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kimthwariru · 3 years

Text

Namjoon reaction—calling him a ‘friend’ when he clearly has a thing for you

❀genre: smut, a bit of fluff

❀collage au

(This was originally supposed to be a quick reaction but something happened to me and I couldn’t stop writing)

“Look, Jisoo, I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong” you flash a cheeky smile at your best friend. She’s being going on and on about how this Kim Namjoon guy had a thing for you.

You can’t lie, you’ve seen him around in campus and sometimes you’d wish he would suffocate you with these thighs of his. Ugh. The perfect combo, lean yet masculine physique with a brain that actually functions for a change. You’ve seen the way these collage girls were circling him around and you can’t blame them, the guy was a catch.

But he was not your crowd of people. He was outgoing, social and had loads of what you like to call “the lad friends”. You guessed his main activities were partying and getting shitfaced every night.

You’ve talked to him a couple of times. He uses the same bench as you to read now and then. You would eventually take sneak peeks at the books he was reading, check if he had any taste or not, and the result was always better than what you expected. This guy knew books. He was not just reading what was on the best seller’s that week to look sophisticated in front of others.

When he caught you peaking he’d started having small talk with you. You swear you’ve never experienced a better conversation flow with another human being. This guy screamed comfort. He seemed genuinely curious about the things you were saying. None of that painful act of pretending to be interested just because he wanted to get laid. You had been talking with him for a month straight and aside from a few moments of some what flirty looks his actions never suggested something more.

His aura was welcoming and he always paid attention to the little things. Unlike some other shallow guys out there, he felt…different.

But how different could he really be? You’ve seen the people he hangs out with. Kim Taehyung? He had a relationship with three girls at the same time. Didn’t even apologize for being the biggest jerk in history. You’ve heard Jung Hoseok’s body count was reaching a 3 digit number AND Jeon Jungkook once fucked 4 different girls at the same night.

Just thinking about it makes you sick. It pains you to admit but there’s only one truth to this. Even if Kim Namjoon was interesting, he was definitely a person you needed to stay away from. All the data point to a big fuckboy alert!

“Come on y/n…. If he wasn’t even in the slightest interested in you then why did he tell me explicitly that he wanted you to attend the party??”

“An invitation to a party doesn’t mean anything. Besides, I’m sure I’m not his style. Have you seen the type of girls he hangs out with? Yikes.”

Jisoo smirked at you “Oh, I see you’re stalking him now?”

You shake your head “Don’t be ridiculous! We take Econ together, that’s all. What? Am I supposed to cover my eyes every time I see him?”

“Maybe you should” Jisoo came closer to you “Y/n, we’re going to that party”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“This is a big mistake, I’ll get bored within the hour” You scream at Jisoo over the loud music.

“Don’t be a whiney ass and enjoy yourself for once” she handed you a drink.

Enjoy yourself for once. You and Jisoo’s definition of enjoying one self were clearly very different. You scan the room to look for any familiar faces you could talk to. Unfortunately, not a lot of your acquaintances attended frat parties.

Your head motion immediately pauses when you meet eyes with Namjoon across the garden. Was he looking at you this whole time? You feel your cheeks burn.

Initially, you don’t know how to react but eventually you flash him a small smile and focus back on Jisoo

“Kim Namjoon just gave me the biggest stare of all time” you say as you down your drink

“What!?” Jisoo’s eyes widened “This is the time where I say I told you so.”

You think for a second that maybe Jisoo was right all along. But that just makes the whole thing more dangerous for you. You can’t lie, Namjoon is attractive, but you knew he was trouble. Maybe he liked you today and then liked another girl tomorrow.

Suddenly, you feel a hand touch your shoulder “Hey y/n, Jisoo. Glad you guys made it” Namjoon’s low voice pierced your ears.

Jisoo gave you a look before replying to him “Hey!! We couldn’t miss such a night!” She smiled “right y/n??”

“Yeah!! Totally” you cheer kind of awkwardly.

Namjoon’s eyes fixed on you. You felt his stare eat you up. His whole presence felt angelic yet overwhelming. “Do you guys maybe want to join us? We’re sitting right by the pool”

“Oh! Sure, why not!” Jisoo answered almost immediately

You were walking towards the pool, Namjoon was pacing right next to you, he was so close to the point where you could sort of smell his cologne. You swear you could get drunk off his scent.

“I have to be honest, I didn’t think you’d actually come” He chuckled

“Are you disappointed?” You teased and raised an eyebrow.

You see a dimple smile making its appearance, how can this dude be so incredibly hot and cute at the same time? “I think pleasantly surprised would be the right way to put it”

Why do you feel like you can not breath? He hasn’t said much, yet you feel yourself burn up all of a sudden. “Good to know” you smile back.

“Joon! You have to see this” was the first thing Taehyung yelled when you arrived to the place where the guys were sitting “12 o’clock, Hobi making out with Mina from 3rd year. Can you believe it? After two years of trying to get it, he finally succeeds”

Of course the main talk is girls. No surprise there.

“Jungkook bitch, you owe me 20 bucks” Taehyung eyed Jungkook

Your expression screamed disgust. Apparently, Namjoon noticed “They are not as bad as they seem” he elbowed you.

You give him and awkward laugh “I’ll take your word for it” You lie.

“Guys, this is Jisoo and y/n. Can you stop trying to head lock each other and say hello? You’re embarrassing me” Namjoon introduced the pair of you to the boys who were still arguing about the bet.

“Oh, hey girls.” Taehyung paused to inspect Jisoo’s face. “Hey, business and shipping? Ain’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, right!” Jisoo smiled

“Hyung aren’t you taking that class for like the third time? How many times can you fail you recon?” Jungkook teased him and Taehyung answered by giving him a slap on the shoulder.

“Hey y/n, do you want to go grab a drink? I think you’ll need it if you are to tolerate these guys” Namjoon offered.

“I trust you know best” you smile and quickly follow behind him. His shoulders wide and his muscles very visible even through his airy shirt. This guy was a whole statue.

“By the way, I’ve never seen you at parties before. I think I saw you once at the December ball but that’s about it. Not really a big fan of these kind of things, are you?” He suddenly said. You can’t really decode his words. How did Kim Namjoon know you even went to the December ball? You’re pretty sure you didn’t even talk to him that night.

“Interested in me much?” You give him a cheeky smile but he was just looking at you, a couple of seconds passed without him responding “I’m only joking! It’s true I don’t really attend these sort sort of things.”

“And what do you do for fun miss y/n?” He laughs and you swear if you could bottle the sound and get drunk on it you would.

“Oh you’ll think I’m lame”

“Try me” he said in a serious tone while starring right through your eyes. Suddenly, your body felt too heavy for your legs to bear. How can he get to you like that?

“Okay…” You start, him looking at you like that didn’t help control your train of thought, but you manage to get a hold of yourself “So you know that little corner cafe on willow street? Every Friday they have these comedy music nights. A guy-“

“Park Jihoon and the little funny guitar, yeah! I used to go there every Friday during my freshman years! Do they still do that old thing? I swear the pun with the atom never failed to make my day.” He started laughing again.

“Whoah what? You’re telling me you’ve been to the shrieking shack?” That place was a little treasure you’d found earlier this year. It was an amazingly cozy place, perfect during the cold winter time. The staff were all so kind and wore these big oversized colorful ties. But the people going there were all much older than you. You’ve never heard someone your age talk about that place. Let alone a person like Namjoon.

“Careful how you talk to a veteran y/n. I’ve basically helped to build the place” he chuckled.

“Y/n is that you?” A familiar voice greeted you.

“Jimin! Oh my god, hey! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you!” You hug him.

Jimin was a great soul, he majored in contemporary dance and ballet. He had been traveling for the past couple of years enrolling in some extra ballet classes in the magical city of Paris. You envied him for his talent and admired him for his passion.

“Girl, you have to come visit me. You’ll love Europe!”

“I would also LOVE to have some money in my wallet” you laugh “Oh Jimin, this is my friend, Namjoon. We go to collage together”

Namjoon gave you a look and soon after shook Jimin’s hand “What’s up. Nice to meet you”

“Nice to meet you too! But y/n, I’m so so sorry, I have to go. I was actually on my way out just now. I sort of uhm, have a thing-you know” he coughed “I’m leaving in two weeks, can we please meet before that?”

You knew Jimin was probably off to his ex boyfriends house. They broke up before Jimin left for Paris but every time he got back he’d have a couple of hookups with him. “Oh yeah! I bet you’ve got something very important right now, you better go quickly” you teased him “I’ll text you tomorrow, ok?”

Jimin laughed so much his eyes were barely visible “definitely! text me! I’ll be off then! Bye mister Kim Namjoon” he playfully said and was out of your sight a second later.

“You two seem…close” Namjoon suddenly commented

“Yeah! We were! But he has been studying abroad for like two years now.”

Namjoon’s facial expression was quite enigmatic “Did you guys ever… you know”

“Oh no no no.” You pause to make a small chuckle “Jimin isn’t exactly interested in, well, girls like me, or to be exact, girls in general”

Namjoon’s eyes widened and he immediately bursted into laughter “oh… I see” he made a pause “So tell me then, how come the old soul that never goes to parties finally attends one?”

You feel your cheeks burn red. Partly because the reason you went was him. You don’t know why, but the past month you and Namjoon hit it off very well and you wanted to test Jisoo’s crazy theory, you wanted to make sure for yourself if Namjoon was interested in you or not. Now the problem was, even if it turned out he did like you, you didn’t know what you’d do exactly. Namjoon was a really nice guy, but he didn’t come without his red flags.

“Just wanted to try something different, I guess”

“And how’s that 'different' treating you so far?”

What could you possibly tell him? That you have enjoyed every minute you guys have been talking? That you think that just by staring at you he could make you feel things no other guy could? You barely can admit all of that to yourself. “I think pleasantly surprised is the right way to put it” you repeat his words from before.

You see him smile at that. “You know what y/n? I’m really happy you came”

How can he make your heart beat so fast with just one sentence? “Oh really? And why is that?”

“I don’t know, I guess… I just like talking to you, you know? Whenever I’m around you I feel at ease, like I can tell you anything. I feel different when I’m with you, but in a good way”

“Wow” that sound escaped your lips without your consent

Namjoon laughed “Why? Is it too weird?”

“No! Definitely not weird, more like, I don’t know, surprising?”

“In what way?”

“Well you’re… Kim Namjoon, you’re the 2021 class president and you’re like the most popular guy in the whole campus right now.” You made a pause “And I’m just..-“

“The most interesting girl I’ve ever met” he cuts you off

The way he was looking down at you made butterflies grow in your stomach “You really think so?”

He gently grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him “I know so” he leaned down, you swear his eyes had the whole galaxy painted inside of them. You couldn’t even breath properly at this point. Kim Namjoon was too close and the only thing you were thinking about was how well his kiss would feel “God, you’re so beautiful” he said and pulled you in for a soft, gentle kiss.

You couldn’t believe your senses. Kim Namjoon was kissing you and you really thought the earth had stopped spinning right then and there. You could feel his big palms traveling up and down your back.

His kiss was breathless, jubilant, filled with the joy of life, and you should stop him, he is no good to you, you know that, but his scent is delightful and his lips are so warm.

Unconsciously, your hands reach the inside of his shirt. His skin hot and soft at the touch.

"y/n" he practically moans your name, and just the sound makes your knees go week "Don't do that, I don't think I'll be able to stop"

"Who said anything about stopping?" You say and go back to kiss him even more passionately this time.

“There’s a lot of people here, my room is upstairs, would you perhaps want to-“

“Yes.” You immediately say. You don’t care about anything anymore, you’d let your future self deal with the consequences of today’s actions. The only thing that has been lingering in your mind is how good he’d feel inside of you.

The moment you’re finally alone in his room, he lifts you up, swinging you around and kissing you. It was like a dream. Namjoon was everything you wanted. Your reluctance about getting with him didn’t matter any more, the tingly feeling in your stomach overtook every single bit of hesitation you had. You needed him.

“God, you’re lovely” he exhaled

He looks at you as he sinks you down on the bed. Planting a soft kiss before his hands quickly begun to peel away clothes, yanking his belt loose, fumbling hurriedly at his trousers.

You look at his lips tracing your skin and the faint moisture left behind, you look at his muscly arms as he lifts you up and sinks you down again, you look at him looking at you, with eyes brighter than the sun itself. Was this all a dream?

When your dress was finally off he undoes your bra clasp on the way down. Slowly planting kisses on your collarbone, the tops of your breasts, your sternum, and you arched you back as you were needy for more.

His lips finally reach your nipples .Your boobs smooth under his hands, your nipple firm under his tongue, and there, that makes you squirm again, a little more insistently this time.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking wet right now, I feel it” You moan

You see him raise an eyebrow. A vivid smirk painted on his face “Let’s check, shall we?”

He splays his hand low across your belly, and the first brush of his thumb over your clit makes you breathe in sharply and him forget to breathe at all.

“I’m your friend?” He breaths in, his voice dangerously low

“Oh come on” You manage to say in between moans “what was I supposed to tell Jimin?”

His strokes and flicks are light and teasing, his thumb carefully circling around your clit. He gives you a slow, constant, unyielding pressure that makes your breath come up short, makes your toes curl in the effort not to move.

“I’m gonna fuck the word ‘friend’ right out of your pretty little mouth” he covers your mouth with an intense kiss before slipping two fingers of his free hand inside of you, and you makes a noise like triumph and want all wrapped up together. If his fingers felt like this, you can’t imagine how his dick felt like.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up, he keeps his eyes on his hands, on you, spread out beneath him “You like that baby?”

God, just the way the word 'baby' sounded coming from his mouth could make you come right this second. You look at him, his eyes look as hungry as his voice sounded. This dude was out of this world.

“Please Namjoon, I want it, I want you inside of me right now”

Namjoon lowered his underwear, and simply pressed his hard member on your slit. You could feel his balls softly caressing your clit as he made subtle movements while kissing you. “Such a needy little thing” he teases “Tell me how bad you want my cock inside of you”

“Oh..” you moan “I’d do anything, please…give it to me… fuck me like you own me” you whined as you used your pussy to caress his length up and down. He seemed to enjoy they way you touched him.

“Fuck y/n… that feels so good” he rests his forehead on yours.

“Imagine what my inside will feel then” you whisper in his ear “I’m such a tight good girl” you move your mouth in front of his, bitting his bottom lip as he growled when he felt your movement grow faster

“Fucking hell” he immobilized your body with his hands and pressed you down to the bed. He immediately shoves his dick inside you, filing you up to the brim before staying there for a couple of seconds and then pulling out completely. That movement made your vagina crave to be filled all the way up again.

“More” you whine, a dopey expression all over your face. You were so needy of him, but you didn’t care.

He lowered his left hand towards your thigh and gave it a big squeeze, kissing you aggressively while doing so. He quickly braced himself back into you, you felt your walls completely wrap around his member. It felt magical.

His strokes long and steady in the beginning. Every time he went in and out completely you felt the pit of your stomach burn in pleasure. Namjoon was doing everything right, you can’t lie to yourself, this is the best sex you’ve ever had. Normally with other guys you don’t even come close to coming, but now, you feel yourself trying not to do so.

“You like my dick being inside of you baby?” He plants a small kiss on your neck and goosebumps run down your spine.

‘Like’ was nowhere near good enough of a word to explain how much the sensation of him thrusting his hard member in and out of you made you feel. “I love it Namjoon… I just love it…”

Your words must’ve turned Namjoon even more on, because his pace immediately started becoming faster and sloppier. Every time your skin touched a loud sound could be heard. Namjoon was thrusting deeper and deeper into you, and every time he’d fill you up completely you’d cry out his name.

“Ah, I like my name so much better when you fucking moan it like that” he says and started shoving his dick inside of you like crazy. You could tell he was close to coming, and so were you.

It wasn’t long until you felt your walls clenching and your toes curling. The sensation overtook all of your body, it was mad… your heart beat uncontrollable. Namjoon made you feel a completely new range of emotions.

“Ah y/n, I can feel you cumming all over my dick” his voice cracky, You could see how turned on he was by all of this, by you. “Fuck” he shoved harder “You’re so” harder “fucking hot”

Namjoon stopped and pulled out immediately spreading his cum all over your tummy. The sight was breathtaking, you’ve never found a man so attractive while coming before, but then, Namjoon is no ordinary man.

He quickly grabs a couple of tissues and wipes you clean before laying on top of you again, placing another soft kiss this time. His hand playing with your hair. You were both naked and sweaty and a mess but it felt so magical. You wrapped your hands around his broad shoulders, pulling him even closer to you. You didn’t want even a centimeter of distance between you and him.

He suddenly stopped kissing you and simply stared at your eyes. After a minute or two, or maybe three, you're not really sure, time didn't exist right now, he tacked a string of hair behind your left ear.

“Y/n, let me take you on a date. Please. I know you don’t normally go out with guys like me, but I swear I’ll make it worth your while-“

“Park Jihoon and the little funny guitar. How does that sound? Or are you too good for the shrieking shack now?” You chuckled

“I’d love that” he smiled, making your heart melt a little.

#bts reactions #namjoon reaction #namjoon fanfic #bts fan fiction #bts fanfiction #bts fan fic #namjoon imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #bts college au #bts smut #bts fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon fic

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the-passenger-if · 3 years

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A prompt for the angst but!! How would the ros deal/treat/react to a newman that had frequent panic attacks? (If your comfortable answering, and no ones asked before) I imagine since the whole reason we're on earth is because we're trying to hide from this eldritch diety who wants to inhale us whole, and to top it all off newman doesnt even have enough energy to leave. That would cause any being an extreme of stress and anxiety. Especially after Tzr'nekre actually finally locates us

combining it with

if its not too spoilery, how would the ROs react to the MC waking up from a nightmare (say, one in which the RO got possessed by tzr'nekre?) and MC just clings to them, crying, after waking up, and refusing to explain but its obvious they had a terrible nightmare?

This isn’t what Fiama imagined when she was awaken by Newman’s warm face pressing against her breasts, ragged breathing and all. She wants to grab a hold of their head, hold them there, but as her hand brushes their cheek, she finds it damp. Maybe with sweat, maybe with tears.

“Baby?” she asks in a hushed whisper. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

The only reply she gets is a stuttering intake of breath. And then her partner’s arms are sneaking around her—one under her neck, the other around her waist—and Newman is squeezing her tight.

Fiama is strong, she has always been. Her mother once told her—not in kind terms—that she truly took after her father’s sisters; their arms, made to keep children from ripping one another’s eyes out, their legs to carry drunken husbands back home. Now, trapped in Newman’s strong embrace, she feels like the type of dainty, unobtrusive creature her mom wished she had grown into.

She takes a deep breath—as deep as she's able to within her lover’s tight grip—and tries again. “Babe… you’re… crushing me.”

The hold eases up an instant later, but Newman doesn’t let go. They bury their wet face in Fiama’s neck, still silent. It’s alarming to say the least, but she keeps her voice calm. “Are you hurting?” Newman shakes their head. “Are you sad?” She hugs them, feels them shaking in her arms—Newman doesn’t shake like this. “Are you scared?” She didn’t want to sound so flabbergasted (so ‘judgy’ her mother would say) but she can’t help it.

Once again, Newman doesn’t answer, but they do bury their face deeper into Fiama. It takes her by surprise; they have always seemed so unaffected by everything…

She hugs them tight and says the only thing she can think of, “I’m here, babe. And I’ll always be. I don’t know what or who is making you feel like this, but you aren’t alone. I’m with you.” She kisses the top of their head, murmuring every promise she knows she can keep.

A few minutes later, Newman is fast asleep again.

---

Sleeping next to another person in a bed that wasn’t made to be shared by two adults is uncomfortable, but it was late and Newman hadn’t brought their bike, ignoring that Joaquin’s car was at the shop, and Lucia had taken hers that night.

It’s ok, Jonny thinks to himself while he stares at the ceiling, we’ll just wait until my folks leave for work tomorrow. It doesn’t have to get awkward for anyone.

When was the last time he’d shared a bed? Probably when he was around twelve and Quino got scared by a storm and woke him up in the middle of the night, cold hands slipping under the sheets and touching the back of his neck. Dumbass always did the same thing, no matter how many times Jonny punched him to dissuade him. Of course Jonny could never stay mad at his twin for long, and they would share the bed in the end—Jonny grousing about Quino’s cold hands and Quino whining about Jonny hogging the covers.

As if invoking his brother, he feels hands around his neck now; cold, sweaty hands. Even though they don't belong to Quino, the way they’re clinging to him is pretty reminiscent of the way his twin used to squeeze him whenever lightning stroke too close.

“Are you ok?” he asks stupidly. Of course they aren’t; Newman is scared. “What is it?” he tries again, but Newman says nothing, they only keep tightening their grasp around Jonny. He takes their hands and tries to free himself. “Newman, you’re going to choke me.”

Slowly, those cold fingers loosen, giving him a chance to sit up.

“Don’t go!”

“Hush,” Jonny hisses. “Damn it, Newman. Remember we aren’t alone.” He takes the hand that is now gripping the front of his shirt and tries to hold it, but Newman doesn’t budge. “Please,” he whispers.

“Don’t go,” it’s the barely audible plea he gets as a reply.

“I won’t,” he assures them. After another second, Newman lets go, and Jonny takes the hand and gently rubs it between his. “Come here,” he whispers, and Newman doesn’t need to be told twice. They get between his legs and rest on their side and against Jonny’s chest. Jonny takes the covers and pulls them over both of them, and there, with an arm around Newman’s shoulder, he can feel their muscles begin to slowly relax.

---

Roach didn’t usually do this; lying down in bed while their conquests sleep. They had realized that there was so much one could do to pass the time, and watching people drooling was amusing just the first dozen times.

They turn another page of the magazine they stole from that gas station three towns over, the one with the old, balding clerk that had given Roach the evil eye from the moment they dared to set a foot in his territory.

The light is off but that’s ok because Roach doesn’t need it to read, the same way they don’t need it to sneak glances at Newman’s sleeping form. It’s something they do, they tell themself, to pass the time, and not because Newman’s face is nice to look at or anything like that. They aren’t expecting to find their companion awake the next time they look their way, least of all with a terrified look set on their face.

Roach opens their mouth to ask what’s going on, but the words die out as they are wrapped in a tight embrace. The fact that they were so distracted by Newman’s expression that their reflexes vanished for a hot minute, says something. Something Roach doesn’t want to acknowledge right now, so they don’t. Instead, they let their body go limp in Newman’s arms, let them squeeze and squash until they seem to come out of their trance.

“R-Roach?”

“Yes?” they ask in return.

“Are you… ok?”

Roach wriggles to put some distance between Newman and them—as much as their companion’s steel grip allows, anyway—and runs a hand over Newman’s face, wiping off the sweat. “Just a couple broken ribs,” they say, “I’ll live. What about you? What had you panicking like this?”

Newman retracts from those words like a shy snail. It really takes Roach by surprise. They can’t think of many things that might scare Newman, which at least makes the list of suspects quite short.

“Hey,” they whisper in a way that they hope sounds both unaffected and reassuring, “I would know, remember? There’s only you and me here, no third roommate. You can relax.”

Their words, true as they are, do very little to calm Newman down, so Roach sighs and nuzzles against their jaw. “Squeeze away then,” they mutter and kiss Newman’s skin. “I’ll be the prettiest stress ball you’ll ever have.”

---

It isn’t a gentle awakening. Horizon’s muddled thoughts crash into one another as the Domini unsuccessfully tries to slip away from the tight embrace they are being subjected to. What’s going on? their mind asks, half asleep, half panicking.

Memories from last night come back to them as if slogging through a swamp; they remember having dinner with Newman, chatting and somehow ending up in bed together. They remember the tenderness of the moment, the way they felt like they could melt as Newman and they cuddled together...

Horizon strains their neck trying to look over their shoulder, but even with the rays of moonlight seeping through the window, the only thing they have an eyeful of it’s their own dark curls. Newman’s chest is pressed against Horizon’s back and now that the Domini is fully awake, they can feel the other’s racing heartbeat. It scares Horizon, it makes them want to ask what’s going on, what happened to Newman, what, what, what…

They fight those urges. They take a deep breath, find one of Newman’s hands and softly cover it with theirs. “You are in my cabin,” they whisper, “you are in ranch 48, in Luna Ridge. We had diner and I asked you to spend the night. Remember that?”

There’s a long pause, then Horizon feels them nodding against their back. A couple seconds later the iron grip eases up. It gives the Domini a chance to turn around, and very gently press their forehead against Newman’s damp one. “Deep breaths,” they whisper and then are doing just that, hoping Newman will follow their example. An instant later, they are.

Feeling Newman’s muscles relax as they get their breathing under control brings a smile to the Domini’s face.

#ask #tp fiama #tp jonny #tp roach #tp horizon

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edna-skiffens · 3 years

Text

The Best Medicine

Summary: You are in the hospital, but you can never sleep in hospitals. Good thing you have a very attractive night shift nurse who is willing to help out.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: hospitals, light med talk, bad medical writing, fluff

A/N: Please ignore the plot holes or the fact that this isn’t the most realistic and also I know this isn’t how discharge works at the hospital.. It’s called fiction for a reason, darling. Also, I left the reason the reader is in the hospital open ended bc some of us may have medical conditions/reasons that we can attach to this, but if not I tried to keep it vague enough on purpose so that you can imagine whatever. Also if you like Nurse!Tom and have requests for him lmk bc i’m happy to write for him.

Toss and turn. Toss and turn. The routine was getting old. This was your third night in the hospital and sleep just wasn’t coming to you.

Maybe it was the medicine they had you on. Maybe it was the constant symphony of sounds and people passing in the hallway. Maybe it was because you weren’t at home in your own bed.

Maybe it was just because you were in the hospital.

You couldn’t be sure. What you were sure of is that you weren’t falling asleep anytime soon.

Feeling another presence in the room, you looked from the ceiling to the doorway where you saw Tom, one of the night shift nurses, standing cautiously.

“I didn’t wake you did I?” He asked as he eased his way inside.

“Nope.”

“So no sleep again, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Sorry darling. Let’s go ahead and get these vitals over with.” He took your blood pressure, oxygen levels, temperature and wrote it down in your chart. Putting the clipboard back on its hook at the end of the bed, he looked up at your tired face. “Okay. So now about that sleep. What do you think will help?”

“Not being in the hospital.”

He chuckled lightly while walking back towards your bedside.

“I know. You hate it here. You’ve made that very clear and I try not to take too much offense to it.” You let out a slight laugh and held back the fact that he was the best part of this whole experience. He almost made it worth it. “I’m sorry we can’t give you any sleeping medication. Do you think it’ll help if I talk to you?”

“You mean tell me bedtime stories?” You couldn’t help but tease him at the adorable suggestion, though it sent a swarm of butterflies off in your stomach.

“I was thinking more like bore you ‘till you fell asleep. But whatever works.”

“You’re the nurse. If you think it’ll help.” You both sat there smirking at each other for a moment. Something unspoken floating in the air between you two.

“Well, I need to finish my round of vitals first. I’ll come check on you when I’m done and if you’re still up we’ll see about those stories.”

“I’ll be here.”

About fifteen or twenty minutes later you heard a light tap on your door followed by “Still awake?”

“Always.”

“You up for a chat?” Tom asked as he made his way to the stool then rolled slightly closer to your bed.

“Got nothing better to do.” You teased again.

“Okay. Well you should probably lay down.”

“Oh. It’s going to be that kind of story, huh?” His laugh was so beautiful and you were happy you were the cause of it.

“No.” He corrected in between laughs “The goal is to get you to sleep. So sitting up won’t help.”

“Right. Right.”

“Well.. anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”

“Why did you choose to become a nurse?”

“Ahhh. Good question. So I actually went to an art school.” You couldn’t help the brief expression of surprise that crossed your face. “I know. Shocking. I did training specifically in dance and gymnastics and I loved it.”

“Wait, so what happened?” You asked, turning on your side to face him more comfortably.

“Well one day we were rehearsing for a show and I fell. Ruined my knee. Had to do physical therapy for months. I tried to get back into it, but it just wasn’t the same. However, through that process I learned a lot about medicine and the health side of things. It really turned me on to it. And when my Plan A got a bit messed up I thought ‘hey, this could work’. So far it’s treated me pretty well.”

You smiled at Tom, admiring his passion for his career and the determination he had to keep pushing after his accident. You enjoyed hearing him talk about it too. If you didn’t know any better you would say it was helping you relax.

“My story that boring?”

“Obviously.”

“Your sarcasm has no end.”

“Oh… goodness.. you thought that was sarcasm?”

Tom only laughed and shook his head the way he often did with you.

You may just have been his patient and he may have just been your nurse, but you both bonded. He kept you company and gave you comfort. In return, you kept him entertained during the quiet night shifts.

“I’m not going to sleep. I'm just resting my eyes. But still listening.” You told him as you nestled further into the hospital bed, trying to find a position that would make it comfortable.

“Okay, darling.” He grinned at you.

“Tell me more. What kind of-” You had to stop to yawn, “What kind of art stuff did you do?”

“Oh. Well, I was in a few musicals. I really enjoyed dancing. I did ballet ever since I was young and I love the control I have over my body. The tricks I can do with gymnastics or the turns and leaps. I mean I can’t do them to that level anymore, but I try to stay active.” He glanced up and noticed you hadn’t moved, “Are you still with me?”

“Mhm.” You barely respond.

“Okay. Well it was a performing arts school so we really were trained in many areas. We had classes in acting, singing, dancing, all of it. It was a lot of fun and I met my best friends there.”

Tom began telling stories about his time at school. Before he knew it, he lost himself and track of time. He looked back at you, quiet and still.

“Y/N?” You were finally asleep. “Goodnight, darling.” He whispered as he gently made his exit.

Because Tom worked the night shift, you never saw him when you woke in the morning. Instead, Tanya, a sweet nurse that felt like a big sister, or Linda, Nurse Ratched in the flesh, came in for morning vitals and meds.

You counted down the days until your release. Life in the hospital was pretty uneventful with the limit on visitors and limited activity. There’s only so many sitcoms one can take in a given timespan. The only thing that you really looked forward to each night was when Tom clocked in.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Tom.” You would smile at each other.

“How are we feeling today?”

“Better. Ready to get out of here.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you are feeling better and still ready to jailbreak.” He smiled while writing something down on your chart. “They should be bringing up your dinner tray soon and then I’ll bring by your evening meds after that.”

“Okay.”

“If you need me you know what to do.” He called to you before walking out the door.

You were disappointed when Shelley brought your evening meds by later. She was a nice enough nurse. She just wasn’t Tom.

You’d grown accustomed to mainly having him as your nurse during the evening shift. At first you weren’t sure if it was coincidence or on purpose, but after a few nights of staying up and talking, you grew closer to him. You saw less of the other nursing staff and more of Tom.

You tried not to build anything up in your head. You were sure everything he was doing was in his job description and a part of being a good nurse.

He would sneak you extra pudding cups from the cafeteria and bring you an extra heated blanket because you could never stay warm. If you needed a new IV, he held your hand to ease the anxiety. He kept you company and made you feel less alone in such a sterile and intimidating place. And when he noticed you had trouble sleeping he chose to sit with you to help you fall asleep. You couldn’t help the butterflies that built in your stomach.

It became a sort of routine. He checked on you during evening vitals, even if someone else was doing them, and you were always still awake. He would then come and sit with you and chat for a bit, telling you different stories until you eventually fell asleep.

Some nights when you were extra restless he would help you walk the halls.

“The doctors have to see you’re stable enough before you can be discharged. Plus, maybe it’ll tire you out.” He suggested.

He would help get your IV pole ready so you could walk with it. He helped you into your slippers and eased you out of bed after passing you your robe.

Walking the hall slowly, Tom knew he had to remain professional, yet he found a few excuses to graze his hand across your back to ‘steady you’ when you turned corners or he thought you were looking tired.

“It might take me a while to get back to my usual jogs in the park, huh?” You laughed in spite of yourself.

“You’ll get there. Baby steps.” He encouraged, as you turned around the Nurse’s Station. You missed the faces the other night shift nurses were giving you both, but Tom was sure to subtly flick them off. “So, do you like running?” He asked as you headed back towards your room.

Throughout your late nights together, he told you of his three younger brothers and his dog named Tessa. You spoke about what you would do when you were out of hospital. He talked about his friends and flatmates and the adventures they had. He told you many stories, but each morning when you woke up he was clocked out and the day shift nurses were there.

Tonight was your last night. You’re set to be discharged tomorrow and while you are ecstatic to go home, you’re going to miss one thing about this place.

“I bet you’re too excited to sleep tonight. I don’t know if my stories will even help.” Tom said as he sat down next to you.

You smiled up to him sweetly.

“What are you looking forward to the most once you get out of here?”

“Sleeping in my own bed.”

“Well that’s no surprise.” Tom laughed, a contagious sound making you giggle as well. “Isn’t there anything you’ll miss about this place?”

“Yeah.” He smiled “There’s one thing.”

“What’s that?” He asks.

“The pudding cups.”

“Ahh the pudding cups of course.” You giggled while fiddling with the IV line.

“They just don’t taste the same in the outside world.”

His smile grew wider as you giggled.

“No, but really. As much as I give this place grief and say I’m ready to get out of here - which I am,” You gave him a pointed look to which he held his hands up in mock surrender, fully believing you, “it hasn’t been too terribly awful I guess.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad we could make your stay not too terribly awful.. I guess.” He teased. “Do you have anything exciting to look forward to once you’re a free woman?”

“Nothing huge planned, really. The doctors did say to take it easy.”

“That’d be wise.”

“Yeah. I’ll just lay low for a while. My sister said she may try to come visit me though so that would be nice.”

“Oh that would be nice. She’s your older sister right?”

“Right. She moved away last year to be closer to her boyfriend.”

“Ah. Do you like him?”

“Sorry?”

“This boyfriend. Do you like him?”

“He’s alright, I suppose. He makes her happy.” Tom nodded along.

“And do you have a boyfriend that makes you happy?”

“N-No. No I don’t. Not at the moment.” You began fiddling with the IV cord again.

“No boyfriend or not a boyfriend that makes you happy?” He asked.

“Neither.”

“Well that’s a shame.” If the heart monitor was connected you would’ve been screwed. “I just mean someone needs to look after you once you get home. I hope this sister comes through for a visit. You’ve got to take it easy.”

“Oh I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will be.” He smiled.

“How has your shift been tonight? Busy?” You asked, fighting back a yawn.

“A bit busier than usual. There was a slight emergency earlier which is why Shelley handed out meds tonight. Sorry I didn’t come around.”

“It’s alright. I know you have other patients.”

“Yeah, but none like you.” You were sure he said that to all of his patients. After all, you’ve heard similar lines ever since you went to the pediatrician as a child. But it still gave you butterflies.

“Are you getting sleepy?”

“A little. But it’s okay.” He gave you a pointed look but continued to talk anyway. “It’s the last night. One final request for storytime. Make it a good one.”

You thought for a moment before asking your question.

“Do you ever wish that life turned out differently? That you never had your accident and you could’ve followed your dreams to be a dancer?” You asked while turning on your side and getting more comfortable.

“Sometimes. At least, I used to. But I think I’ve accepted it now. And I really can’t see myself doing anything but this.” You nodded taking in his answer “I look at it this way. If it wasn’t for my injury then I never would’ve changed my career path and found my love for medicine. I never would have made so many of the friends I’ve made or the memories I’ve made. I never would have met you.” He finishes with a sweet smile.

“That’s a very positive way of looking at it.” You told him. “Be honest, are you a therapist during the day?” He laughed out loud.

“No. I’m not. I guess I’m a big believer in ‘everything happens for a reason’.” You nodded while covering a yawn.

“So I’ve been curious to ask you,” He began, “Do you usually have this much trouble sleeping? Because you can get help for that you know?” You smiled at him.

“What? I thought a night nurse talking to you was the cure?” Tom smirked and shook his head. “I’m kidding. No, I normally don’t. It’s just the stiff sheets and hospital sounds I think.”

“Darn hospital.” He rolled his eyes and joked. “So this time tomorrow you’ll be sound asleep in your own bed then?”

You knew it was meant to be a happy statement, but you were a little sad at the thought of not having any more late night chats with Tom.

“Yes. Thank God.” You forced a smile.

You felt another yawn coming and tried to hold it back. It was already past the usual time that you fell asleep.

Tom could tell you were exhausted so he launched into a story from nursing school, hoping to lull you to sleep.

You yawned your way through listening, trying to soak up every last moment with Tom. In the morning he wouldn’t be here. You’d leave and likely never see him again.

When he finished, your eyes were half open and he wondered how you were still awake. Or maybe why.

“Why are you fighting it? The point is to sleep. Give in.” He told you gently after another yawn.

You looked up at him, half asleep and rubbing your eyes, not finding the confidence to tell him the true reason you were trying to stay awake.

“I’m happy right now.”

He smiled down at you.

“I am too. But you need your sleep, darling.” You weren’t sure what to say and you didn’t have much energy left in you anyway. “How about this. I’ve probably been in here too long as it is. Let me go check in at the Nurse’s Station and then I’ll come back and check on you soon and see if you’re still awake okay?”

The thought that he was leaving gave you a sad feeling in your stomach. You tried to remind yourself that he was just your nurse. Nothing more.

“Okay.” You smiled at him, sleepily, while settling further into the bed.

He stood up and instead of walking towards the door he walked closer to you. He grabbed the thin, white hospital blanket and pulled it closer around your shoulders.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered before he walked to the door.

“Tom?” You called out just before he opened it. He turned around with an expectant look, “Thanks for everything.”

Even though the room was dim you could see his smile.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

You don’t remember much after that. You don’t know if Tom came back to check on you. You just remember falling asleep with a smile on your face.

When you woke up the following morning it felt like any other morning in the hospital.

The hallways were much louder. Beeps, chatter, and phones were constant. The lights were brighter.

But you were quickly reminded that it wasn’t any other morning. You were going home today.

The door creaked open and Tanya, one of your regular daytime nurses, poked her head in.

“Oh good you’re up.” She made her way inside and over to the gloves. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. Thanks.” She gave you a smile, something hidden behind it.

“I’m sure.” She said quietly to herself. You gave her a questioning look. “Oh I just mean I’m sure you’re excited to get out of here.”

You nodded as she took your vitals one last time.

“Everything looks good. What do you say about getting this IV out?”

“I say that sounds amazing.”

She took it out and bandaged up your arm while informing you of how the morning would go.

“Dr. McCoy is making rounds now then he’ll be by soon to go over your discharge. You can get dressed whenever you’re ready. If you need help, buzz me. You’ll still have a breakfast tray come, but you don’t have to eat it.” She gave you a wink while taking off her gloves.

“Thanks Tanya.”

“Of course, sweetie. And in case I don’t see you before you go, you’ve been a wonderful patient. Take care of yourself.” You smiled at her as she left you to change into some leggings and a sweatshirt.

You were packing your remaining things into your bag when your doctor walked in.

“Y/N! How are we doing today?”

“We’re doing great because we’re going home.” You smiled while taking a seat to rest for a few minutes.

“I know you’re excited.” He laughed before explaining the conditions of your discharge. You had medicines to take, a follow up appointment, and strict instructions to rest for the next few weeks. After signing some forms he left you with a stack of papers. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”

“Yeah my neighbor should be here within an hour.”

“Sounds good. Don’t hesitate to call us or come back in if you have any trouble or questions.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

A few minutes after he left a nurse brought in your breakfast tray. There wasn’t much of a point for it but since your discharge wasn’t technically until 10:30 am you were still a patient during breakfast.

You took the pudding cup that you requested with every meal off the tray before sliding it away. Smiling to yourself, you tucked it away in your bag. All you had left to do was wait for 10:30.

Tanya came in to check on you again and told you to buzz the Nurse’s Station when you knew your ride was here. At 10:27 you had a text from your neighbor that they were out front in the pickup zone. So you hit the call button.

“Yes?” Linda, the scariest dayshift nurse, answered.

“Um hi. Tanya told me to buzz in when my ride was here so I could go down.”

“Okay we’ll be right in.”

Not even a minute later you heard your door open. Expecting to see Tanya or maybe even Linda you looked up.

An audible gasp left your lips when Tom stood in your doorway with a wheelchair.

“I hear someone needs a ride?” He smiled as he made his way closer to the bed.

“Tom. What are you still doing here?”

“I pulled a double.” You wanted to ask why, but decided against it. You were still in a little bit of shock from seeing him again. “If you’d rather I can go get Linda to walk you down?” He pointed back towards your door.

“No! No.. I’m just surprised s’all.”

“Well come on. I thought you’d be running out of this place once the clock hit 10:30.” Glancing up you saw it was now 10:34. Your neighbor is probably tired of waiting already.

You grabbed your discharge papers and reached for your bag when you heard, “I got it.” Smiling at him, you sat down in the wheelchair. Tom placed the bag around his shoulder and kicked the brakes off the chair. “Ready?” You nodded up at him.

He rolled you out of the room that felt so small for a final time. You passed the Nurse’s Station and waved bye to the staff. He turned by the elevators and when you looked up at him in question, he read your mind. Looked down at you he said, “We’re taking the staff elevators.”

When you made it there he hit the button, turning you around and backing you in once the doors opened. He hit the button for the Lobby and leaned up against the wall of the elevator, briefly glancing at you, as you rode down together.

“Well you made it. You’re a free woman.” He smiled shyly.

“Yippee.” He met your eyes for a moment before looking back to the floor. The dynamics felt different. It wasn’t like your late night talks together.

“Listen, Y/N.” Tom began as he stood up from the wall and faced you. He was about to continue when the elevator ding cut him off, signaling you had reached your destination.

Maybe that was what was different. You had reached your destination.

You had a fun time talking with Tom and entertaining each other when you were both up late at night. He was fun to get to know and you enjoyed having someone care for you. He was easy to banter with and certainly easy on the eyes. But your time at the hospital was up. You knew it would be eventually. You wanted it to be.

Tom was a nurse. He was just doing his job. He was helping take care of you. He was being nice. He was trying to make your stay more comfortable. There was nothing to read into.

Your time being his patient was up and your time with him was up.

You tried to remain realistic, but the sadness still crept up as he rolled you closer to the door.

Once outside, you saw your neighbor exit the car and wave you over. Tom steered in the direction and slowed before rolling to a stop and hitting the brake locks on the wheels.

“Hi, I’m Taylor.”

“Tom.” They shook hands as Tom passed off your bag for Taylor to put in the backseat.

“I’m sorry for the circumstances, but it really has been a pleasure having you as a patient and getting to know you, Y/N.” Tom admitted as he walked around to face you. He grabbed the papers from your lap. “Take care of yourself, okay?” You had shared many smiles with Tom, but this one felt sadder.

“I will. Thank you for everything, Tom. I mean it.” You reached up and squeezed his hand. He gave you a light squeeze back while smiling down at you. Taylor returned from the backseat of the car and Tom turned to them.

“These are her important papers about follow up appointments, medications, what to do at home, all of that so please make sure she doesn’t lose any of them.” He emphasized the point.

“Got it. Thanks.” Taylor held onto the stack while Tom turned back to you.

“If I can’t handle a few papers on my own, then maybe I shouldn’t be going home yet, Tom.” You laughed.

“I know, I just wanted to make sure they made it home with you.” He walked closer. “You ready to get in?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. He helped you up, supporting you just as a precaution. Once seated, you took a moment to catch your breath as you pulled the seatbelt down. He met your hand, taking it from you to buckle you in.

“You good?”

You nodded with a smile, “Just a little tired. No biggie.”

He looked you over before returning your smile, though his didn’t quite reach his eyes, “If you need us, call us. Otherwise go home and rest.”

This was it. This was goodbye.

“Thanks, Tom.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He shut the door. He walked back to the wheelchair, released the brake locks and headed inside. He looked back only when your car was driving away.

“Here’s those papers that are so important.” Taylor handed you the stack after they got in.

“Thanks.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks.” You felt them looking at you as they joined traffic.

“You sure? You sound like you feel awful.”

You try to remind yourself to forget the sweet and attractive nurse and start moving forward.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” You decide to distract yourself by reading through your discharge paperwork, when something caught your eye. On top was a sticky note with the hospital’s letterhead. You were sure it wasn’t there before. Looking closer it read,

Y/N,

In case you need someone to talk to when you can’t sleep.

555-5555

P. S. I have a connection to some pretty good pudding cups too.

Tom

The smile that grew on your face was undeniable. All the feelings you suppressed came flooding in. He wasn’t just being nice. He actually liked you.

One thing you knew for sure was that even though you would be in your own bed tonight, you still would be up, talking to a very special nurse.

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sweetchup · 3 years

Text

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 2: Into the Deep // Ch. 7

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 3,000+

Masterlist

————————

A loud creak fills the night air as you make your way through the empty halls. You feel yourself freeze for a second, holding your breath as you listen for any signs of movement. For any signs that someone else would be in the halls as well. Thankfully no one was actually there and, once you deem it is safe to continue, you round the corner to the staircase.

Tonight marks your third day staying here. Well, technically five days but you don’t count the two you were unconscious. Even though you had asked, as well as begged, Marine to take you to see Triton on that first day he wouldn’t allow it.

“My Lady, You must stay in bed! You are still injured!”

“Please, My Lady! Master Triton is fine.”

“Lord Poseidon would behead me if he saw you up already!”

Which has led you to this. Sneaking out at the bleak of midnight to make your way to Triton’s Manor. Thankfully, yet also not, Poseidon doesn’t station knights in the Manors so you could easily make your way through the halls.

Sorry about this Marine…

You felt bad about tricking Marine like this—You could already imagine the heart attack the poor fish would get once it realized you had disappeared—But you couldn’t stay in that room for one more moment. All day, every day, for the past three days it was all about Poseidon’s and your’s picture perfect fairy tale love story.

Apparently, all of the servants, and you meant all, believed that you had stolen their dear lord’s heart and to protect you from the wicked Amphitrite he allowed you to take care of his son. So when Marissa—who was apparently Triton’s aunt on Amphrite’s side—tried to attack you, Poseidon was so worried about your safety that he made you stay in his kingdom instead. They said it was the love story of the millennium…

Honestly, they couldn’t have gotten more off from what really happened.

“Finally…” You gasp out as you see the exit in sight. Traveling across the vacant grand entrance, you stand in front of the cold stone door. It’s pure size and golden details makes you pause from grabbing onto its handle.

You can do this…

Taking a deep breath, you finally grasp the metal handle and give it a pull.

“It weighs so much…” You mumble to yourself as you put your whole body weight behind your next tug. No wonder Triton was so strong, these doors were no joke. If it weren’t for the fact you were underwater and it made things lighter, you, in no way, would be able to open this door.

If only that magical shield, or whatever it’s called, that was around the whole palace area wasn’t in place. That stupid thing that actually allowed gravity and no magic spells inside its area. You could have just swam out an open window instead of going through all this trouble.

But, what can you do... It’s not like you could actually boss Poseidon around. You were sure that you were on the last straw with that guy.

“Woah…” You gasp out as you peeked outside from the open door that was now wide enough to be able to slip outside.

Due to Atlantis—where Poseidon’s Castle was located—being on the ocean floor, the moon was able to shine down far enough. Leaving the place often dark with only lanterns or other god made items for light. Well, that’s based on what you saw from inside the manor.

Outside was a totally different story.

Angular fish, Jellyfish, Squids, Luminous Shrimps. All of them covered the night sea in a blurry of glowful colors in front of you. It looked like billions of stars in the night sky. Except for the fact they were actually closer to you.

“A Human…?” A squeaky voice calls out. Startled, you look around in confusion and it takes you a moment to realize that one of the Luminous Shrimp was calling out to you. As you raise your hand for it to latch onto your finger, making you let out a small giggle from its front antenna tickling at your skin, it gains the attention of the rest of the swarm of shrimp that were swimming nearby.

“A Human?”

“It really is.”

“Is she Lord Poseidon’s new bride?”

“What was her name again?”

“(Y/n)? Right?”

“(Y/n).” All the shrimp begin to chant as they swim over and tickle at your skin.

“H-hey!” You giggle out, twitching and wrinkling at the strange feeling. Your stomach beginning to hurt as the small giggles turn to full scale laughter. “That tickles..!”

The shrimp continue to tickle you for a couple of more moments—along with chanting words of praises for their ‘new lady’—before suddenly swimming off in a hurry.

“H-Hey where are you running off—“ Your voice pauses as your back suddenly hits something hard. “Wh—..”

As you spin your head around to take a look at what you had bumped into, you freeze on the spot. Oh what good luck you seem to have…

“P-Poseidon…”

At the call of his name, you see the said Sea God’s eyebrow twitch slightly under the light glow of the sea creatures. Ah. You forgot you weren’t supposed to address Gods so casually. Especially him.

“I-I mean, Good Evening Lord Poseidon…”

The cold look on the God’s face doesn’t change as he continues to stare daggers down at you but it at least seems less menacing now. Perhaps it was your internal survival instincts thanking you for avoiding death once again.

…

Ah, this is awkward.

“M-May I help you, Lord?” You ask Poseidon as he continues to stare at you. You were hoping for some sort of response or answer to make the atmosphere less awkward but all you got was a scoff in response. The only thing out of said exchange that didn’t make you angry was how he drifted his gaze away from you and onto the floating sea creatures instead. Just thankful to get his piercing gaze off of you.

What was this guy’s deal?

Not wanting to spend another moment with the rude fish god, you turn and walk away. As your feet tread the last couple of steps of the stone stairs and onto the path, you find yourself looking at the sea grass that stood just yonder of it.

This must have been the area that was originally meant to be used as that ginormous garden as, compared to the rest of the surrounding area, the sea grass stretched out for yards in front of you. Honestly, you guessed two whole soccer fields could squeeze inside the vast circular field in front of you.

Actually, as you stared at the sea grass that seemed to dance in the tide of the sea, you wondered if it was anything like normal grass.

“Ah!” You can’t help but let out as you place one bare foot onto the field. It was soft, extremely soft. You would even compare it to the feeling of silk with its smooth and chill-like feeling.

“Human…”

At the call you tilt your head upwards to come face to face with a giant jellyfish. When did that get there? Also, why did it come down in the first place? The rest of the jellyfish were drifting much higher up. About roof height even.

“Human…” The jellyfish calls again, this time stretching one of its tentacles out towards you. Its smooth purple like texture makes you entranced by it. Ah, was it asking you to shake its hand?

“H-Hello—“

Just as you stretch your hand out to clasp the jellyfish’s, a hand on your wrist stops you. Instantly, you freeze as you recognize the green glove that was attached. Oh god, what did you do this time?

“L-Lord Poseidon-n I wasn-n’t— Gah!”

Instantly your head flies upwards back to the jellyfish as you hear its screeching. Poseidon’s other hand was holding the jellyfish head in a death-like grip. Based on the veins popping out from his arm it was like he was trying to squeeze the jellyfish into mush.

“Lord Po—“ You are cut off as Poseidon’s chilling voice resounds out next to your ear.

“You weren’t trying to do what?” You feel yourself calming down slightly as you realize he wasn’t addressing you. Though it wasn’t by much as you were still pressed against the strong god as he berated the jellyfish in front of you, “Insolent creature. Know your place.”

“I-It was only trying to shake my hand!” You shout out as you turn your gaze up to the god. His chilling blue eyes almost making you want to back down if it wasn’t for the fact you knew you couldn’t. It wasn’t right of him to punish a poor creature that just wanted to greet you.

“Shake your hand?” Poseidon chillingly repeats, a small chuckle laced in at the end as if he finds the situation to be humorous. Slightly, the god tilts his head down. Just close enough to whisper in your ear, “Human. Open those pathetic eyes of yours and take a hard look at my hand.”

Although you were taken aback by Poseidon’s harsh words, you still turn your gaze to look at his hand. Oh. Although his hand was mostly covered by his glove, you could still see the searing red bumps and lashes that decorated across his fingertips.

“Not only that.” Poseidon whispers again, making you jump slightly, “This jellyfish is deadly poisonous for humans.”

“Lord Poseidon-n. I beg for your forgiveness. I only did this because Lady Am—“

“Shut up.” You wince and shut your eyes close as Poseidon encloses his grip on the jellyfish. Crushing its head in a grueling squish. Even though you saw Marissa decapitated less than a week ago, you still find yourself shaking out in fear. Unable to find it in you to open your eyes.

“Tch. Pathetic…”

At first you thought Poseidon was addressing the now deceased jellyfish but you soon find out he wasn’t. Letting out a small squeak, your eyes fly open instantly as Poseidon hauls you up into his arms. Though, you soon regret that decision as your gaze locks instantly onto the corpse of the jellyfish.

Shutting your eyes once again, you shakily lean against Poseidon as you attempt to dull the sickly feeling settling in your stomach. Not even bothering to question or ask where he could possibly be taking you.

It is only when you hear the loud squeak of a door being open that you open your eyes. Looking over Poseidon's shoulder as he ventures further into the building, you try to find out where you were. From what you could see, it definitely wasn’t your Manor as the halls were far too grand. With floor to ceiling grand windows, marble floors, and intricate works of art, it left you speechless.

It is only when your gaze locks with one of the many photos on the walls that you finally realize where you were.

“Are we in Triton’s Manor?”

Poseidon doesn’t give you a response but you pass by more photos and paintings of Triton, you knew your assumptions were correct.

But,…

Pressing a hand on Poseidon’s chest you lean backwards to stare at the god. His eyes continue to face forward, seeming to stare right through your torso that stood in front of him as he doesn’t even bother to gaze up at you, “Poseidon… Why are you helping me?”

Once again, Poseidon doesn’t respond, only giving you a small glance upwards as so to give a glare to show his distaste in how you did not address him properly. You swore this guy changed his mind so much it was giving you whiplash. He decides at one point to full on ignore you and the next to save you from impending danger.

“I thought you wanted me dead.”

This time Poseidon actually reacts as he pauses in his movement and his eyes turn to gaze up at you. Their cold glory makes you flinch at his emotionless gaze.

How did Triton come from this man…

“You wanted to kill me as you dragged me underwater with Triton, right?”

A long pause fills the air before Poseidon finally responds.

“I do.”

You feel the need to flinch under the harshness of his words but don’t. You knew you couldn’t. He wasn’t saying ��I do’ because he wanted to kill you in the past. No. He would have said ‘I did’ if that was the case. Even as he saved you from the jellyfish. Even as he was currently holding you in his arms, Poseidon still wanted to kill you. He still had the desire to.

But…

Why are you still alive then?

“Stop thinking.” Poseidon coldly orders as his eyebrows twitch lightly in annoyance. As if he knew what you were thinking, he continued to answer. “You are alive because you need to be. When you aren’t worthy to me anymore, I’ll throw you away. It’s as simple as that.”

Poseidon continues to stare up at you, seeming to wait for any more peeps out of you before venturing on. He grunts a little as you fall back in his arms, your chin resting on his shoulder as you look around at the items that decorate the halls. The warmth leaking from your body through your nightwear makes him freeze slightly but he doesn’t say anything. Choosing for once not to voice his disgust outloud and instead looking at the items that decorate the halls as well.

Soft…

Poseidon’s fingers twitch slightly as he accidentally graces your warm skin that was hidden under the shirt of your nightwear.

Stupid…

His mind instantly ridiculed and pummeled down the disgusting thoughts that clogged his mind. Especially over the fact that he, of all gods, shouldn’t be intrigued over the softness and warmth of a human.

“Tch. We are here.” Poseidon grumbles out as he finally rounds the corner and opens the door to Triton’s room.

Yet, even though Poseidon thought it would all be over if he reaches Triton’s room and places you down, he comes face to face with another problem.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Poseidon snapped out. Even though you came all this way, and caused a lot of bothersome troubles in the process, you only leave his side for a second to check up on Triton before coming right back. Did you not care about his s—

Instantly, Poseidon stomps that thought out of his mind.

“Your wounds. You’ll need help patching them up.” You bluntly told the god. Even though you had flinched at his outburst seconds earlier, you still reach forward to grab his hand. Did you want him to kill you?

Poseidon retracts his hand and glares down at you.

“I do not need your help.”

“Bu—“

“Gods… have no need for armies. No need for betrayal. No need for support. Such are the gods. Ever since the beginning, we have been the perfect beings. I. Especially. Do. Not. Need. A. Human’s. Help.”

After Poseidon’s speech, there's a long pause. Out of the corner of his eye, Poseidon watches you walk away and believes you gave up. That is until he sees you drag a chair over near him, patting the seat in a gesture to get him to sit down that makes his nose wrinkle up in disgust.

“I—“

“It’s my fault.” You state, cutting Poseidon off as you stare back at him. Your sharp fiery gaze unwavering as they stare back into his cold emotionless ones. “You don’t need my help since you are perfect but… it’s my fault. So I owe you one. So give me your hand so we are even. If Gods have no need for support then they have no need for favors as well. Right—“

“Shut up.” Poseidon barks out coldly. Giving you a harsh glare before, surprisingly, sitting down in the chair. For a second, Poseidon feels his hand twitch as he sees the surprised look on your face, wanting to wipe that fowl look off your face but stops himself as you kneel down to examine his hand.

I’m getting too worked up from a stupid mortal, Poseidon thinks as he turns his gaze up to the ceiling as you pull off his glove. Seeming to begin to treat his wounds.

Stupid…

Poseidon feels himself grit his teeth as your hands softly graze up and down his. Examining it to see what must be done to treat the many wounds. He wonders if this was how you treat Triton’s woun— Stop. So carefully and—

“Stop.” Poseidon bellows as he pulls his hand away from your grasp. This was idiotic. What in the world was going on with him?

It’s just like the time when Triton was born.

Stop.

How warm he felt inside seeing—

STOP.

“Hey. I need to—“ As you grasp onto Poseidon’s hand once more, he instantly grabs the front of your shirt and throws you across the room. Thankfully you landed safely on Triton’s bed, only the wind knocked out of you but…

“M-Mom?”

My, I’ve never seen a look like that.

Poseidon feels his body freeze as his gaze comes in contact with Triton’s. The boy that was once peacefully sleeping now wide awake as he takes in the scene in front of him.

Hmmm… You sure secretly spoil a child you don’t care about.

“F-Father?” Poseidon feels his hand balls into fists as Triton calls that title towards him.

I know you won’t divorce me unless you want something to happen to your precious so—

The loud slamming of a door cuts Poseidon’s thoughts off and he finds himself out in the hallway.

Stupid…

All of this, everything, was stupid.

A perfect being. He was a perfect being. Gods have no need for armies. No need for betrayal. No need for support. Such are the gods. Ever since the beginning, we have been the perfect beings. We have no need for the herd... no need for scheming... and no need for support.

Such… are the gods.

Author Note: Oooo a lot happened this chapter. Especially a lot with Poseidon’s character. Feel free to discuss what you thought about this chapter and Poseidon’s inner monologue. I would love to hear about your opinion or answer any questions if you are confused on some parts.

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq @sproutcorner @orophaea @anime-lover-forever-1127 @fortuna-stella @icy-spicy

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv poseidon x reader #snv poseidon #snv #record of ragnarok #bivalve

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keijislove · 3 years

Note

Can i request #2 and 3 from the prompt list with Harry x Reader please but make it a happy ending? Thank you!!

A/N: Hi anon, omg this was so much fun to write!!! I love Harry and feel that there is not much Harry x reader content out there, so here you go! Hope you like it 😊

‘And then they lived happily ever after!’ Cho finished reading as the girls around her squealed in excitement.

You merely snorted.

‘Why do all of your books have sappy endings?’ you questioned Cho as she looked at you incredulously.

‘Well, its fun to read.’ Cho shrugged. ‘If you were in Ravenclaw, you could be reading diverse romances instead of those stupid muggle books you like so much. For example, what’s this you’re reading?’

She snatched your book and looked at the words you’d been reading.

‘Real love is rare but fake words and promises are everywhere.’ She read out before looking at you. ‘See, this is why you feel so lonely, Y/N. if you’re gonna be reading miserable books like that, then I can’t blame you for being droopy most of the time.’

‘It’s not miserable, Cho.’ You contradicted. ‘It’s a little something called reality.’

Cho snorted. ‘Whatever you say.’

‘Besides, I’m not always lonely.’ You continued. ‘I have Hermione and Ron... and Harry too.’

‘And Harry too!’ Cho mocked. ‘Blimey, Y/N I forgot to ask. How’s things between you two?’

At that you looked down. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Even though you weren’t looking at her, you could almost feel her roll her eyes.

‘You’re lovesick, darling.’ Cho explained. ‘You get this weird glow on your face when you talk about him and your eyes form hearts like in those muggle comics you read. Also, when he’s around, you blush like a tomato. Tell me how this is incorrect?’

You sighed. ‘None of your business, Cho Chang. So what if I like him? I’m probably the 100th girl who does. He has a pretty wide collection of choices, you know. Take Ginny for example. She’s everything I’m not. She’s pretty, popular, outgoing AND she is sweet. I’m a loner, too sarcastic to have too many friends, and it’s not like I can help it anyway. He’d never like me.’

‘Sweetie, what is there not to like in you?’ Cho asked worriedly.

It was one of the many reasons you liked her, she always paid attention to your moods and constantly asked if you were alright.

‘Y’know what Cho, let’s leave it.’ You muttered. ‘I promised Ron I’d help him with his essay anyway. He’s probably eating in the common room. Bye.’

You gave a nod and walked off, but you could feel Cho’s eyes watching you thoughtfully.

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

As you walked into the common room, a chorus of noises greeted you.

‘Fine, I’ll give you five galleons I can.’ Harry was saying.

‘Alright mate, whatever you say.’ Said Ron.

‘Five galleons you can do what?’ you questioned, walking up to them.

Harry immediately coughed nervously. ‘Ahem, Y/N! Hi! Ron here was betting I couldn’t, er, sneak down to the kitchens.’

‘If you know Fred and George, doesn’t seem impossible.’ You said in amusement.

‘Someone summon us?’ a voice called behind you as you turned to see Fred standing there.

‘Oh, yeah.’ You spoke. ‘Ron here thinks Harry can’t sneak down to the kitchens, so he put five galleons on that. I was just explaining how anybody who knew you two could probably sneak off to Mars unnoticed.’

‘We are honoured.’ George bowed to you. ‘But Ron, mate, weren’t you betting that Harry couldn’t ask o-’

‘NO, I WASN’T!’ Ron bellowed, causing you to miss what George said.

George’s expression immediately changed.

‘Harry couldn’t ask what?’ you asked.

‘The house elves to make him some food.’ Fred casually spoke.

You narrowly looked at him.

‘Boys.’ You finally muttered, going upstairs.

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

You were trying to wrench your bag out of the spot it had decided to get caught in, when a voice startled you.

‘Here, let me help.’

You turned around to see none other than the Chosen One himself.

‘Oh, thanks.’ You said nervously as Harry yanked the bag out of the door.

You grabbed it and turned to leave.

‘Er, Y/N?’ you heard Harry ask.

‘Yeah?’

‘I was wondering if, um, you’d... y-you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me?’ Harry asked.

Your eyes grew wide. ‘Are you asking me out? Like on a date?’

‘Erm, yes.’ He said.

‘Oh.’ You managed to squeak. ‘Oh, Oh! Um, y-yeah, alright, s-sure!’

He flashed you one of his stupidly adorable grins. ‘Brilliant!

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

You and Harry had been dating for a few weeks now.

But something was terribly wrong.

Harry had started acting horribly distant, sometimes ignoring you or trying to walk past you in the corridors.

You were on your way to the common room. wondering whatever you could have done to upset him, when his voice caught you before you entered.

‘Ron, I can’t do this anymore.’ He spoke. ‘I know I agreed to your dare that I couldn’t ask Y/N out, but I can’t do this. I’ll give you your galleons, don’t worry.’

‘Well, alright mate.’ You heard Ron say. ‘But I thought you were happy-’

‘I’m not.’

That was enough for you to choke a sob and run off to the deserted Quidditch Pitch.

So that’s what it was.

A dare.

Harry didn’t want to be with you, heck he didn’t even enjoy it.

You kicked away stones in anger, remembering Cho’s voice.

Real love is rare but fake words and promises are everywhere.

That was exactly what the past few weeks were.

Fake love, fake words, fake smiles, fake promises.

It was all fake.

Your thoughts were cut short, as a pair of shoes came skipping by.

‘Oh.’ You heard a familiar voice.

No, go away, please. You thought. I hate you, don’t come near me.

‘Hey, love.’ Harry grinned.

You tried not to gag. ‘Why’re you calling me that?’

He frowned. ‘D-do you not l-like it?’

‘No.’ you coldly responded. ‘You’re here to break up, aren’t you?’

‘What how did you-’ Harry began.

'Is this what this whole relationship was to you? A bloody dare?’ you asked through your tears.

Harry’s eyes widened. ‘You heard...?’

‘Yes, I heard.’ You said. ‘Harry Potter, don’t you ever dare speak to me again.’

With that, you stalked off.

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

Even though you’d convinced yourself you’d never speak to him, you couldn’t help but worry about Harry.

The third task was near, and you were wondering if he’d make it.

He’s made it this far, hasn’t he? You thought. He’ll manage, stop thinking about him.

Sitting in the arena, waiting for him to emerge out of the maze, you couldn’t take it anymore.

‘Cho... if he’s back, just let me know.’ You informed the black-haired Ravenclaw, turning to leave.

Just as you turned, a cheer erupted as you whipped around to see Harry carrying something and lying face-front on the ground.

Everyone was cheering, but you squinted at what he was carrying, trying to make out what it was.

When you focused for long enough, your hands flew to your mouth as you let out a blood-curdling scream.

Cedric Diggory’s body.

And it wasn’t moving.

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

‘Is he... can I see him?’ you asked Madame Pomphrey.

‘Well, I’m sure he’s asleep, dear.’ She answered, frowning. ‘But in you go.’

You thanked her and went inside.

Harry was not sleeping, but he looked terrible.

‘Oh, Harry.’ You sighed, walking to him.

Still not looking at you, he spoke. ‘You still hate me.’

‘No, I-’ you began. ‘I... I don’t. I’m sorry if I made you feel like that.’

‘I should be the one apologising.’ He said quietly.

You sighed. ‘I’ll be late for Charms... see you soon, Harry.’

You bent down to place a kiss on his cheek.

At that moment, he turned his head abruptly, causing your lips to collide.

Gasping, you pulled back.

Entire body trembling with giddiness, you walked to your class.

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

After your little ‘encounter’, Harry went back to ignoring you.

You were sick of it, and one day, while he was returning from Hagrid’s cabin, you cornered him.

‘You can’t hide forever, you know.’ You spoke seriously, arms crossed over your chest.

He didn’t look at you.

Sighing, you stepped forward. ‘We need to talk.’

His head snapped up to meet your eyes.

‘There’s nothing to talk about. I kissed you and you pulled away. End of story.’ He casually said.

‘No, it’s not the end of story.’ You snapped. ‘How could you even, first you fake-date me and then this, I mean for Merlin’s sake Harry, a kiss is supposed to mean something and I-’

‘What makes you think it didn’t mean anything?’ he asked softly.

You gaped at him. ‘You said... you dated me because of a dare and then-’

‘Oh.’ He interrupted. ‘Oh. That’s why you were upset. Oh my god, Y/N, you totally misunderstood me. I... was talking to Ron because I felt that I wasn’t being fair to you... I like you, Y/N. I truly do, and I wanted to date you as well, but I was worried what you’d think when I’d explained it was a dare! And th-then I came to tell you all this, but you seemed so sad, I thought you hated me. Don’t ever think like that, Y/N. That kiss meant everything it was supposed to.’

You remained silent.

Harry blushed and awkwardly scratched his neck. ‘Uhm... and I-I’d like to try that again...’

Your eyes widened as you turned red.

Swallowing your nerves, you leaned forward as he mirrored your actions and met you halfway.

And this time, neither of you pulled back.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x yn #angst #harry potter angst #prompt #harry potter prompt #requested #thanks for requesting!

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kujakumai · 3 years

Text

cleaned up old WIP, 2800 words, AU where Yami Bakura succeeds in switching hosts in DK and Mokuba makes friends with an evil ghost. Not going to be continued but it literally would not leave my brain alone until I finished it.

Things were not going according to plan.

The plan was to take control of a soulless puppet, an easy vessel incapable of interfering with his ends. He had the vessel, had accomplished that much, but he was not expecting the pharaoh and his little friends to succeed and convince Pegasus to give everyone their souls back. So now not only was there a second person in this body he had to keep suppressed, but now he was stuck impersonating a child, smiling through an awkward reunion and then placed onto a helicopter next to a gangly high school student who was watching him like a hawk.

The spirit-that-was-no-longer-Yami-Bakura knew that he was supposed to be Mokuba, but he did not remember the tall one's name. K-something. He had a stupid jacket and hardly took his eyes off him the entire ride, as if he thought his little brother was going to disappear in a puff of smoke when he wasn't looking. Annoying. Infuriating. Luckily it did not seem he wanted to talk, or at least accepted silence. No one expects recent kidnapping victims to say much, which was a boon. A little dazed, a little quiet, a little off, and no one really found it unusual.

They dropped off the pharaoh and his friends, and finally landed at a gaudy and ostentatious house so large it took him a second to realize it was a home at all, an absurd monument to decadence with grounds full of ugly topiaries. Wealth, then. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. He could work with this. The rich kid in the stupid coat quietly held his hand the entire walk up the driveway, until they entered a foyer just as gilded and obscene as the outside had been.

No, things were not going to plan, and playing grade-schooler was awkward and an insult to his dignity, and he was farther away from the other millennium items as he ever had been. He would have to grit his teeth through it until he could figure out the next step. In the meantime, perhaps, enjoy some amenities.

Richie rich sighed, relaxed his shoulders the moment they got inside. He looked at who he thought was his little brother and gave him a small, exhausted but genuine smile. He struggled with what to say next.

"Mokuba," he said, "I have to check on a few things in my office. See what kind of damage they did. Do you want to come with me?"

"No." Finally, a chance to be out of this idiot's sight.

This answer seemed to surprise him, a twitch of skepticism. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

He nodded. Keep answers short, when you're impersonating.

His face betrayed more skepticism, concern, and the tiniest hint of disappointment. As if rich kid himself was the one who was scared to be alone in his own house. He accepted the answer, though, to the spirit's relief.

Rich kid bent down and pulled him into a tight hug and ruffled his hair. "We'll get something special for dinner, okay? And ice cream."

"I do like ice cream." This was true. Ryou Bakura almost never bought ice cream, and when he did it was the stupid healthy kind that everyone knew shouldn't even really qualify as ice cream, which was another reason he was a terrible host. That and the fact that he was startlingly pale and had the upper body strength of a limp noodle and the personality of skim milk. This would be better, even if he had to deal with the abrupt drop in height.

Rich kid headed off towards the staircase with another tired but trying-to-be-reassuring smile, and it was then that the spirit of the ring felt an annoyance in the back of his brain. A presence. A scratching, biting, flailing presence, screeching mad, which he had been suppressing for a while now but finally broke through.

get out get out get out get out give it back its MINE get out

The host, awake. What a bother. More rambunctious than Bakura, then? No matter. He could handle a child.

that was MY hug and MY headpat and MY big brother and you can't have them he's been gone for ages and they're mine not yours get out get out get out

The spirit pushed back, ignored him. Shush. He had planned to hold this body alone, and he did not intend to go back to sharing. If you're good, I might let you have it back for a little while later.

shut up go away go away go away go AWAY

And then Mokuba Kaiba did something, something the spirit was not accustomed to or expecting at all, something which Ryou Bakura had never been willing or able to do. He shoved, violently, and the spirit of the ring was ripped out of control with some amount of panic.

"SETOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Why you insolent little--

Seto Kaiba was not aware of the mental turf war happening over his little brothers body. What he did see was his brother scream his name and fall down, and the whole room echoed with a metal clatter as his briefcase fell on the floor and he ran towards him.

The ring had been discarded unceremoniously to a side table, and not-Bakura-and-not-Mokuba-either had no choice but to wait and observe, as a pediatrician on a sudden housecall shined lights in the boy's eyes and rich kid, who the spirit had since gleaned was named Seto Kaiba, looked on in worry.

"You said you heard a voice?" The doctor asked.

"Uh-huh. I think it lives in the necklace."

"You got that thing at Pegasus's house?" Kaiba asked, in disbelief.

"I don't remember. I was just wearing it when I woke up."

"What did the voice say?" the doctor continued, professionally ignoring any talk about magic necklaces.

"Not a lot. It was kind of mean."

"I see." She turned to Kaiba. "He's fine, physically. You might want a psychologist." and Seto Kaiba made what could politely be referred to as A Face. This was not what he wanted to hear, this was news that worried and annoyed him in equal measure, and to some degree was news he had half-expected.

"He's had a rough few months. I'll look into it." and she was dismissed, and Mokuba hopped down from the counter.

"Can we order pizza?" he asked, with big pleading eyes.

Kaiba watched him with dry amusement. "Mokuba, you can have anything you want from any restaurant in a forty mile radius."

"And I want pizza. Real pizza, from somewhere that doesn't also serve caviar."

"Cheap pizza?"

He nodded very seriously. "The grossest greasiest cheapest."

"I can do that. Anything else you want?"

Mokuba's eyes lit up, and soon he was dragging Kaiba by the hand towards somewhere else in the house. "I got to this really hard level in my game I can't get past and I wanted to see if you could beat it, and I found this really cool video I wanted to show you, and I got a really good report card you never saw, and--" and months worth of pent up requests were tumbling out rapid fire, and Kaiba was smiling with affection and some amount of relief.

Loud and clingy, then, was the normal and expected behavior. The spirit of the ring made note of this, as he lie abandoned.

The ring was still sitting on a side table, in Mokuba's bedroom, apparently because no one knew what to with it or thought it mattered much. This was a problem. The spirit couldn't do anything without a host, and now everyone was suspicious, these stupid rich people worried too much and paid too much attention.

He was forced to sit there all night, pondering about how he was going to get out of this mess, when at one or two in the morning he observed Mokuba wake up, and rub his eyes, and hop out of bed. He did not turn the light on, but he did check the time, and reach under his bed to retrieve what appeared to be a small backpack. He took it with him as he moved quietly towards the door, and the spirit saw his chance.

Hey, kid. He was near enough to speak into his head. Maybe this wasn't a dead end.

"You!" Mokuba stopped in his tracks and looked right at the ring.

Yes, me. This could be salvaged, he thought, concocting a plan. This was a child. Play friendly ghost and imaginary friend. Surely it would not be hard to weasel himself into the good graces of a sixth grader.

Mokuba glared at the ring with suspicion. "I don't think Seto believed me when I said you could talk, but I knew it." He picked it up delicately by the string to examine.

Where on earth are you going at this time of night?

Mokuba was the current host, technically, so there was a connection, and 11 year olds are not particularly used to or adept at hiding their own thoughts, especially inside their own heads. The answer, if not in words but in abstract concept, was provided instantly as it bubbled to mind. He was going to the kitchen, as he did once or twice a week, not their personal kitchen but the house staff kitchen, where he would move a chair to stand on the counter to reach the very back of the highest shelf of the third cupboard to the left, which was where one of the cleaning staff kept a pile of chocolate so he could cheat on his diet without his wife knowing, a fact Mokuba knew through surreptitious eavesdropping. Mokuba's end was to steal just enough of it that he wouldn't be noticed, and add it to a stash of snacks and other shiny trinkets currently hidden in the bottom of a pile of legos in his closet.

...You steal food to hide in your closet? Why would a child who lived in a three-story mansion need to steal?

Mokuba was only mildly perturbed by the fact that someone had just read his mind. He was mainly curious, now. "Our dad didn't like junk food, so I always took stuff to keep around." he explained, "I guess I don't really have to anymore, 'cuz Seto will let me have whatever I want, but--" he faltered, unable to finish or give a reason.

There wasn't a reason, and Mokuba knew that. There was no need to sneak or stash or steal anymore, but he kept doing it, irrationally, for reasons that confused him, a complicated swirl of things a child could not name or understand but were very easy for the spirit to read. Fear; compulsion; habit; the illusion of safety; the sense that your life was precarious, unstable; a need to exert control over your surroundings. It was not the food or the stealing that mattered, but of the hiding, of having something they could not take away from him.

Mokuba didn't understand any of that, because he was 11 and 11 year olds don't understand why they do anything. He just knew he liked sweets and hated people telling him what to do and that having bags of chips and other people’s lost jewelry at the bottom of an old toybox made him feel better.

Can I come with you?

"No! You tried to take control of me!"

Yes, but you kicked me out, and you'd probably be able to do it again, so I would be stupid to try. I also like chocolate, you see, and it's very boring to be stuck here on your desk.

"Can you even eat? You're a necklace."

I can when I borrow a body.

"You tried to take over me so you could eat chocolate? I'm not stupid enough to believe that."

That and other things. I can't do very much at all, while stuck in the ring. No food, no sunshine, no running around. It's no fun to be without a body, which is why I am occasionally driven to steal one. Terribly sorry about that. he added, in his most pathetic-sounding tone, Please? I don't have anyone else to talk to.

Mokuba was hesitant, but clearly found the fact of his existence too interesting to ignore. "Fine." He picked up the ring and dropped it unceremoniously into his backpack, which had a dragon on it.

Not trust yet, but tolerance and curiosity. One step at a time.

You shouldn't go barefoot, you know. Socks will be quieter if you're trying not to get caught.

"I didn't ask you."

So Mokuba descended down the stairwell, in the dead quiet and dark of the Kaiba Mansion, with no flashlight because he knew it well enough to navigate blindfolded. The place was decadent in the ugly way rich people's houses were, luxury but without taste, soft carpets and gilded banisters.

Mokuba had not quite realized yet how to think at the ring, so he spoke in a low whisper. "What are you, anyway?"

A ghost. So much more complicated than that, but simple words were suitable for children.

"How'd you end up a ghost in a necklace?"

I died, and then someone put me in a necklace.

"That's not an answer." he followed up, "Do all dead people become ghosts?"

No. Just sometimes, maybe, if the way they died was especially violent or gruesome or terrible.

Mokuba frowned. He had caught on remarkably quickly to guarding his own head, but the spirit could tell he didn't like this answer.

This was delicate, but he risked a push. Was there someone you had in mind?

Mokuba said nothing. He reached the staff kitchen on the lowest floor, and opened the door, slow and careful. He was deciding whether to say anything, as he climbed up as quietly as he could and reached far into the back of the cupboard, scrabbling.

"Our dad killed himself last year. Jumped out a window." He finally said, hopping down with his spoils. He said this the same way one might dolefully report the milk had gone bad. Unfortunate but boring.

You don't sound very sad.

"Nah, he sucked. And he never liked me." he said, "Seto was really really upset though. He was pretending not to be, but I could tell." Now there were feelings there, big and weird and sad and clinging ones. For reasons the spirit could not discern, the simple phrase ‘Seto was upset’ carried with it more weight, a thousand million times more weight, than news of a father's tragic death by defenestration. "I hope he's not a ghost. I don't wanna see him again."

Probably not.

Mokuba sat down cross-legged on the kitchen floor, unwrapped candy in silver foil. "You really can't do anything from in the necklace? Like, ghost stuff? Make things float or anything?"

No. It is a bit like being trapped in a very small box.

Mokuba mulled this over for a little while. "If you wanted to borrow a body to do fun stuff, you could have just asked."

Really?

He nodded. "Not being able to eat chocolate sounds lame. It'd be mean to just leave you like that." He put one chocolate into his mouth and dumped the rest in the backpack, where they covered the ring unceremoniously. More indignities. "Not in front of my brother, though. And you have to give it back whenever I say so."

...I could agree to such a compromise. Your candy haul is impressive, by the way.

"Thanks!" He grinned, emanating genuine pride. No one had ever complimented him for stealing before.

Tragic, the work of great thieves. How the very best of it can never be bragged about, the most impressive of skills gone unnoticed by nature, how the very success of a perfect crime relies on keeping your mouth shut about it. An unappreciated art, where even mastery gains you no respect.

You don't care that this poor man has to go out and buy twice as much food to make up for what you steal?

"No, he's a jerk. One time when I was six they confiscated my gameboy, so I went to steal it back and he caught me and told my dad and I got in huge trouble. So every day for a week I snuck down here and moved his keys to a different place so he couldn't find them. They were all so mad at him for losing them all the time, and he thought he was crazy."

Why was your gameboy confiscated?

"Don't remember. I think I bit someone at school." he shrugged, "They probably deserved it, though."

Mokuba Kaiba. he said, I think you and I are going to be excellent friends.

"Okay. Do ghosts watch cartoons?"

#unsure if this is good enough to post to AO3 #but it was fun!

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shyficwriter · 3 years

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Temporary Home: Chapter 13

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Nick Fury and Maria Hill

Summary: Seems like that visit had quite the effect on you, enough to send you on a semi-bender. Should they step in? Should they leave it alone? Furthermore, what secret accidentally gets leaked to Yondu while this happens?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Thank you to @allylin05 for the scene suggestion (where Reader couldn't reach something!) And thank you to all the others who have suggested scenes they’d like to see in this series! (I’m still working them in!) As always, if you have a cute little scene you'd like to see in this story, feel free to send me a request! It might take me a bit to work certain things in, but I’ll try to add as many as I can! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 21 of the Guardians living with reader.

Word Count: 5,635

The guardians were getting concerned.

This was different from the other times you'd get sulky and avoid the others. Ever since that night that the couple came to the house, you had barely said a word. All you did was curl up in your room, and when you weren't doing that you were drinking.

They tried a couple times to pull you out of it, to no avail.

For instance, they had decided to begin sparring practice again after Fury's last visit. Two weeks was enough of a break, and they couldn't just sit around going soft while they waited for the negotiations to finish. If they ever did. The first couple times you had refereed for them, seeing as you couldn't join in the actual sparring with your arm injured, but each time they tried asking if you'd like to ref again after the night the couple came, you had refused, not even looking at them as you lay staring at the ceiling or curled on your good side.

Mantis tried using her abilities on you, like she did to make you feel better when Fury punished you, but you barely let anyone near you, and you certainly wouldn't allow anyone to touch you. You either pulled away or sternly told the offender to leave you alone, or in Peter's case, when he got the 'brilliant' idea one morning in the kitchen that you might cheer up if he tried tickling you, a swift knee to the crotch.

Either way, Mantis knew better than to push it. She had a feeling it wouldn't work this time anyway. The effects of her abilities were only temporary, it wasn't a cure. She can ease sadness away for a little while, and if someone was just a little sad they might still feel better even after the effect wore off, but if that sadness was too deep it would only wash back in once the person was no longer subject to the effects of her abilities.

A few times you could be heard walking around the attic, and a couple of those times sounds could be heard like you were throwing things across the room. One of these times one of the gang finally got the courage to go check on you, but they found you had locked the door behind you.

It seemed the "attic is off limits" rule still applied even when you were up there.

This annoyed Rocket, who had been reminded by this recent development that he had never gotten around to sneaking up there to prove to Groot that there were no monsters up there. The fact that you had been throwing stuff around up there didn't help that matter, only convincing the little guy that the noises were in fact coming from the monsters. After a few times of this he angrily went into your room, intent on getting the key and going up there to yell at you for scaring Groot, only to be disappointed to find that the key was no longer in the drawer and annoyed with himself that he wouldn't have thought that you'd have taken it up with you.

The third day of this Gamora pulled Peter aside. They knew Fury would be coming the next day, and she didn't know if telling them would only make matters worse. Did they tell, or stay out of it? Unfortunately Peter didn't have the answer either, he only hoped that'd you'd sober up by tomorrow. He didn't know what was going on with you, but he'd hate to see you possibly get into more trouble with SHIELD because of it.

There was also a bit of a selfish concern for them as well. What if Fury decided you were unfit to look after them and keep them hidden? Would SHIELD remove them from your responsibility and need to split the team up to hide them?

Later that night you left your room and headed to the cellar to pull yet another bottle of whiskey up and take it into the kitchen. No one was in there, just as you hoped. Unfortunately that didn't last forever.

You were mindlessly scrolling tumblr on your phone when Yondu sat down in the seat next to you at the table.

"Mind if we join ya?" he asked.

You glance up to see Kraglin had also sat down, and you wordlessly scoot the bottle in their direction to indicate you didn't care and went back to scrolling and sipping from your own glass.

"So how long are ya planning on taking this bender?" Yondu asked.

You glance up with narrowed eyes and as if to spite him grabbed for the bottle again to top off your glass before putting it back.

Yondu looked displeased. "That ain't an answer." he said cooly.

"Best you're gonna get," you say, slurring a bit.

Yondu leaned back in his chair with an expression Kraglin recognized. It was the same one he used to wear when someone thought they could get away with mouthing off to him. The look of mild bemusement that usually preceded a whistle or a scolding. Only this time he didn't do either.

"Why don't ya tell us what's eating you?"

Your eyes flicked up but you didn't answer. You didn't want to talk. You were sleepy. It was none of his business anyway. What came out was an elegant, "Nothing... your face." This was followed by your also very elegant flipping of the bird before you reached for your glass again.

Yondu, seeing you were clearly past drunk, got to it first, sliding it out of your reach. "I think you've had enough, little lady."

You pout at him. "Give that back."

"No." he responded flatly.

"Dick," you mumble, lowering your head to rest on your good arm on the table.

"Yeah, sit there and pout. That's gonna help." Yondu snarked.

You didn't answer.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you, pipsqueak." Yondu scolded, sort of hoping that the childish name would get a rise out of you.

No answer.

"You think she passed out?" asked Kraglin.

Yondu reached over to grab your wrist, intent to do the whole lift and drop thing to see how out you were, but you only whined on contact and swatted him away, mumbling something about sleep.

"That answer yer question?"

Kraglin shrugged before nodding to the bottle. "I'm gonna get a glass, want one?"

Yondu nodded, not taking his eyes off you until Kraglin came back with a couple glasses and poured the two of them a drink. Something was definitely eating at you, and the way you were dealing with it just wasn't healthy. Even as a Ravager he still knew that. Sure, it hadn't stopped him from going on a few of his own benders over the years, but it didn't mean he had to just watch someone else go through one. Unfortunately he had no solution. Closest he had to one was cutting you off, which he'd already done, and getting you to talk about it, which you wouldn't, and if you were unwilling then there wasn't a whole lot more he could do.

He and Kraglin sat there for a bit, sipping their drinks and killing time with idle chit-chat. They could hear a movie playing loudly from the sitting room. Probably something from that Netflix Rocket had turned on. No matter. Didn't bother them any. Clearly wasn't disturbing you as you slept at the table.

That is, until the sounds of a crying baby sounded from the film.

Yondu noticed you groggily sit up and rub your eyes. You lightly smacked his arm and, still half asleep, mumbled out, "You fetch the baby, I'll make the bottle, ok?" With that you pat him on the shoulder as you sleepily went to stand.

Yondu's eyes widened in a mix of shock and confusion. He shared a quick look with Kraglin. He had heard it too and his face shared the same sentiments. Baby? There wasn't any baby to fetch??

Before you could stumble away to prepare a bottle he was sure didn't exist, Yondu grabbed your good arm to stop you. "Hey there, where ya think yer goin'?" he said, his eyebrows knitted together. He really hoped this was just some sort of drunken sleepwalker dream on your part, and not you acting on some instinct he was sure there'd only be one way for you to have had. He tried gently shaking you.

You blinked a few times, finally seeming to wake up enough to remember where you were and who you were with, who had hold of your arm.

You didn't see your loved one's face, as you expected. Instead you saw a blurry blue that focused just enough into Yondu. You did still, however, hear the cry of a baby; but it wasn't- you knew it couldn't-

Yondu saw how you looked up and realized the sound, and how your expression changed from sleepy and confused to downright anguished. Your lip quivered and his eyes widened. 'No no no, none of that!' he thought, realizing you were starting to tear up.

You pulled your arm away and covered your mouth, turning so you wouldn't face him as pain tore at your drunken heart.

Yondu stood and caught you by the shoulders, spinning you towards the door at the far end of the kitchen, saying, "I think it's time fer bed! Someone's had a lil' too much t'night." He tried to keep his tone light-hearted, but he shot a glance back to Kraglin as he walked you out of the room. They didn't need words to convey what they were thinking. It seemed they might have just become privy to a bit of painful information you hadn't meant to share.

Yondu guided you up the stairs to your room, all the while he could hear you sniffing.

The clumsy opening of your door startled Mantis awake. She sat up and rubbed her eyes to see Yondu guiding a teary-eyed you into the room.

"Back to sleep, Bug." Yondu said. "Nuttin' to see here. She just had a little too much whiskey.

Mantis ignored him and stood from her bed, approaching the two of you as he tried to persuade you into sitting on the bed. Of course, being drunk and upset you weren't exactly very compliant. You kept trying to walk towards the attic door, much to Yondu's dismay and annoyance as he kept trying to tell you you needed to sleep it off.

Mantis watched the scene and knew what she needed to do. Before Yondu could say anything she had already reached out to your forehead and whispered, "Sleep."

Problem was you were a couple feet away from the bed and you fell backwards into into Yondu, who's arms shot out to catch your dead weight just in time with an 'Oof!' He sighed and maneuvered your now unconscious form to your bed, saying, "Ya couldn't have waited to do that until she was closer to the bed?" He wasn't angry, but a slight annoyance still coated his words.

Mantis twiddled her fingers sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

Yondu stood, having managed to lay you flat on top of the bed. "It's fine, Bug. I know you was only tryin' to help."

"Is she going to be ok?" Mantis asked. "That's the third time I've had to do that in as many days."

Yondu raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"At night, when she doesn't think anyone can hear her, she cries. It started after that couple came and said those things to her through the door. I put her to sleep so she doesn't cry." Mantis walked over to your sleeping form and placed her hand on your forehead. Her antennae glowed and she described to Yondu what she read from you. "Her heart aches. She's angry, she's sad, but mostly she mourns."

Yondu swallows. Remembering what had just happened downstairs, another memory came to him. That night under your tree in the forest. He had said something about you maybe settling down and having a few little ankle-biters and then you... oh no. He had a suspicion that he knew what you mourned, and the thought made his heart clench. He still didn't know how that couple showing up might have triggered this pain in you, but if what he suspected from the pieces he could put together was true, then that was a hell of a loss, and it helped explain to him a little bit why you were the way you were. You were in pain.

Before Mantis could say more he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let's let her rest now, Bug."

***

You woke up earlier in the morning than you would have liked. You could blame it on your throat being dry as sand, the dull ache in your temples, and the feeling like your bladder was in a vice. Oh, the 'joys' of the morning after a night of drinking. Not nearly as fun as the drinking itself. Though, you were sure 'fun' wasn't exactly what you had had last night, even though you couldn't quite remember it.

No matter. Time to shower and get yourself presentable. Fury would be coming today for one of his weekly-check-ins and it'd be unprofessional to greet him wearing last nights clothes and possibly still smelling of alcohol.

Today you had a chance of being told you no longer needed the sling, so you tried to at least be happy for that as you gathered a change of clothes for your shower and thanked whatever higher-being that might be listening that the bathroom was free.

***

Fury showed up about mid-morning with the same doctor as last time.

You pretended to be a good little soldier and sat patiently as the doctor examined you, said you were free to remove the strap from your brace, and adjusted the hinge on your brace for the limited range of motion he would allow your elbow to move while it was still healing. You were given some therapy exercises to do and informed you were still under a weight restriction for that arm.

The first thing you did was utilize the full range of this new, albeit limited, range of motion, stretching your fingers and wincing as you tried to work a bit of the stiffness out.

Before the doctor had begun examining, Gamora quietly asked to speak with Agent Hill alone. They left the kitchen to speak in the hall mostly unnoticed.

"She took the brace off, didn't she?" Agent Hill assumed. "Knew it. She's so damn stubborn!"

Gamora shoot her head. "No, no. That's actually not it. It's something else."

"Really?" Agent Hill looked surprised.

"Yes. She followed all of Fury's orders. It's about something that happened the other day. This couple came to the house-"

Maria looked alarmed. "Did they see any of you? If you were compromised you shouldn't have waited this long to tell us."

"No, it wasn't anything like that" Gamora said, slightly frustrated with the interruptions. She explained that you seemed to know them, how you had closed all the curtains and shut off the lights just before they arrived and pretended not to be home. She told her how they had spoken to you through the door, and that you had been upset and closed off ever since.

Maria frowned. "Do you know what they looked like? What they said?"

Gamora shook her head. "I never saw them, but they said something about how something wasn't her fault, that they forgave her? I don't know what they were talking about, she wouldn't say, but she's hardly left her room since then and we're just a bit concerned and thought we should tell somebody."

Maria nodded. "I'll speak with her."

Gamora nodded in return. She got the feeling that Maria knew the significance of the couple's arrival, but wasn't going to say, so she didn't ask.

They returned to the kitchen just as the doctor was finished. Agent Hill requested to have a word with you in private while Fury briefed the Guardians on the lack of update on their situation.

You rose an eyebrow at her, but obeyed, and the two of you made your way out to the front garden.

Maria spoke first. "How long have we worked together?"

"Almost since I first started, you helped train me. Why?"

"And we've come to know each other decently well in that time, yes?"

You look at her, confused. "Yeah? What is this about?"

"You know you can talk to me, right? If something's wrong?"

"I don't need to talk-"

Maria rolled her eyes. "Oh yes. Ms independent. Ms 'I don't need anyone.' I get it. I do. But maybe letting people in every once in awhile couldn't hurt."

"Are you going to tell me what this is about or not?" you say irritably.

"One of your charges has expressed concerns."

You looked confused and surprised. "Who? Why?"

"Doesn't matter. And they told me that you had a couple visitors the other day. My informant didn't know who they were, of course, but I have a pretty good idea, especially after I was told what they said to you."

You look off towards the road bitterly.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Maria asked.

Your gaze shifted from her to the ground and back a couple times. Finally you relented. "They said they forgave me. What am I supposed to do with that?" Your gaze was hard as you looked into her eyes.

"Accept it?" Maria said with almost a laugh, her eyebrows knitted together. "Maybe take a page out of their book and try to forgive yourself?"

"But it was my fault," you respond.

Maria can see the pain in your eyes. Her eyes soften. "It wasn't, though. It wasn't your fault. You have to understand that."

"No, you don't understand," you say, pain present in your voice. "Put yourself in my shoes. Tell me, that if it was you, that you wouldn't believe it was your fault then!"

Maria didn't answer.

"That's what I thought."

"Look, I have the ability to see reason because I'm not in your shoes. I can see that it wasn't your fault. You can't hold yourself accountable for what other people have done to you."

You give her a hard look but don't respond. After a few moments you see Fury come out the front door with the doctor and you finally say to her, "Are we done?"

She follows your gaze to see Fury before turning back to you. You can tell she wants to say no, but she settles for, "I suppose. For now."

The two of you walk back towards the front door to meet Fury. He tells you that he's pleased to see you followed orders, but to make no mistake, he still has Gamora looking out to make sure to follow through with the doctor's orders until your arm is healed, or until he can trust you no longer need that type of supervision. Whichever comes first.

You begrudgingly nod and they leave, you heading back inside.

***

You had decided to not confront them about who told Maria about the couple. If she was right, and they really were just concerned, then you decided it was better to just not make them concerned anymore. No concerned Guardians, no one getting SHIELD involved with your personal life.

You decided to not head back to your room after Fury and Agent Hill left, rightfully convinced that it had been how you more or less hid away for three days that alarmed them. Probably the drinking too, but jury was out if you'd stop that or not. What were they going to do? Stop you?

Actually... you did have a faint memory of Yondu pulling your drink away from you last night... Oh well. You were sure they wouldn't do it again, but that was a question for later. Now, you were going to go check your neglected garden.

Only, when you got there, you found it wasn't nearly as neglected-looking as it ought to be considering you hadn't visited it in over a week. You cocked your head and raised an eyebrow. Who had kept it?

On cue, Kraglin spoke up behind you. "Um, hey."

You turn to face him.

"Hope ya don't mind. Kinda kept it nice for ya, while you were- you know..."

You were taken aback. "Oh- um. Thank you. You didn't have to-"

"I know." Kraglin said, rubbing the back of his head. "Back before we- Yondu an' me- joined Pete's team we were on a lot bigger ship. Lotta crew. We had an areas for growin' food on board, helped keep fresh stuff around so people didn't get sick. Anyways- used have to shifts in those areas some when I was younger. Still remembered how to do most of it. Figured I should make myself useful when you couldn't do it- Ya know, something to do."

You glance back at the garden. "I guess, um, if you like it, I could let you help me next time, if you want, then," you reply awkwardly. "You did a nice job- thanks."

Kraglin smiled a bit. "Sure thing. Beats sitting around."

You crack a smile at that and look to the ground briefly. "Well I guess I'll find something else to do now, since this is done." With that you walked past him and back into the house.

You get back inside to a commotion in the kitchen.

Mantis is crying and panting and fanning her mouth, Gamora is yelling at Rocket, and Rocket is laughing his ass off.

"What's going on here?" you ask, brow furrowed in confusion and concern.

"Rocket tricked Mantis into eating these," she showed you the jar of jalapeños, "and now she's in pain."

You sigh and glare at Rocket, who didn't look sorry at all. You guide Mantis to sit at the table and pour her a glass of milk, instructing her to drink it slow like you had Yondu when he ate them and informing her that it would help. At least you knew she didn't react to milk the same way he did. Gamora asked to make sure Rocket hadn't fed Mantis poison, but you assured her she'd be fine. It was food, just not something any of them were used to apparently.

Kraglin re-entered the house just then and took in the scene. A teary eyed Mantis sat at the table sipping some milk, and you stood behind her, rubbing a hand up and down her back comfortingly, yours and Gamora's eyes both shooting daggers at Rocket, who was still grinning.

You begin to scold Rocket. "What's wrong with you? I know you did that on purpose."

"You don't know that, how was I supposed to know she wouldn't like them."

Kraglin's eyes narrowed. He spoke up. "Now if I'd known you was gonna use them to be mean to Mantis there, I wouldn't have told ya when you asked me which was the hot things Yondu ate. She's too sweet for you to be mean to her like that."

Rocket gave Kraglin a look of betrayal. "Come on. It was just a joke. Did you really think I was asking because I wanted to eat them."

"I thought you was asking so you wouldn't eat them," Kraglin replied, annoyed. "not so you'd make the bug girl cry."

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Lighten up."

"What's with you lately?" Gamora asked. "You're not even this bad on the ship. You behavior has definitely gotten worse since we've been here."

"Has not!" Rocket denied. "If anything you guys have lost your ability to take a joke!" He crossed his arms. "And how come nobody says anything when Star-Munch and dumbass there-" he pointed at Kraglin, "-mess around, but I always get yelled at! It's like I'm the only one not allowed to have fun here!"

You tilted your head at Rocket, contemplating a bit before saying, "Are you trying to say you're bored?"

Rocket threw up his hands. "Of course I'm freaking bored! What do you expect!? There's nothing to do! I can't blow anything up, or make any weapons, or make weapons that blow up! This place is like prison!"

You hummed and nodded your head. "I see..." You had an idea. You were normally against rewarding bad behavior, but you saw this more as an.. olive branch of sorts. Maybe if you gave him something to do he wouldn't be so restless. Wouldn't be so... rude. Give him a toy to play with, more or less. You nodded towards the back door. "Come here."

"Fat chance. Like I'd go anywhere with you." Rocket scowled, crossing his arms petulantly.

You shrugged your shoulders. "Fine by me. I won't show you the workshop then." A smile tugged at your lips but you suppressed it.

Rocket narrowed his eyes. "What workshop?"

"You already know I built you that bed. Where did you think I did that? The bathtub? It's in the shed."

Rocket eyed you, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to trust you or not. Gamora and Kraglin exchanged pleasantly surprised glances, intrigued that you were offering an olive brach of sorts to the bratty raccoon.

"Ok, but any funny stuff and I'll bite your good arm off." Rocket said, moving towards you in an almost cautious manner.

You roll your eyes. "There's no reason why there would be any 'funny stuff.'" you say. You start to turn towards the door, but stop. "Oh, one thing before we go. Apologize to Mantis."

Rocket glared at you. It was clear he didn't want to, but after a few moments he made an attempt. In a sarcastic tone he said, "Oh gee, Mantis, I'm SO sOrRy-"

You cut him off. "Like you mean it, or I don't show you the workshop."

Rocket grumbled something you couldn't hear under his breath before begrudgingly uttering a, "Sorry, Mantis."

Mantis, whose mouth was now much less burn-y than earlier, told Rocket she forgave him and you headed back outside with Rocket to see the workshop.

Kraglin and Gamora watched as you went, completely surprised that that had worked.

***

You led Rocket to the shed and unlocked it, opening the door and motioning inside. Rocket hesitated, but eventually entered after you took the first steps inside to turn on the light.

A workbench ran along the length of one side of the room. On it sat a chop-saw at one end, and a vice as well as a small cabinet of little drawers where you sorted your nails, screws, and other fastenings. Above this workbench ran a series of shelves housing various drills and tool boxes and other odd-n-ends. Under the bench laid an old forgotten and broken step-stool you had never gotten around to fixing.

A smaller workbench sat on the wall opposite side. Above that was a pegboard where you hung different wrenches and screwdrivers and hammers, and above that hung a short cupboard.

In the middle of the room stood a table saw, and behind that, at the back of the room, is what caught Rocket's eye most.

You had a welding station set up, and he immediately walked back towards it.

"I didn't know you had this in here!" Rocket exclaimed.

"You never asked," you reply, slightly grinning at his obvious interest in the welding area.

Rocket looked the area over. It was covered in a layer of dust, showing that it had been awhile since anyone had used it. "This still work?" he asked.

"It should," you say with a little uncertainty. "I haven't used it for years, but I'm sure the tank still has gas in it. We could always find out. I take it you know how to use it?"

Rocket looked back at you. "Of course I know how to use it. It's just basic fire welding, not like it's a plasma welder or anything."

You raise an eyebrow. Apparently he knew his stuff better than you thought... "Ok then. Just let me find the striker..." You looked around the welding bench, but didn't see it anywhere. "Hm... must have misplaced it... let me look."

You walk over to the small workbench, looking in the drawers, but came up empty handed. You check the drawers in the long workbench. Nothing. You looked up at the shelves. Nope, didn't see it. You walk back over to the small bench to look in the cupboard above it. No striker. "I know it's in here somewhere." you sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Then you see it. The edge of the striker glinting from on top of the cupboard. "Damn," you say, your gaze falling to the floor before returning to the striker.

You reach up in vain, knowing you couldn't reach it from the ground, even on your tip-toes.

"Need some help, shorty?" came Rocket's teasing voice. You obviously weren't short compared to him, but it didn't matter. You could have been seven feet tall and he still would have used the jab.

You throw him a look. "Like you're one to talk! And no." You try reaching again and sigh.

"Don't you have a chair or something to stand on?" He was chuckling at you now.

"No." you admit, gesturing to the broken stool under the other workbench. "Never got around to fixing it. Normally I just-" you cut yourself off as you tried to reach up again.

"Just what?"

You sigh. "Climb. Ok? Normally I'd just climb up there, but um," you gesture with your arm in the brace, "kinda can't do that right now." You try reaching again, but you give up. That tactic was obviously never going to work. You look around. "Maybe I can find something to knock it down..."

As you look around you see from the corner of your eye Rocket make a couple jumps to get on top of the cabinet, where he then grabbed the striker and hopped back down onto the workbench and held it out to you with a cheeky grin.

You exhale out your nose as you take the striker and say, "You could have done that this whole time?"

"Yeah," Rocket admitted. "but watching you struggle was funnier."

You ignored him and headed back towards the welding area. Yelling at him never seemed to do anything but encourage him anyway.

You attached a brazing tip to the line connected to the tank, turned on the gas, and clicked the striker up to the tip. It took a couple tries, but the flame finally caught with a whoosh and you laughed in surprise. "See. It works," you say to Rocket. "And as long as you don't burn the shed down or hurt yourself, you can use whichever tools you know how to use."

Rocket eyed you as you turned off the gas, extinguishing the flame. "What's the catch?"

"I just told you. Don't burn down the shed or get hurt." After half a second's thought you added with a slight grin, "Should I add 'don't break my tools' and 'lock up when you're done'?"

Rocket scoffed. "I'm not gonna break your tools. If anyone knows how to care for tools it's me! Hell, they'll probably be in better condition after I use them."

You shook your head in amusement. "Alright." Little guy could be so dramatic. "I know there's an extra key somewhere in the house, but until then you can use mine, ok?"

Rocket nodded but then asked, "Why keep it locked?"

You look out the open door. "Force of habit, mostly... keeps kids from getting in and hurting themselves too," you say, adding, "You know, like Groot. Wouldn't want him to go playing around the tools and getting hurt."

Rocket nodded again. He knew Groot mostly knew better from being with him not to play with tools, but he didn't argue.

"Anyway," you begin again, gesturing to the neat stacks of spare wood and metal material in the corner. "Knock yourself out." you placed your key to the shed on the small workbench. "Key's here. Lockup when you're done and leave the key on the kitchen counter after, ok?"

Rocket raised his eyebrow. "You're trusting me in here by myself?" he asked, sounding more suspicious than confused as you turned to leave.

You turn back to him, slightly grinning. "You said you know what you're doing, and I've already been told you used to work on the ships, so that claim has already been vouched for, so... yeah. Unless you're gonna give me a reason not to trust you, that is."

"No, that's all pretty much right," he said, eyeing you, still seeming unsure. As if he thought it might be a trap.

"Then we're good," you reply. You to leave again when you're stopped by him asking, "What's in this for you?" You didn't know whether to sigh or laugh, so you settled for a mix of both as you turn back yet again. "I figured maybe if you had something to keep you entertained maybe you'd be less of an insufferable asshole."

Rocket looked offended and you laughed. "Now can I leave or do you have anything else to ask?"

"Nah," he replied, taking his eyes off you to now look around the workshop. "We're good. Um... thanks..."

The 'thank you' honestly surprised you, but you only turned your look of surprise away as you exited the shed and said, "Don't mention it."

Rocket watched you leave before turning back to check out the welding bench some more.

Yes. This was just what he'd been needing. He could finally repair the device he smuggled.

#gotg #gotg fanfic #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #yondu lives #yondu udonta #rocket raccoon #kraglin obfonteri #mantis #gamora

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islesnucks · 3 years

Text

LAST NIGHT I TOLD YOU I LOVED YOU - NOLAN PATRICK X READER

this started as a tyler seguin fic, was almost a brock boeser one for a second and turned out to be about Nolan lol

this was not proofread so yeah keep that in mind as you read it

Word Count: 2k

Warning: mention of alcohol (?)

Smmary: the morning after you drunkenly confessed your feelings to Nolan - slightly inspired by the song Last Night by Lucy Spraggan

Masterlist

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Last night I told you I loved you

Woke up blamed it on the Vodka

I genuinely thought I was dyin'

And I could see that smile you were hiding

You woke up and the first thing you felt was pain. There was a banging in your head and your stomach felt sick. Memories from last night were blurry, there surely was alcohol involved. The last thing you remembered was walking into the bar with Nolan and TK by your side, then there was vodka involved. Or was it tequila? Maybe even both?

Feeling like the slightest move would make you throw up, you decided to snuggle further into the sheets trying to go back to sleep, hoping a couple more hours of sleep would make you feel better. That’s when you heard barks coming from outside the room, making your head pound. Then your eyes went wide when it hit you: you don’t own any dogs.

Looking around you confirmed this indeed wasn’t your bedroom, it was Nolan’s. The curtains were shut so the room was dark and you couldn’t see much, but you were able to make out your dress from last night folded on top of the armchair beside the bed.

You looked down and realized you indeed weren’t using your clothes, instead you had one of his old shirts on. Then you noticed your underwear was still on, a good sign you thought. But still you couldn’t remember anything from last night and that terrified you.

You weren't scared of what you could have done, you knew having the boys by your side ensure you nothing bad would happen. So you weren't scared that you had somehow ended up drunkenly dancing on top of a table or making out with a complete stranger. No, the problem was that alcohol always loosened your tongue. What you were scared of was having confessed something you had worked so hard on holding in.

Gathering a little courage and still feeling like you may throw up any second, you got out of bed and made your way out of the room. The clacking of a pan and smell coming from the kitchen let you know Nolan was probably there cooking some breakfast or maybe lunch, you didn’t know what time it was. Taking one last deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, you made your way down the hall to the kitchen.

He was with his back to you, too busy stirring something on a pan to realize you had entered the room. That’s when his dogs approached you excited to see you, making him turn around to find you still half asleep, hair in a messy bun, some rests of makeup from last night on your face, dressed in his shirt that were long enough to cover everything. You were sure you looked horrible but he found it cute, the smile that formed on his face showed it.

“Hey, you’re alive.” He turned off the stove and proceeded to place what turned out to be scrambled eggs on two plates.

“I feel like shit.” You took a seat on one of the barstools by the kitchen island.

“Sorry, did the bark wake you? I was keeping them in the living room so they wouldn’t bother you but Charlie sneaked out.” he said, giving the dog a stern look, but Charlie was too distracted enjoying as you petted him to notice.

“No don’t worry I was already awake, agonizing in bed, but awake.”

He placed the plate with everything he had cooked and a cup of coffee in front of you and you thanked him as he took a seat next to you. He was quiet per usual, but the Nolan you knew would have thrown some snarky remark about how much of a lightweight you are and he’s never going out with you again. That concerned you a bit. However he seemed normal, no awkward looks or anything that made you think you had messed up in any way last night.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” he suddenly said bringing you back to reality. There it was, something did happen. You could feel your heart in your throat, but you tried to play it cool.

“No… Wait we didn’t-”

“No!” he was quick to cut you off, slightly offended that you thought that could’ve happened. “You were wasted Y/N, I’d never take advantage like that.” He then realized he admitted nothing happened because you were drunk, not because he didn’t want it to happen; but you were too busy panicking to realize.

“I know, I know. It’s just that I woke up in your bed, with your clothes on.” you tried to explain.

“We ubered back here, you were asleep the whole ride, I helped you change your clothes and gave you my bed. I slept on the couch.” Relief washed over your body, deep down you knew nothing like that could have happened, but hearing it made you feel better, like a huge weight was being taken off your shoulders.

“Thank you Nols, you didn’t have to.”

“Leaving you alone in your apartment in the state you were in felt wrong.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m glad to know I didn’t do anything too stupid at the club.” you said, letting out a deep breath you didn’t even notice you had been holding on to.

“Well you didn’t do anything stupid at the club...” He didn't finish but that was enough to make you choke on the coffee you had been drinking.

“Shit what did I do?”

“Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry.” He brushed it off as he stood with his empty plate in hand and walked over to the sink.

“Nolan …” you questioned him, but he still wouldn’t look at you. Yet you could see the smile he was trying to hide and that was all the confirmation you needed. Something definitely happened. You got off your seat and made your way around the kitchen island.

“Nolan James Patrick. What did I do?” Your stern tone made him finally turn around with a look on his face you couldn’t quite explain, which only made your nerves grow.

“You said something.”

“Shit.”

“You really don't remember?” He walked till he was standing next to you. “We were here, I had already helped you change, you were in bed ...” he started to explain, hoping it would refresh your memories because he didn’t have it in him to actually tell you what you had said.

And just like that the memory from last night hit you.

“This sucks.” you said letting yourself fall on the bed, not even trying to position yourself correctly.

“Well you should’ve stopped after the third shot like I told you.” Nolan was too busy folding your clothes to see the way you rolled your eyes.

“Not that. This. You are being so nice with me and it sucks.”

“You lost me there princess.” he said confused, brows narrowing but with a playful smile still on his face, the way you rambled incongruently was too cute for him not to.

“Because I’m just going to fall harder for you and I shouldn’t because we’re friends Patty. I can’t be in love with my friend.” you let out matter-of-factly, clearly all products of the alcohol that was still running through your veins.

He could not believe what he was hearing. His heart stopped at your words, but he tried to convince himself he had heard it wrong, God knows the many times he dreamed of you saying those words.

“It sucks that I’m in love with you.” you added and there was no denying it, he heard it clear this time.

“Y/N …” he started to say as he turned around but words died in his mouth when he realized you were already asleep.

“Shit!” you let out and your hands instantly went to cover your face. You had screwed it big time. Sure you could blame it on the alcohol but Nolan knew you, he knew you wouldn’t just invent something like that. And even if it worked, your friendship would never be like it was before.

“Just forget I ever said that, okay? I was drunk and I didnt know what I was saying. Fuck. I'm the worst'' you started to ramble as you walked around the kitchen, unable to keep still because of the anxious feeling deep in your chest. It felt like your world was spinning out of control and all you could think about was all you had lost the moment alcohol got the best of you and you confessed your feelings.

All of a sudden Nolan was standing in front of you, placing his hands on your sides to stop your pacing. You couldn’t look him in the face, knowing the moment he saw you he’d realized how much you meant everything you said last night.

“Hey calm down” He started caressing your arms gently up and down in a reassuring manner.

“I'm so sorry.” you said, tears threatening to fall down your face any moment.

“Well I'm not.” he replied with a humorous tone that threw you off. You shoot your head up at him with a confused expression that only intensified once you realized he was smiling sheepishly at you.

“I’m actually really glad that happened because now I don’t have to worry about how you may react when I tell you how I feel about you.”

“I think the alcohol killed all my brain cells because I don’t understand a thing you're saying.”

Nolan rolled his eyes at your comment but couldn’t hide the smile on this face. His hands went to cup your face, pulling you closer to him as he wiped away gently with his thumb a few tears that you hadn’t been able to keep in.

“What I’m trying to say is: I love you too.” he said looking into your eyes tenderly.

“I swear if TK comes out of nowhere holding a camera or something I’m murdering both of you-”

“I’m not joking! I love you Y/N. I have for the longest time and I’m a little embarrassed it took you drunkenly confessing how you feel for me to have the balls to say it.” Nolan’s cheeks turned red and you had to bite your lip to not make a comment about it. His eyes full of adoration never left yours, making you feel the all too familiar butterflies, but this time it didn’t feel wrong. This time you didn’t have to hide it or push it away. No, because this time you knew he felt the same.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly and all you could do was nod. He started to lean in, heart beating fast in his chest just like yours.

“Wait.” you said, stopping him when he was less than an inch away from connecting your lips. He pulled away to look down at you confused, hands still resting against your cheeks. “I haven't washed my teeth.” He let out a chuckle.

“I couldn't care less.” he said, leaning down to finally kiss you.

It started sweet and gently, neither of you could believe it was happening, too scared any second you’d wake up and realize it was all a dream. That was until your hands met on the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and bringing him closer, deepening the kiss. His hands left your face and moved down your back, pressing you against him as much as possible, clutching to you in any way possible. The kiss intensified with the second and you could not stop, you had been craving each other for so long it felt almost intoxicating to finally know what the other’s lips felt like.

thank you for reading, hope you liked it! likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

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#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick imagines #nolan patrick fic #flyers #flyers imagine #flyers fic #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey fic

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laurie-stark · 3 years

Text

Get up and get out

Summary: Sort of part two to Unwanted. A year after fighting in Germany, y/n has to deal with the insufferable Peter Parker being around the house all the time.

Pairings: Peter Parker x stark!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader, Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader.

Warnings: swearing, angst? i guess? mentions of blood. mentions of panic nightmares

A/N: Again, I want to make it very clear so there isn’t any confusion: Y/n is Tony’s biological child, however, being raised also by Natasha, Steve and Pepper, she calls them Muma, Pops and Mom. Hopefully that makes sense LOL oh and also i’ve never written like...kiss scenes before so just go with it okay?

He was here again. Third time this week that he has come barging into my home and taken over my training center. Okay, to be fair, it was not my training center but still. Peter Parker will never stop being a pain in my ass. Ever since that stupid trip to Germany, he has been coming over and training for hours, or working with Dad. Three times just this week I’ve had to endure listening to Peter talk with his stupid little voice and walk around my house like he owns the place. Who does he think he is? And every time I have to sit through another dinner of Dad blabbing on and on about what a miraculous boy he is.

“Really y/n, I think you two would be great friends,” I rolled my eyes as I picked at my dinner. The rest of the family ate in silence around the table. The last thing I wanted to do is spend more time with stupid Spider-boy. On the afternoons when he was here, I tried my best to stay out of his way. I would stay on my floor and he stays on his. Simple. I don’t need a new friend.

“…And he’s coming by again tomorrow, so I was thinking of showing him A.P.R.I.L. if you wanted to join us-” Dad continued.

What the hell? I thought. “No!” I snapped. “No way. A.P.R.I.L. is mine, I don’t want him messing with her.” Dad frowned at me. The rest of the table looked up in my direction. My shoulders tensed up as I faced my father. A.P.R.I.L. is my baby and I was ready to go toe to toe with him if I needed too.

“What do you mean no? I thought you’d be excited to share that with him,” he started.

“Well I’m not, so back off,” I sneered. The shift in his expression made me want to bite my own tongue. “Please.”

“I seriously do not understand what your problem is. You’ve been complaining for years how there’s only adults but the second a kid your age comes by you’re all “oooh no don’t talk to me Peter!””

I scoffed. “Sorry, I guess I just don’t want to bother you and your new best friend.”

“There it is. Why are you so jealous of him? He’s not that cool. He hasn’t made a fully functioning A.I at the age of 15. He just spits sticky stuff out of his fingers. Honestly y/n, you’re making zero sense right now.”

“Whatever, I’m over this,” I said, pushing my chair back from the table. I grabbed my untouched dinner plate and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m not hungry. And don’t show him A.P.R.I.L., I mean it!” I dumped my plate in the sink and marched right down the hall towards the elevators. My dad was right. I wasn’t making any sense. Ever since I made A.P.R.I.L I’ve used every excuse I could find to shove her down people’s throats. Anyone who would listen to me, I would tell them. Tell them all about how I programmed her to have realistic personality. How she’s running through the walls of this place, through my room, even inside the bracelet I never take off. All I knew is that I didn’t want Peter Parker anywhere near her.

I shut the door to my hard, and flopped onto my bed. A.P.R.I.L. reminded me that slamming the doors usually results in a punishment. I acknowledged her with a half-hearted grunt. I started programming A.P.R.I.L. when I was thirteen. Or rather, reprogrammed. A.P.R.I.L. was made from an older prototype version of F.R.I.D.A.Y. The base stuff was already there, I just moved some things here, recoded there until she was perfect. I don’t know why I got so defensive about Peter meeting her. Or why I had to pick another fight with my dad.

It was easier these days. To fight him, I mean. I suppose I never got over the whole “Peter is better, I choose him over you, blah, blah” thing as much as I thought I did. So, I would pick fights. Fighting over Peter was the simplest way to go, considering he was the reason I was so angry in the first place. Sometimes we would fight over him, other times we would fight over silly things. Like how I keep forgetting not to put my coffee grounds in the garbage disposal. Most of the time it was all just bickering that would blow over in thirty minutes, give or take. Sometimes it was explosive, like today. I took in a shaky breath and sprawled out across my sheets. Sometimes this family is a fucking nightmare.

Dad didn’t come by this time. It threw me off for a second because he always comes by. Even if it’s six hours later and neither of us should be awake, he still comes by with a box of milk duds that we share in silence before one of us apologizes first. That’s how we work. When it finally sunk in that he was not planning on coming, I put A.P.R.I.L. on the job. I figured perhaps he left the compound, maybe took Mom for a nighttime stroll.

“Your father is on floor B, Miss Stark,” A.P.R.I.L. informed me.

“Jesus A.P.R.I.L., how many times have I said to cut the formalities,” I muttered.

“My apologies, y/n.”

Floor B. What the hell is he doing on floor B at…12:00 in the morning? Floor B is strictly for members of household and other Avengers. There are a billion different training rooms down there. Weight rooms, boxing, a huge pool, stuff like that. Not to taint his image, but I can safely say the last time my father willingly worked out for fun was probably before I was even born. Why was he down there? Unless…

“A.P.R.I.L. who else is on floor B right now?” I asked. “Throw it on the hologram, would you dear?

The sounds of the hologram starting filled the room. A.P.R.I.L. pulled up the security map of floor B, like I’d asked. There was my dad, floor B in the boxing room of all places. Pops and Sam looked to be going at it in another one of the combat training rooms. My confusion only rose when another nametag popped up on the screen. My brows furrowed.

Peter Parker

What was he doing here? Why was he boxing? Why was he not in his own home at midnight on a Thursday? My mind was spinning with questions. A knock at my door startled me.

“Come in…”

Natasha popped her head through the doorway. “Hey there…whatcha doing kid?”

I swiftly swiped away the hologram screen and sat up straight. “Nothing. What’s up?”

“Well, we’re getting a little worried about you,” she said. We being everyone else at the table who had to witness my brawl with Dad. She sat down beside me. “You haven’t fought back like that in a long time and I’ve noticed you’re fighting with him a lot recently. You want to tell me what that’s all about?”

I wanted too. God, I wanted too. I hadn’t told anyone what my father said to me that day after the airport, not even my mom. But it didn’t matter. I’d get over it sooner or later, so there was no point troubling anyone else with my problems…right? My eyes started to well up but I blinked away the tears. “No. Everything’s fine,” I put on a smile.

Natasha tucked me in under her arm. “Okay then. Maybe tomorrow.” That was Muma for you. She never pushed me to talk but knew I would come around at some point. In the meantime, she just held me. I cried into her embrace. She let me cry into her shoulder for a long while, until I was empty. After a time, I let go and she got up, giving me a kiss on the head before wishing me a good night.

I rubbed my hands over my face, brushing off any remaining tears. “A.P.R.I.L. bring the hologram back up please.”

“Are you sure y/n?”

…

“Yeah.”

Peter was still in the boxing room but my father was not. Upon further digging, I found the nametag reading Tony Stark on my floor. He’d gone to bed. I pondered to myself as to whether or not I should venture downstairs. What is the worst thing that could happen? Peter is secretly a Hydra spy and kills me? No, I shook my head. Don’t be ridiculous. Another minute passed and I’d made up my mind.

“A.P.R.I.L. engage “I am definitely here”,” I commanded.

“”I am definitely here” protocol engaged. Volume minimized to 5% and your tracking tag will be pinned to this room,” A.P.R.I.L. responded. “Good luck on your mission small agent.”

“Oh shut up,” I chided. I closed the door to my room as softly as I could. It was nearly one in the morning, most of the hall would be asleep. Or at least they should be. The hallway was silent, except for the soft noise of my socks padding along the floor. I cursed myself for looking so ridiculous. If anyone caught me, I could easily say that I was just getting a midnight snack. Not sneaking down to spy on Spider-bitch. Boy. Whatever. Sneaking added to the excitement.

I made it downstairs all in one piece. Steve and Sam nearly passed me in one of the halls, but I had ducked into a briefing room. I could totally be a spy. Maybe I’m a Hydra spy. I thought. And they sent me here as a baby to take down the Avengers from the inside. What was I going on about? This was why I should really be in bed, I was clearly delirious. Once again, distracting myself in my thoughts led to me getting startled. I hadn’t even realized I was outside the boxing room. I would have walked right in if not for the handy wall that I smacked into.

Peter was in the ring, practicing his punches. He’d lowered down one of the punching bags from the ceiling and it was close to ripping at the seams. He was really going ham on it. The questions piled on. So, he came over to my house at midnight to…train? Something he had all afternoon today to do? God, he was weird. I suppose I didn’t quite know what I was going to get myself into when I finally walked in to confront him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, arms folded tightly across my chest.

Peter started and looked down at me. Sweat was dripping down his face. He looked exhausted. “Training,” he said bluntly. He returned to treating the punching bag like it had run over his dog.

“At one in the morning? And after you spent like six hours today doing just that?” I was not letting him off that easy. Peter ignored me and continued punching. “Your form is shit.” I mocked.

That made him stop. “Funny coming from the girl who never leaves her room. When have you ever trained? Like ever?”

“I still beat your ass.”

“Yeah like, a year ago when I was barely an avenger.”

I rolled my eyes. “You still aren’t.”

“What do you want?” Peter spat.

I shrugged. “Dunno.” I stared him down with a smug look on my face.

“You are always such a bitch, you know that?”

I faked a pout. “Aw…bite me.”

Peter was chewing the inside of his cheek in anger. “If you’re going to stay here and pester me, you might as well get a few punches in.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Consider it a rematch.”

I studied his physique for a moment. He’d grown a lot since Germany. He’d also trained a lot since then as well. I had done little of either. I knew that entering that ring would probably end up with me losing my dignity and maybe even a tooth. But I was not going to let him stand there with his stupid, sweaty face and get away with it. This is not a good idea, I thought as I took off my socks. I moved the ropes and stepped into the ring, standing a foot in front of the boy.

“I’ll still win.”

“No powers either.”

“Deal.” Not like I’ve touched my powers since…since the incident.

Peter took his stance and I did my best to mirror him. I realized in that moment that I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know the first thing about boxing. Or sparring. I didn’t know how to fight without my powers. Oh, sweet Jesus.

We kept our distance at first, fists up. He threw a few punches and missed. I followed in suit. I finally got the first hit, a nice throw to his chest. He took it like a champ and didn’t flinch. Or rather, I couldn’t hit for shit and it didn’t hurt. He threw a punch to my left, only to miss on purpose and punched me square across my jaw. Ow. I chuckled lowly. The taste of blood filled my mouth from the fresh cut on my lip. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. All I could see was white rage.

Forget form, forget rules, forget everything. I lunged at him with everything I had. Lunged at him for all the bullshit he had brought into my life. For all the bitter things I had to hear my father say that weren’t even Peter’s fault. He was clearly not expecting my attack because we both fell to the ground. We fought tirelessly on the mat. He was physically stronger than me, so by default he was winning. He wrestled me until I was pinned under him. One hand was pinning my hand above my head, the other arm pinning down my body. In any other circumstances I would be amused to find myself in such a scandal. I looked in his eyes briefly and I could already tell he thought that he was winning. If there’s one thing I learned from Nat, it’s to always step on their moment. I hooked my leg around his knee and used all my force to flip us over. I had him pinned down now, my hair falling around my face. We were both breathing heavily.

“Told you,” I taunted. I was mentally preparing him to punch back but he didn’t. He snapped his arms out from under me and shoved me off him, hard. I fell back against the mat. He rose to his feet, brushing his hands off on his pants. “What the hell?” I exclaimed. I jumped to my feet while his back was turned to me and gave him a taste of his own medicine. He stumbled a few steps after I pushed him. Slowly, he stretched back up to reach his full height.

“You’re right,” he turned to face me and extended a hand. “Shake on the truce?” I took his hand, accepting his surrender. Only, he was not really surrendering. The moment my hand touched his, he yanked me towards him. I tripped over my feet and fell into him. My chest crashed onto his. The world was a blur as he grabbed me with force and spun us around, so he could push me up against the ropes of the ring.

“Stop, Peter get off me you bitch!” I fought back. I flailed my whole body around, trying to break loose. One hand reached up to grab the back of my head, pulling my hair and forcing my head back. I froze. His face was dangerously close to my exposed neck. His shift let my opposite arm break free. I took a breathe and reeled it back, ready to smack him in the across the face. He caught my wrist in time without taking his eyes off mine.

He lowered his head to whisper in my ear, “I win.” His breathe trickled down my neck. He had won, but he wasn’t moving. One hand was still in my hair, the other was pinning me against the ropes. His chest breathed heavily against my own. His grip on my head loosened slightly and I was able to look him straight on. He had that same smug look pasted across his face. His eyes moved from mine, trailing down my face, my neck, my body, before they settled on my lips. I momentarily lost the ability to breathe.

He kissed me hard. I tensed up slightly before giving into him completely. It tasted like blood and sweat and I felt like I was losing my mind. He pulled me closer, if that was even possible and claimed my mouth with his until my knees gave out. A newfound wave of warm washed through me. The hand in my hair gave a slight tug and my lips parted while that same hand moved to cup my jaw. For all I knew, the entire compound was wide awake and watching but I did not care. I brought my fingers to his hair, tugging at the ends. I smiled cunningly when he groaned into my mouth. He kissed me greedily and fully. Like he hated me. And I hated him.

We broke apart, limbs numb and chests heaving. The moment had passed, and our actions sunk in. What. The. Fuck. He lifted the ropes for me, and I climbed out of the ring. My head was still spinning from that kiss and my lip stung. Consequences I suppose, for kissing someone with a busted lip. I silently pulled my socks back on and Peter handed me a towel. Neither of us said another word. I left the room and didn’t look back. I could hear him behind me, but I was in no rush to have to look him in the eye ever again. What just happened?

I woke the next morning to A.P.R.I.L. alerting me that “Father Dearest” was outside my door. He came in and sat on the edge of the bed. We both stayed quiet for a while.

I spoke first. “Where were you last night? You didn’t come by after…” I let my words trail off.

“I was going to, I swear. But then something came up with Peter and I had to go take care of that,” Dad answered.

I frowned. “Typical. Peter over your own flesh and blood, right?”

Dad inhaled sharply like he was going to bite back, but changed his mind. “That’s not true and you know it. Peter is…he’s going through something and I knew how to help him. Not everything is about you, you narcissist,” He said, joking at the end.

I had to push down my own smile. “Yeah well where do you think I got it from?” I sat up and leaned into my father. He brushed a hand down my back. “So, what’s wrong with Peter then?”

“I really shouldn’t tell you, it’s personal.” I looked up at him with my doe eyes. He rolled his eyes and sighed, nodding a silent defeat. I felt like I was nine again and he was gossiping with me about the latest secretary. Like every fight had been forgotten in this moment. “He’s been having some nightmares ever since DC. You remember the ones we used to get after Loki?” I nodded. “Now you, you always amazed me at how you handled those. But for me and Peter, we needed a different outlet. So, I let him come over in the middle of the night. I didn’t think anyone would notice.” I hummed in response, not sure what to make of that information. I mean, I kind of felt bad for the guy. He was still a bitch, but those dreams suck. No one should have to deal with them. “He really isn’t as bad as you think, you know.”

“Yeah,” I hummed. “I think you’re right.”

tag list:

@runawayolives @ creation-magician @ eridanuswave @ markhyucksmells @ beep-beep-losersclub

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youngbeezer · 3 years

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Do you Believe in Happily Ever After? | Joel Farabee

A/N: Hello again! I got such a great response to my first fic I posted which literally made me so happy, so thank you so much to anyone who gave me the time of their day to read my fic. Here is a new fic for mr. joel farabee!! This one is a little longer and I tried my best, feedback always appreciated, but I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Few curse words, overall just fluff

Word Count: 2160

Tagging a few people again so this doesn’t flop,,,

@ollywahlygator @joshsandersons @joelsfarabees @fratboyzegras @sorokns @butgilinsky @ricohenrique

I haven’t been to too many weddings in my life. I attended one for my uncle when I was around 10 years old but I don’t remember much from it. My mother also got remarried around 3 years ago, but up until this year, weddings weren’t a natural occurrence in my life.

This past year though.. I’ve attended two weddings, got an invitation in the mail today for another one, a close friend of mine just recently got engaged (so that invitation will be coming sometime in the near future), and one of my best friends’ wedding is tomorrow. Now I feel like everywhere I look, I am surrounded by love.

Now I’m not saying that is a bad thing, but when every one of your friends are either having kids, getting married, or in serious relationships, it starts to feel a little discouraging. Is there something wrong with me? Am I the reason why I’m still single?-- No, I refuse to think like that! I could get a boyfriend if I wanted to. Maybe my friends are right though… Maybe I’m not putting myself out there enough.

Anyway, one of my best friends, Karly, is getting married to her long-time boyfriend Travis tomorrow. I’ve met Travis, or as everyone seems to call him ‘TK’, a handful of times and I know he plays for the Philadelphia Flyers hockey team-- which is cool I guess, but other than that I don’t know much about his personal life or who he hangs out with.

Karly and I met running into each other at a cafe once. Yeah, yeah I know it sounds like one of those cliche romantic meetings, where two people bump into each other and immediately fall in love. I mean we did hit it off almost immediately and from there we became like two peas in a pod-- just not in the way you think. I’ve always wondered though, if maybe I ran into a handsome man at a coffee shop or walking down the street, would I be having my happily ever after right now?

I snap out of my thoughts when an incoming call from- speak of the devil, the bribe to be. Before I can even say my greetings, Karly jumps right into business;

“Ok! So since you weren’t able to come to the dress rehearsal or rehearsal dinner. I’ll give you the rundown on what you need to do.”

Oh yeah, did I mention that I am one of the bridesmaids? Sadly, I was not able to attend the functions before the wedding due to not being able to get time off from work. But, Karly was super cool with it, which brings us to the reason for this call.

“Ok so basically, your dress and everything is already in the bridal suite, so everything will be ready for you when you get here tomorrow. You’ll be walking down the aisle third with one of Travis’ buddies Joel-- he plays on the team with Trav and he’s such a sweet guy he’ll definitely help you out if you need anything.. You know now that I think about it you guys would be such a cute couple-”

“Uh Karly? I don’t think now's the time to play matchmaker, when we should be preparing for your big day tomorrow.” I cut her off.

“Alright, alright. But I will be coming back to that thought. Ok so anyway--”

After that I kind of zone out from trying to keep up with whatever Karly is spitting at me right now. While still on the phone, I pull out my laptop and search for the name ‘Joel’ with ‘Philadelphia Flyers’ next to it in search of this man who is said to be walking me down the aisle. Right away the name ‘Joel Farabee’ pops up with a wikipedia and multiple photos. Hm this guy is kinda cute. Just as I go to click view more images, Karly’s words register back in my brain;

“Ok y/n, did you get that?”

“Hm.. oh yeah! Got it. What time should I be there tomorrow?” I ask, praying that she didn’t already mention that and realize I wasn’t paying attention.

“8 AM sharp,” she responds all giddy.

I suddenly remember that my best friend is actually getting married tomorrow. Feeling giddy as well I reply, “Sounds good. I am so happy for you Karly and I can’t wait to see how beautiful you look tomorrow!”

Karly does a little shriek in response and reiterates her excitement as well. We then say our goodbyes and I wish her a great last night as an unmarried woman before hanging up. I got back to what I was working on before the call and all my jumbled thoughts entered my brain, totally forgetting about a certain someone named ‘Joel’ as I exited the browser.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning I arrive at 8:17 AM at the wedding venue and as soon as I exit the Uber, I start booking it to the bridal suite. When Karly says to be somewhere at 8 AM sharp, you be there at 8 AM sharp, and I’m not particularly fond of facing her wrath today, especially on her wedding day when stress levels are through the roof.

There’s just one problem though… Since I wasn’t able to attend the rehearsal, I have no idea where I am going.

Trying to recall the directions Karly told me on the phone last night (when I wasn’t paying attention), I take a sharp turn around a corner looking the opposite direction and suddenly collide with a dead end. Wait- no that’s not a dead end, it’s a person.

Immediately going to spit out an apology, I stop dead in my tracks when I make eye contact with the handsome man I bumped into.

“Oh shit! I am so sorry. Are you alright?” I see his lips moving, which are very nice to look at by the way, but my mind doesn’t register his words as I stare dumbfoundedly at this handsome stranger. Who, now that I think about it, looks a little familiar.

When I still don’t answer, the familiar stranger clears his throat before giving me a once over of my whole body, which does little to bring me out of my trance. If anything I now start to feel my whole face flush from noticing him obviously checking me out.

His face then seems to light up in recognition before asking, “Wait, are you y/n?”

When he notices my look of confusion on how he knows my name he continues, “I’m Joel, Joel Farabee.” Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, I notice a slight blush coating his cheeks before he adds, “We’re paired to walk down the aisle together… Um, also I think Karly is looking for you. She was kind of freaking out a little.”

With that last sentence my whole body comes back to life realizing that I am late and Karly is going to kill me. Hurriedly I exclaim “Oh my gosh! I am so late and I have no idea where the hell I’m going.” I frantically search around for any directions to point me to the bridal suite.

Joel kindly puts his hand on my shoulder, which immediately ignites a fire on the skin he is touching, before he reassures “Hey, you’re good. Just take your first right down this hall and then it will be at the end of the corridor, you can’t miss it. Seriously. She hung up streamers and balloons everywhere with a poster on the door that says ‘Bridal Suite. NO BOYS ALLOWED’.”

Letting out a soft snort I gently thank Joel before rushing in the direction he pointed me to. Before turning right, I sneak a quick glance over my shoulder to find Joel already glancing my way. My heart does a little flutter when we make eye contact and he gives me a little lopsided grin before going on his way.

What just happened…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As soon as I walk through the doors of the suite, I am immediately ambushed by the bride to be on why I was late, until she notices the deep blush covering my cheeks, which then prompts another ambush on what made me blush.

I change the topic as quickly as I can and direct our attention on getting ready for the ceremony. Karly looks absolutely beautiful in her white gown and her hair all dolled up. She doesn’t even seem remotely nervous for today as well. Most weddings I have been to, the bride is always going batshit crazy making sure everything is perfect or worrying that her soon to be husband might back out. That just shows how happy and comfortable Karly and Travis are in their relationship. God, I wonder what it must feel like to have that kind of love that is so solid and healthy. Suddenly my mind starts drifting to what it would be like to have that type of relationship with Joel.

Oh who am I kidding? I just met the guy. Sure, when his hand touched my shoulder my whole body felt like it was on fire. And yeah, maybe when he gave me that little lopsided grin it gave my entire stomach butterflies. Oh jeez. Today is gonna be a long day…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ok now I feel like my whole body is going to explode. He is looking at me like I’m now the bride and he is the groom. And suddenly, I’m wishing that were the case. We are getting closer and closer to walking down the aisle together, and every step we take towards one another my stomach does a little flip.

When we finally reach each other, he offers his arm for me to take as he speaks, “Wow… Uh yeah wow, you look gorgeous.”

Blushing, I respond with a quiet “Thank you.”

“Guess I was the lucky one eh? In case I end up tripping and making a fool of myself, no one will even be paying attention because all eyes will be on you.” There’s that little lopsided grin of his again.

“Well aren’t you a sweet talker.” I responded.

He just gives me a subtle wink before we ascend through the doors and down the aisle where Travis is waiting for the big moment. He gives us both a little smirk before we part ways like he knows something we both don’t.

…

Eventually Karly walks down the aisle looking like an absolute princess. The officiator says his whole ordeal, Karly and TK both say their vows to one another, there are lots of tears, and Joel and I can’t seem to keep our eyes off of each other.

After the ceremony, we all head in the direction of the reception hall where the real fun begins. Don’t get me wrong, the wedding was spectacular, the way everyone expected it to be. Now as music filled the air with a giddy sort of elation, the newlyweds looking beautiful and so happy while dancing, friends and relatives chatting between one another about this and that; I can’t help but feel a little bittersweet about it. I want this. I want that giddy elation to be surrounded around me, I want to wear that beautiful white gown, I want the guy to be looking at me like I just hung the moon while we had our first dance. Where’s my happily ever after--

“You know you never properly introduced yourself?”

Startled, I spun around to find the source. Joel.

I give him a sweet smile before returning my gaze back to the happy couple and responding, “Y/n y/l/n.”

He follows my gaze and lets out a little sigh before expressing “They’re perfect for each other, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they really are.” Before I can get another word in Joel blurts;

“Do you wanna dance? Like,” He stumbles a little with his words, “like with me?”

Letting out a soft giggle, I happily reply, “I would love to.”

Seemingly relieved, Joel takes my hand and leads me out onto the dance floor as soon as a slow song comes on. He puts his hands respectively on my waist while I put mine around his neck inching him closer to my body. We dance with each other for a while, even after the song is over and a fast high tempo song blasts through the speakers. It’s like we are lost in each other, just savoring this ‘moment’ together.

Eventually after the fourth song comes on and we are still dancing, Joel pulls away just a little to look me in the eye before softly whispering “Do you believe in happily ever afters?”

Seeing that look in his eyes again, the one where it seems like he is looking at me like I just hung the moon? I answer in that same soft whisper, “Yeah… yeah I think I do.”

#joel farabee #joel farabee imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #joel farabee fic #ahh i just wanna dance with joel farabee and immediately fall in love with him #hope you liked it :)#my writing

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savoies · 3 years

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Remember Those Days - Dylan Holloway.

Summary: Dylan forgets your anniversary and slowly remembers.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of sex and maybe a few bad words.

A/N: This fic went through about five rough drafts until I finally came up with one I liked. It was supposed to be an angst fic but hey we deserve something cute every once in a while, enjoy!

taglist: @hartsyhart @nhlpetey @mitch-slap @frostythegoalman @ryanssuzuki @aria253264 @josty @kaitieskidmore1 @kiedhara @laurenairay @teenagekook @alxvlasic @hockeyallthetime @barzy-baby @officialgritty @bowenbyram @mems06 @joshsandersons @connormcdavo @maattamatthews @pierreslucdubois @selenophileangel @boqvistsbabe @ana-maa @stars-canucks

tagging some friends: @npatrickz @bestestbenn @heybarzy @tkachuk-yeah @cozycozzy @2manytabsopen .

(*credit to the gif owner*)

Today was your third year anniversary with Dylan. Honestly after a few years today your anniversary date was just spent at home doing whatever your heart desired together. Well today it seemed as though your boyfriend's heart desired to be with his friends.

“Babe I'm gonna hang out with the boys, I'll see you later ok.” he said as he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Oh ok, but you’ll be home before six right?” you asked.

“I was planning on coming back around ten, just depending on what we do, why do we have plans?” He asked, raising his eyebrow questionly. You shook your head no and let him walk out. You didn’t want to be one of those significant others that made a big deal out of it. You knew he was forgetful. I mean last week he had forgotten where he had left his phone the night before. You were used to this. At least you thought you were. Looking back at your time together Dylan had never forgotten any special dates. He had remembered all your firsts together down to a t.

Your first date.

First dates. Stereotypical to be an awkward time between two people to decide if they like like eachother or not. Well for you and Dylan that was not the case. Most sixteen year olds would go out to the movies or go down to the carnival in town (if there was one). But not you and him. Having grown up as acquaintances you were used to having him around. Honestly kind of surprised when he had asked you out but I mean hanging with Dylan was always a good time. It was a simple gesture and quite frankly you weren't sure how to say no. You had just gotten off of school and since both of you lived so close to each other he just decided to walk with you instead of asking one of his friends for a ride.

“Hey Y/N wait up.” you turned around to be faced with the smiley blonde haired boy that you had grown accustomed to.

“Hey Holloway, whats up.” you spoke up as you kept your eyes trained on the ground.

"You busy tonight?” he said as he nervously grabbed the straps of his backpack waiting for a response.

“Well considering I have homework but i'm pretending I don't then no i do not, why up for a late night adventure?” You looked up at him with a smirk. When you guys were younger you would sneak out of your rooms and go on adventures around the neighborhood until your parents would call you up and ask where you were.

“Actually kind of, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over later?” he shot you a small smile hoping that you would get the hint of him asking you out.

You thought about his words as they registered in his mind. If this was a dinner with his parents then your family members would have known as well. But he was asking you specifically which meant only one thing. “Oh uhm like a date, I mean yeah uhm sure.” you smiled back at him. I mean how bad could it be. Being in a small space with one of the cutest and nicest dudes you knew, yeah not a big deal at all.

Later that night as you went over to his house you did not suspect what was about to go down. This wasn't a basic date and I think that is why you remember it so well other than the fact that it was with Dylan. You guys spent the whole night cuddled on the couch watching hockey game reruns and just talking about life, and not one single moment did he make you feel uncomfortable.

Your first kiss.

Kisses are supposed to be magical. First kisses are usually awkward and yours was both. It was late one night and both of you sat on your porch after a date just looking at the stars and enjoying each other's company before you had to get back inside. Maybe it was a in the moment thing or the fact that you really really enjoyed your time together but next thing you know both of you were leaning into each other. Which of course for it being your first kiss something has to go bad. Somehow both of you made a wrong move or something and next thing you know Dylan’s bottom lip was bleeding.

“Oh my god Dylan I am so sorry.” You spoke up as you tried looking for a napkin or something.

“Honestly if my lip had to bleed everytime i kiss you I can handle it.” he looked up at you softly.

“Oh my gosh you are literally bleeding and you're using this time to make moves on me.” You laughed.

“Hey, it's working right?” he laughed as you hit him on the shoulder and waved him goodbye as he walked back home.

First I love you.

I love you. Honestly seems like everyone makes those words a really big deal. Some people saying don’t say it back if you don’t feel the same way, others saying try to refrain from it as long as possible. For you and Dylan it had been about ten months into the relationship. Him being away at one of his many hockey games. He was anxious. Honestly the most anxious you had ever seen him like this. Some scouts were going to be there and he had to make a good impression which of course you weren't worried about but he was. He had called you saying that your voice calmed him.

“What do you want to talk about?” you questioned.

“Literally anything other than this game.” He let out a breath he had been holding.

“Well I had a burger today from that place you like.” You randomly blurted out.

“Wait are you serious, how rude of you not to wait for me.”

“Don't come between me and my food.” Both of you continued on talking about each other's day until his coach came into the locker room.

“Ok Y/N I have to go wish me luck.” He sighed.

“Good luck Dyl you got this, I love you.” And before you could stop yourself from saying it those three words that seemed so powerful slipped out of your mouth first. I mean you didn't expect to say it first. Or even say it so soon. You knew it was true and had felt this way for a while but you didn't think you'd fall for him so soon.

“What what, dId you, can you repeat that.” Dylan spoke up as a huge smile grew on his face. Honestly he was planning on telling you tonight but it seemed as though you beat him.

“Ah fuck it, I love you Dylan Holloway now go kick some hockey player butt.” You smiled on the other side of the phone call.

“Holloway, get a move on.” His coach yelled.

“Ok babe I have to go, I love you.” After that night he brought back a win and both of you laid in bed together exchanging the three words back and forth with huge smiles on your faces.

First Anniversary.

Honestly if people had told you that one day you would be going out with the boy a few doors down you would’ve told them that they were crazy. But one year later you were still going strong. And doing the same thing you did for your first date except this time with chocolate. Lots of chocolate. It was sweet. Dylan having had practice earlier in the day and texting you many times throughout the day on how he thought it was crazy how someone like you could date someone like him. He came home tired and all you did was lay in each other's arms as you played with his hair and both of you slowly drifted off to sleep.

First time.

First times. Scary could be one word for them. Opening up to someone on a vulnerable and exposed level can be one way to see it. Another way to see it is giving yourself entirely to the person you love.

Draft day. A special day in many hockey players' lives. The day that will basically decide their future for them. It’s like the game life. Picking a career and a salary except for them is someone else doing it for them. So here Dylan was waiting and waiting as they called names and teams.

You were a few doors down following the live draft deciding that it was better if he got this special moment with his family and you guys could spend time together later.

As your boyfriend's name appeared on your screen you jumped up and down your room. Dylan having exchanged hugs and done the whole post draft interviews he came over. As he walked into your room you jumped into his arms.

“Dylan, I'm so proud of you.” you whispered in his ear.

“I love you.” He replied as he softly but needingly kissed you. As one thing led to another both of you were on top of each other exchanging messy kisses with the door closed. Hands all over each other as articles of clothing were scattered across the floor.

Waking up from the events of the past night brought a smile to your face as you laid in your boyfriend's arms with your legs intertwined.

~~~~

Dylan had come back home as soon as realization hit him. How could he have forgotten. You were sitting on the couch watching some random reality show that was playing.

“Hey Dyl, why are you back so soon?” you asked on why he was six hours earlier than he had said.

“Y/N baby fuck i messed up. Shit im so sorry.” he came over and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Dyl baby it’s ok, I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.” you smiled.

“Wait so I forget our three year anniversary and you're completely fine with it?” He asked.

“Remind me what we did for our first year anniversary.” You looked up your boyfriend.

“We sat in my room and watched hockey games.” He looked at you trying to see what you were getting at.

“And how long did that take?”

“I don’t know like three hours?” He questioned.

“So what's stopping us from doing it now, come here.” you said as you wrapped your hands around his taller figure. Both of you laid together for the rest of the day all your cares washing away.

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himaboroshi736 · 3 years

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IronDad fic recs

Here. I’m a french reader, but I’ve read A LOT (like...a lot) of IronDad, so, eventually, here my fic rec. (I tried to class it by categories, but well...) (it’s gonna be very long, guys)

Peter Parker has anxiety

Don’t let me get me, by hopeless_hope

He picks up his phone and sends a quick text. "hey, happy! i’m not feeling too hot today, so i think i’m gonna have to cancel. tell mr. stark i’m sorry!"

He stares at his phone, waiting for a response. It never comes, and Peter sighs sadly. There was a part of him, a small part, that really hoped he was wrong. His insides burn, and he curls up tighter into a ball and turns off his phone.

(No one’s going to try to contact him anyway.)

Anxiety has a way of convincing Peter that everyone hates him. Tony has a way of proving him wrong.

Midnight Oil, by @jolinarjackson

After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

Tony Stark has anxiety

do you even remember what the world looks like ?, by @iron--spider

Tony’s heart has been working on overdrive since this whole thing started. Friday has a countdown clock plastered on the heads up display, but it feels like hieroglyphics to him at this point, like some ancient language he could never master.

Because when Peter Parker is missing, things start losing their meaning real quick.

“Should be around here,” Rhodey says on the com. May is still on the other line, listening in, because once a certain amount of time goes by without word from Peter, things move into Extremely Worried Aunt territory. They’re already in Tony Is Panicking territory, and when both of those territories overlap it’s never a good time for anybody.

Time? What the hell is time? His mind is blanking numbers out entirely. Minutes are seconds are hours are years.

not like megatron, by @iron--spider

“Hi! This is Peter Parker, I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll call you back later! Hopefully not too much later, but don’t get your hopes up!”

Tony knows that message by heart. He’s heard it hundreds of times, in a greyer world, and it sends shivers down his spine as he climbs into the car.

He doesn’t think about that place. That half-world. No way, that’s done, that’s over, that’s history.

“Hey, kid, don’t you know it’s bad etiquette to go and disappear on your birthday? Not allowed, really, really bad vibes from the universe. What’s going on with your suit? I wasn’t watching. Nope. Just got an alert. What’s going on? Uh, call me back.” He clears his throat and hangs up like a moron, driving out into the street.

Hypothermia trope (i really like it so if you have any suggestions...)

i knock the ice from my bones, by hopeless_hope

Peter tries to move his legs through the water, dread filling him when they don’t move, and he just hangs there, doing anything and everything he can not to focus on the feeling of ice clinging to his bones. He feels sluggish, the world blurring around him, and he rests his head on the ice, not even registering the cold anymore.

He’s just so damn tired.

“PETER!” he hears someone yell, but it’s all muffled, and he lazily drags his eyes up to see a figure descending towards him.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thinks, This is not how my vacation was supposed to go.

While on what's supposed to be a relaxing vacation with the Starks, things for Peter quickly go south, and he finds himself on thin ice. Literally.

Ice Ice Baby, by @wolfypuppypiles

If Tony, Bucky or pretty much anybody that knew Peter had seen him that morning they would have smacked him upside the head. Helping people was great, everyone should give it a go, but when helping people puts you in danger it’s not so smart anymore.

AKA Peter can't get from Avenger tower to the subway without giving his winter clothes to homeless people and ends up with a severe case of hypothermia

Candle in the Window, by @madasthesea

Finals are over and Peter just wants to go home. The weather has other ideas.

Burn This Out, by @ephemeralstark

It's summer and Peter is free to be Spider-Man all day which is great, but it's summer and Peter is out as Spider-Man on the hottest day of the year which is not great.

Or, Peter gets heat stroke because he can't thermoregulate and things could not go worse for him.

(yeah, it’s not an hypothermia, but it’s linked to the fact that Peter can’t actually thermoregulate)

Post-Endgame (really like this trope too lmao)

the first birthday after, by iron_spider

(Endgame spoilers. But The Thing doesn't happen.)

The rain falls harder and Tony turns, his neck creaking and cracking, and he sees Peter asleep over by the window. He’s holding a small, flat box, and he’s slowly slipping to the right side of the easy chair he’s in.

Tony thinks about letting him sleep, but he finds himself speaking anyway. “Pete,” he says, his voice rough and raspy.

Peter immediately startles awake. “Happy Birthday,” he says, almost like he’d fallen asleep practicing it, planning to say it as soon as he woke up. He blinks at Tony, shivering a little bit, and then he smiles. “Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday.”

Tony snorts, smiling back. “Thanks, bud,” he says.

Second Best, by Rowan_M

Tony had adjusted to parenthood quickly when Morgan came along, and was always conscious of making sure Peter isn't left out ... Almost always. When Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan, Tony obsess over his daughter and takes his anger out on Peter, without even checking to see if he was okay. Steve finds Peter later that night in serious pain and in need of immediate medical attention.

Or, Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan and Tony basically ignores him.

when you’re feeling empty keep me in your memory, by JkWriter

after everything with thanos he forgets it's his birthday. he just assumed everyone else did too.

All For You, by @ironxprince

Three weeks after the snap that saved the world, Peter learns he was the reason behind it. He learns that Tony risked death, and now has to live with the ramifications, both physical and mental, all because of him.

This doesn't sit right with him.

you save everybody, but who saves you ?, by @iron--spider

Tony doesn’t sleep, because he can’t, because too many things are plaguing him, most of all where Peter is and what he’s doing. Tony has a good view of the hallway through the windows to his room, and he stares and stares until his eyes cross, until he hallucinates, until he knows he’s going insane.

He sees Peter sneaking into the med bay at about four in the morning.

The kid’s mask is off and he’s got two short, harsh slashes across his cheek, and he’s bleeding from a slice across his neck. His suit is ripped in a few places and he’s holding onto his middle, and Tony can see his hands are shaking.

It’s like something splinters in Tony’s already broken brain, like his world narrows and there are hazy edges, both weakness and strength entwining in his veins when he sees Peter struggle up onto one of the beds in the main atrium, starting to tend his wounds without calling anybody to help.

BAMF Peter Parker

Pizza, a Movie, and... an Attempted Kidnapping ?, by Pogokitten

“Tony. We’ll be fine,” Peter tells the man for what must be the tenth time in the last half hour.

Peter’s sitting on the couch of his and May’s apartment and building Legos with Morgan as they both watch their father’s methodical, yet anxious, pacing. He’s dressed to impress, as is Pepper who is watching the scene slightly exasperated.

“Are you sure? We can ditch the gala, kid. Just say the word,” Tony offers, halting in front of his kids.

Or: Tony and Pepper leave Peter in charge of Morgan while they go to their first gala since the third snap. Peter is expecting a calm night in with his adopted sister, but some thugs throw a wrench in his plans.

he’s good like that, by @iron--spider

“Get the hell outta here, boy,” the man says. “Or you’re gonna watch your boss die in front of you.” Then he grabs Tony by the shoulders hard, and shoves him down to his knees. The gun is louder now, like it’s filled with words that are eager to be shouted, and Tony winces when he feels the barrel press against the back of his neck. His knees weren’t ready to hit the ground that hard, and he tries to keep the pain from reaching his face.

He must fail, because Peter looks pissed.

“You’re not gonna shoot him, mister,” Peter says, somehow still trying to maintain a respectful tone, despite the clear anger written all over him.

stark robotics and technology conference, by @iron--spider

Peter leans against the wall while Tony chooses their floor, and the doors close. “Do you, uh, want me to do some interning stuff? Like go and get you coffee? Make sure the, uh—programs are all ready? Make sure the paintings are straight in the ballroom? Make sure the chairs are—”

Tony snorts. “Kid, I just thought you’d enjoy this. May told me about when it came through Queens but you two couldn’t make it because she was working and didn’t want you to go alone, and I thought, after all the shit you’ve been through lately, that you deserved something fun. No interning for you. That’s just an excuse.”

Peter remembers that. It was six months after Ben died, and he wasn’t gonna bother May too much about the conference. He didn’t know how much tickets cost anyways, or if kids his age could even go.

He really hung onto the idea of Iron Man after Ben died. Peter held him closer than ever.

Peter and Tony fighting

dinner and a jailbreak, by killerqueenwrites

“I’m not your kid!” Peter shouts.

“Don’t walk away from me, I’m not done–“

“You’re not my dad!”

Peter fitting in after the Blip isn't as easy as Tony hoped it would be. He wants his kid back, but they can't seem to stop fighting.

and then Peter goes missing.

my old man, by parkrstark

"I just want to help you. I want to help you understand what's wrong here and how to stop it. I used to be the same way until my father showed me how to be a man." He glanced back at Peter to sneer. "He's old enough to know better by now, but it's not your fault you didn't know how to teach him." "Teach him what?" Tony asked even though he didn't want to know the answer.

"Discipline, of course," Junior said with a wink.

Tony takes Peter on a weekend trip to try and change his mind about college and things go wrong. Then, they go even more wrong.

Between how it is and how it should be, by @frostysunflowers

''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''

Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering where you are?''

Soulmates trope

presumed dead, by killerqueenwrites

Tony gets his first soulmark when he’s fifteen, his second when he's thirty. He's forty-six when his third appears, and forty-eight when it fades to grey.

did you see the flares in the sky ?, by justt-ppeachy

‘hi’

One simple word was displayed proudly on the inside of his right wrist. Tony wasn’t sure when this word showed up or how long it had been there.

A line formed underneath the word and Tony could almost feel the pressure on his arm from the marker his soulmate was using to push one phrase from their skin into his.

‘i loev yu’

The letters were written slowly and messily as they showed up upon his wrist while he watched in disbelief. Not sure if he was hallucinating or just going insane, Tony rubbed at the writing, wondering if they would disappear once he looked again.

The words were barely recognizable, but they were still the best thing Tony had ever seen.

IronDad Fluff (yeah)

peter wearing tony’s hoodie, by killerqueenwrites

Tony’s used to his clothes going missing. His MIT hoodie doesn’t often leave his closet, though, which is why he notices its absence straight away. There’s a lifetime of safety and comfort in this old hoodie, for both of them, and that’s all Tony could ever wish to give Peter.

Career Day, by @superhusbands4ever

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Peter’s enhanced senses picked up the familiar voice from outside the door. “I had a meeting this morning and then I got lost looking for the class… anyway, I’m here for Peter? Peter Parker?”

He frowned at hearing his name, still unsure what exactly was going on. He watched as his teacher continued to stand and stare out the door for a minute before seemingly remembering herself and taking a step back.

“Of course! If you could just go sit next to him until your turn, he’s in the back on the right side.”

The man stepped through the door and Peter gaped with the rest of the class as Tony Stark, in his signature suit and goatee, sporting a pair of red sunglasses and carrying a suitcase walked through the door.

Kryptonite, by forensicleaf

The kid is acting weird.

Tony tries to figure it out.

father’s day, by @iron--spider

It’s Father’s Day, and Tony never really had a father. Not in the real sense of the word, not in the way that counts.

Peter Parker doesn’t have a father, either. Not anymore, anyway, not since he was little, and the amount of years that have passed since then outweigh the amount of time he got with Richard Parker.

Tony wouldn’t call himself Peter’s dad. He wouldn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t think of himself that way, no way, no way.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He pulls down on his cheeks, makes his eyes water. He runs his hands over the roughness of his jaw and sorta hates everything about himself right now, because he’s acting like a goddamn idiot. It’s Father’s Day and he’s not a father. He doesn’t know why the hell he’s pining for something that isn’t his, shouldn’t be his, can never be his. He isn’t a father, he isn’t Peter’s father, so there’s no reason on God’s green earth for Peter and him to do something for Father’s Day.

ain’t no valley low enough, by @iron--spider (yes, again, ‘cuz she’s the best)

Peter snorts. “You know I didn’t apply anywhere in Florida.”

“Please, kid, you know all you have to do is write a beautiful essay with my recommendation attached to it and you’re in. You’ve got the scores.”

Peter has a list. Of all the places he applied to, all the places he got into. A lot of it was encouraged by the adult role models in his life, some of it by Ned daydreaming about places like California and Colorado. Mostly, Peter just applied everywhere he could think of, because he’s known for a long time that Tony was gonna help May pay for it, and he didn’t wanna limit his options. Thinking about college has been strange for him, strange to the extent that he had a full blown panic attack about it in the middle of Avengers taco night last month. He can’t really understand it, doesn’t get why it feels like the end of the world—because he’s experienced the end of the world, and it’s not which campus has a bowling alley and which school has circus classes. But he nearly blacked out all the same, sobbed in Tony’s arms on the balcony until Tony proposed this. The road trip.

and when it’s hard, i’ll place your head into my hands, by hopeless_hope

“Tony,” Pepper sing-songs to get his attention. “Your mother hen is showing.”

“What?” he snaps indignantly. “I am not a mother hen. This is just... concern. Of the average kind. Perfectly normal.”

“Of course,” Pepper humors him, and he shoots her a dirty look as he types out a quick text to Peter.

It's been five days since Tony's heard from Peter, who's away at college, and Tony is not coping well. (Neither is Peter.)

Peter likes cuddles (and Tony too, but he always denies it... until he can’t)

my arms will hold you (keep you safe and warm), by parkrstark

“So, you’re telling me your body...is going through Oxytocin withdrawals?” Tony asked slowly.

“Cuddle withdrawals,” Peter corrected him. “Mr. Stark cuddles.”

TW : Rape/non-cons

make me strong, by parkrstark

It all started when Tony introduced Peter to Skip Westcott. He just didn't know until it was too late.

(There is a lot more, but I can’t find it rn ;-;)

5+1

5 times peter clung to tony, by parkrstark

... and the one time tony clung to him.

You are my Dad, you’re my dad, boogiewoogiewoogie, by Hittinmiss

“Peter? What’s going on kid?” Tony asked, him popping up on the phone’s screen.

“Hey da-” Peter started automatically before immediately noticing his mistake, the look on Ned’s face proved that yes, he almost called Tony Stark dad. He needed to try recover quickly because the look on Tony’s face seemed confused, especially with his slight pause. “-aaaaaamn Mr. Stark I really like your shirt. Where’d you get it?”

Smooth.

---

5 times Peter called Tony Dad and the 1 time Tony called himself Dad

5 Times Tony Took Care of Peter..., by As_Clear_As_Crystal

“Think if I coded a sign into your suit that says ‘Baby on Board,’ maybe criminals wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about murdering you?” Tony asks airily, poking at the bottom of Peter’s foot.

Peter halfheartedly kicks at Tony with his toe. (“That’s offensive, Mr. Stark.” )

- - -

aka: Five times Tony took care of Peter, and one time Peter took care of Tony.

5 times Peter is stuck with Tony, by @iron--spider

(...and one time he’s stuck alone.)

“I wonder if Pepper’s reported me missing yet,” Tony says, with an exaggerated sigh. “I wonder if this is some kind of scheme to kidnap me or something.”

“I think the ride’s just broken,” Peter says.

“Today of all goddamn days,” Tony says, exasperation clear in his voice and in his eyes. “Ruining our trip—”

“It’s not ruined,” Peter says. “Look, we’re hanging out."

“Real quality time,” Tony huffs. “Us, a few other trapped members of the general public, and a handful of animatronic pirates. Drunk pirates. Repeating themselves.”

5 times tony forgot peter was just a kid, by @parkrstark

...and the 1 time he didn't.

Or the one where it was hard for Tony to remember that the kid fighting next to him was still just a kid.

can i get a good night’s sleep ? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep ?, by peterstank

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is completely fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

or: five times peter doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

Five Times Peter and Tony Had Each Other’s Back, by Sahiya

... and One Time They Needed Help.

Peter is Tony’s Biological Child

I Had the Dream Again, by Skeeter_110

Peter calls Tony in the middle of the night crying.

Congratulations, it’s a Boy, by capiocapi

"Sir, I have the results.”

“Okay, Jarvis. Hit me.”

“It’s a match. 99.9% chance that he is your biological son, which is the percentage needed to be recognized by law as a biological parent.”

Tony’s stomach did a funny swooping dance. “Great. Congratulations to me then, eh? It’s a boy.”

You Are My Sunshine, by @iamconstantine

Tony Stark had always been a man of science and he always would be. It was his personal and fundamental belief that everything had an explanation. His eventual encounters with Norse gods, alien life, and sorcerers did kind of quake this a little bit, but still.

One thing that had always confounded him as the one thing that had no scientific explanation was fate. Murphy’s law, Finagle’s law, the butterfly effect, the domino effect, the snowball effect, and the wisest of all: “Shit happens.”

So how peculiar was it that one of the greatest things to ever happen to him began with a tray of champagne?

Serie i love you more than anything, by @iron--spider

The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31– from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos

May’s abusive boyfriend trope

A Peter Parker Problem, by @spagbol99

Peter Parker was back from the dead. At least that is what everybody told him. He'd been snapped out of existence until some sort of time travel and an active death wish by his mentor had saved him and the universe. Just your average sort of life for a 16 year old from Queens.

Peter comes back to find May has a husband and a kid. A new family he has to fit into. But he has done it before, he can do it again.

The only thing that feels solid is Tony: the Blip and fatherhood have mellowed him and Peter loves the bond they have now. He knows Tony would be there for him through anything. But Tony needs to focus on his own recovery - not small time Peter Parker problems. When things at home take a turn for the worse, Peter decides that he'll handle it himself. He is Spider-man. He's been to space and fought aliens. He can get through anything. After all, if May is happy, he is happy, right? Right?

(again, I’ve read a lot more but can’t find it...)

Peter Parker Whump (everyone’s favorite trope)

Danger Pizza, by alice_in_ink

The window was pushed open, and Iron Man’s head popped into his bedroom. “Here’s where I’m confused—why lock the front door but leave the fire-escape-accessible windows unlocked?” He clambered through said window. “Seems like a safety hazard.”

Peter eyed the metal suit as it straightened to a standing position. “Did you break into my window to kill me?”

The face plate lifted, and Tony’s eyes quickly looked over the teen. “Christ, kid. It looks like you’re halfway there.”

...

A wild night on patrol leaves Peter with a broken back, and boy, does he want to be able to move without dying. (So he calls Anthony Stark, obviously.)

If You Can’t Catch A Breath (You Can Take The Oxygen Straight Out Of My Own Chest), by @losingmymindtonight

"And I would hurry. Little Peter is about to be under quite a lot of pressure, and it might get a little hard to breathe.”

I’ve Got You, by @thedumbestavenger

Peter runs into a Copycat Vulture out on patrol, from there, everything escalates.

Meetings and Migraines, by AllThingsGeeky

Peter has another migraine at an unfortunate time and despite his best efforts he can’t ignore it forever.

The Most Important Thing In The World, by S0lstice

Peter’s door creaked and began to bend under the force of the crowbar and for the first time since regaining consciousness, fear began to press into him. Something very bad was happening and it was happening fast - too fast for his sluggish mind to keep up.

He went with his instincts instead, the first one always being, Help Mr. Stark.

Friendly Fire, by @jolinarjackson

Finding a careful truce with the government, the “rogue Avengers” are allowed to return to the Compound where they are put under house arrest. Peter coming to spend one week at the Compound during his summer break couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time as the opportunity to bond a little more with his mentor is overshadowed by a conflict he doesn’t quite understand. When he starts to develop a mysterious medical condition, however, the former team is forced to work together – not just to protect Peter’s identity from the DODC, but also to find the cause for his illness before it’s too late.

“He’s my kid,” Tony said, his voice hoarse. “He’s my kid and I failed him.” He covered his eyes and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. “All I ever do is fail him.” Natasha knelt down in front of him and cupped his face in her hands, waiting for him to meet her eyes before she said, “Right now, he doesn’t need you to fix this. He doesn’t need you down here. He needs you over there, in the medbay, by his side.” She thumbed tears from the corners of his eyes and ignored the ones running down her own face. “You haven’t failed him yet.”

alarm bells and panic levels, by @iron--spider

Tony lands heavy on the dock, the wood splintering hard under the metal suit. He’s having trouble breathing, his nose is bleeding, he most definitely has more than the recommended amount of broken ribs. But none of that fucking matters. The sky is clear, the assholes are down, but there’s one thing missing.

He looks over his shoulder when Rhodey lands too. His suit is dented in a few places but other than that he looks alright. His face mask flips up and Tony lets his mask retract.

“Where’s Peter?” Tony asks, his voice rough with the amount of yelling he’s been doing. Fuck these stupid assholes. They were supposed to go mini-golfing today. The kid had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Rhodey looks around, breathing hard through his mouth. “I thought you knew.”

there’s something wrong, by @iron--spider

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony whispers. “We should have checked you for something like this when we were resetting your arm and checking on the concussion. Goddamnit. We didn’t think.”

“He poisoned us both?” Peter asks, trying to open one eye to look at him.

“Yeah,” Tony says, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. “He’s dying. He got the brunt of it, a nice fucking cocktail of bullshit, including mercury and a bunch of other toxic shit—”

“Am I dying?” Peter whispers, voice breaking.

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces), by aloneintherain

Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

Collections/Series (’cause I could make an inventory of all @iron--spider stories, you know, but you have to read all of her work, if you haven’t yet) (God she doesn’t even know who I am)

iron dad bingo, by @iron--spider

stay at home, by @iron--spider

whumptober, by @iron--spider

Whumptober 2019, by @marvelous-writer

Day in the life of the Iron Family, by @marvelous-writer

The Tumblr Archives, by @losingmymindtonight

Everything comes back to you, by @losingmymindtonight

Nice work, kid, by @madasthesea

Irondad Bingo 2019, by sahiya

The Adventures of Spidy-son and Iron-dad, by eva7673

Tony adopts Peter (why everyone kills May, btw ?)

Accepting the Tides, by @emma--anacortes

Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May's death. It was normal that he'd grown to care a little about him, right?

Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.

So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter's life. Naturally he'd feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?

All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony's gonna give him hell.

Series Out of Darkness, by @starryknight09

“Is this Peter Parker?”

“Yes…”

“This is Dr. Nguyen. I’m sorry but your aunt’s been in an accident and we’re going to need you to come to Queens Memorial as soon as you can.”

Peter's life shatters with a phone call. The last person he expects helps him pick up the pieces.

#irondad #irondad spiderson #irondad fic #fic recs

211 notes · View notes

ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

I Would’ve Stayed (FNTO 4)

Any mess we had to deal with was way more worth it than any clarity without you.

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that!

Warnings: foul language, heavy drinking, lots of kissing, penetrative and oral sex (not too explicit; a condom is thrown in there somewhere but bbs please be safe! and also, I tried) (18+)

Word count: ~8,000

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist

A/N: Here it is! OC hates confrontation so guess what happens - that! Listen to Yours by Raiden x Chanyeol ft. LeeHi & Changmo and Moon, 12:04 AM by Offonoff.

It’s been 3 days and Jungkook still hasn’t reached out.

You would have, but somehow that time he completely ignored you for a whole week before he left still plays in your head and has made you quite traumatized, if you’re being honest.

Add to that, you recall how you both left things that day. You don’t know how he was doing in the 2 months he was away. Maybe he just got ahead of himself and realized he didn’t really feel that way about you, maybe he’s still angry. Maybe, and this scares you the most, he realized he’s better off and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore - too much crazy, you think.

None of the guys have reached out to you too since they’ve arrived aside from Jimin’s message, perhaps too sorry to even say anything.

You’ve followed the same routine you’ve had the past 2 months - cafe check-in before and after your actual job, weekends for exercise and chores and whatever work you can sneak in, and Saturday nights with your friends. You even volunteered to babysit your cousin’s kids for 2 weekends and accompanied Jaehyun to the orphanage for the bi-annual party he throws for the kids just to keep yourself preoccupied.

It feels so different without Jungkook. Even when he was away then, you were always video calling for at least a minute, and sending each other funny videos or memes to keep the connection, that string that neither of you wanted to break. How you both managed without each other these past months is surprising, but that's just made it clear to you, more than anything else, that you truly want him to be part of your life, and you, in his, in whatever way he’d have you.

But his radio silence is once again driving you insane. You keep typing then deleting whatever message you thought to send him.

You: Hey, I heard you’re back. How was the tour?

You: Hi, Kook. I’m so sorry again. I was wondering if we could catch up?

You: Omg help, my neighbor got another cat!

You: Can’t wait for the final concert! Excited to watch you guys.

But nope, you’d deleted them as fast as you’d typed them. You know you were at fault somehow; you’ve accepted that you could’ve done something like talk to him at the first sign of a problem, but you always hated confrontations and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that with him.

More than anything, though, you want him to be the one to reach out this time. Not just because he said those hurtful things to you before he left, but also because you want to know if he still feels whatever it was he said he feels - or felt - for you before he left.

You let your mind make up reasons. Maybe he’s still tired. Maybe he’s still catching up on sleep and isn’t in his right mind yet to talk to you. Maybe they got caught up with more work when they got back. All these maybes are sending you in a whirlwind of emotions again, and you’re trying so badly to get out of your head and just settle things once and for all.

It’s finally Friday and you’re zoning out at work before your phone’s incessant ringing breaks through your thoughts.

Jieun is on the other line, convincing you to go to The Third tonight because a DJ friend of hers is spinning. She misses you, she says. You don’t have the heart to tell her that you don’t feel like going out and being around people, but she pleads. The guys will be there too, she excitedly shares. She charmed her way into having them accept her invite after they’d met up at a dinner party earlier in the week.

“Dinner party?” You ask.

“Yeah, remember Yoonah? I wrote some music for her. She had a birthday party last Tuesday,” Jieun innocently says.

Of course you remember. She’s one of the pop stars that Jungkook has been linked with countless times. He never dismisses it though when you’d ask. He just always says they’re close and enjoy spending time together when they can.

You feel your heart break a little, thinking of what his appearance at her birthday party could mean. You’d done yourself a favor and stayed away from social media so you don’t know if there are new pictures of them circulating in the web.

But you do like to torture yourself. As Jieun went on about her schedule for the rest of her stay, you checked online for any photos of the two to ease - or worsen - your panicking brain and speeding heart.

Yep, there they are. Some public photos of them laughing at the party, Yoonah so stunning in her red dress and Jungkook looking incredibly gorgeous in his dark blue suit. You scroll further down to look at the same photos and people screaming at how good they look together and wait, are those photos outside of a cafe?

Eyes wide, your heart quickens even more as you type “Jungkook Yoonah cafe” on the search bar because really, you’d been torturing yourself these past months too, why stop now?

They seem like unofficial photos, judging from the quality, but you can’t be mistaken that it’s him - you know that sweatshirt because it’s yours; the few clear photos show the clay mark on the left side of the clothing that you haven’t been able to remove. What kind of jerk wears another girl’s clothes when he’s out on a date with another?

You’re fuming. So much for making excuses on his behalf that he’s tired or busy. Well, he was busy, alright. You saw in the news that Yoonah was in the U.S. too for some photo shoots; some tweets were saying she was at one of the shows. Guess Jungkook was preoccupied in those 2 months too, you think to yourself.

“Y/N, you in there?” Jieun asks on the other end.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. What were you saying?”

“I said a lot… but I just wanted to know if you’re game for tonight?” She asks, excitement laced in her voice. It has been awhile since you’ve gone out to party with her anyway.

“Sure, I’ll be there.” You force the excitement out of you.

“Great! Tell your friends. Can’t wait to see you!” She hangs up, and you’re still fuming.

Fuck to feeling sorry for yourself. Fuck to being a responsible adult. And fuck to saying no to hook-ups. You were never one for drinking her problems away and finding a temporary fix in another’s body and the pleasure they could give but that’s exactly what you’re gonna do tonight.

Jungkook has made you do and feel things you’d never done or felt before anyway, and you aren’t gonna stop now.

You wait until 6PM before heading home and fixing up. You and your friends go to a nice restaurant for dinner, a change of scenery from your usual Saturday night take outs, before finally heading to The Third for a night you hopefully won’t regret.

You and your friends arrive at the bar at 10PM, Jaehyun the designated caretaker of everybody (more like of you, though, since you’re the only one with a plan).

You do the mandatory socializing, especially with Jiuen, and before you know it, you’re on your 5th shot of tequila, sips of other people’s beer or cocktail in between, and suddenly, a hand is pulling at yours and an unfamiliar voice is asking you to dance.

He’s funny and has well-manicured and soft hands. You can’t tell the color of his eyes or the shape of his nose or if he has plump or thin or chapped lips. He seems to have nice hair, though.

He says he’s a little awkward but he was beside you at the bar and heard you laughing and thought it was the nicest sounding laugh he’s ever heard. He apologizes for sounding sappy and a creep, but he thought he could at least ask you to dance, confident in at least that since he used to dance in college.

He asks if he could put his hand on your waist and you consent. There were no red flags, and you’d seen your friends give you a thumbs up to indicate they’re looking out for you in case something unsuspecting happens.

Something unsuspecting happens, alright. One minute the man’s hand is on your waist, fingers gripping you a little tighter as the song transitions to the next one, and another it’s gone. You turn around to make sure he’s still there but lo and behold, there stands the man you’ve been trying to get your mind off, hand on the other man’s wrist, and a glare that could cut through stone.

“I’ve got her,” the man says, voice cold and stern, it gave you chills.

It takes a while before it registers. Hair parted at the middle, black polo, black leather jacket. Even under these party lights he still looks breathtaking. You scowl at Jungkook.

“What the fuck, Jeon. I was dancing with Ye-jun!”

“It’s, uh, Yu-jun,” you hear the man say. Was he now stuttering?

“You’re drunk,” Jungkook responds, tone steady, head now turned to you.

“So? I’ve been drunk many times before. It’s nothing new,” you snap back.

“Yes, but you don’t do this,” he says, voice calm and patient.

“And what’s this? Enjoy myself? Find a man to dance with, to go home with? Maybe to hook up with?” You bite back, arms crossed, a little less drunk now that you feel anger consume you. You don’t see the surprised but intrigued look of the man staring at you, but Jungkook does and it takes all of him not to smack the guy’s face right then and there.

But really, how dare he? He ghosts you again and now he decides to show up and crash your little dance party?

Jungkook lets out a low grunt. He turns to the man, jaw clenched, eyes piercing. “Seriously, I’ve got this. You can leave us now.” He continues to stare at the man who knows he’s got nothing on Jungkook.

“Well fuck me,” the man says and walks away.

Jungkook grabs your wrist to take you to the bar, forcing you to drink 2 glasses of water.

“What the hell was that?” You shout. Jungkook eyes the bartender, as if to tell him to give both of you as much privacy as he can in a venue like this.

“You’re drunk and the guy was trying it with you,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“He actually had the decency to ask if he could put his hand on my waist, seeing that I was drunk!” You shout back.

He rests his right arm on the bar and looks at you blankly. “You’re still drunk and he’s still a stranger.”

At this, you completely lose it. “And you aren’t? What are you now, my friend? My fuck buddy I don’t fuck? My almost lover? The guy I can never have? The guy who’s too afraid to have me?”

You eye the bartender nearby preparing 2 shots of tequila. You walk the short distance towards him and down both shots, one after the other. “Make him pay for them,” you shout to the man, pointing to Jungkook, and you walk away.

Seven shots of tequila in and you’re quite the mess, physically and emotionally. Why you think it felt cathartic to down those shots is beyond you; now your head is spinning and your feet feel like death.

You see the light at the end of the tunnel, an empty chair a few steps away. You make it, thankfully, without much fanfare. You look around for your friends but it’s all dancing silhouettes and unfamiliar faces. The lights are now blinding and suddenly it feels stuffy that it’s hard to breathe. You drag your arms to the table and drop your head onto them, slowly succumbing to sleep.

A voice wakes you, repeating your name countless times until you start to resent it. You lazily look up to find Jungkook, crouching down to level with you, holding a plate of chocolate cake and a pitcher of water.

You look at what he’s holding before your glossy eyes rest at his face. He sighs, puts the pitcher on the table, and proceeds to take the fork and feed you with bites of the cake.

You drink water in between, and after 3 mouthfuls, you look up at him and flash your teeth, as if to ask if there’s some chocolate leftovers on them. He lets out a short laugh and removes a crumb hanging on the corner of your lips. “All good,” he says.

“Take me home, Jungkook.” You plead. “Please take me home.”

Jungkook doesn’t know why he suddenly got scared. He’d made up his mind that he would message you when they’d landed, drive to your place to see you, and talk things out the next day, but his mind had other plans.

He got so caught up at the thought that he’s finally home, finally breathing the same air as you, that you were just 30 minutes away from him - so near yet so far - that he’d zoned out and completely forgotten to message you. He was so anxious about finally talking to you that he’d ended up falling asleep at 5AM and slept through the rest of Monday afternoon.

They had a scheduled meeting on Tuesday and had Yoonah’s dinner party that night, and he had wanted to message and see you on the same day because he was that impatient.

The dinner party wasn’t a big event, but photos from her agencies were soon released that obviously included Jungkook and Yoonah laughing and talking. He knew what was about to happen next. What he didn’t expect was Yoonah’s pleas that night to go out the next day for their routine stunt that they’d do every once in a while.

Jungkook and Yoonah went to the same middle school and high school in Seoul, both trying to balance education with their responsibilities in their respective idol groups. They ended up being close and confiding in each other, but never went the dating route. They were both so young then and happiness, at that time, equated to success in their field. It’s later on that they’d come to realize how lonely that would feel.

Jungkook had his hyungs and felt content; Yoonah, who eventually went solo, felt the loneliness eat her up. She’d been dating a friend from her childhood and she knew the only way they could stay together is if their relationship was kept a secret.

She’d enlisted the help of Jungkook who’d willingly agreed to be her decoy when needed - anytime the media or even fans would catch wind of Yoonah’s relationship, it was automatic for the pair to be seen going out. They never admitted nor denied the rumors. It was enough to throw the scent off the real man she was dating.

He agreed that Wednesday for a quick lunch out at a cafe. No need for overkill, they agreed. As long as they’re seen together, that should be enough. Jungkook didn’t have the heart to turn her down and instead, kept mum about his own relationship trials with you. He knew that whatever photos that fans would take would be all over social media, and he could only hope you stayed away from it long enough until the issue died down.

This was another dent in his plan and he had to regroup. Another day has passed and he still hasn’t reached out to you. He was beginning to think it was a stupid idea to wait it out in the first place.

He entered the bar that Friday night, half sure that he was going to see you. Jieun has been away a while and would definitely want you there.

It didn’t take long for him to spot you. He was half expecting you’d be dancing with your friends or laughing about in one of the tables.

He didn’t expect you to be dancing so closely to another man, his hand on your waist, his mouth so dangerously close to your ears. You looked like you were having fun, what with your half-lidded eyes and teeth constantly biting on your bottom lip. He’d never seen that look on you before, and it scared the shit out of him.

He saw your friends who confirmed the man is someone you’d just met and that you’d gone on about getting shit-faced drunk and hooking up with someone because “Jungkook’s being a jerk right now.”

“Please grow up, you two, and talk things out,” Chaewon shouted at him, tired and exasperated in dealing with your whiny ass, before she stormed off to shout at her boyfriend. Jaehyun went on about their lover’s quarrel, and Hyejin had discovered the allure and deceit of cranberry vodka and had been puking her guts out in the washroom.

“Please look out for her,” Jaehyun told Jungkook. What your friends didn’t tell him is why you’re acting this way. Was it the radio silence? The photos you might’ve seen? Or both?

That’s when Jungkook proceeded to shoo the man away. Of course you wouldn’t go without a fight. From the dance floor to the bar, you had a go at it. He deserved all that, he was sure, even if he was angry at the situation as well.

It took another pep talk from his hyungs - who were watching you from afar, as you laid your head on the table, and making sure no one would try with you again - convincing him to swallow his pride and just talk to you.

He hated seeing you like this, moreso since it’s the first time in 2 months he’s seeing you, and considering how things have been during the time you two were apart.

The sweets and water combo always works. Two washroom trips later, you were on the passenger seat of his car, fetus-laden and drifting in and out of sleep.

Jungkook is frustrated. How bad had things gotten that you were willing to hook up with some stranger at the bar? What were you thinking? Why didn’t you reach out this time? He was just making excuses again but regardless, he looks at you, a snort escaping your mouth as you catch yourself snoring, and thinks you’re still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

You wake up underneath two thick blankets and a mountain of pillows surrounding you.

Clawing out of your fort-like surrounding, you see a glass of water and aspirin on your bedside table. You sigh and try to recall the night before.

You were lucid at some parts. You recall the guy with the soft hands, both of you dancing so close together, his whispers of sweet nothings on your ear. You remember a bit about your little outburst at Jungkook at the bar, the chocolate cake, vomiting your insides in the toilet, and climbing to your bed.

You force your eyes shut, trying to remember more. Your throat hurts, the kind that isn’t just from alcohol. You feel the crusty bits on your eyes, at both corners and on the sides.

You cried. You were probably shouting too. What the fuck were you going on about last night?

And then it hits you. Jungkook was there. He totally cockblocked you. But he also fed you cake and probably took you home. Now you remember a bit of his calloused hands drawing circles on your back as you tried to puke all the alcohol out of your system. He probably helped you brush your teeth too, you conclude, seeing as your mouth doesn’t feel extra disgusting this morning.

“What else, what else?” You think aloud. But your mind draws out blank. Knowing yourself though, and the anger and hurt that built up inside you before you stepped foot in that bar, was enough to let you know that you probably gave him shit, for what, you’re not sure.

You decide it’s time to get the gunk off your body so you get off the bed, pop the aspirin, and head out your room.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee is what welcomes you as you open the door.

You stand by the kitchen, looking for signs of the other person with you until you see the blanket on your couch and a familiar-looking black leather jacket lying at its back.

The bathroom door opens, revealing a freshly washed Jungkook, clad in a white shirt and boxers, clothes of his that you know he got from the second drawer on your dresser.

He pauses on his steps and stares at you. “You’re awake,” he says.

“And you’re here,” you reply, a bit of irritation laced in your voice.

You both stare at each other for a couple more seconds, not sure how to proceed. This is new territory for you.

Your mornings were never like this. They were always full of lazy greetings, games of rock-paper-scissors on who would get up first to brew coffee, soft singing in the kitchen, laughter.

“You uh, got drunk,” he starts, hand scratching the back of his neck, which he usually does when he’s nervous or shy.

“You uh, cockblocked me last night,” you deadpanned.

Jungkook stays put where he is, face faltering a little bit. “Were you really planning on hooking up with that guy?” He asks.

“I don’t know, maybe,” you say. You were so close, though, even if you knew you wouldn’t. Part of you is thankful that Jungkook made sure that didn’t happen but no, you can’t fall for this so easily.

He continues to look at you, eyes blinking constantly, teeth biting onto his lower lip, you’re afraid it’d start to bleed. Why is he so nervous?

“For goodness’ sake, Jungkook! I wanted to hook up with him, or anyone for that matter, because I’m fucking pissed at you! And if you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been doing things I don’t normally do because you’re messing me up!” You shout at him.

You’re closer to him now, and you can clearly see the flushed look on his face. He can’t focus on you, he’s biting his lip even harder and looking down on his feet. In the silence, you both try to find your own words to express the emotions that have been eating you up inside.

“I’m…” you start gesticulating, trying to find more words to express all the anger and pain and frustration you’re feeling.

And then your stomach grumbles, really loud, and it’s the mood killer you didn’t need.

“I’m fucking hungry,” you whimper, head falling on your hands as you make that sound of a cry that borders on a laugh. You look and sound utterly ridiculous right now. You’re losing your resolve, and you’re slowly cracking in front of the man you’re angry at.

Jungkook suppresses a small laugh. “I hate you,” you say, your tone not matching your words.

“You said that last night too,” he says, looking up at you.

“I probably meant it. I still do,” you respond, meeting his eyes.

“I know. But I said last night we’ll talk about it today. That shut you up.”

You laugh to yourself, imagining how you probably looked, drunkenly shouting at him last night. You tell yourself you’ve got to face this now, no more excuses.

“Good, because we’ve got months’ worth of shit to talk about,” you say, as you head for the bathroom.

“Bacon or sausage?” He calls out before you close the door. “Bacon!” You respond immediately.

Jungkook puts his utensils down and stops eating.

“I’m not gonna lie, Y/N, you’re scaring the shit out of me.”

You continue to glare at him, as if to say that making you breakfast doesn’t mean he’s off the hook.

“Seriously, your nose is flaring, you’re looking at me like you want to rip me into pieces…” he peers at your hands, knuckles white at how hard you’re gripping the fork and knife. “You look like you want to stab me for real this time…” he trails.

You grit your teeth and scowl at him. If looks could kill he’d be dead by now. He responds with a smile, the kind one would have if they want to get out of something.

“You’re not funny,” you deadpan.

“I wasn’t trying to be!”

You cross your arms, anger still painting your face.

“Okay, Y/N, let’s calm down and talk this out like mature individuals,” he continues, arms up as if he’s trying to tame an animal. This pisses you off even more.

You feel tears form in the corner of your eyes out of anger. “Yes, because ghosting me the second time around is soooo mature,” you shout.

You drop what you’re holding, push your chair backwards, and turn away to walk the very short distance to the living room. You let out a loud groan.

He runs to you, now even more worried than before. He stops in his tracks when he sees your shoulders start to shake. He’s really outdone himself this time, he thinks. What a way to try and “fix” things, he scolds himself.

“I’m sorry, I’m doing this all wrong.”

“You think?!” You shout, now facing him, tears already trailing down your cheeks. The look on his face, that of sadness, guilt, of regret, pierces through you like a knife, the same way the look of pain and dejection on yours cuts through him, rendering him speechless. He’d never seen you this hurt, this angry, this tired.

“You ignored me for a whole week. I went to your house to see you but you just…” you exhale. You couldn’t even say the words because just thinking about that day hurts you so much, something you realized you hadn’t really gotten over. The realization and the guilt you felt were enough to ease that pain but the recent radio silence from him only served to resurface those feelings.

“And you come back and what, nothing again from you?”

Jungkook stares at you, trying to name the emotions written on your face. There’s too much of everything he sees and it causes anger to course through him at what he��s done and what this could mean. So he does what he usually does when he’s hurt and scared - he deflects.

“Why didn’t you call?” He starts, earning him a scoff from you. “I confessed my feelings that day but you didn’t say anything; you just got angry that I was leaving and when I was away, all I got was a text for an apology,” he continues, jaw tight at how he’s trying not to cry.

You stare at him, wide-eyed. You did greet him on his birthday, but you opted to let him speak.

“I come home after 2 months and I don’t hear from you and I see you at a bar dancing with some guy. What was I supposed to do?” He grits his teeth. He knows he’ll break, he’s just trying to hold out as long as he can.

“You call that confessing? You barely gave me anything that day, Jungkook! We always talked about things but you drop that bomb on me from out of nowhere!” You stomp towards him, motioning him to look at you.

“We had such a good time before that. That trip, that morning… and then you ignore me a whole week and then you leave.”

“I…” Jungkook stammers. He always knew he handled that whole situation terribly. He didn’t give you time, he didn’t give you an option.

“I torture myself by replaying that weekend because I can’t help but think that might be the last time I’ll ever get to have you like that,” you mewl.

This is when he breaks, he thinks.

He takes in a long breath.

“I woke up before you that morning and you just looked… so beautiful, so peaceful, and I just wanted to get used to that, you know?” He sighs, forlorn eyes focused on the floor as if he’s watching the scene he’s committed to his mind play out before him.

“I didn’t think much of it before, just that I wanted to be with you all the time and when I was, I wanted to stay a bit longer, or the night. And when I did I just wanted to sleep next to you and have you close to me until the next morning… and the morning after that. And I just wanted so badly for you to feel the same way.” He covers his face with his hands.

“But you… you thanked me for being a great friend and I guess hearing it like that, confirming that I’m just that to you, broke my heart because right then I thought…” he looks straight at you with his glossy doe eyes and suddenly you forget how to breathe. “I thought that I wanted so much more.”

You blink at him once, twice, a couple more times. He’d only implied he had felt something but this… this isn’t what you were expecting.

“I avoided you because I didn’t know how to talk to you without feeling sad and angry,” he explains.

“You still could’ve said something! You were the one who was being selfish and unfair, not me. You kept that all to yourself and didn’t give me a chance to tell you how I felt.”

He lets out a small laugh, sounding resigned. “You made it clear that day of what I was to you. I mean, with the amount of time we spend together, with how close we are? For fuck’s sake, Y/N, we kiss and sleep next to each other and even after all that, I’m just a friend? What more did we - did I - have to do for it to be more?”

“You could’ve told me, Jungkook. You could’ve told me because I would’ve told you that I felt the same way.”

He looks at you, a pained expression on his face.

“Then why say that, huh?” he turns away from you, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He should be happy but somehow he’s upset - at himself or you, he’s unsure. “Why do all of those and keep me at a distance like that?”

“Because I didn’t want to feel that way for you! I couldn’t.”

“Why not?

“Because I was scared.”

“Bullshit.”

“I know it’s a crap excuse for anything but it’s how I felt. Because I knew, long ago, that you’re the one who wouldn’t want anything more. All those PR stunts? The women you’d casually dated? I got your memo, Jungkook. Any feeling or thought I had of us being anything more disintegrated the moment you said that you had too much crazy going on to even deal with relationships… and I let it.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“This is really how you want to play this, Jungkook? Why didn’t I do this? Why didn’t I say that? I always do, okay? I call, I ask you over, I kiss you, I ask you to stay. And you always do exactly those, just those. Nothing more, never anything more. What would saying it do?”

Jungkook looks defeated. He understands you, more than you think he does.

That night when he’d gone to your apartment after your ex showed up - when he’d ditched drinks with the guys to help Seokjin take his mind off the girl he’d lost because he gave what he only could and it wasn’t enough until someone else could give more - seems to be as vivid to you as it was for him.

Going to you was reflex for him, especially after he’d heard your sniffles over the phone. Seeing you cry pained him even more. He’d cursed Jinyoung internally multiple times; how someone could be scared of someone as beautiful as you was beyond him.

That night felt like he saw you for the first time - your strength, your passion for life, your desire to be a better version of yourself. He’d enjoyed your musings about the innate goodness of people and the human’s incredible ability to love, hurt, heal, and love again. Even your thoughts on fate and destiny that were contrary to his had caused him to question more, think deeper, live more ardently.

Beneath those puffy eyes and shivering body, there was no sign of insecurity. You were just so sure of yourself, so free, so unapologetic, and he wanted to bask in your radiance, in your glow; he wanted front-row seats to the unravelling of you.

And he didn’t feel like he could be enough. Between his responsibilities, his restrictions, his commitments because of his own dreams and the life that he chose, he just knew that he would always fall short and he would lose you. And that frightened him more than anything.

So Jungkook did what he always does when he’s hurt and scared - he deflected. He said there was too much going on in his life - that’s why he can’t try, why he can’t commit, why he can’t want more, because he can’t be more, at least not what he wants to be for you.

He never finished that sentence though, felt like it would be final if he said the words. Looks like you convinced yourself of these thoughts of his for you, he concludes. And he sees it now. He was just as scared as you. Probably still are.

“I would’ve stayed, you know?” You break him out of the internal monologue he’d immersed himself in.

“I walk away when things don’t work out but I realized that I would have stayed. Whether it was I who felt differently and you didn't, or you did and I didn't… I would’ve stuck around.” You look at him, eyes now devoid of all the anger you were feeling not long ago.

“I was angry and sad because of you but you were the one I wanted to call about it,” you continue. “God, it felt stupid but that’s when I realized it, you know? I wanted to be with you. Any mess we had to deal with was way more worth it than any clarity without you.”

It’s all Jungkook needs to hear.

He marches over to you, two strides are what it takes until he’s palming your cheeks and softly resting his lips onto yours, waiting, wanting, for you to meet him halfway.

And you do.

You push yours onto his, tasting those saccharine chapped lips, causing your body to relax at how right this feels. The kiss is gentle, similar to the ones you’ve shared before, but different in what this means, different in what it is trying to say.

He pulls back and you feel hazy, like you’d just been woken up from a dream right when you were about to get to the good part.

He looks at you so tenderly, like if his eyes could sigh a relief they would. He’s thumbing your cheeks repeatedly, searching your misty eyes as if there are still questions he needs answered.

“Why did you want to kiss me? That first time. Why?” His tone is rushed, desperate.

“Because I wanted to know if I still felt it, whatever it was I felt before, I wanted to know if I still felt it.”

“And did you feel it then, and every time we did it?”

You close your eyes, causing the tears that have now accumulated to fall from your eyes. “Yes, Jungkook. Always.”

He thumbs the tears away as they fall down one by one. He looks at you as internally, he’s gathering the feelings of the past months - the anger, desolation, the regret - readying himself to let it all go, he just needs to hear you say it, whatever it is. He needs to know that you felt everything he felt.

“What did you feel just now?”

“Like I want more, Jungkook. I want more,” and you open your eyes to meet his satisfied ones, both of your breaths hitching at how you’re feeling a flurry of emotions that you can’t tame.

Jungkook pulls your face towards his once again, meeting your tear-stained lips; this time he presses harder, slightly parting his mouth and you angle your face for better access. You feel like that moment when two puzzle pieces finally fit together, when they finally find their way, like two lost souls following the north star to find each other.

He continues his motions, coaxing you to go harder just as he is, and you do. He licks onto your bottom lip, seeking entrance, and with your parted mouth, you revel in the way both of yours meld onto each other so perfectly, so fluidly like they’re meant to do this, like your lips are meant to fuse together like this. And it sets you on fire.

Your hands, which were only lightly touching his bent elbows as his palms continue to stroke your face, are now gliding on his arms, feeling the veins and ridges that dent his limbs. They proceed to graze over his hands, sending shivers down your spine as you imagine all the things those hands could do to you. You do this repeatedly, sensually, making Jungkook hungrier, needier.

You’re so lost in the feeling of him this close to you, like one of your drives where the windows are down and the wind is blowing and you feel unanchored, flowing, light, like you any time you can fly away.

His hands trail south, caressing your sides until they find purchase on your waist, grip tightening as his mouth continues its attack on yours, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. This time he wins, as a slight tip of his head gives him an advantage and he’s going deeper. You moan onto his mouth, hands pulling on his hair by the nape of his neck, as they have now found refuge there.

Push and pull you both go, from twirling your tongues and taking turns nibbling on each other’s lips. Your right hand slides down from his neck to his chest, and as you thumb his hard nipple that you feel through his shirt, he bucks his hip and you feel the dent on his crotch that causes adrenaline to surge through you.

You clutch on his shirt, eager to get it off. You’re desperate as you feel heat rise to your chest, as if it’s about to explode. Your senses are overloaded right now, making you lightheaded, intoxicated, a dampness in your core accumulating as your hips meet his, seeking friction to quench the intense thirst of your body to feel his own.

You pull away this time, feeling like your head will explode from the sensory overload - the strong and fresh scent of the white musk body wash, the sweet taste of coffee on his mouth, the erotic sounds of your heavy breathing and moans, the tingling feeling of his fingertips on your arms, and the sight of him on top of you.

Eyes wide filled with worry that he might’ve done something wrong, Jungkook asks, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” you let out a few continuous breaths, “I couldn’t breathe,” you continue, a short laugh escaping your lips.

He chuckles. “I’m sorry, I got carried away.” He chews on his bottom lip. “I just didn’t think I’d hear you say that.”

“That I want you?”

He nods shyly, suddenly very different from the man who’d just tried to swallow you whole.

“I do, Jungkook. What about you?”

Now it’s your turn to have a worried look in your eyes, nervous about what will happen next.

“I want everything with you, Y/N. I want this,” he pulls you back to him and rests his forehead on yours, “I want all of this.”

You close your eyes as he does, tips of your noses touching, breaths hot on each other’s skin. A smile forms on your lips as he kisses your cheek, left and right, then your jaw, and then your neck. He takes his time there, teeth nibbling on the flesh, tongue soothing the sting.

He licks a strip up until his tongue lands on a sensitive area below your ear. He grazes his teeth on your skin and your senses come alive again. “Mhmm, Jungkook,” you moan.

He smiles onto the spot, his breath causing that dampness on your core to pool once again. “You like that, babe?”

You laugh at the pet name, choosing instead to hide the overwhelming desire you feel to hear his low and raspy voice call you that everyday.

“I hate you,” you tell him, head leaning on his shoulder. This one has no bite, though. And he knows this, but he plays along.

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

The intoxicating feeling comes back, this time from just the mere insinuation of what he’ll do to you.

You nod and take his hand to lead him to your room. He follows, head in a daze because he didn’t think he could ever be with you like this. All the times you’d both walked to your room, you were drunk or tired or sleepy; you’d carefully lie on your sides of the bed, talk and laugh until you fall asleep. Just the thought of how different it’s going to be this time is making him feel dizzy.

He watches you walk towards your bed and as you stand there, turning to him, with the rays of the sun finding their way through your blinds and casting a heavenly glow on your silhouette, he thanks all the gods and the cosmos for planning this one out for him.

You look at him tenderly and his heart, which has been beating so rapidly since you’d woken up, steadies its beats. He feels the entire weight of the world, which he’d placed on his shoulders on his own, dissipate slowly.

He lives for moments on the stage when, in front of thousands of people cheering his name, he feels alive, like he’s got the whole world on the palm of his hands, like everything he’s ever wanted is possible. It’s just you and him in this apartment, in this room, and he feels the same and something else - he feels enough, he feels more.

He kisses you slower this time, lips aching to savor every inch of your face, of your neck, as he slowly caresses your arms, your sides, taking his time there too.

He pulls you by the waist, hands resting on the base of your spine and he rests his head on the crook of your neck.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry for everything.”

You both stay there for a while, your arms around his neck and your warmth steadying Jungkook’s breathing that once again picked up when he’d realized he really could have completely lost you.

“You haven’t lost me,” you say, as if his beating heart had whispered to you his ultimate fear. He hugs you tighter and buries his head on your neck even deeper.

“I’m still scared though,” you confess, fingers brushing through the loose strands of his hair.

“I know, so am I,” he responds, finally coming out of hiding and facing you. “And it’s okay. But we have to promise to tell each other when it gets too much, yeah? We have to tell each other what bothers us, what worries us.”

“I don’t like confrontations,” you say.

“They won’t be. They’ll be discussions. We can’t let this happen again, okay?”

“Okay.”

He tips your chin up so he’s looking into your eyes again. “Now I think I said I was going to make it up to you,” the smug look on his face making its return. You missed this. And also, you’re in trouble.

He kisses you again, and again, and again. He ghosts his fingertips underneath your shirt and then he’s tracing patterns, constellations on your torso.

The clothes come off soon enough, until you’re both bare, uncovered, vulnerable in front of each other. He traces patterns again, this time with his lips, down to your shoulders, and then to your chest.

His mouth feels immaculate on your breasts, wet muscle hungrily laving over your pert nipples. His hands find refuge on your mound, ghosting the lips until the wetness sucks his fingers in. He draws circles over your clit, eliciting the most beautiful sounds from you. This rivals the screams of the fans for them, he thinks, but this one, he could have this everyday, definitely.

Everything happens the way both of you imagined, and you both commit to memory this moment - the satisfaction on his face when you buck your hips into his mouth, your dripping core coating his face with your wetness; the feeling of his soft but calloused hands claiming every inch of your body; his half-lidded eyes and his clenched jaw as he enters you, pushes into you, drags in and out of you; your cries of more, don’t stop, and I’m close, ringing in his head and prompting him to go harder, faster; and his moans as he finishes and your heavy breathing as you ride out both of your highs, heads still in the clouds, hands intertwined to keep you grounded, to remind you that this is real, that this isn’t the last time, that this is more.

You wake up to the sound of a phone’s incessant ringing, tempting you to throw the piece of device off the wall just so you could bask in this moment just a little longer. You try to reach for it, causing the morning sun that passes through the uncovered corner of your window to blind you slightly.

Jungkook groans next to you, head buried on the hair at the back of your head, his hand resting on your waist. You smile and let your fingers trace the ink that thoughtfully decorates his, settling them in the empty spaces in between. He deepens his head where it’s found sanctuary, hands now intertwined with yours, and pulls you closer. He greets you with kisses on your bare shoulder, soft moans escaping you as his hand now releases yours to roam the body he’d spend the whole day yesterday exploring.

“Mhmm, baby,” he moans to your ear, feeling the ecstasy of your hand soothing the ache he feels on his length. It’s all you need to turn to him, meet his lips, close the distance of your hips to his until he’s inserting himself into you again. Your bodies easily find a rhythm, your labored breaths harmonizing well.

It’s a softer one this morning, unlike yesterday (morning, afternoon, evening, pretty much). It’s lazy, tender; bodies just falling into each other, melding, fitting together, finding each other.

He cleans you up, like he did all times yesterday, and he lets you snuggle to him this time. He plants a kiss on your forehead, eyes dreamily tracing your features. He still can’t believe he’s here.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

“And you’re so good to me, Kook.”

You hum as he kisses you once more, a satisfied smile displaying on your lips. He likes this very much.

His phone beeps again, and again. He lets his head fall back on the pillow out of frustration.

“They’re calling for you,” you point out, a smile still gracing your lips. You’re used to this already.

“I know,” he resigns.

You rest your head on your chest and wrap your arm around him tighter. “Stay a little longer, please,” you plead.

He returns the favor and hugs you back, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Your turn to make breakfast, babe.”

You groan but proceed to drag yourself out of bed. Limbs sore and legs feeling like jelly, you miss your footing and trip on your clothes and ungraciously fall to the floor.

You both explode with laughter. He could get used to this, he thinks.

part 3 <<>> part 4 drabble

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