gap so the reader parents are almost (but they are not... or they are ? Idk that’s up to you lol) the same age as hopper therefore there’s this kind of tension??? And hopper being kind of clumsy at the cake ? Sorry if I am asking too much, tbh your prompts got me exited!

@may85 asked:

Sooooooo can I please request A1 and F10 together? F10 being that the readers parents are complete shit and giving reader a hard time about Hop being late. Pllleassee!? 🥰🥰

In the midst of winter

F1: Baking a cake together

F10: Requester's choice

A1: Late for Christmas dinner with Reader's parents

Pairing: Jim Hopper × Younger female reader

A/N: Merry Christmas and thank you so much for your kind words! I’ve clubbed both of your requests together because as you can see, they are essentially the same but I’ve made sure to give them some individuality and I really hope you like it!

Warnings: Ok so this turned out to be a little darker than I expected and includes mentions of abuse and crying but it’s nothing our favourite Chief can’t handle. Age gap.

Word count: 3,067

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The old clock on the wall taunted you with every plock, demanding your attention between every bite of the bread you were working down just to keep your mouth busy.

The alternative would be to make conversation with the two severely conservative, stuck up and judgy people you knew as your parents. But unlike that moment, your childhood didn’t consist of you swimming in bread, although it had always been your favorite.

Your eyes drifted anywhere but over them sitting across from you at the table, and rather flew over the spread you had spent all day making. Gingerbread, ham, mashed potatoes, roasted green beans and carrots, sugar cookies, cake batter on the counter and a stuffed chicken because the store had run out of turkeys the night of Christmas Eve. The festive season was surely joyous and mesmerizing, but also meant you had to work tirelessly to a goal you had set for yourself, and could barely accomplish when your parents had arrived an hour early; just so they’d have extra time to pick at how untidy your apartment was, how old your simple black dress looked, and how you were wasting your life working as a writer at local newspaper. Which, they had added rather graphically the people of Hawkins only used to wipe their unmentionables. And that was even before they got to the pièce de resistance.

They had always been elitist and looked down upon the humble families just trying to survive and make it in a capitalist country, especially the folks of a small town, which was part of the reason you had moved to Hawkins, Indiana. The lion’s share was because you just had to get away.

The pleasant dream of having a small, homely Christmas dinner with Hopper had been shattered by that one phone call last night, of how your parents had caught wind that you’d found someone for yourself from your sister.

Becky hadn’t told them on purpose, of course. Unlike your parents, she didn’t see anything wrong with you dating a 40-year-old man especially when you were finally, truly happy. In fact, her only folly had been to leave the postcard you had sent her out on the counter, and naturally, your nosy parents had found out. Strangely, it had been Hopper’s idea to dress both of you up in all red for the photograph and send Christmas postcards out to everyone you knew. He wasn’t very generically forthcoming but did have certain ways to show affection.

Including offering to cook dinner with you. You smiled when you remembered, how only last night he had taken you in his arms after the phone call and calmed you down until your panic attack had passed. ‘We can figure it out’, he’d said, brushing your hair lovingly. You missed feeling that sense of warmth and safety in his arms.

You didn’t feel even an iota of that warmth and safety in your own apartment and surrounded by the people you’d known ever since you were born. But knowing and loving were two completely different things, you’d realised, a little too late in your life. The moment you did, you were on a bus heading south.

But now there was nowhere to run. They were there to meet your boyfriend, and like he had said, you just had to get through it. Pull off the bandaid. You wished Hopper wasn’t late, that he was there to defend you from the comments or offer comfort with his hand on the small of your back, but he was late, fighting crime. Typical.

Unlike in your parents’ case, you found that to be endearing. Even if he was forced to let you cook dinner alone.

“It’s been a while,” commented your mother, pulling her blazer’s sleeve back down over her diamond wristwatch. She was studded all over with stones, and they made your eyes hurt from the glare. You swallowed the bread and the lump down your throat and tried to smile.

“Like I said, he’s the Chief of police and must be busy with work.”

“On Christmas Eve? Did someone lose a cow or something?” Your father laughed, a balding bespectacled man who outshone his better half only in contempt.

“We’re not all mindless, farming hillbillies, dad.” You sighed, taking a sip from the wine, but reminding yourself not to drink too much. Drowning your sorrows in alcohol had worked before, but right then, it would only work in your parents’ favor. Just another reason to find a flaw in you.

“Of course not, dear. You’re not one of them.” Rebutted your dad, keeping it civil but his eyes spoke otherwise. Appearances meant everything to them, but you could never forget that look in their eyes that spoke more than those golden words ever did.

“Them are people too you know? Like Jim, my boyfriend.” You smiled, rubbing it in. It was a rarity for you to have the upper hand when it came to irking your parents, and you were not going to let this go. Your father sighed, and you could see that he was taking deep breaths to keep the civility going. Deep down, you wished he would break. You could feel a storm brewing, but it was no reason to let Jim bear witness to it. Provided that he made it in time.

“Of course.” He gritted his teeth but soon eased up. “All we’re saying is, it’s rude to be late to dinner. Especially when you spent all day cooking.”

You opened your mouth in reflex to counter but then listened to his words. Really listened. There were no double entendres or veiled insults. That made you even more suspicious.

”We just want what’s best for you, y/n.” He smiled and your mother mirrored him, and you looked between them like a deer in headlights. What sort of game were they playing? There had to be a game.

“And it’s never too late to make the right decision–” Your mother started off, and you interrupted her with an exasperated sigh.

“I knew it,” you chuckled grimly. “You’re just here to try to talk me out of my relationship.”

“What relationship?” Your father spat suddenly, and the timber of his voice made you shudder. There it was. “You are a child, and that jerk is just forcing you to–”

The door clicked open behind you and heavy footsteps gushed in, along with a gust of frozen air. All eyes went to the hallway and landed on the man of the hour, all bundled up in a parka and boots and huffing heavy breaths, probably from running up the three flights of stairs.

He scanned the room and pursed his lips. “H-hey.”

He was terrible at meeting new people. But that was the least of your concerns. You went up to him with an automatic smile on your face despite the circumstances and helped get his parka off.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, a car had tipped over on Maple street and it took forever for the fire engine to get there and I had to wait, baby, there were kids inside–”

“It’s ok.” You assured him with a smile, holding his face in your hands briefly, knowing you had an audience. An especially judgy one.

On that note, he approached the table with a smile and drew his arm across to the seated guests.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Brown, I’m Jim–”

“Ms. Brown.” You mother corrected, eyeing him sharply. You went up behind him and rest your hand on his back, as a form of apology. You knew already you’d be doing a lot of that later.

“My apologies, Ms. Brown. And also for being late. It’s great to meet you.” You could hear the smile in his voice despite the curt way in which they shook his hand.

“Likewise, Jim.” Your father’s jaw clenched. “Now, shall we eat before you get called into duty again?”

Hopper forced a chuckle and you could hear it. He took his seat by you, not excusing himself to change out of his uniform or splash some water on his face like he usually did before dinner. He knew that no matter how much you mouthed off about them, there was still something there, and he respected that enough not to drag it out longer than it had to be and to take whatever they threw at him. It warmed your heart that he would do that for you, but at the same time, you wished he wouldn’t.

“It smells amazing, y/n.” Jim smiled on your right, squeezing your knee gently. You looked into his tired eyes and smiled back. He meant the world to you. Would they ever see that?

“Do you cook, Jim?” Asked your father as he served himself some vegetables, beating you to it. You sighed and served the potatoes to your mother, yourself and Jim.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Brown–thank you, sweetheart–unless you count microwave dinners.” He laughed in that deep, rumbling voice as he scooped some potatoes onto his spoon.

“I don’t.” Snapped your father, watching him intently as he chewed. “So this is what your … relationship is like? My daughter cooks for you and you don’t even help out–”

“I like cooking for him.” You interrupted, making louder noises with the cutlery than needed. You used to get reprimanded for that too.

Jim gently rubbed your thigh. “I meant to get here earlier, but my job–”

“So if God forbid something happened to y/n late at night, you’d be on Maple street, correct?”

“I bet you’d love if something happened to me, wouldn’t you, mom?” You hissed, stuffing your mouth with the potatoes. They were overcooked. Damn it.

“Please don’t be a martyr, y/n.” She scoffed.

“How could I be when you steal the show, mom?” You snapped and watched her jaw drop. That had never happened before.

“Y/n! That is not how you speak to your mother. Apologize.” You could see the perspiration on your father’s forehead already, and the next level would be his vein throbbing. Some part of you wanted to push him further.

“No, I’m good. Honey, could you pass the ham?” You asked Hopper, and it took him a second to blink and realize you were talking to him. He did as asked with a slight frown as he watched you closely.

You could feel your father’s eyes burn holes through you a while longer before he wordlessly returned to his dinner. You’d nailed the ham. That Jacques Pepin really knew what he was doing.

“If we knew this was how it was going to be, we’d never had flown up.” Your father said passive-aggressively, attacking the poor ham with his knife. “Thought we could just visit our daughter for Christmas …”

“Don’t pretend like that’s all you’re here for, dad.” You rubbed your fingers over your eyes, feeling moisture come back.

“Well, of course, it’s not! We paired you up with the most perfect man!” He exploded, and you were surprised he could hold it in for as long as he did. Of course, he would bring up the lowest point in your life.

“Oh, Gerald?” You scoffed, watching his vein pop. Hopper shifted uncomfortably, arms ready to interrupt if it came to that. He knew everything about your past.

“Yes, Gerald! He went to Yale! He’s going to be a doctor, y/n.” Your father cried, eyebrows furrowed in a rage. Like you had stabbed him in the back. Your mind imploded with the overwhelming memories and seemed to grip at your chest painfully. You could feel another attack coming.

“He … hurt me.” Your voice cracked, and Jim’s arm came around your shoulders.

“So you say!” Your mother dropped her cutlery, leaning forward in a rage. “He is a good boy but of course you would find faults with him, y/n–”

“He hurt me …” you gasped for breath as your voice quivered, feeling the tears track down your face. “ … every. Day.” Jim’s other arm had come around your front and held you tight, but somehow it made you feel better. The weight on your chest was getting lighter with his touches, as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“Oh, I remember the lies, y/n. And that you ran away. And all for what? Him?” Your father spat, pointing at Hopper. His arms around you froze, and you followed.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve marred the Brown family name? Dating a damn divorcee who’s twice your age in the middle of Godforsaken nowhere?” He rasped, as his entire face turned red.

“What do you want me to do, dad?” You pleaded, throwing him another lifeline. You were stupid to hope, but that was who you were. “You want me to leave the man who loves me for who I am and finally makes me happy and go back to the one you two approve of? Even if he beats me up?”

You gazed at your parents through tears with a sincere question, still waiting like a fool for them to prove you right.

“Gerald would never do that.” Your father sighed, cleaning his glasses to the end of the table cloth, before looking up at you. There was nothing behind those eyes. “But, yes.”

And there it was.

You knew the moment you’d received that phone call that was the reason they were flying down. Not to check on their younger daughter who couldn’t do anything right with her life, or wouldn’t stay with the abuser her own parents had chosen for her right out of college to marry. But still, you dreamed that they were coming to see how you were doing, to meet Jim and maybe playfully threaten him to take care of you or to tell you that no matter what choices you made or who you were, that they were with you. That they loved and supported you.

You scoffed, realizing that that moment was the final nail in the coffin. You had long abandoned your dream of seeking your parents’ approval, but this was the end. You’d found a new dream already, and Jim would not make you chase him or point out your flaws. And you were completely and gratefully in love with him. And that was enough.

You gazed up at his face, at his still tired eyes and haphazard hair, but also at the overwhelming love in his eyes as he asked you repeatedly if you were alright. He was more than enough.

You smiled at him before turning back to them.

“Well, if I’m such a dishonor to the family name, maybe I shouldn’t have it anymore.” You said, straightening up in your seat as Hopper released you, but still kept his hand on your chair.

They looked up at you slowly, until they said almost at the same time, “What?”

“You heard me. And I think you should get going before the snow comes in.” You pulled your chair back and stood to your feet, watching them expectantly.

They seemed confused, and stared up at you with slack jaws until he said, “You’re kicking us out?”

“Perceptive aren’t you, father?” You mocked, and that seemed to do it. They hastily got to their feet and shuffled around to the hallway, grumbling as they put their coats on.

“You remember this moment when you turned your own family away, y/n. When you come begging back to us.”

“Jim treats me more like family than you two ever did. And if I do come back, it’ll be as Y/N Hopper.” You said, before closing the door after them. Their startled faces were etched into your mind as you walked back into the kitchen, wiping the remnant tears from your face.

“Honey?” Jim called hesitantly from behind you but paused in the kitchen when he saw you at the counter, throwing your apron on.

“You promised you’d help, Chief. Get your apron,” You smiled at him warmly through the tears as you uncovered the half mixed cake batter in the bowl. Hopper cautiously threw the apron on as he watched you, washing your hands before dousing them into the yellow batter.

“I’m sure we have a whisk, sweetheart.” He said, tucking some loose hair behind your ears.

“No, it’s better this way,” you smiled like you didn’t just cut off ties with your parents.

“You wanna talk about it?” Hopper asked in as gentle a voice as he could, eyeing the raisins in a bowl. He didn’t like raisins in his cake.

“I’m good. Could you pass the vanilla, please?” You asked, pointing your eyes to the small vial by the oven. He did as you asked, and you could still feel his eyes on him.

“The raisins, too.” You asked, but Jim didn’t spring into action this time. You entered a staredown, one where you looked at him expectantly, and he pleaded with his eyes. You gave in with a chuckle. He could be so adorable sometimes.

“Alright, but just this once.” You conceded, and he hovered behind you, laying a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your hair this time. You paused the mixing and sighed, smiling as his arms wrapped around you again. That one ounce of doubt disappeared when you were in his arms again, and bliss replaced it.

“I love you too,” you declared, turning your face to kiss him. Jim was chaste this time and let you off with a peck, lending that moment more gooey-ness than the batter. And it only increased when he slid his fingers down your arms and into the bowl, kneading along with you.

“What are you doing?” You chuckled, leaning back into him. He was your pillar in more ways than one. You were grateful for him every day, starting with the day you’d met him at the newspaper office when he’d wanted some ‘intel’. You’d found out days later that it was all made up and the only reason he was there, was for you.

“Helping.” He hummed, kissing your cheek as his fingers intertwined with yours and straightened out the batter, and Jim Hopper was kind enough to lend the same favor to you.

And that was more than enough.

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper #chief hopper x reader #stranger things #fanfiction #hopper x reader #hopper x you #chief hopper #hopper family #hopper imagine #hopper × oc #anon asks #christmas #hopper angst #hopper fluff #david harbour #christmas writing prompts

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spideywars · 4 years

Text

tell me the world’s alright

chapter four; flux

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

words: 5.6k

warnings: none

summary:

After the blip and everyone including you disappeared, you realized that things weren’t as safe as you thought. Even under your father’s iron wing, you knew the world was going to be a very dangerous place.

last chapter

“Have you started packing yet?” Pepper’s voice chimes in your ears as you sit at your desk. You’re working on some paperwork that’s needed at the lab for your co-op job. You look up, blinking towards the door to see her leaning against the frame.

“I leave in two months, I’ve got time.” You shrug her question off and hear Pepper chuckle lightly as you try to focus yourself back into your work. It’s a hint that you wanted to be left alone, but your mom makes her way into the room, settling herself on your bed.

“What?” You ask with the smallest smile across your face. You didn’t push her away, knowing she never did this unless something was really bugging her.

It took Pepper a bit, her eyes scanning along the four walls of the room until they finally landed on you. She looked almost guilty, and you raised a brow at her expression.

“Why don’t you go to your father’s opening night for his tech?”

Her words barely came out of her mouth before you were letting out a loud sigh and shaking your head. You didn’t want to fight, but you thought you made it clear that this was something you didn’t want to be apart of anymore.

“Mom I can’t, I’m sorry. I love dad, but you know he’s showing my design and I don’t need to be near that right now.” It’s been two years and that project still haunts you, and you’d rather forget about the blood, sweat, and tears that the suit caused you while you were sixteen years old.

“Avoiding your past doesn’t fix anything, I can promise you that.” Pepper’s words are solid and she stares at you with intention in her eyes. She has married a man who never takes a step back in life, and she’s probably sat down hundreds of times with Tony, saying the same words.

“I just don’t want to get angry at him again or make him feel like he needs to owe me anything while I’m there.” You shrug, trying to give pathetic excuses after excuses to try and place some kind of sanity inside your mother’s head. “It’s his night, he can tell me all about it when he gets back next week.”

Pepper is still staring at you and radiating the same disappointment with the way her lips were formed into a tight line. But she didn’t retaliate, instead, she got up from your bed and walked over to brush her hand through your hair.

Her nails felt good, scratching at your scalp and grounding you back to earth. It soothed away all the stress that’s been clotting your mind for weeks since you got accepted to a University in LA. It’s been non-stop of thinking about what to pack, who to tell, where to stay.

You did need time off, a little getaway from all the stress before you were back to putting on scrubs daily. Being apart of disease control as your future has its ups and downs, and unfortunately, you had to ditch the idea of being fashionable.

“Think about it a little more, I’m taking a flight tomorrow afternoon.” She steps away, releasing her hold on you and walking out of your room. You watch her as she disappears and allows the door to close.

A loud breath escapes your lips when you’re left in the drowning silence. You have been ignoring the past, dodging any memories that threaten to come back up to the surface of your brain. Being a sixteen-year-old girl madly in love as well as being a genius inventor was something that didn’t mix well with the last name Stark. That’s why it could never work out, your love life and your inventing days.

And that’s why you’re here now, as an eighteen-year-old girl ready to become a doctor to save lives the normal human way instead of becoming something she knew would end in her being six feet under instead.

It’s not like you woke up and changed your mind, god, after that night with Peter you never cried, screamed, and yelled so much in your life. You wanted to start a riot against your father, defile his orders and become his living nightmare. Your blood was boiling for a good month, seeing his face made your hands tighten into fists.

But life went on, you got over Peter and your grudge for Tony and decided that you weren’t going to live life properly if you held onto the past. All that mattered was your future now, and that’s why there are empty boxes littered around your bedroom and ready to get stuffed. You’ve at least gone as far as taking a sharpie to them and titling them either ‘Uni’ or 'storage.’

But it’s funny how your motto is contradicting itself at this very moment. How you’re refusing to go and support your father and his show. Yea, don’t live in the past but your invention was going to be staring you right in the eyes on its display. You just know is going to be on a mannequin just like it was the first time you walked downstairs to see your father working on it and begging for a partnership.

It’ll hurt too much, and the last thing you want is to ruin your father’s big day.

The time struck midnight on your desk, flashing red and illuminating your face. It was time for bed, but something inside you knew you’d be staring up at the ceiling eating yourself alive with thoughts about getting on that damned jet the next day.

Knocking awoke you. Your eyes blinked opened and were met with sunlight shining through your curtains. It made you squint and roll over so your back was to it, now feeling the sun-rays hit your back warmly. Your mind was a constant cycle of thoughts the whole night, just like you had predicted. Now, you’re paying for it with the way your lids felt like they weighed a hundred pounds and your limbs stayed glued to your mattress.

The knocking continued, not planning to stop anytime soon. You were almost ready to bury your head between the pillow and the mattress before the door opened. It was Pepper.

“You know, I try to give you your space but when you don’t answer for the tenth knock, I say I’m free to open the door.” Pepper gives you a small smile, walking towards the balcony doors and allowing her hands to swipe open the curtains. Now the light was blinding, even from where your back was turned from it.

You forced yourself up to lean against your headboard, obviously sleeping wasn’t happening now.

Pepper’s body was almost just a silhouette, becoming nothing against the sun that shone towards you. You looked beautiful, all dolled up in new fancy velvet suit and her hair in loose curls. She was ready to go, and you were her last stop before she was off to the airport.

“Yes.” You say, without her even asking. You knew it was coming, the way her arms were folded across her chest and how her eyes widened towards you, begging ever so softly.

“Yes?” Pepper almost stuttered, her arms drop to her sides as she stepped towards you. It almost made you chuckle, how floored she looked. But hey, you really did need this trip. That suit was your last mini hurdle over the past you needed to get over. Maybe after this, you can sprint your way to your best possible future with no setbacks.

“Do you want me to change my mind?” You had to play with her, laughing when her face fell. In response, you just swung your legs onto the floor and jumped up to get ready.

“I-I’ll go tell the driver you’re coming, meet me down there in two minutes okay?” It’s almost like a switch turned on in your mother’s head, her feet moving forward and a smile appearing across her face. She made it halfway across the room before she stopped to place your cheeks into her palms. You were forced to look into her eyes, just for a few seconds to exchange smiles before she pressed a wet lipstick kiss to your cheek before disappearing out of your room.

You never realized how thankful your mom would be, seeing you come with her. Maybe you actually won’t regret this decision.

That feeling won’t come, the doubt, you know that as you pack your bags and grab your coat from the back of the door, rushing down the stairs to meet Pepper who’s standing in the middle of the front hallway. There isn’t any tightness in your chest, no jitters that send a shockwave through your body. Your steps get closer to the car, then the plane, and then into your seat. No bad feelings, nothing but pride.

It’s those damned emotions, the ones that make you push it all away and bottle them up tight to save yourself nights of tears and days of sorrow. You were so scared of feeling so incredibly in pain again that you became a stranger to your own feelings, it’s almost like you ripped your own heart out so you couldn’t feel a pulse anymore. As if that made you feel like you could live your life better.

You were wrong. That’s clear as day now as you feel the plane lift off the ground. Pepper’s wine sloshes in its glass, her fingers tightening along the neck of it so it doesn’t spill on her expensive clothes. Everything is finally coming into focus now, it’s time to stop running from yourself.

Tony is standing in the hallway, glaring down at the ground as someone whispers things lightening fast into his ear. It looks like he’s not listening, and you know he probably isn’t it. His brain is eating up his own thoughts, and the way he’s chewing his lip makes you raise a brow as you and Pepper make your way towards him.

He hears the click of both your heels, now meeting your eyes. It’s almost shocking, to finally see your father somewhere else that isn’t just inside your house. He’s actually at work, being an Avenger. It’s a weird feeling that overcomes you.

“Nice to see you’ve come.” Tony doesn’t sound okay, his eyes are glossed over with something that you can’t quite pin-point. Pepper even catches it and manages to sneak a glance over to you, now concerned.

“Tony…” Pepper starts to speak but Tony lifts his hand to silence her, giving him his famous fake smile before he shoos off the person still attempting to talk to him.

“Why don’t you ladies find your seats. I’ve got you both in the front row, popcorn and drinks waiting. Even some of that cheesy powder stuff you guys like on them…I don’t know what it’s called, one of the tech people got it-”

“Tony.” Pepper interrupts Tony abruptly, and he bows his head in shame. He is one tough cookie but easily softens under the pressure of his own wife.

“It’s the suit.”

“The suit?”

“The suit.”

That makes you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You know those words, you know that tone. It’s an instant flashback to you standing in front of Peter, staring into his eyes with all your hopes and dreams radiating off your body and onto him. The way you told him your suit was going to be his next, your suit was going to be The suit.

“What’s wrong with it?” You don’t know how you manage to speak, but you find your voice enough to spit out a question. You tried to hold it in, this dread and the nervousness that suddenly spiked your whole body into overdrive. You really thought this day was going to be fine, that you weren’t going to regret this decision.

But Tony Stark always has something up his sleeves.

“Nothing serious, it just won’t connect to the automatic system I have set up. It’s for the show, so I want it to come on when I give the tech team the go-ahead but…”

“You need my help?” You finish off your dad’s sentence, even though you didn’t want those words to come out ever again.

Tony looked towards Pepper, seeing how upset and torn she looked. She knew damn well how much you struggled to get over the suit and that life. She was probably beating herself up for even asking you to come.

“No, well…yes? I mean you can just tell me what I need to do internally to the suit and I can do it myself.” You shook your head before he even finished, almost wanting to laugh at his attempt to make you feel better, to save you the memories and heartache. But you knew he knew that this wasn’t something you could just verbally instruct him on. It needed you, your hands, and your brain.

“Where is it?” You ask, already maneuvering past him as you make your way down the hallway. Tony is hot on your heels, and by the sound of the frantic click-clacking behind you, Pepper is too. She’s whispering with clenched teeth into Tony’s ear, words you can’t quite understand from where you’re walking. All you know is she’s not very happy, which is fair.

“Y/N,” Tony speaks as you come to Tony’s dressing room. You can feel his hand brushing your shoulder, just missing inches before you grab at the doorknob and turn it.

When you walk inside, you’re met with Peter Parker staring at you.

You grow numb, hands trembling as you push them into the side of your skirt. It’s like the world stopped, just a minute to stare into his eyes before he quickly had the mask pull over his head. He probably thought it was some stranger, walking in, but you see the mask’s eyes widen so largely you almost thought it was malfunctioning.

“Y/N?” Peter speaks breathlessly through the mask, it now slowly coming off his face and back into the neck of the suit. It’s now just him, his brown eyes that used to make your knees weak now staring back at you once again.

Two years. It’s been two years since you’ve seen Peter Parker in the flesh. You remember seeing him on tv, the suit on full display and making you sick to your stomach. You barely saw him for five seconds before you were changing the channel or turning the tv off. It was pain, pure, raw pain you felt when you saw his face. And now it’s back, but it’s all numb.

He aged well, and two years made him look manly, broader and caused some small beard hairs to grow along his chin. His jawline is sharper, he’s got more thickness to his form. God, he looks amazing.

And suddenly your world is tipped on its head again.

“Hi, Pete.” Your eyes turn down and you gulp awkwardly, not even realizing you said his nickname until it already slipped out.

He was shifting from side to side, his eyes moving along the floor as if the words he was trying to find were scattered across it.

“Y/N…” You could hear the guilt in your father’s tone, the hand on your shoulder and the way the air in the room grew thinner. But you took a deep breath, turning towards Tony who stood in the door frame with Pepper behind him, both with wide eyes and looking defeated.

“I told you, you need me.” Your voice was wobbly, you could feel it falling with each word. Tony could tell, the sorrow that rushed across his face and clouded his eyes. You hated it, you wished you were stronger than this.

You thought you were stronger than this. On the plane, you felt unstoppable, but one look into Peter Parker’s eyes and your walls are crumbling, everything is back to how it was.

“What system are you trying to connect to?” You asked after you cleared your throat and turned away from your parents and their pained glances.

There wasn’t an answer and you allowed them to process everything as you walked towards Peter.

He was looking at you again, those brown eyes scanning your body, reading every part of it. It’s like he was trying to remember the pages of a book he had forgotten about. He was reading the way you walked, the movement of your lips as you talked, the fumble in your voice. You felt exposed.

“I-I’ll go get the manual…” Tony spoke suddenly, making you jump. It made Peter laugh, just the smallest bit with the corners of his lips turning upwards as he stared at you. A shiver ran down your spine.

“Pepper.” You could hear Tony speak, and you didn’t have to look to know he wanted her to come with him. You couldn’t help but laugh too when you could hear them arguing as the door closed.

You wondered what changed your father’s mind about you and Peter being in the same room. To be fair, in two years you both have grown and changed, not just you and Peter but Tony too. You know your dad and the way his thoughts eat at his brain until there is nothing left, he knew how he hurt you and probably wanting to make it up to you by bringing Peter back into your life.

You don’t know how to feel about that. That numbness feeling comes crawling back every time you think too much into it.

“He didn’t tell you I was here, did he?” Peter asked, his voice building a dame to close off the thoughts that tumble harshly throughout your mind. You try to hide your smile, pretending to analyze every inch of the suit with your brows furrowed.

“And he didn’t tell you I was coming, did he?” You responded, making him chuckle and nod. His eyes glistened and glowed so perfectly, it reminded you why you got lost in them so easily when you were younger.

Your hands moved from your sides to the suit, trying to move through the motions as if that would help you stop daydreaming. But this just brought back the last time you ever saw Peter, when you both stood in your bedroom, his hands on your arms and yours cupping his jaw, how smooth it was.

You wondered what it would feel now, how prickly it would feel compared to when he was sixteen.

The dame was breaking.

“Is this okay?” You ask, hovering both your hands along his right shoulder. You refused to close his face in with yours, knowing what happened last time. It was smart, more professional, and Peter simply nodded with a loud gulp sound passing through the air before you decided to press your palms along the suit.

The suit felt how you remembered it, the bumps of the web design, the light reflecting off it. Peter’s body filled it in more than last time, and you could feel the muscle through it easily. You tried to blink passed that, trying to make sure no circuits were disconnected that could’ve caused the problems with tech.

You were an amazing inventor at sixteen, but you didn’t think about what your father would do with the suit business-wise. Everything was mapped out for Peter from bullets to bombs, but not about Bluetooth connection or HDMI and other cables.

“How has the suit been treating you?” You ask, trying to distract him as you timidly grab for his hand to check the movement functions. He flickered his gaze down at the contact but quickly looked back up to stare above your head.

“It’s been good, great actually. Took a good year to get used to healing like that but…” Peter trailed off, and that threw you off your guard enough to make you look up and attempt to meet his eyes. He did eventually, and he smiled pleasantly at you.

“You really did an amazing job, Y/N.” Peter mumbled, moving his hand the smallest bit so it was gripping yours. He gave it a pulse, just the smallest squeeze before you broke apart. You could feel the awkwardness taint the conversation, but the dressing room door opened with a short knock from the outside before Tony walked in.

“Where’s the manual?” You asked, shaking your head when Pepper side-eyed Tony with a chuckle. She looked a lot calmer now, and Tony probably just wanted to calm her nerves and used the manual as a way to get her out.

“Oh, darn I couldn’t find it. Funny how those things happen. But anyways I trust you looked at the suit while I was gone, any thoughts?” You don’t know why, but your cheeks immediately heated up at your father’s words. You could feel Peter shifting awkwardly beside you, obviously not expecting Tony to say that either.

“I did. It’s uhm, fine. Just like I remembered.”

You wanted to slap yourself at that response, but all you could do was hang your head in shame as Tony gave you the tiniest sneer.

“I think you will have to disconnect it from all the other tech you’re showcasing tonight. I designed it so it wouldn’t be able to be hacked into other networks or allow foreign connections to control it in any way.” You distracted everyone with your words, blinking daggers at your father and wiping the smile clear off his face. He was now nodding with his concentrated expression plastered on his face.

“I was afraid you’d say that…” Tony mumbled, but you could already feel your mind urging your body towards the door, to exit from the situation, from Peter. But you were in the middle of the situation, you felt like a zebra cornered by a family of lions. You were defenseless.

“Peter I’m just going to have to nod at you from on the stage and you’ll swing in like that. Watch for me, yeah?” Tony moved away from the door to Peter so he could pat at his shoulder. This gave you a chance to escape, but your feet were glued to the floor.

You almost felt like you were inclined to say something, like there was a missing piece in the air that hung and awaited your voice to fill it in. But you couldn’t turn to look at your father and Peter, or allow your lips to move. All you could do was stare straight ahead, which Pepper noticed and quickly attempted to meet your eyes.

She looked like she felt horrible, the way her lips and eyes turned down and how she clasped her hands in front of her suit. This wasn’t her plans for you, and you could almost see the thoughts swirling dangerously in her mind, the guilt she felt for bringing you here and forcing you to face your demons.

“Good luck.” You spit out a cheesy reply, trying to give closure to this conversation. You felt bad for shoving yourself forward and rushing out on everyone, but once your feet disconnected themselves from the floor, you felt an intense need for air.

Pepper followed, of course, her heels click-clacking faster and faster down the hallway as you made your way towards the back again. You could see the sunlight leaking through the bottom of the exit door backstage, and it called for you.

“Y/N!” Pepper yelled, and she must’ve been calling your name a lot by the way she sounded breathless when she finally caught up with you. Your hand had an iron grip on the doorknob to outside, and you gave her one look over your shoulder before you pushed it opened and allowed the sun to completely blanket your body.

“I’m sorry my love, I didn’t want-I never knew Peter was going to be here.” Pepper was toying with her wedding ring nervously as she paced in front of you. She would move it up and down across her finger, allowing it to roll around her knuckle.

You focused on those movements as an anchor so you wouldn’t lose yourself, knowing if you looked at your mother’s stressed expression your head would explode. All you could really do was lean against the wall, palms pressed to the bricks and eyes cast down to the ring that shined in the light.

“Y/N?” Pepper’s voice was softer now, closer than it was before. This caught you off guard enough to make your eyes move up towards your mother’s eyes, now seeing her still stressed expression with her brows knotted tightly together.

“We can go home, right now if you want.” Pepper’s voice was firm but her eyes shimmered with doubt, you could tell this was something she was only doing for you. But it was too late to run away, your already scarred heart was laid out on the ground and stomped to a bruised mess again. This was a situation where you just needed to pick up the broken pieces and put it all back together again.

You’ll just have to a pathetically put-together mess for your father and crush.

“I’m staying, mom it’s okay.” You gulped roughly as if you were swallowing a pile of rocks. Pepper was still looking at you like you had just been snapped in two, the lipgloss she wore now unseeable on her lips because she was biting them too much from the nerves. This was almost just as hard for her as it was for you.

“Y/N…” Your name got lost in your mother’s voice, her trailing off and lowering her gaze to the ground. It was a minute of silence, just the wind against your ears as you stared off into the sky over Pepper’s shoulder before she finally looked up.

“Okay.” She said, nodding and moving her hands to grab yours. She squeezed at your fingers, holding you in your place for a few seconds before she released you and moved to open the door.

As soon as she did, you could hear the cheers and the lights were dimmed. The show was starting soon, and you used your mom as a beacon of light, zeroing-in on her form as she maneuvered past the bustling crowd of tech people and stage management to get to your seats.

You clapped and stood along with the entire arena, everyone cheering as your dad bowed and smiled from ear to ear with his inventions shinning in all their iron glory behind him. Peter was just a few steps behind him, his suit being the star of the night. You could see how confident he felt in it, with the way his shoulders broadened and his chin lifted into the air as people cheered 'Spider-man!’

You couldn’t help the smallest part of your mind that fell towards the thoughts of imagining you on that stage, beside both of them, being cheered on for your work.

What if you didn’t almost kiss Peter that night? What if your father didn’t stay home that night and find his way up the stairs to your room to catch you at just the wrong time? Would you be standing up there with them? Looking just as happy, your cheeks hurting because of how much you’ve been smiling?

That was a lot of questions to ask yourself, and you almost fell back into your chair when Pepper grabbed your shoulder, shaking you the smallest bit to get your attention.

“I’m sorry,” she snapped her hand back and you made sure to smile to reassure her that you were okay. “I need to go backstage to the dressing room to grab your father’s checklist before he startings organizing the clean-up.” She kissed at your cheek before wandering off as the crowd still cheered and clapped.

The lights started to come on and your father and Peter had left the stage. That was everyone’s queue to start filing out. You could’ve walked out with them, just so you could get swallowed up into the crowd and away from the problems that were awaiting you in that damned dressing room. But all you really wanted to do was watch as the sea of people that filled the room disappeared in a matter of minutes.

It was soothing almost, to just be sitting in an empty arena in the front row with no one to come up to you, no one to put on a fake smile to. Your whole life you’ve never really been alone, not like this. It felt refreshing and it gave you a couple of minutes to gather yourself before you had to face everyone.

“Y/N Stark?” Your content smile dropped when you heard an unrecognizable voice from beside you. You reluctantly gave the stranger your attention, plastering on that fake smile you’re so good at, welcoming him to come further towards you.

He was handsome, closer to your father’s age. His hair was slicked back and healthy, eyes soft to match his smile. It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, and you could see he worked with your father by how he had a Stark Industries lanyard around his neck and a pin tucked into the right side of the suit.

“Hello?” You didn’t want to sound rude, but you gave him an arched brow as he clasped his hands behind his back and moved to sit next to you. You wondered why he wasn’t helping with the clean-up, or why he wasn’t backstage with anyone else. It’s not like you needed company.

Who knows, maybe you didn’t realize how depressed you really looked sitting alone in an empty arena.

“My name Quinten, Quinten Beck. I apologize for disturbing you it’s just…I wanted to say, your father is a genius making all those amazing suits. It must be interesting to grow up with a father who’s this talented.” He spoke almost like he was in a dream, looking towards the stage longingly. It made your mind wander back to your invention and the what-ifs.

“Yea.” You say bluntly, blinking down towards your feet.

Quinten didn’t say anything, and it was like he was analyzing you with the way he just sat beside you silently and stared at you. Maybe he expected you to elaborate, or say something more than 'yea.’

You felt bad, but you’ve been through a lot today.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You wondered if you could just not reply to him at all this time, maybe that would cause him to give up on this conversation and leave you be. But you couldn’t help but answer, he was only being nice.

“Just a long day, I’m glad you enjoy my father’s work.” You shook your head, trying to wiggle the bad thoughts pooling around your brain like a snake pit as you stood up and gave the man a decent smile.

“Understandable,” Quinten replied, looking at you for a split second in guilt before his eyes widened. He was quickly fishing through his pant pockets, finally grabbing whatever he was looking for and moving it towards you.

It was a business card, Quinten Beck written on the front with an email and phone number. It made you almost want to roll your eyes, now what was this for?

“Just in case you’re ever interested in following in your father’s footsteps, I’d love to work with you. You look like a woman that knows a lot.” Quinten smiles kindly, almost making you want to not rip the card in two.

“Thank you.” You take the card anyways, still showing that prize-winning smile as he laughs nervously when you take his card from his fingers.

You start to leave then, turning on your heels and walking towards the backstage door. But you’re shocked when he grabs at your wrist. It wasn’t anything rough or alarming, but the tender touch was enough to make you jump and retract your arm back.

“Hey, s-sorry just a quick question about that Spider-Man suit…since it was the big invention of the show…I was just wondering if the old Spider-Man suit was used at all?” He asked, now shoving his hands into his pockets because of your distaste.

That was a good question. Questions like that were rehearsed by your younger self inside your room as you paced back and forth or laid flat on your back upon your bed to stare up at the ceiling. You were so excited to get the press swarming you, screaming questions to you. Now you have one lone man standing in front of you looking like he was about to pee himself with the way he couldn’t keep his feet still in one spot, he was that nervous in your presence.

“I-uhm, my father used some of the parts, mostly just fabric samples to catch certain bits of DNA from Spider-Man and the webs to connect the new formulas together. It’s kind of…half and half.” You answered, feeling yourself now become the nervous one as you dodged his stare.

“Alright well…thanks for your time…really, Miss Stark.”

You gave him one short nod before turning back towards the backstage door. Your feet moved fast, and once you got to the door you carelessly tossed the business card into the garbage as you opened it, thinking you were being discreet with the way you shoved your hand into your purse to pretend you were throwing out a receipt.

You didn’t at all notice the glaring man behind you.

leave a comment or like/reblog! I’d really appreciate it.

taglist:

@fckingchile @the-crazy-fanfictionist @littlemissporter @werecoyote-diaries @maddi-bh @dreambigbelieveandtry @xemilyhill @undiadeestos @loveissupernatural @spideygirl2003 @eridansuwave @rachaeldonnaspiteri1

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dontshootmespence · 4 years

Text

An Arsenal of Cute

Summary: After a tough case involving kids, Penelope invites Kate over to drown their sorrows in wine and baby animal videos.

Words: 798

Warnings: FLUFFFFFFF

A/N: My next entry for @cmbingo 2020! This fulfills my s10 square.

A/N 2: On YouTube, you can look up the following videos for a pick-me-up! I would link but Tumblr can be an ass about that.

Eleven boxer pups in a litter by PlayShaRycky

Golden Retriever Puppies Newborn to 12 weeks time-lapse video by 8ball Pythons.

Top 10 Cutest Pug Puppy Clips on YouTube by TubeSpaghetti

Baby Elephants Want to be Lap Dogs by AnimalTube.TV

Cute Baby Ducks Compilation by Just Animal Videos

Penelope shrugged her blue sweater over the dress she wore, more than ready to get away from the icky-ness that was the images on her numerous screens. She threw her bag over her shoulder and walked toward the elevator, looking forward to the click-clack of her heels on the stairs instead of the tile floors of the Bureau.

After finishing their paperwork, most of the other team members had left for the night, but not Kate. There she was, sitting at her desk, looking every inch the beautiful, sad bombshell. Cases with kids were never easy, but especially for someone with a kid. “Hey,” Penelope said softly. “You okay?”

“Yea,” she replied, brushing her hair back from in front of her face. “Just, these cases...”

“I know. Icky icky gross. I can’t even imagine how you feel with that sweet little bean at home.”

Kate gave Penelope a half smile and stood up from her desk, slipping into her bomber jacket. “Not tonight. Tonight, I am a free agent. Chris is away on a business trip and Meg is at a friend’s for a sleepover.”

As they walked toward the elevator, Penelope’s face lit up. “Oh, oh, I know what you should do. Come over to my place and we’ll drink wine and watch cute animal videos.”

Kate’s mouth dropped open slightly. “That - That is an excellent idea, Penelope Garcia.”

The entire drive back to Penelope’s place consisted of a conversation about baby animals. Any and all of them. Especially puppies and kittens. “Every time we have a case involving kids, I watch puppy and kitten videos before going to sleep,” Penelope said as they got out of the car and walked up to her apartment. “I have lists on YouTube of all my favorites so that I can call upon my arsenal of cute whenever my brain needs a scrubbing.”

Laughing, Kate followed Penelope inside and plopped down on the couch. “It’s absolutely necessary if you ask me. You can’t do the type of work we do without having some kind of an outlet outside it, you know?”

“Exactly. You get me, Kate Callahan.” She excitedly poured two glasses of wine, handing one over before she sat down and pulled out her laptop. “Now, you drink as much as you want. You’re a mama. You deserve it. I have the pinnacle of pull-out couch mattresses here that you can use if you want to crash.”

“I think I might just have to do that. Thanks, Penelope.”

“For what?” She asked naively, making Kate laugh.

“People tend to forget about moms, you know? They always ask about the kids, and they should, obviously, but sometimes the moms like to know there’s someone there to vent to or distract them or whatever. Plus, I just joined the team recently and I thought I’d feel like the odd man out, but you’ve got a way of pulling people in.”

Penelope’s eyes were watering. “I might cry,” she replied, laughing it off. “I’m always here when you need me. Now, puppies or kitties?”

“Puppies,” Kate replied sheepishly. “If I wasn’t away so often, I’d want one at home.” “Same. Oh, what about this one?”

“Eleven boxer puppies in one litter? Gimme.”

A chorus of coos and baby talk echoed throughout the appointment. Puppies stepping over each other. Dying to get to mom, who honestly just needed a nap. Puppies stepping in their own poop. Even that was adorable. Kate tipped the glass back, taking a gulp. “This is what heaven is like to me. Just, give me all the puppies.”

“I wonder if I could get the Bureau to sanction a bring your dog to work day,” Penelope said deviously, making both a phone note and a mental note to bring it up. “I mean it’s for our mental health. Puppies make everything better.”

They didn’t even bother searching for another video; the next one in the queue was a time lapse video of a litter of golden retrievers over the course of 12 weeks. They were one of those dogs that no matter someone’s favorite dogs, goldens could get anyone to love them.

Kate finished her glass and leaned toward the laptop, searching for pug puppy videos, only to find a compilation of what were possibly the cutest pugs ever. Tiny little babies chewing on shoelaces, a little napper getting his belly tickled, a newborn making the cutest little noises in the world. “This is too cute. I need a puppy. I need all the puppies. Oh my god, have you seen videos of elephant calfs cuddling? They love cuddles.”

“Oh, I need it,” Penelope said excitedly, fingertips gliding across the keys like a bird on the water. “Stop! Look how cute.”

They wanted to be lap animals, but they were so not, and the elephants didn’t care. “We need to find a place where we can pet baby elephants. We’ll take Meg!” Penelope exclaimed.

For hours they cycled through all types of animal videos, specifically baby animals, ducks, kittens, puppies, elephants, goats - anything and everything to soothe the day’s troubles away.

After almost a bottle of wine a piece, they started falling asleep on the couch, the little quacks of baby ducks lulling them off to sleep. Cute animals made everything better.

#kate callahan #penelope garcia #penelope garcia fanfiction #kate callahan fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #dontshootmespence #an arsenal of cute

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ruutless · 3 years

Text

(queen of the wack) snippet

i messed something up again. i got free tickets to OZY fest and when my friends told me “no” i invited my cousin. he took the train in from fairfield and since i showed up late, my tickets went to someone else. my cousin could tell i woke up feeling worthless. i’d recently been assaulted a block away from my apartment by a robber who i tripped without thinking about it, and i’d been drinking to cope with everything it brought up. in the days after the assault, i looked at my bruised legs, remorseful for once again putting myself in harms way and then deep sorrow that i had to tell my mom how to care about how fucked up my legs got. i took a photo of them every day just to document my own twisted, self pity. when my friend had to make time to come over to nurture me, i hated so much that she told me how to be vulnerable with her that i never ended up doing it. using my loved ones’ behavior as proof of what i deserved, i told myself i didn’t need anyone’s affection, forced myself to be alone with what happened and used cheap, giant bottles of wine to get myself through the day instead. when my buzz wore off at work, i’d disassociate so i could get myself through the rest of my shift. once home and once again drinking straight out the bottle, i passed the time texting a sexy, closeted christian who’d taken me out on the back of his motorcycle a few weeks prior. he kept telling me i was submitting to my demons and antagonized me with his religious shame, believing that’s what would get me to open up to him so he could swoop in and save me. if that robbery taught me anything, the only one who’s gonna save me, is me.

i looked that robber dead in his eyes, silent and still with the truth after he yelled out, demanding, “what’d you do that for, you bitch! i should smack you!” and that’s why he beat me up on that sidewalk instead of saving himself from being arrested by the fire marshal who was stopped at the red light. whatever, two weeks later and, i think everything is fine. except, it’s only 11 am and i’m pissed i didn’t drink before i left the house and it’s obvious my cousin is passively upset about the fact i was late showing up to claim the OZY fest tickets. it’s a good thing we’re both used to the feeling of being let down because when we think of something else to do instead, ramen at some place on the upper east side sounds good enough for us. when we sit down, i pretend i don’t want to drink and tell myself i’ll be able to get through the rest of the day sober. i give up as soon as i tell myself the lie and make sure to keep my sake cup full while my cousin babbles on about how much fun he’s having at the festival. there’s only so much of his irritating drivel i can withstand before i apologize again for biffing it with the whole OZY fest thing but when he tells me, “that’s not it,” i’m met with a wave of anxiety.

the more he talks the more sake i sip. soon enough, i’m drunk and drowning in information. our server passes by and i ask her for more alcohol before she’s out of ear shot. my cousin’s finished talking and looks at me from across the table, fear, as always, keeping his eyes open wide and in a desperate attempt to soothe his quiet unrest, i feign anger. anger is always easy except with me it’s always displaced and eventually turns real, but since my cousin can’t tell the difference, i ride the wave. the truth is, i’ve always suspected the beginning of my life was deliberately kept secret from me—now i knew it was and the reason why.

thinking back to that one conversation i had with my aunt about a paternity test my grandma demanded her son take, i wouldn’t be surprised if she just said those things to me so she could soothe her own emotions. my aunt likes to think she was better with me than my mom but the truth is, she was just as incapable when it came to teaching me how to channel the fear running deep in my blood. when my aunt decided i was old enough to hear the truth about what the adults were doing the whole time i was having a “childhood,” i was already smart enough to know she was biased and secretly wished to turn me against my own mother. little did she know, my mother had already turned on me—and she did so real quick too, right after the first time i consciously rejected her. i was three or so and don’t ask me how i know that, i just do. and even though i’m writing about it like it’s no big deal and i find ways to laugh about how effortlessly sadistic my life is, a big part of me still hates that it’s actually depressing as all fuck. but knowing that she had an affair con el esposo de mi tía, around the time i would have been conceived—it just makes my beautiful dark twisted fantasy all the more pure in its perfection.

#writing #fiction writing #author #work in progress #literature #literary writing #ozy fest #new york city #upper east side #central park #my beautiful dark twisted fantasy #trauma #generational trauma #emotional neglect

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shabba-zams · 4 years

Text

INSPIRED BY ELAINE

I think it's time, we confronted the situation in front of us

And I think it's time we talk it out and forget all the fuss

And it is not me.. There just isn't an us no more like Bible class

Our time is up, like sand falling thru an hour glass, in an hour class

You always say you have no clue but surely eNCA, know more

You mad at me, the silent treatment and you call it normal

You're bad for me, I was ur biggest fan - u such a baddie

You're bad to me, I'm your only fan, love it when u call me daddy

I'm sad for you, you hid your "Onlyfans" from me, you dirty

I'm thirsty, right now you looking all sexy, girly, flirty, all nerdy

You're needy, greedy, full of pity, always eating, mouth fully meaty, too demanding, nasty lazy, bitch u crazy

I'm giving, forgiving, plain loving, still thirsty but dripping in sauce

You're tripping, I flick my wrist then flick the bean (BDSM)

You're dribbing, my dick be crippling

You be stroking my penis, asking what my pin is

Bust a nut, wipe a continent from your chest

Yeah, that's what pain is

And then I knew you're not the One

Coz you were never the only one

I don't give out many chances, you get just the one

Party on campus, ur too antisocial, never my plus one

Plus size model, thick mama, BBW, voloptuous, ur curvatious

Luv ur onion booty, it makes me cry & it's more than 1 layer

Yeah im full of games, bstill no player

Dinner for 2, right b4 I eat u up, say my prayer

Bad dream, devils hour, I wake, u staring like, Heya! That's creepy

Okay lemme be real with u, it ain't your fault

I just couldn't be real around you, I couldn't be myself

I was losing myself tryinna please U

My face was your chair, no please U.. I can't breathe

I need air, u don't care, I pull ur hair, that's not fair

Face clean, no make up, take teddy bear, then make up sex

We're role playing, you're now Claire, Blair or Nonhle

Shared my, heart and love with u

I ain't mad at u, we don't c I2I

U & I was both invested, we tested

All that loud in the air, sippin wine we wasted

Danced all night then rested

My place or yours instead

Always kept you interested, kept me well fed

It's lessons learned not time wasted

Why you making me choose between you & the booze

I know you hate how I'm hung like a moose

Getting your creative juices flowing, like your muse

Misuse my tongue, amuse ur lower lips, abuse your sleep

Team nocturnal, feeling your intestine with my external

Loving you all night and day, feels eternal

I'm sorry but I'm not ready for anal

But that pussy imma turn into a canal

You dislike my love/hate relationship with social media

I bring a home cooked meal but all you do is take away

I mean it's healthier and bonus it makes financial sense

Lemme keep my 2 cents, common sense ain't common

That's nonsense, why you so tense? We don't make sense

I still sense your anger from when I tried to fvck ur friend

Then my close friend who's my best friends girlfriend

Yeah, I fvcked up, I own up, let's roll up

That's not tea in my cup, let's go up

Talk at the roof top, "nigga just grow up"

You're yelling, screaming, bout to blow up

I'm cocky, saying shit like I was your glow up

"Hol'up, nigga please just shut the fvck up

You always say you coming but never show up"

"You're right, I'm sorry I left you sick to go drink

I felt like I was drowning until my sorrows' lungs were filled with H2O

Made it up 2 u tho, made you cum 6 times..no? 7 I think, who's counting

You a liability, I'm an asset... I mean it's just accounting

You lack reliability, for your mistakes ur never accounting

You hate my ability to feel everything and still be wholesome

Coz you just wanna feel good all the time

But my feelings be fluctuating, I just won't be faking

Stop tolerating the neglect Im getting

Get liquid with it

Happiness is the yin and sadness is the yang

Sometimes I drink gin, only when I'm with my gang

There's a burn hole on my jean, maybe a ciggie, or dank

But now I get bank, I want no skank that smoke skunk

Has that sank? Yeah I know, I'm a think tank, tick

Talk all you want, but keep it short like tik-tok

Tic toc, times up, take tsek.. tic tac 4 your bad breath

2 these beats I bring death, yeah I take life, no bring back

Break dance & break back, ahead of you like 3 laps

Brick dance coz my money grows while I nap nap

Hahaha gimme 3 claps coz my puns still slap

I'm real black, I'm bout to snap at all this crap

These niggaz decided to call rap

Lame rappers, listen up, sit down and don't talk back

Don't turn no other cheek, clap back or get ur wolf pack

Crack back, don't fight niggaz that look lyk they fap-fap

Or smoke crack crack, with eyes doing a criss cross

Came across many rappers that steal rap lines or rap names like Rick Ross to get their point across

Gamble with your life & hit crap

Lost your wife on my Whatsapp, there's that!

She pole dance in my DM's, she excels

She got a flat tummy till she exhales, but sex sells

She call me Haploid, like sex cells

She's cold like may weather, F Lloyd!

I'm a Record breaker, planet shaker, Constant risk taker

Ask the chain breaker how I stay shining

He'll answer, I stay grinding, on God!

I'm not a smile faker, just a soul snatcher in the fast lane

Wubba lubba dub dub, Rick and Morty

Life and death drive, ask Freud or Boyd

Leading a wild life like Varty, bitter sweet like chutney

I'm bored, so we party in my bed, my bad, honey!

Ass-ass-ass, she clap ass 3 times before 4(play)

Nurse-nurse-nurse, I slap ass tats when we role playin

Looking all photogenic, oops a nip slip on tape

Phat ass on my iOS, like real life

Ass flat on android, that's what they look like

No steroids, my dick big don't nje just

She look at my shoe size and run away at 1st chance

I'm an asteroid not space dust, she came fast

Then I came too, at last, she said out loud

I'm heartless at first glance, til I made her soul dance

Think fast, mouth 2 mouth ur low lips, I'm a medic

Nudes is explicit, is you a nymph or manic?

Nymphomaniac please don't panic

Your style so sick, bout to start a pandemic

We'll playback with your jeans off, relay... ground rules

No replay or pause only gonna press play once

No safewords, whatever works works, word!

Girl you a baddie, and a Pedi, go spoil yourself

Get a mani &a pedi

Dick in mouth, still out spoken, can't put words in mouth

U said I'm a keeper

Silver spoon in her mouth but I still feed her

Feel her up then fill her up, I eat her up

I feed her jollof right before I pipe her, I like her

Never gonna wife her, don't really love her

She's rude like something' crawled up her...

Foul mouth like up yours!

I know around your feelings I should tip toe

It's unfortunate coz I don't tip Joe's (askies jo)

Like excuse me waiter where should I dip those fries, french

Kiss hoes toes, mxwa, Zulu man with a foot fetish, tip toe

Articulate the truth, use tactics lyk rotten tomatoes on bad movies

I'm not perfect, I pose a threat even if a picture's moving

I'm booming, you're blooming... I'm nice nice, ur gloomy

I'm grooming u, like your cult leader

Avid reader, your soul feeder, I'm no people pleaser

I need a lady thats rooted in love and still rooting for me

Unconditional love lyk the kind that died on the cross 4 me

Is that you? No? Then miss me Miss, think I'm gonn miss ya!

Coz now it's

A goodbye to you, I'm thru witchu, it's true I confess

Wish you nothing but the best

Somebody to love you, put you first for the rest of

All the days to come, to you I

Remain a good friend, no benefits just perks

Straight facts, ex lover with strange quirks... You

Are

The

One... Who will be the godmother to my heir

So if I die, you'll raise HIM or raise HER

Erase Her memory of me if it's too painful to hold on to

Make sure he's playful, careful and joyful too

U'll be a good mom, ur delightful unlyk most step mothers

You're a good teacher that's patient but always on time

You'll know what to do if ever my daughter runs late

Scratch that, you'll be a great mother, that's fate

Becoz you're a leader, not deceitful like some bad fathers

#IWriteWhatILike #poetry #dead poets society #poets on tumblr

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